Mutt

'Chapter Five'

Lucas and Paige were at the house already, tending to Clay. When I came in the front door Paige rushed over to me and checked me up and down, making sure I was alright, "Thank god Elena, we'd been worried sick about you. What did you do? Fall in the lake?"

I beamed, "Actually it was the river." I rushed over to Clay's side. He was sprawled on the recliner, his top bare as Lucas worked on his wounds. A lump rose to my throat as I saw he'd obtained new ones since the last time we'd seen each other.

"What happened to that mutt?" his voice was gasped.

"Dead. Marsten killed him."

Clays eyes slowly trailed over to Marsten standing by the doorway and nodded, his way of saying thanks. Marsten did the same.

"What happened to you?"

Paige jumped in before Clay could waste anymore breath, "There was another one. When Lucas and I rushed over here we found him battling against this other mutt. But between the three of us we were able to fend him off. He's still alive though."

"And he wasn't one of the ones that attacked up last night." Clay said in almost a whisper, his eyes were closed, "There's also no sign of Jeremy or the kids. Everything in the house is just as they would have left them."

Lucas finished up and Clay's wound and motioned for me to come over so he could work on mine. I looked down at my arm, and then at my naked legs, "Um…I think I'm going to go put on some clothes."

I didn't know exactly what to feel about the information. As I headed upstairs I passed the twin's room, colour books sprawled across the floor, the tv paused on a picture of Arthur canoeing in a lake. Clay never approved of them watching that show, especially since half the characters on it would soon become dinner for us. Like he said, everything was just as they would have left them. I didn't know whether to feel relieved or concerned. There were no signs of a struggle, but I knew I couldn't stop worrying until they were within arms length of a hug.

I pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, shoving a brush painfully through my damp hair and pulling it back into a ponytail. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I suddenly realized something, my dossiers, and mentally kicked myself for not thinking of it sooner.

I'd spent years collecting information about every mutt that'd been known to existence. It had been my consultation for more than once occasion. I was bound to have something on at least one of the mutts.

Flipping through its pages, loose photos went flying everywhere. Too excited about this new lead, I'd forgotten all about Lucas downstairs waiting to tend to my wounds. A name caught my attention and my heart skipped a beat. Derek Munro, American mutt, lived in New York, the last time I'd encountered him was when I took my brief leave from the Pack in pursuit of a normal life. After failing miserably at the attempt and realizing my rightful place still belonged here, I'd returned to the Pack. But while on my short leave, I'd noting Munro in New York, but having been at the moment trying to relieve myself of my Pack duties, I'd simply dismissed him. A moment later and I was flying down the stairs, tripping on the last step and landing smack into the arms of Marsten coming up to get me. I managed a quick 'thanks' before bounding off the Clay.

Putting together the clues from our encounters with the four mutts, we'd managed to identify most them. Derek was one. Clay's old rival Cain, whom we'd left with a broken jaw on our honeymoon, was another. It wasn't surprising to find him wanting revenge. The guy was never going to find another sober girl willing to kiss him again. The one that Marsten had killed was Dalton, a Canadian mutt from the north, lots of open space, forests, not surprising that he had so much speed. But the one that attacked Clay before Paige and Lucas showed up was still a mystery. Though we discovered one more thing as we flipped through the pages.

"With Jeremy's reputation, they'll think that with a little negotiating they could get whatever they want," Clay said, "Marsten is a perfect example of a throw-over attempt gone good."

"So what does that mean?" Paige said.

"It means we should be expecting a photo sent of Jeremy with a daily newspaper. They won't kill him as long as he promises them whatever they want." Marsten replied.

Clay shook his head, "Jeremy would never do that. You only got your land because you helped us. These fucking bastards don't deserve anything."

"Maybe. But even if Jeremy refused to oblige to their demands they're not going to be stupid enough to kill him while you two are still on the loose," Paige said.

Lucas nodded, adding onto her, "The intelligent thing to do would be to deliver a threat, take them as hostages and make demands. Meeting them at such and such time at such and such place or else they kill them."

"Which you obviously wouldn't agree to. Since its suicide spelt with capital letter." Boy, they really were like one mind two bodies.

