I could feel Connor tense next to me, saw the way his fingers tightened on his knees. “You’re wrong.”
Surprisingly, she laughed. “How easily you say that, Connor. But I’m not. You think this is an easy thing for me, to say that the primus of this clan must be killed? It’s going to be terrible for all of us. He has no son, no child to inherit his gift. So you know what that means.”
Connor’s fingers went white-knuckled. “No.”
“Something else you don’t want to hear? Well, I’ll say it anyway. You’re the last of Jeremiah’s line. The power must pass to you. There is no other way.”
This pronouncement made my own blood go ice cold. For some reason I hadn’t allowed my mind to take this leap, to realize what the final consequence of killing Damon would be. Yes, there were many, many Wilcoxes, but they were all descendants of Jeremiah’s brothers and his one sister. It was different in my own clan, where the prima could be any girl of a given generation. But for the Wilcox clan, the primus must be Jeremiah’s direct descendant.
Mouth dry, I said, “Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves? Maybe we should focus on how we’re going to track down and…neutralize…Damon before we start worrying about who his heir is.”
“‘Neutralize,’” Connor remarked. “That’s one way to put it. What, are you suddenly working for the CIA or something?”
“Do you want me to say it outright?” I retorted. I hated all of this — hated the brittle stillness that had come between us, hated that Damon had put us in this position in the first place.
Hated that killing him would result in Connor being the new Wilcox primus. I didn’t even want to think what that might mean for our relationship.
He didn’t respond, only stared off into a corner, not meeting Marie’s or my eyes.
“Killing a skin-walker is no easy thing,” she said. “Even a witch would have a hard time doing such a thing, but you, Angela, you are not just any witch, are you? A prima has the strength to confront the yee naaldlooshii.”
She seemed confident enough of that fact. I wished I could say the same. Yes, back at Damon’s house I had driven off the wolf-creature, but I certainly hadn’t hurt it. I somehow knew that if I had been alone, it would have torn my throat out just as it had done to all those girls who looked like me. It had backed away, because Connor was there. That tiny shred of mercy told me there was still a bit of Damon inside the skin-walker, even if most of its humanity had been lost.
“Assuming I do have that strength,” I began, making it clear from my tone that I wasn’t sure I had her same confidence on that point, “how do we even find him? I mean, there are probably a hundred government officials of varying types out looking for the killer wolf, and they’re not having much luck. And I somehow doubt he’s going to go back to his house.”
“No, he won’t,” Marie replied. “We have some family members there keeping watch just in case, but you’re right — I doubt he will return there now that his secret has been discovered. My belief is that he will take to the wild. We will have to lure him out.”
“And how exactly are we supposed to do that?” Connor asked. His tone was openly skeptical. I had the feeling he would try to throw up as many roadblocks to her plan as possible — anything to keep the current situation from progressing to its logical conclusion.
Her gaze shifted to me and settled there. I tried not to react, to hold myself still, but I didn’t know how successful I was. Not very enjoyable, being pinned in place by such an unwavering stare.
Still watching me, she said, “The same way you attempt to catch any wild animal.
“With bait.”
* * *
Her plan was simple. Damon, even in his current state, still seemed to be fixated on me, on having the McAllister prima in his power. So the easiest thing to do would be to put me in harm’s way, so to speak, and bring him to me that way.
“No way,” Connor said at once. “You’re not doing that to Angela. Haven’t enough people been hurt already?”
“And more will be hurt if we don’t stop your brother.” Marie gave me a chilly look of appraisal. “Can you do it, Angela?”
I thought of all the pictures of the dead girls I had seen. No, the papers hadn’t published any crime scene photos. They’d actually shown some restraint in that. But those faces flashed through my mind, each one a life and a future cut short. Could I really allow the killings to keep happening, just because I was currently scared shitless?