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Bowman put his hands on his hips, closed his eyes, and took a long sniff. Dr. Pat and Gil both stared at him, amazed that he’d want a deeper smell of the thing, but Kenzie knew what he was doing.
After a time, Bowman opened his eyes, glanced at Kenzie, and shook his head.
No smell of Faerie, he meant. The beast had been born here, in this world. Interesting.
“Now what?” Gil asked.
“Now you send me copies of the pictures you took,” Bowman said. “And we burn the body.”
Gil stared. “You’re kidding, right? That could take days.”
“Then it takes days. If someone did breed this thing, I don’t want them coming back for it. Harvesting DNA and whatever.”
“They might have already,” Kenzie pointed out.
“I’d like to,” Dr. Pat said. “Take some tissue samples, I mean; do as much of a postmortem here as I can. I might be able to find out its origin.” She reached into her pocket and slid out test tubes and latex gloves. “But you guys might have to do a few things for me. I’m not sure how much more of this I can stand.” She beamed a wide smile at Gil, and then Bowman.
Gil said, “Sure,” very quickly and grabbed a test tube. Bowman took a second one and gave Pat a reassuring nod.
Oh, for the Goddess’s sake. The two men moved to do as Dr. Pat dictated, while the woman gave orders like a head surgeon, or a little queen. All three were oblivious to Kenzie’s scrutiny.
At least she brought coffee, Kenzie thought. Otherwise, I’d have to kill her.
* * *
“A griffin,” Cade said, heavily skeptical.
“Seriously?” Ryan asked. “Awesome.”
They sat around the kitchen table at home, Cade’s elbows on the table while he sipped coffee. Bowman lounged in a chair next to Cade’s, looking relaxed while keeping an eye on everyone in the house.
Gil and Dr. Pat both had to return to their day jobs, each disappointed they couldn’t stay for the discussion. Gil had placed a friendly hand on Kenzie’s shoulder before he left, smiling into her eyes. He made Kenzie feel warm, safe—an odd sensation from a human.
Bowman had observed all, eyes glittering. Kenzie thought he’d retaliate by kissing Dr. Pat on the cheek or something, but Bowman only told her good-bye and thanked her for her help.
Anyone would think he’d kissed her, though, from Dr. Pat’s flush and little smile. She’d go all groupie on him any moment now.
Bowman caught Kenzie’s eye as she sat down with more coffee, the heat in his glance unmistakable. Kenzie pretended to ignore him.
Jamie was cooking a mess of eggs, bacon, potatoes, and some kind of sauce, all mixed together. Kenzie hadn’t had any yet, but it smelled wonderful. She was enjoying the clean scents of food, coffee, her home, and her mate and cub, all the more precious after the horrible stench of the creature.
“The problem is,” Cade said, his huge hands around his coffee mug, “griffins don’t exist.”
“So everyone keeps telling me,” Bowman said.
“Do we have to burn it?” Ryan asked. “Can I see it?”
“No!” Kenzie and Bowman said at the same time.
Ryan gave a small wolf growl, but he subsided.
Bowman had left trusted Shifters to guard the fallen creature and start piling fuel around it, and then summoned Cade and Jamie to this meeting. Ryan had insisted on joining in, and Kenzie hadn’t stopped him. Ryan had a right to know what was going on. That didn’t mean she wanted Ryan standing next to the creature from hell and sucking in its sickening odor.
Jamie shoveled things onto plates and carried two over. Bowman got served first, because he was leader. Instead of eating, Bowman picked up the plate Jamie gave him and passed it to Kenzie. He lifted the second one Jamie put in front of him and slid it to his son.
Ryan, used to the ritual, grabbed his fork and dug in.
Jamie brought more plates, putting yet another one in front of Bowman. It was Bowman’s choice, in his house, who got the food first. Bowman handed the plate to Cade, and finally took one for himself.
“I take it you think that thing wasn’t natural-born?” Jamie asked, returning to the stove for his share.
“How could it be?” Kenzie asked. She forked up a mouthful of Jamie’s cooking, savoring the myriad flavors. “What would naturally be a mishmash of three and more animals? All of them giant-sized?”
“Shifter,” Cade said in his rumbling voice. “A screwed-up one.”
Bowman swallowed the large amount of food he’d shoved into his mouth. “The knowledge of how to make Shifters is a secret known only to the Fae. The humans tried it, remember? They came up with Tiger, but it didn’t work right. Besides, all that research got blown up.”
“And Tiger’s a little different from most Shifters,” Kenzie said. “When he’s on rescue missions, he can sometimes see numbers in front of his eyes, coordinates that tell him where to go. Somehow.”
Bowman fixed her with a look. “How the hell do you know that?”
Kenzie shrugged, lifting her coffee. “I talk to people. They tell me things.”
Bowman growled softly, but let it go. “This thing wasn’t anything like Tiger. Whoever came up with it wasn’t trying to create a Shifter; they were creating something to destroy Shifters.”
“Because it attacked us?” Kenzie traced the letters on her coffee mug—“World’s Greatest Mom.” “How do you know it was targeting Shifters, in particular? There were plenty of humans at the roadhouse that night.”