Griffin sputtered a laugh, but turned it into a cough when they both glared at him. A smirk danced about his lips, but he kept his head lowered, gazing at his feet. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Both stared at him blankly.

"The smell. Formaldehyde has a very distinct smell. We would be able to scent it."

"But a small dose-"

Raven shook her head at Scotts comment. "The quantity needed for this extent of damage would be noticeable. He would have to be nearly submerged."

"But you're not changing your mind." Scotts slanted her a glance. There was no doubt in him that her conclusion was correct. "How was this done?"

Despite the difficulties between them on their last case, he believed her. "Formaldehyde creates a physical reaction when it comes into contact with shifters, a bomb, though usually not this extreme. The chemicals react long before they can infiltrate their whole system. It's one reason why shifters pick up their dead for burial or cremation."

Something that she said caught his attention. "One of them?"

Raven turned queasy at the other reason. "Some packs stick to the old customs and eat their dead, believing the strength of the deceased will be absorbed back into the pack. They consider it a great insult to the family if everyone doesn't...partake."

Even Scotts turned a pasty gray at the comment. She couldn't blame him.

"Plausible. Except for one small fact you forgot to mention." Griffin didn't look smug anymore.

Scotts glanced between the two of them when no one spoke. "What?"

Griffin finally looked away from her. "That the process is instantaneous."

Her mind spun with the ingenious and frightening possibilities. "I don't know how it happened, I just recognize the results. Suppressed poison. Darts. A skin bandage, maybe. Someone found a way to delay the response. Though formaldehyde is a gas, it can be turned into a liquid with a solvent. There can be any number of ways to create a weapon comprising it."

Griffin didn't appear convinced. "But there are much easier ways to kill. Why go through the trouble?"

"You think there will be more?" Scotts appeared resigned to possibly finding similar crime scenes.

"Don't you?" She gave both men a level stare. "It's the perfect weapon against shifters. We're lucky formaldehyde breaks down and bonds to the flesh, otherwise, every shifter in range would be infected."

"Were you able to identify him?" Raven tried to ignore the decomp as the pervasive smell invaded her hair and pores.

Scotts nodded to a man holding a bag of parts. "Everything on his person was destroyed."

"And no one in the diner recognized him?"

"The waitress said he was a shifter, but not a regular. He appeared to be waiting for someone, received a call then rushed out back." Scotts flipped open his notebook as if he searched harder, the pages would provide more information.

"I want to see the tapes. There are no void spots on the wall or ground, so no one was in close proximity. That doesn't mean he was alone." She normally would be invited to the morgue for review, but with the medical examiner officially missing, all requests for viewings were on hold. And although she technically didn't know where the body was buried, she had helped in his demise when she caught him experimenting and selling shifters for a twisted hunt. She thought it best to keep her distance.

Scotts reviewed his scribbles. "This was the extent of surveillance. I'll get you a copy, but the camera inside broke a few years back. They fixed it enough to have the red light flash, but nothing recorded."

"Great." Raven wandered to where the jeans lay, mostly in one piece if you could ignore the way the material was riddled with holes. She crouched without touching anything, noting a familiar rectangular bulge in his pocket. "You said he received a call. Think you might be able to retrieve anything from his phone? If the SIM card is still intact, we might be in luck."

Scotts gloved up and carefully pulled out the phone then held up the mangled black case. Bones shards pierced the hard plastic, almost making the phone appear like it was bleeding.

The efficiency of the explosion chilled her.

"I'll take it back to the labs, but don't expect much." Scotts sounded disillusioned as he waved over a technician and dropped the phone in the bag provided.

"You assume your theory is a forgone conclusion." Griffin lifted his face to the breeze, but his attention was fixated squarely on her. "How?"

"I've seen it before." She could've bitten her tongue, already regretting have spoken when both men stared at her.

"Where?"

"When?"

