“I got Mulradin, Double D, Hugh, and a few others who are probably Hugh’s people,” Derek confirmed.

I tried to concentrate. It was proving tricky. My magic-stunned brain still wanted to float off into the shocked haze. “Can you tell what happened?”

“Dorie came in first,” Robert said. “Mulradin arrived about half an hour later. They had sex, once on the bench, once in the corner over there.” He pointed to the left of the bed, where a chain fell to the floor. One end of it was attached to the ring in the wall, the other to a spiked collar.

“Then Dorie killed Mulradin on the bed,” Desandra said.

Shit. “Are you sure?”

Derek nodded. “Once you get accustomed to the smell of blood, it’s very clear. Her scent is on the bed and the linens, and her fur is stuck to Mulradin’s blood. No other scents on the bed.”

“D’Ambray came in at some point, with five other people. They entered as a group,” Derek said. “Also someone fired a shotgun slug into that wall.” He nodded at the opposite wall.

“Before or after the murder?”

He shook his head. “No way to tell. It’s fresh.”

Ascanio nodded at the hallway. “Dorie left after the murder. Her scent trail is separate from the others, tainted with blood, and older. You can see her bloody tracks.” He pointed to the side. “She ran out of here.”

A member of the Pack had murdered a Master of the Dead. A small part of me had been hoping that Hugh’s accusation wasn’t true, and now that hope died a sad death.

I tried to make sense of it. “So she killed Mulradin for some reason. Either it was some sort of accident or she did it on purpose. If it was an accident, how did Hugh get involved? If it was a premeditated murder, Hugh either hired her to do it, forced her to do it, or happened to somehow be watching the apartment when she did it.” That last one didn’t seem likely. “Would she kill for money?”

“I doubt it,” Derek said. “She isn’t violent. I wouldn’t call her a nice person, but she wouldn’t kill someone on her own.”