Pride (Shifters #3)(67)

Once Ms. Tindale was on the ground, the guys got her wrapped and taped with little trouble, thanks in part to the fact that she was past the point of rigor mortis, but had not yet started to rot because of the near-freezing temperature.
When they were done, I left the nearly catatonic tabby long enough to pass out bottles of water and protein bars to refuel everyone before we started back, though Kaci refused both.
Even though there was very little smell coming from the body, I knew without a doubt that carrying the plastic-wrapped bundle back to the lodge would be one of the hardest, most profoundly disturbing things I would ever have to do. 
And I would help. I couldn’t refuse, especially after letting the guys do all the hard work. So after I stuffed our trash back into Reid’s bag—intentionally ignoring the fact that I’d voluntarily taken up the food-and-cleanup role—I picked up one end of the wrapped bundle without being asked. Fortunately, I got the woman’s feet. I couldn’t have handled carrying her head. Even so, Jace tried to take it from me.
I cut him off with a curt shake of my head and a determined look. I would pull my own weight, even if it meant shouldering some of Amanda Tindale’s.
Ethan took the other end and together we carried the poor woman through the woods, then back along the stream, following Jace, who led the way with one arm wrapped firmly around the young tabby’s shoulders.
Kaci stumbled once near the stream and almost fell into the water, and when Jace first picked her up, then physically turned her around to face us, I realized she wasn’t watching where she was going. At all. She stared off into space, even when he shone his flashlight into her eyes, as if she could see neither it nor us. She walked, but only when and where he led her. She wouldn’t answer any of our questions, or even meet our eyes.
After that, Reid and I switched places so we could move faster. We wanted to get Kaci back to the lodge as soon as possible. Jace and I walked on either side of her, each with an arm wrapped around her, and I called my father as we walked, more than relieved by the strong cell phone signal even in the middle of the woods.
I explained what we’d found, and about Kaci’s current nonresponsive state, and in return I got a worried “Hmm.” I could tell by the heated comments in the background that everyone else in the room had heard me, and that as usual, no two Alphas could agree on how the situation ought to be handled. My father hushed them sharply. Then he told me to “Hurry back,” and hung up.
We followed the stream back to Keller’s place, marching through his yard, around the cabin, and weaving among the trees out front. He watched through the front window, the base of an old-fashioned oil lamp in one hand, and I waved as we passed, but didn’t stop. He nodded in return, his face deeply shadowed from the flickering flame beneath his chin.
Less than an hour later we stepped from the tree line fifty feet from the lodge. Reid and Ethan carried the body around back while Jace and I ushered Kaci through the front door, where Marc and my father were waiting for us, though everyone else had gone out to inspect the dead woman.
We put Kaci on the couch and my father sat next to her. He took her hand and asked several questions, including whether or not she knew her own name, the date, or where she was. She made no response. She didn’t look at him, or at any of the rest of us.
Daddy sighed, patting her hand. “Her skin is cold, and I don’t think she’s heard a word I’ve said.”
“She’s in catatonic shock,” Jace said. I was pretty sure there was no such state—medically speaking—but I kept my mouth shut because I knew what he meant.
When Jace and my father went out to join the other Alphas, Marc and I took Kaci upstairs and got her ready for bed. She neither protested nor helped when we dressed her in a nightgown, and once we got her in the bed, she only stared at the ceiling. She wasn’t even blinking often enough to suit me.
Kaci had checked out of her body for the time being, and I saw no sign that she’d be back anytime soon. And I couldn’t really blame her.
For several minutes, I sat on the extra bed watching her in the light of the bedside lamp. Marc sat with me, and I let my head fall onto his shoulder, treasuring the whisper of each breath he took, even under such unfortunate circumstances.We stayed like that until the back door squealed open downstairs, admitting a procession of heavy footsteps into the house below. Then I rose, pulling Marc with me.
He stayed in the upstairs hallway because if they saw him, the Alphas would send him back to our cabin. But I took the steps two at a time, eager to hear what—if anything—the council had decided.