The men spoke in unison then shared a look that shot her senses into overdrive. "You two know each other." The men started like children caught being naughty. They avoided looking at each other. "How?"

For some reason, she felt betrayed by Griffin. He insisted he needed to come along to protect her, but what reason could Griffin have that he'd want access to her crime scene? She'd be suspicious he'd had a part in the crime except Scotts didn't appear disturbed by his presence. Her wolf gave a huff in disgust, and she agreed completely. "Don't make me ask again."

"Griffin and I have met." Scotts shrugged, but didn't say anything more.

Her skin prickled at the not quite lie. "You've more than met." She hesitated, but neither man gave an inch. Then she noticed their body language. "You've worked together." The revelation knocked her for a loop.

"She's good." Griffin spoke to Scotts while staring at her.

"The best." Scotts didn't even crack a smile. "I'll have a copy of the video and witness statements made available to you. Let me know what you find." He walked to the crime scene without confirming or denying her accusation, effectively ending the conversation.

And left her alone with Griffin. "You didn't think you were the only consultant, did you?"

Actually, she had.

Without another word, Raven spun on her heel and marched back to the car. Too bad getting rid of Griffin would be as hard as removing the stench from the crime scene. That smell permeated every inch of her and usually lingered hours after.

Griffin's solid presence suffocated the car, making concentration harder. "Tell me how to contact your father."

Griffin's expression didn't change, but the tension in the car ratcheted up to an inferno. "That would be a mistake."

"I need to know if they are involved, and if not, they need to be made aware of the threat. Someone may be trying to stop the conclave."

"They have their own checks and balances. Don't get involved."

"You mean Randolph?" Her body chilled at the mention of his name. He was like her, only his power had twisted and turned sinister. Her gut still carried scars when she deflected his attempt to kill her by absorbing the energy he wielded like a weapon.

It had retaliated by trying to eat her from the inside out.

All she got in return to her question was a look that was both dead serious and tinged with fear. "You don't want to tangle with him. He enjoys gobbling up little girls like you."

She shivered at his choice of words.

Chapter Four.

Raven pulled up to the house, practically spilling out of the car to get away from Griffin. She slammed the door and strode up the walkway, the crunch of gravel under her feet echoing in the silence. She'd only gone ten feet when a tingle at the base of her spine pulled her up short.

She was being watched.

Very deliberately, she turned and scanned the landscape. Griffin paused at her side. He glanced at her then followed the direction of her gaze toward the tree line.

Nothing carried to her on the breeze.

No scents.

No sounds.

The foliage didn't sir. Clouds scuttled past, leaving pockets of darkness, almost like birds of prey circling. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, she couldn't pick out anything that should cause alarm. She rubbed her arms as her wolf rose under her skin as it, too, sensed something stalking them.

She reflexively reached for the electricity stored at her core to scan their surroundings. The animals snarled, quickly rushing to the surface in challenge. The tips of her fingers ached with the need to shed claws.

Something was out there, hunting them on her land. Neither she nor her animals appreciated the fact. When she got her hands on them, they would realize their mistake. She marched toward the grove, determined to eliminate anyone who thought to harm what was hers.

Griffin looped his arm about her waist and pulled her close until her head was tucked into his neck. When she tried to bring up her knee, he tightened his grip, squeezing the air from her lungs.

"Breathe, damn you."

Raven sucked in a greedy gulp of air and inhaled the fresh cut cedar scent of his wolf. Part of the mindless need to rent flesh from bone lessened. Rational thoughts returned in fits and starts. If anything happened to her, her people would be left vulnerable.

What caught her by surprise was the complete absence of attraction to Griffin.

Her wolf rejected him.

To know that she wouldn't mindlessly lust after any male in the vicinity left her lightheaded. Then the danger of the situation came slamming back to her.

Angered at her lack of control, she shoved away her wolf. She dipped into her core, actively seeking the full use of her power for the first time since the burnout a few days ago. Pure energy flooded her body. She gritted her teeth as pain seared along her flesh.

