“Get dressed and clean up. We’ll talk then.”
The only comforting thing was that Trax had confirmed she wasn’t crazy. Getting warm and being away from these men for a few minutes might help her sort through the rubble.
She gimped into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and splashed water on her face. While she was warmer than when she’d first come in, her feet were like ice and her hair still damp. Not wanting to keep them waiting, she pulled on jeans that she had to hop to get in to, a loose T-shirt, a baggy sweater, warm socks, and boots. The socks had been the hardest to get on with her injured hand.
Now she almost felt human, but couldn’t button her jeans. Damn it. She pulled her sweater down over the waistband and went back out. Both men were deep in conversation and stopped when she approached. More questions slammed into her brain. They might answer one or two, but she bet that would be the limit.
She looked over at Trax. “Were you following Couch’s men when they drove into the alley? Is that why you were so near?” She didn’t believe in coincidences.
“Yes. Our group intercepted Couch’s phone call about wanting you dead.”
Her head pounded. “Oh.” She doubted he’d go into more detail about his group. She closed her eyes and tried to figure out what came next, and her stomach turned queasy. “Do you think he’ll try again?”
Trax didn’t even blink. “I don’t know. Even though you witnessed his men shift, he’ll probably figure that even if you went to the authorities, no one would believe you.”
“I agree, but trust me, I have no intention of telling anyone.”
“We think it would be safer if you stayed with us. Our home is secure.”
Dante chuckled. “We have more cameras than Central Command. No one can sneak in.”
She skewed up her face. “Even in your bedroom?” Now why had her mind gone there? Oh, yeah. Because these men did things to her body that no others had.
“No.” His smile made his eyes twinkle. “Not there. We have surveillance outside the building to see who approaches. We leave motion sensors on at night to make sure no sneak attacks occur.”
A lot more was at stake than just Harvey Couch. “What do you really do?” Trax seemed to be the one in this line of business. “Who is this group you referred to?”
“Our group tries to keep Gulfside safe from the likes of those types of shifters.”
It now made sense. “So you’re kind of like ghost hunters, only you target werewolves?”
Now some joy filled his face. “Something like that.” He sat back up. “Now tell us really why Harvey Couch wanted you dead. Did you steal something?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Trax said she could tell him anything. Even if they’d lied and were cops, they would have been required to read her her rights to use what she said against her. “I tried to kill him.”
Trax burst out laughing, and from the way Dante’s eyes widened, it was an odd occurrence. “I have to say I might have misjudged you. Why would you do that? It was your first day on the job. Or should I ask, what did Harvey Couch do to deserve your wrath?”
Her thoughts shot ahead. Maybe if she could give Trax some information that would lead to Couch’s arrest, once the bastard was in custody, she might be able to get the rape charge to stick. “He raped my mother. I put GHB in his coffee so he’d pass out. Then I had planned to shoot him.”
Dante lips pressed together. “Too bad you couldn’t have known werewolves absorb drugs differently than humans.”
Damn. “So that’s why when I doused his coffee, he didn’t even look sleepy. Do you think he knew?”
“Yes. He would have smelled it.”
The bastard never let on. “I put a ton of sugar and cream in his cup to cover up the taste so it didn’t smell.”
“Not to you.”
While she didn’t know what parts of the lore were true and which weren’t, she guessed that if Couch were part animal, he’d have a keener sense of smell. “Just out of curiosity if I’d shot him, would I have killed him?” She wasn’t sure about the silver bullet theory.
Dante must have taken pity on her and waved a hand. “No. Werewolves take a special kind of bullet.”
“Then it’s true that werewolves can only be killed with silver bullets?”
Now Dante laughed and the sound tumbled straight to her heart. “No, sugar. It’s one you have to make yourself. One mixes a particular chemical with the gunpowder and it’s poisonous to shifters.”
Their knowledge was impressive. “How do you know so much?” Trax hadn’t answered her question, but Dante seemed more receptive.