"But!" Clay cut himself off and grunted, "I'm done waiting. I'm done sitting here nursing my wounds while Jeremy and my kids are in the hands of psychopaths who might snap and decide to kill them at any given moment."

I couldn't have agreed with him more. But I knew if Jeremy was in my position he'd never do anything so foolish. He'd think it through calmly and decide the most reasonable solution. Just another thing that reminded me that I was no where near ready to take on Alfa. To distract myself, I flipped through the pages of my dossier. Just as the room went silent after Clay's last comment, my eyes locked on a picture. An old one, of a mutt that had already been eliminated.

About 12 years ago, there had been an uproar in killings in Miami. Bodies were found literally everywhere. Citizens were scared shit to leave their homes as soon as the sun started to fall. But it soon spread to not only the streets but people's houses. A husband would kiss his wife goodnight and go to bed only to wake up the very next morning to find her chest ripped open beside him. It seemed like too much for the doings of just one mutt so it was assumed that every mutt in the vicinity had gotten together and just decided to go on a killing spree, whether it was to make a point or simply for blood lust, the answer was never found. The Pack, under Dominic's rule, did however, send its members to eliminate every mutt there was in Miami, which now I presumed was more out of fear. It seemed to work, after a few weeks the killings had stopped, or slowed. That was who Barry Olsten was, mutt that was executed without concrete evidence of his involvement in the whole ordeal, but simply because he was a mutt outside the law of the Pack. As I looked at Olsten's picture, I found myself looking straight into the eyes of Kimberly Riven.

"Did you smell that?" Clay eyed me when I showed him the picture.

"The odd scent at the front steps."

"Yeah, it's her. She was at the house."

"But it's odd," I placed my chin on my palm, biting down hard, "Her scent wasn't even in the house, it was just outside."

"Doesn't matter," he said, "Remember everything she said to Jeremy. I bet she only said that to lure us to that abandoned house. She had access to hospital records meaning she'd have no problems finding this place-"

"Any mutt knows where Stonehaven is."

"-and it would make sense that she'd want revenge for her father."

"But that was twelve years ago, why would she wait that long to act?"

"Because she's not an idiot. Riven isn't a wolf Elena, daughters don't get the werewolf gene remember? She was probably waiting for the right opportunity, the right chance to make her move, but she couldn't make it on her own so she waited until now and aligned herself with the four mutts to get back at us. She's one of them. She could have pretended to be an innocent woman at the door and Jeremy wouldn't know the difference because she doesn't carry a werewolf smell. And when he opened the door, bam!"

"There weren't any traces of the mutts in here either remember?"

I don't know why I was defending her. True, all evidence pointed to Riven being a traitorous snake. But something about her, maybe it was her youth, or her bouncy brown curls that made me think someone with the healing touch of a doctor couldn't possibly want to hurt anyone, especially two children who hadn't done any harm to anyone except pick flowers from other people's gardens.

I looked at Clay, "You were involved in the killing of Olsten weren't you? You and Nick."

Clay opened his mouth but I was faster, "And don't say, 'and that would explain why Nick was attacked too. God Elena, get a grip and smell the evidence.'"

"If you know then why ask?"

"I was just wondering, when you killed him, didn't you feel any remorse, any guilt for it? I mean, I know orders are orders but, there may have been a chance that he was innocent."

Clay looked at me dumbfounded for a moment, and then sighed, a painful expression now on his face, "No. Don't get me wrong or anything, I feel it now, killing unjustly, but back then it was different. Dominic didn't care for moral rights. Heck, if it hadn't been for Jeremy, he would have had me killed too when I was found. His soul interest was to protect the Pack. But now I can see that it wasn't to protect that Pack itself but the Pack's secrets. Mutts had to die. There was no exception. No one looked at them and thought, hmmm… I wonder if that mutt has a back-story to him that I might want to listen to. I can see the unfairness now, but at the time, it was a job, he was a mutt, end of story, no evidence needed."

I pressed no further. Knowing this tadpole of information, we decided the best move was the try and track down Kimberly Riven, and the only lead we had on her was the last time we'd seen her, at the hospital. I called Antonio and asked if he'd seen any signs of her. He said no, not surprising. But we decided to head over anyways, just in case there was a trail that I could follow.