"Son of a bitch." Griffin's arms flexed a second when his muscles convulsed then he dropped his hold. When he pulled away, his eyes glowed.

Instead of shutting down, the power continued to build until the air crackled. Not wanting to draw more attention to herself, she reluctantly slammed all that delicious power into the ground.

The earth, in a five-foot radius, dropped two inches at the impact like a miniature crop circle, smoke rising like steam from the area. The action left her stumbling to remain on her feet and vaguely nauseous. All the power evaporated as if it had never been.

Whatever had been watching them vanished, and she could only blame herself. She tried to use her animals to search the vicinity, but the only thing she felt was Griffin's wolf demanding freedom to hunt. His condition only worsened as the very power she'd sank in the earth floated up to them, the ground too saturated to hold it all. The raw energy scratched at her skin, seeking entrance.

It had the opposite effect on Griffin.

It brought out his wolf.

"Go." The gruff word was a deep rumble from his chest.

She took a cautious step back, but hesitated at Griffin's obvious pain. His arms rippled as if he would shift then and there. "Buta"

"I'm going to find out who was spying on us. Unless you want to see me in my skivvies, I suggest you leave." So saying, Griffin tore his shirt over his head and dropped it to the ground.

Raven gulped at the display of muscles. Though she felt no desire for Griffin, she could appreciate a man built with all lean muscles and tanned skin. While he still showed effects from his recent imprisonment, it was the old scars covering every inch of his torso that made her flinch. For a shifter to retain that much tissue damage after they'd healed, someone had to have tried to skin him.

When he popped open the first button of his fly, she inhaled involuntarily to catch his scent. The energy around her fluctuating wildly, slipping down her throat to sit like a warm glow heavy in her chest.

Not wanting to lose what little control she'd wrestled back, unwilling to absorb more of the power into her abused body after such a glorious failure to hold it all, she turned and hightailed it back to the house. His mocking laugh rang in her ears, but she didn't think he took any pleasure in taunting her.

The house was thankfully silent when she entered, giving a hum of welcome. The place was a home in the truest sense of the word. Part of her power had spread to the house, changed it fundamentally with the ability to store electricity.

The tug of war between the two sides of her soul left her exhausted. She inhaled then coughed at her own smell, desperately needing a shower before she tackled the next mess.

She plucked out the two chops holding her hair in place and peeled off her gloves. She headed up the sweeping stairs, the steps curving along the wall to the second floor to open up to a balcony. The grand open spaces, large rambling hallways might have been modeled from late Victorian architecture, but she and the old building suited each other.

She entered her room. The bed was still partially ruffled from this morning's fight with her dreams. The empty couch next to it mocked her.

Jackson's couch.

At night, alone in the darkness, she'd swear she could still heard his breathing.

A cruel trick of her mind.

She kicked her shoes off and had her shirt half-unbuttoned when she heard a noise that raised the hair on the back of her neck.

Instead of calling her animals, she reached for her core. She needed power she could rely on, not a mindless beast that just wanted to kill. Strands of energy slithered through her center, the blue cords springing forward at her call to swarm over her.

Much too strong.

"Shit." Electricity snaked down her arms, enveloping her hands in a light glow. Ignoring the burning of heat under her skin, she inched along the edges of the bedroom.

She cocked her head and listened. Then she heard it again.

Male voices.

Inside the house.

How had they gotten past Griffin...or had Griffin let them in?

Following the sound, she cracked opened the bathroom door.

And stopped stock-still.

The room was torn apart, only the shower and sink remained intact. Three men, shifters of some type, young and very fit, stood across from her. They straightened abruptly at her entrance, acting shocked to see her as if she'd walked into their bathroom.

They didn't look threatening, more curious.

Their reaction tripped her up, and she had to wonder what kind of picture she presented with her dark hair swirling around her shoulders, the prominent streak of silver near her temple, and the gilded tips.