The corpse’s stomach had been sliced open, the edges carved with the telltale marks of shapeshifter claws. His intestines bulged out in thick clumps. His face was a bloodstained mess, but I recognized him instantly.

Claire screamed. The journeymen shied back from the table. Everyone said something at once.

“Your people murdered Mulradin Grant,” Hugh said, his voice drowning out the others.

“Let’s not lose our heads,” Ghastek warned.

“Show me proof!” Jim snarled.

“Look at the body.” Hugh pointed to the corpse. “He’s all the proof anyone will need.”

Even the greenest recruit fresh out of the police academy would instantly identify these wounds. The spread of the gashes, the pattern, the size of the gouges, all of it was unmistakable. Mulradin had been murdered by a shapeshifter.

“There is no proof that this was done by a member of the Pack,” I barked. “You employ shapeshifters in your goon squad.”

Claire rocked back and forth. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Ghastek said.

Hugh pointed at him. “You—be quiet. The Pack claims dominion over all shapeshifters in the state. They bear full responsibility.”

“Don’t bring my people into it,” I said. “I’ll make you regret it.”

“I love it when you make threats,” Hugh said.

“You’ll love what follows even more.”

Ghastek kept looking at Hugh, then at me, at Hugh, then at me.

“I can’t wait, baby,” Hugh said.

Only Curran called me baby. He was goading me.

“You killed him!” Claire screamed, her voice shrill. “You killed my husband!”

Hugh stepped to her. His voice turned gentle. “They did. Look. Look at him. Your husband suffered before he died. Don’t you want to do something about it? Don’t you want to make the animals pay?”

Claire’s face went white. She grabbed at the metal bracelet on her arm.

“Stop!” Ghastek’s voice snapped like a whip.

Hugh spun to him. “It’s his will. Let it happen.”

Ghastek took a step back. “It’s our city. I have discretion.”

“Not anymore,” Hugh said, met my eyes, and winked.

You sonovabitch. This was exactly what he wanted: a big ugly public incident from which there was no return. We could come back from killing vampires—they were property. But we were already accused of murder. If we took down any of the People now, with Mulradin’s body on the table and his grieving widow out of her mind, the entire city would turn against us. They didn’t love the People any more than they loved us, but if Atlanta had a chance to be rid of either one, the city would take it. Hugh would have an excuse to declare a war against the Pack and be celebrated for it.

Claire ripped the bracelet off. It pulsed with red, and the ceiling burst.