Blind Tiger
Page 77

Drew sucked in one more weak breath. Then he went still.
“Motherfucker!” I shouted, and Justus whined, cowering on the ground in the shadow of a carousel horse. Dimly, I realized that his posture was the instinctual reaction of a Pride member to his Alpha. Something he hadn’t needed to be taught.
If that instinct had kicked in a second earlier, Drew might still be alive. He might still be able to admit what he’d done in front of the council.
“We needed him,” I whispered as I sank onto the concrete, wishing I had something to wipe my bloody hands on.
“Justus will be enough,” Robyn insisted. “They’ll be able to smell Drew in his scent.”
“That won’t excuse what he did. We needed Drew to testify to manipulating him. To sending him pictures of Ivy and Leland, knowing what would happen. Without that, he’s just another rogue stray.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Robyn whispered. “But we need to clean this up and get out of here.”
She was right. “The Elephant Cafe.” I pointed with one bloody hand at the closed restaurant. “There might be bleach inside.”
Robyn stood and dropped my backpack at my feet. “I’m on it. Clean up your hands and put a shirt on.”
While she was gone, I dug carefully in my bag for a packet of antiseptic wipes, a must-have for any infant’s diaper bag and shifter’s supply pack. Justus watched me; his head cocked to one side.
“Don’t worry,” I said as I wiped blood from my hands and arms. “I’m going to take care of this. I’ll protect you. I’ll teach you.” If I’d done that in the first place, Drew could never have gotten to him.
It took most of the packet of wipes to get me clean enough that I could wear the spare shirt from my bag without getting blood on it. As I tugged the top into place, Robyn returned carrying a gallon of bleach and a roll of brown paper towels that could only have come from a public restroom.
By then, Drew had stopped bleeding, but there was a large pool of blood beneath him. I rolled him over, and while we listened for any sign of approaching company, we sopped up as much blood as we could with the paper towels, shoving them into my backpack with the used wet wipes for disposal—or incineration—later.
When we’d done as much as we could, we doused the blood stain with bleach. That wouldn’t erase any trace of blood, but it would destroy Drew’s DNA and prevent his death from exposing the existence of shifters.
“Okay, I’ll take these back and wipe down everything I touched.” Robyn held up what remained of the bleach and paper towels. “Then I’ll catch up with you.”
“We’ll wait here for you,” I said, but she shook her head firmly.
“You have a dead body and a giant cat. You need to get the hell out of here right now. I’ll meet you at the car.”
Unable to argue with her logic, I nodded and lifted Drew’s corpse. “Come on, Justus.”
Robyn headed for the Elephant Café, and my brother and I pressed on toward the exterior fence where we’d come in, hidden by foliage as much of the time as we could manage.
We could hear the party well before we got to it, and once we came to the herpetarium, it became clear why: the event had spilled outdoors.
“Fuck,” I whispered, eyeing several dozen students holding beer bottles and cocktails in plastic light-up cups. Most of the girls wore cheap plastic headbands with panda or tiger ears on their heads, and several of the guys carried an inflatable giraffe or gorilla under their arms. And as far as I could tell, every single one of them was wasted.
Unfortunately, they were also between us and the section of fence I’d parked Spencer’s car behind.
“Wow,” Robyn whispered from behind me, and I nearly dropped Drew’s body in surprise. Her stealth was rapidly improving. “What’s the plan?”
“I don’t know. I guess we go the long way.”
Justus growled and shook his head. Then he stepped out of the brush onto the wide, paved walkway.
“Justus!” I hissed. But he only padded silently toward the party spilling onto the concrete in front of the reptile house. “What the hell is he doing?”
“Creating a distraction,” Robyn answered softly. “He’s got your brains and my sense of adventure. Admittedly a dangerous combination.”
“Okay, when this is all over, we’re going to have a talk about how you’re smart, and I’m exciting, but for now—”
A woman screeched. All laughter and drunken conversation died, leaving the music playing for a crowd that had stopped dancing.
They’d spotted Justus.
My brother stared at them, growling. His tail swished. He paced to the right, and panic washed over the crowd. Girls screamed. Guys dropped their inflatable animals. People ran in every direction, digging phones from their pockets.
In seconds, there wasn’t a party-goer in sight.
“Come on!” Robyn called as she stepped out of the bushes onto the path. “They’re all calling 911.” Just as she’d predicted they would.
Justus raced after her, and I took up the rear, weighed down a little by Drew’s corpse. My brother jumped over the fence with no problem. Robyn stared at it for a moment, then leaped several feet in the air. She landed less than a foot from the top, and while she climbed over, I contemplated the dead weight of the murderer I still carried like a sleeping child.
“I’m going to have to throw him over,” I said at last. “So either get ready to catch him, or stand out of the way.” The shuffle of shoes away from the fence told me which she’d chosen.
I sucked in a deep breath, then heaved Drew over the fence with as much height as I could give him. His jacket snagged at the top and a patch of material tore loose. But he made it over and crashed to the ground with a sickening thud.
I snagged the torn material on my way over the fence, then picked up the corpse and followed Robyn and Justus toward Spencer’s car. Robyn got behind the wheel while I stored the body in the trunk, in a roll of plastic kept just for that unfortunate possibility—a tip from Faythe and Marc. Justus lay across the backseat, no doubt exhausted and starving from his shift.
“Where to?” Robyn asked as she pulled out of the parking lot into a long line of fleeing college kids. None of whom should have been driving.
“Home. I’ll call Jace on the way.” As she pulled onto the highway, I twisted in my seat to look at my brother, who lay with his muzzle resting on his folded front paws.