“Not beyond following her as you asked. She hunts more than is common, and certainly shows more skill for it than you'd usually find among women of her status. None of that nonsense with beaters or hounds. But beyond confirming that she does have a temper and she does—did—hate Guy, I never saw much cause to inspect her more carefully.”
“You’ve gotten close though. Smelled her?”
The fur around the wolf’s eye rose slightly, the lupine arching of an eyebrow. “Yes, I’ve smelled her. This body has a disgustingly overdeveloped sense of smell. I’ve smelled every object and person on the entire island —”
“And does she smell human?”
Another furry eyebrow arched, this time paired with a huff of breath through its nose at being interrupted. “She smells of rosemary. A lot of rosemary. So much rosemary, that to be anywhere near her has me sneezing for hours after.”
“But you don’t smell anything else, anything that would make you think she was something other, something not human?”#p#分页标题#e#
“No.”
Mac drummed his fingers on the table. “There’s something off about that woman. I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“You mean your claw.”
The wolf gestured with its nose, pointedly eyeing his hand. He clenched his fingers into a fist, the urge to swipe out with his “claws” tingling in his muscle’s memory.
“If your nose is so keen, perhaps you could tell me why you can’t find Robin Hood?”
“The sidhe wears glamour more often than his own face—and he includes a new scent with every new glamour. He leaves no trail. Indeed, I’m not certain I would know which scent was truly his if I smelled it.” The wolf narrowed its amber eyes. “As well you should know.”
A scathing retort leapt to Mac’s tongue, but before he could let it fly, the wolf spoke again.
“How did Guy meet his end?”
The change in subject let some of the pressure off Mac’s anger, like the lid being lifted from a pot left too long over the fire. He straightened, pressing his fingertips lightly against the table’s surface.
“Marian killed him. Guy finally pushed her too far.”
The wolf waited silently for a long minute, but if it was waiting for Mac to offer any more information, it had a long wait.
The Cassidys paid their back taxes last week. Perhaps their sudden windfall has more to do with our green bandit than a bountiful harvest? He scribbled a brief note in the border of the map.
“Good fortune that you happened to be there when it happened.”
Mac frowned at the wolf, mentally backtracking to put that comment into context. “There was no fortune involved. I was there because I planned to be there. Guy had been salivating over that woman for years, always going on about getting her into his bed—and always with his usual lack of couth. It was only a matter of time before she killed him and it was easy enough to plant the idea in his mind that his efforts might bear fruit if he were to incorporate a legal angle. Of course since he lacked any connection to authority beyond myself, it was only natural that he would arrange for me to be on hand when he finally confronted her.”
“You set him up.”
“Yes.”
“And you just watched her shoot him. Our cousin.”
“Your attempt to shame me would have more weight if you had not said yourself on more than one occasion that Guy would be worth more to us dead than alive. Even as a wolf, he was no more than a glutton, eating indiscriminately according to his own sadistic whims. That farmer’s wife he went after was nearly the undoing of this entire family.”
The wolf neatly avoided his gaze by leaning forward to put its nose closer to the map. “More of your obsession with Robin Hood?”
“It is not an obsession.” Mac planted a hand on the wolf’s furred chest and shoved, curling his lip as it flailed and twisted its body in an attempt to regain its balance. Its efforts were unsuccessful and it hit the floor on its side, its breath leaving it in a great whoosh. “Robin Hood is symbolic of everything that is wrong with this county. Flitting about with his little band, taking and giving with no respect for law and order. Even his queen has given up trying to control him. He answers to no one.” He gripped the table again, metal claws digging fresh grooves into the wood. “Well, he will answer to me.”
“Been like this since you were a babe,” the wolf grumbled, scrambling to its feet and glaring balefully at Mac. “Always fancied yourself the boss of everyone. Your mother should have—”