As one, the Alphas converged on the living-room furniture, as I sank onto the bottom step. I’m not sure what I expected—arguments, maybe, or I-told-you-so’s. But I did not expect the parade of grim faces and hanging heads. The Alphas all looked…tired. Not like they’d given up, really, but like they’d aged. Drastically. And for Paul Blackwell, that hardly seemed possible; he was old as dirt before this whole mess started.
Daddy took the armchair against the wall, and Malone sat opposite him, but for once I had a feeling he wasn’t actually in opposition to my father. He just wanted somewhere to sit without crowding onto the couch with the commoners, who would be played in tonight’s production by my uncle Rick and Paul Blackwell. Jace retreated to sit with me on the steps, while Ethan, Reid, Parker, and Alex Malone lined up against the wall.
The best policy for enforcers in a council meeting was to try to blend into the background. Sometimes if you don’t give the Alphas reason to notice you, they won’t. It’s one of the best ways to glean otherwise privileged information, and we were all experienced eavesdroppers.
My father ran both hands across his face, as if trying to wake himself up. He hadn’t been sleeping well, and it was starting to show. “Call off the search for the strays.” He leaned back in his chair, templing his hands beneath his chin, for once heedless of the wrinkles in his suit jacket. “Radley is forming a Pride out of homicidal, likely mentally unstable, strays, and we have to take him out with one strike. We need everybody rested to do that.”
One by one, the other Alphas nodded in agreement. Uncle Rick’s gaze settled on Parker. “There’s a list of cell-phone numbers on the fridge. Start at the top and work your way down. They’re out in pairs, so make sure you cross off the partners as you come to them to save time.”
Parker nodded and headed into the kitchen, digging his own phone from his pocket as he went.
“We still need a location,” Malone said, meeting my father’s eyes over the coffee table.
“Yes, we do. Normally I’d send Marc, but since he no longer works for me, I’m open to suggestions.”
Send Marc to do what? I glanced up at Ethan and he slammed one fist into his opposite palm, miming a punch. Oh. They were sending someone to pound some answers out of Hannibal. Wherever the hell he was. 
“Reid?” Malone twisted in his seat to make eye contact with the fastidious, bald enforcer.
“Ethan will go, too,” my father said, rubbing his jaw now. “He’s taped up in the shed. Don’t come back until you know where Radley’s housing his men and how many there are.”
Ethan and Reid nodded in unison, then headed for the back door.
My father sighed and glanced at the rest of us in turn. “Everyone else should get some rest.” He twisted to face the stairs, and I expected his eyes to meet mine, but his focus settled over my head instead. “Marc!”
“Yes?” Marc thumped into sight without hesitation, and I couldn’t help but smile. Our Alpha had known he was there the whole time.
“Escort Faythe back to the cabin.” My father’s gaze settled on me with an emotional weight too heavy to quantify. “I’ll call you if anything changes with Kaci. For now, get some sleep.”
It was a truly wonderful gesture. He was trying to give us one final night together. For goodbye. I blinked back tears, both because of his gesture and because of its significance. According to the clock over the door, it was 11:00 p.m. In eight hours, Marc would be gone.
I stood, and Marc wrapped one arm around my waist. We walked back to the cabin slowly, trying to enjoy the evening stroll as if it were a routine event, rather than the last of such for six whole months. We were both grateful for my arrangement for semi-annual visits, but May seemed like a very long time away.
My feet dragged as I climbed the porch steps. As glad as I was to be spending the next few hours alone with Marc, I knew that a good portion of that would be spent sleeping—though not all of it, of course—and that when we woke, it would only be to say goodbye. I wanted to delay that moment as long as possible.
Michael sat on the couch in the living room, his laptop balanced on his knees, his head thrown back with his mouth hanging open. He was sound asleep, and I couldn’t imagine how he’d kept from dropping his computer. When I lifted it from his lap, he woke up. “What time is it?”
“Just after eleven.”
“Shit. What did I miss?” He removed his glasses to rub his eyes while I shut down his laptop.
“Kaci led us to the body.” The screen went black and I closed the computer with a soft click. “It was in a tree. Half consumed.”