She wasn’t alone anymore. The knowledge made the ground solid under her feet again, and the shards of glass tearing up her throat had vanished. With a little time and luck, maybe they could make that true for all of Zack’s pack.
Eden opened the next box in her stack and inhaled the scent of lemon and lavender. “Is this lotion?”
“Body cream,” Kaley offered with a grin. “Mae’s skin-care specialty.”
“Our specialty,” Mae corrected, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear. “Kaley’s pretty much responsible for all the most popular scents. She has good instincts.”
Eden lifted one professionally labeled jar declaring all natural ingredients in a clean, elegant font. “How much profit do you make per jar?”
“With that? A few dollars wholesale, a little more retail. I was working on an online storefront when…” Mae trailed off and shoved her hands into the pockets of Shane’s hoodie. She’d taken to wearing it instead of a jacket, and no one had commented on it, not even to tease.
Undoubtedly no one wanted to risk taking away the small comfort Mae had found. Eden filled the awkward silence by lifting the box. “So which scent is your favorite, Kaley?”
“Sultry Southern Nights.” She reached over and dug through a box until she came up with a bottle, which she handed to Eden. “It has jasmine and vanilla, with a little bit of amber and musk.”
The scent matched the name, heavy and sensual. Eden could imagine the jars lining shelves at a boutique in Memphis and selling in bulk to tourists who wanted to take a little bit of the South home with them. “This is amazing, y’all. I thought you had more of an idea than an honest-to-God business already underway.”
Her approval brought a hint of color to Mae’s cheeks. “It’s really thanks to Kaley and Lorelei. They encouraged me to make it more than a hobby. I started off only selling the yarn, but the bath and body products are really popular.” She shifted awkwardly and offered Eden a shy whisper of a smile as Stella walked into the kitchen and eyed the products scattered across the table.
“Organic plays big with the hipster demographic.” Stella sniffed at an open jar and hummed. “So what’s the deal with your cousin, Eden? He’s cute, got that whole motorcycle-gang thing happening. Taken?”
Tension snapped through the kitchen. The friendly light in Mae’s eyes vanished, replaced by something cold and protective. Kaley was sorting bottles as if her life depended on it, all her attention focused on placing lotions and face creams into battered woven baskets.
“It’s complicated,” Eden told the witch carefully. “He’s been through a lot and could use some space.” The pounding of the hammers from outside had fallen silent, and Eden winced. “Plus, he’s probably listening to this conversation.”
Stella shrugged, clearly unembarrassed by the possibility. “You never know if you don’t ask, right?”
The hammering started again with renewed enthusiasm, and Eden bit her lip against a smile. “I’m still hung up on the human idea of privacy being possible. Doesn’t work so well among werewolves, I guess.”
“Jay mentioned privacy wards. I can do that, you know. Magical soundproofing.” She shrugged again. “No one in Red Rock would dare live without it.”
Eden carried the box of body cream over to the table where Kaley had started sorting bars of soap. “What about in Memphis? Did y’all have anything like that?”
It took Kaley a moment to answer. “Aside from a few people who roomed together, we lived apart. We only—”
A scream of sheer animal panic tore through the house. Eden acted on instinct, lunging from the table with a burst of inhuman speed. Her chair toppled over in slow motion, clattering to the kitchen floor as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
So fast, and not fast enough. There had been so much terror in that scream, so much pain. She stumbled on the steps, awkward as werewolf agility and human muscle memory did uncomfortable battle.
She clawed her way up the final two stairs and burst into the upstairs sitting room. Lorelei stood in front of Quinn’s open bedroom door, her hand clapped to her mouth, her shoulders shaking.
Dread overtook any other emotion. Eden froze, knowing both that she had to face that open door and that she wasn’t prepared for what she’d find on the other side. Behind her, the stairs shook under a stampede of footsteps, a wave of concern that washed her forward, ready or not.
She wasn’t. She couldn’t be. But the others had followed, were already at her back, a flood of agitated power converging on her from all directions. Steeling her spine, she crossed to Lorelei’s side.
Quinn swung from an exposed rafter in the ceiling, the rope he’d looped around his neck digging into his skin. His face was swollen, purple, his tongue protruding slightly from his mouth. Eden looked away. She had no idea how long he’d been there, but one thing was clear.
