Four-Letter Words Evans, Gabrielle (best detective novels of all time .TXT) 📖

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“The contractors will be here tomorrow night to go over designs for the new hospital. I’ve already informed the guards at the front gates to expect them.” While Thane was interrogating prisoners, Zasha was back to his normal job of being Leader Tuesday’s personal assistant. “The new Alpha of the Trinity Pack will be celebrating his birthday next week. Should I send a gift?” Several seconds passed without a response. “Leader Tuesday?” Still, no answer. “October?”

“Oh, yes, um, I’m sorry, Zasha, what did you say?”

“Are you feeling okay, sir?”

“Zasha, are there any celestial events occurring in the next few weeks?”

It was such an odd question, and Zasha’s eyes tightened at the corners as he frowned. “The full moon is in two weeks. I’m not aware of any other events. Why do you ask?”

“What about holidays? Is there anything significant occurring soon?”

“Well, there is Valentine’s Day. Do you need me to order a gift for your mate?” Zasha was growing more confused by the minute. There had been so much happening lately that Christmas kind of came and went without any type of fanfare. Perhaps October was trying to make up for the lack of festivities. “I’m sorry. I think I’m missing something.”

“Maybe I’m just being paranoid.” Leaning forward in his chair, October rested his elbows on his desk and clasped his hands together beneath his chin. “It all feels too easy, though. From everything you and Raith have told me about the fight, there is no logical reason we should have won.”

Zasha hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on it, but to be honest, he’d had similar thoughts. The witches they’d faced were powerful, not neophytes in the least, and it should have been a massacre. Somehow, against all odds, they’d come out on top, though. Zasha wanted to believe that good had triumphed, but this wasn’t a fairy tale. In the real world, the good guys didn’t always win. The guys with the most power did.

“What are you saying? Do you think we were meant to bring them back to Wyoming?” He couldn’t think of anything their enemies could possibly want other than the Braddocks, and they’d had five of them trapped in those mines.

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting, but I just don’t know why.” An uncharacteristic scowl darkened the leader’s features, and he shoved his fingers through his short, blond hair. “This entire thing was orchestrated, and there has to be a reason. There is an explanation of why right now.”

There was Groundhog Day and Valentine’s Day. St. Patrick’s Day wasn’t until March, as well as the first day of spring. There would be a slew of different moon phases in that time. There was Día de los Muertos, but the Day of the Dead celebration had already passed—the same with Samhain or All Hallows’ Eve.

Continuing down that same path, Zasha scrolled through his banks of useless knowledge, recalling holidays from several different religions and cultures, especially those pertaining to the dead or spirits of the dead. Unfortunately, none of the holidays that came to mind were happening within the timeframe October had specified.

Switching tactics, he began mentally ticking off the days of the month, attempting to correspond them with some event or holiday. “Imbolc.” His grin stretched across his face, and he was having difficulty remaining seated. “It’s coming up in two weeks at the beginning of February. It’s a celebration of the coming of spring. It’s about rebirth and renewal.”

“That hardly seems sinister,” October argued. “Is there anything else?”

“Well, there’s Ostara, the vernal equinox, but that’s not until mid-March.” Zasha may not be a witch, but he did pay attention when his mate talked. “Witches draw upon specific events for power, right? It so happens that the full moon falls on Imbolc this year. Loved ones can’t be called back from the dead, not without some pretty gruesome consequences. However, souls can be recovered from Purgatory.” While he wasn’t denying the equinox would provide the required energy, Imbolc seemed more likely since it was only two weeks away.

“Thane is the only one who can travel between the veils.”

Zasha had already thought of that, and he was even one step ahead. “Mikko is trapped in Purgatory. I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but it stands to reason that they’re trying to use Thane and Mikko to bring back some really bad mojo.”

“I think we need to talk to our resident witches. They’ll have more insight.” October rose from his seat and rounded his desk. “We don’t tell anyone until we’ve talked to the Braddocks. I don’t want to cause a panic.”

Zasha had the sinking feeling in his gut that panicking was exactly what they should be doing. “Should I get them now?” Thane and the others were in Hell’s Alley, clear on the other side of the coven. He didn’t mind trekking out into the night to find them, but Zasha hated that strip of stone holding cells. Hell’s Alley always gave him the fucking creeps.

“We’ll give them another couple of hours. If they’re not back by then, I’ll call Raith.” October leaned one hip against his desk and rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. “Update me on the victims.”

Relieved that he wouldn’t have to make the trip to Hell’s Alley, and grateful to have at least the illusion of a plan, Zasha settled back in his seat, unlocked the screen on his tablet, and brought up the correct documents. “We rescued twenty-two children in all. Other than Nix, there were also seven men and nine women. The adults have all been returned to their homes.”

“Good, good. And the children?”

“We’re working on it, but some of them are too scared to tell us anything.” He paused to swallow the lump in his throat, and he didn’t continue until he felt he could talk without his voice cracking. “Some of them are even too