“Ramón Veloz,” Tao repeated.

Taryn pursed her lips. “Never heard of him.”

“Well, he’s heard of you,” Tao told her.

Her brows raised. “Me?”

“His brother’s dying of a brain tumor,” Tao explained. “Ramón wants you to heal him. Says he’ll pay you.”

Jaime, who was perched on Dante’s lap, looked at Taryn. “Could you even do that?”

“Not without killing myself in the process,” Taryn replied.

“Even if you could, it wouldn’t be advisable to help,” said Rhett, who was tapping away on the keys of his laptop. “I heard of a healer who helped humans in exchange for money. She had people lining up, which would have been profitable for her except it drained her to the point that she became seriously weak and sick herself. That didn’t stop humans from harassing her for help.”

“What did you tell him?” Trey asked Tao.

“That she wouldn’t be able to help,” Tao replied. “He didn’t believe me. Someone’s told him that Taryn can help, and their word seems to mean more to him than mine. He’s expecting your call.” He handed Ramón’s business card to Dante, who then passed it along to Trey.

“I’ll call,” began Trey. “I’ll inform him that we can’t be of any assistance.”

“Shit,” hissed Rhett.

Trey frowned. “What?”

“Ramón Veloz,” said Rhett, eyes on the screen of his laptop. “The guy’s allegedly a drug lord. He’s also suspected of having his hands in gun smuggling, human trafficking, and prostitution rings. The police have never been able to pin anything on him, though.” He paused as he tapped a few keys. “He has a brother, Dion; the guy works for Ramón and is a person of interest in several murder cases.”

Taryn raised a brow. “Well, now I don’t feel bad that I can’t help him.”

Dante drummed his fingers on Jaime’s thigh and said, “This Ramón guy could be a problem if he proves persistent. People like him don’t like being denied what they want.”

“I don’t give a shit what he does or doesn’t want,” said Trey, expression hard. “Taryn can’t help him. It’s as simple as that.”

Jaime looked from Tao to Riley. “What were you guys doing at Mo’s Diner anyway? Was it a date? Tell me it was a date.”

Riley rolled her eyes at the little matchmaker. “I was meeting someone from my flock.”

There was a short silence as people exchanged glances.

“You didn’t say your old flock,” Trey observed.

“I never really left it. And I never once implied that I had,” Riley reminded him.

After a moment Trey said, “True enough. What flock is it?”

“The Exodus Flock from Arizona.”

“I’ve heard of it,” said Trey. “Are you going back?”

“Only for the weekend. The Alphas are throwing a surprise party for my uncles. I want to be there.”

“You talk about them with affection in your voice,” said Dante. “Yet you don’t live within the flock. Why?”

Not at all eager to revisit the past, Riley hesitated. But these people had been good to her, she reminded herself. They’d been patient when she refused to speak of it all these months. Most importantly to her, they were good to Savannah and Dexter. She could share the truth with them. It would also be a lot easier to talk about while Greta, Zac, and the little ones weren’t in the room. Greta would make snide comments, and the story would only upset the younger pack members.

“I got along fine with most of the kids in the flock, but my closest friends were Lucy and Wade.” Riley licked her lips. “Sadly, Wade was one of those people destined to go through life being emotionally bruised over and over. He was extremely sensitive, so he felt things deeply, too deeply. He was also thin-skinned and highly introverted, which made him socially anxious. To add to that, he was the most submissive raven in the flock—he was particularly submissive for a male. All that made him the butt of a lot of jokes. Growing up, I spent a great deal of my time defending him from others, mostly his cousin, Alec.”

“There was a boy like that in my old pack,” said Taryn. “The other wolves made his life hell.”

“Most of the kids in the flock did the same to Wade,” said Riley. “He didn’t get tougher as he got older. He became more and more withdrawn until he eventually stopped talking to me or Lucy. He stayed in his cabin most of the time, playing video games. We suspected he was depressed and told his mom about it, but she shrugged it off.

“One night I was at a house party. It was Alec’s twenty-first birthday and pretty much everyone in our age-group was there—no parents, no Betas, no Alphas, no enforcers; just a bunch of kids celebrating that they could legally drink. I was supposed to meet Lucy there, but I couldn’t find her inside. The music was loud, so I went into the kitchen to call her cell phone. I hadn’t even dialed her number when I heard it.”

“Heard what?” asked Jaime.

“Bang.” Riley swallowed hard. “I’m not entirely sure where Wade got the gun, but he shot and killed every kid there. It all happened so fast. I should have shifted and flown off, but I heard one of them shout Wade’s name and I thought that meant he’d turned up at the party—that made me freeze, wondering what the fuck I could do to help. I didn’t think for a single second that he was the one holding the gun. Not until he came into the kitchen. His eyes . . . they were dead. No rage, no thirst for violence. I swear, it chilled my blood.”

Riley paused in surprise as Tao’s hand squeezed hers. “I tried to talk Wade into putting the gun down, I asked him not to shoot. He frowned at me as if I was stupid, said he’d never hurt me, and then he just walked out the back door. People came to help, but by then he’d shifted and flown off into the mountains.”

“Did they track him?” asked Trick, leaning forward.

“The Beta, Hugh, found his dead body a couple of days later,” said Riley. “It looked like he’d died from dehydration, according to Hugh. He could have survived if he’d stayed in his avian form, but I think he wanted to die.”

Makenna wrapped her arms around herself. “God, that’s horrible.”

“There’s more,” Tao sensed. “I can understand you leaving the territory while the memories are too fresh, Riley, but not why you’d stay away for four years. There has to be more.”

She rubbed at her nape. “A lot of people were grieving. They’d lost sons and daughters. And as much as they were glad that I was okay . . .”

“They resented you for it,” Makenna finished.

Riley lifted one shoulder, asking, “Who could blame them? Of course they’d be wishing their own child survived. I could understand that. But Wade’s mother, Shirley . . . well, she didn’t want to face what her son had done. And you know what? I can understand that too. But she went too far—she accused me of putting him up to it. She said I must have taken advantage of his depressed state and made him act against his nature.”

Jaime gasped. “That’s crazy.”

“She made it sound very believable. I mean, I was the only survivor. Why shoot the others and not me? She implied I could have taken Wade there, watched while he did it, and then helped him get away. Some of the grievers were angry enough to want to believe that so they could have a living, flesh-and-blood person to rail at. Ravens are extremely protective of their young—it’s in their bones. Those deaths rocked everyone, made the parents feel like they’d failed their children. They wanted a whipping boy, someone they could project all that guilt onto.