He was dead.
Lorelei gasped in a breath as Kaley, Mae and Stella stumbled into the room behind them. “No, get out of here. Don’t look.”
Eden grabbed for the door and hauled it shut as her stomach threatened to revolt. “Jay,” she choked out. “We need to get everyone back downstairs and find Jay.”
“Where’s Quinn?” Kaley demanded. “Eden, what’s going on?”
She parked herself in front of the door like a sentinel and raised her voice. “Quinn’s—” What could she say? There was no way to soften this blow and no reason to wait. She didn’t need Jay to confirm what she’d seen. But she couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t make her lips form them.
She couldn’t even say them in the silent darkness of her own mind.
Jay appeared at the top of the stairs. “We heard a scream.”
Lorelei herded Mae and Kaley past him, her face pale and her hands shaking. “You heard Eden. Downstairs, now. Let them—let them do what they have to do.”
Mutters. Protests. But they obeyed, slipping down the steps, and then there was only Jay. Strong, steady Jay, but not even he could make this all right. Eden wet her lips, tasted salt, and realized she’d started crying. “It’s Quinn,” she whispered. “I think he killed himself.”
“What?” He laid his hand on her shoulder as he walked past, but turned her away before opening Quinn’s door. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Oh, Jesus.”
Looking away didn’t help. The image of Quinn’s still body had painted itself on the backs of her eyelids in a thousand vivid colors. “We should have heard something. We should have checked on him when we didn’t.”
“You can’t watch everyone all the time.” The door closed, and Jay wrapped his arms around her. “Shit, what do we do?”
“I don’t know.” Numbness was settling over her, the kind she’d always told herself was practical. In a crisis, things needed to be done, and it was easier to deal with the practicalities if you couldn’t feel. But what practicalities were there when a werewolf took his own life?
She clutched at Jay’s arm and tried to walk through the possibilities. “If this had happened somewhere else, I’d be calling 911. Can werewolves even do that?”
“He’s dead,” Jay whispered. “No one who looks at him now will ever know he wasn’t human. With something like this, the Medical Examiner is supposed to do an autopsy, make sure it really was a…” He trailed off. “It’ll mean more gossip.”
Eden stiffened as she imagined nosy neighbors sneaking onto the farm to uncover illicit activity—and discovering something far more damning. “We can’t afford much more, can we?”
“No,” he admitted. “But burying him out back like a f**king dog might be even worse for the rest of them. We need to talk to Zack, see what he thinks.”
Ice crept through her veins, helping with the numbness. “No one’s burying anyone like a dog. Even if Zack wants to keep it quiet, we can do it with compassion. We can do it properly.”
“You’re right. I didn’t mean—”
Footsteps thumped up the stairs, and Colin walked in. His gaze raked over Eden before jumping past her to land on Jay. “Which do you want me to manage, the dead or the living?”
Jay shuddered. “Get in there and get him down.”
“I’ll help,” Stella offered hurriedly.
Colin’s expression looked as flat as Eden felt. “Zack’s at the foot of the stairs,” he said as he circled them. “I’m not sure if he’s waiting for you or guarding the way up.”
“I’m on it.” Jay pulled Eden away from Quinn’s door. “Come on. I need you to help me with him.”
It didn’t seem like a monumental request, not until she reached the bottom step and Zack turned to face her. If she was numb, he was…empty. No, worse. Empty implied a passive, neutral state. Zack was folding in on himself, forming a black hole that swallowed emotion before it could form. Empty could be filled, fixed, but the darkness inside Zack might hollow out anyone who tried.
He looked over her shoulder, at Jay. “How’d he do it?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jay said quietly. “Did he have family?”
Zack shook his head. “None that knew he was still alive. He broke ties when he was turned, more than ten years ago.”
“Then we need to think about whether to get the authorities involved, or just have a quiet burial and take care of him as best we can.”
Zack stared in silence for so long that Eden reached out to him. He flinched back and refocused on Jay. “If there’s any chance the authorities might end up looking into the rest of us, it’s not worth it. We’ve all got too much weird shit to explain.”
Jay nodded. “Then it needs to be tonight. I’ll take care of the practicalities.”
Zack closed his eyes. “So now there are four of us. Not much of a pack.”