One down, one to go, I thought, scared, but to back down now would end my life more quickly than publicly claiming the stupid thing. “I’m his alpha,” I said, nodding to David. “I say that says I can.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. Looking as if he had cracked a rotten egg, he said, “I’ll make you part of my pack. That’s my best offer. Take it.”

“Take it or what?” I allowed a touch of sarcasm into my voice. “I have a pack, thank you. And why does everyone keep telling me I can’t do things? I’ve got it. You don’t. I’m not giving it to you. End of story. So you can stop killing each other trying to find out where it is.”

“Simon,” Mrs. Sarong said caustically, “shut your yap. She has it. Deal with it.”

I would have tried to find a compliment in that but figured her support would only last until she found a way to kill me.

Mr. Ray met her gaze, and something I didn’t understand passed between them. David felt it. So did every Were in the place. Like a wave, they all relaxed. I felt ill when both packs shifted and every weapon was put away. My worry tightened. Damn and double damn. I can’t afford to trust this.

“I didn’t target your aide,” Mr. Ray said, his thick arms going to rest atop the table.

“I didn’t touch your secretary,” the woman said, taking out a compact and checking her makeup. It snapped shut, and she met his eyes squarely. “No one in my pack did either.”

Just peachy damn keen. They were talking, but I didn’t think I was in control. “Fine,” I said. “Nobody is killing anybody, but we still have two murdered Weres.” The two of them had given me their full attention, and my stomach knotted. “Look,” I said, very uncomfortable, “someone besides us knows the focus is in Cincinnati and is looking for it. It might be the island Weres. Has either of you heard of a new pack in town?”

As I thought of Brett, they both shook their heads.

Okay. Swell. Back to square one. I wanted them to leave, so I leaned back as if in dismissal. I’d seen Trent do it a couple of times, and it seemed to work for him. “I’ll keep looking for the murderer, then,” I said, glancing at their thugs. “Until I figure out who’s doing this, will you two let go of each other’s throats?”

Mr. Ray sniffed loudly. “I will if she does.”

Mrs. Sarong’s smile was stilted and clearly false. “I can do the same. I need to make a few calls. Before sunset.” A pointed look at her daughter and the young woman excused herself, cell phone in hand as she went outside. Mr. Ray gestured, and one of his men followed her.