Curran POV Collection by Gordon Andrews

Author:Gordon Andrews [Andrews, Gordon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ilona Andrews, Inc
Published: 2018-11-26T16:00:00+00:00

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Two hours later, I was in Boris’s cabin in the woods northwest of the Keep. Two of Jim’s people were posted by the door. Others were carefully walking around outside and looking closely at things on the ground. It wasn’t a crime scene so much as a nightmare. Blood was everywhere. Walls, ceiling, most of it on the floor. Busted furniture littered the cabin. Almost everything was broken or knocked over. The place looked like a barroom after a brawl, like you see in one of the old cowboy movies. Except this wasn’t some “shady dive,” this was the home of someone I knew. I’d visited Boris after he’d moved in. His home had been neat and clean. I remember him telling me that he “never could abide a messy domicile.” He’d hate it now if he were alive. Which he wasn’t, not by a long shot.

I looked at the body in front of me. Or rather what remained of it.

I’d once read a line in a book. It said “The guy was dead as hell.” It seemed to fit. Boris hadn’t just been killed; he’d been ripped apart by someone or something strong. Smart, too. The killer, or killers, had damn near painted the place with wolfsbane, covering their tracks. Still, if you knew what you were looking for, there were clues. Deep gouges in the log walls and cabin floor testified to the power of the attacker. Somebody big. Clan Nimble and the Rats were right out. The place wasn’t big enough to hold the numbers they would have needed to bring Boris down. The Wolves were a possibility. They’d had an issue with Boris before. I could think of one wolf pair that might have had a chance, but it wasn’t Daniel and Jennifer. They were concentrating on smoothing out their family life. Besides, if those two were making a comeback, Derek would’ve heard something and told me or Jim.

Last time I’d seen Boris, he’d been working on a huge oak table, the top at least two inches thick. Now his battered body was lying in the ruins of it. Who was powerful enough to knock him back into the damn thing or slam him through it? Somebody from Clan Heavy, maybe—Eduardo would be strong enough, but some of the marks on the floor said claws, not hooves. Besides, it wasn’t his style. He had a short fuse and didn’t mind fighting, but when he lost his temper he attacked right away. He wouldn’t brood about it, planning and waiting for the right time. Bison don’t have to sneak around or stab you in the back. Still, I’d put my money on someone from Heavy, but who was strong and stupid enough to kill their alpha’s oldest friend?

“So, what do you think?” A familiar voice asked from over my shoulder.

“He’s dead, Jim.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are.” Jim grimaced. “I know you didn’t do it because I saw you yesterday, and you weren’t all fucked up.

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