Chapter 1:

GABRIEL

I woke, startled, my heart racing, shivering with cold from where I’d shoved away the covers. Lost in a panicked fear, I rolled over to search for Tiber, my fingers grazing his warm, sleep-mussed hair. His steady breathing should’ve been comforting, but I’d woken filled with a sense of dread.

From the familiar shadows in the room, I guessed it wasn’t much past dawn, as yet again, I’d been forced out of sleep by a nightmare, getting lost deeper into memories that never made sense. A familiar, insistent nudge of a cold, wet nose at my hand was a reminder of why I wasn’t still asleep. I leaned over to look down at the side of the bed. Duke was there, sitting on the floor, whining low in his throat, his tail slowly wagging dust bunnies along the floor as he stared up at me. Clearly I’d been gripped in a nightmare and our yellow Lab, Duke, had pulled me out before the pain and memories became too much for me to control.

Before I hurt Tiber.

“Thanks, buddy,” I whispered, scratching behind his velvety ears.

He licked my hand before padding to the bedroom door and curling up in the bed we kept there. I lay back on my pillow, closed my eyes, torn between wanting to remember what I’d been dreaming about, and wanting to find some kind of dreamless sleep. Tiber shifted next to me, rolled my way, and I opened my eyes to get my fill of the gorgeous man who’d invited me into his life. I gently tugged him closer, and he murmured in his sleep and tucked his face into my neck, the spill of his dark hair across my shoulder. His deep, rhythmic breathing almost lulled me back to sleep. Almost.

I’ve never felt the kind of love I had for Tiber with anyone. He was the other half of my heart, if we talked, if we sat in silence, if we played with the pack, or watched movies, I was at complete peace with him, and I could hold him forever like this.

When sleep evaded me, and my bladder insisted I get up, I gave up on the hope of more rest, then eased out of bed, careful not to wake Tiber, and into the bathroom. The splash of cold water on my face worked wonders, but the shower helped chase away some of the final shadows, and I almost felt ready to face the day. Wrapped in a towel, I headed back into the bedroom, but Tiber’s side of the bed was empty. I found him, rubbing his eyes sleepily, staring at the coffee pot.

“Morning,” he mumbled, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on my lips. “You okay?” he asked.

I hesitated before sighing. There was no point in hiding what happens in my sleep when Tiber understood nightmares.

“Either Duke or my nightmares woke me up, and I’m sure it was Duke.”

Tiber ran his fingers through Duke’s fur affectionately. “Good boy,” he murmured. “Get dressed; coffee will be waiting.

I hugged him from behind, inhaling the scent of him, all warm and sleepy. “I could be late if you wanted,” I suggested with a leer and a nibble to his shoulder.

“I have a client call in exactly thirty minutes,” Tiber eased himself away, and I swear I pouted, because he snorted a laugh. “If the town could see you now.” He reached up and straightened my damp hair, then skimmed my cheeks before resting a finger briefly on my lower lip and smiling. “Big bad sheriff, all damp, naked, and pouty.”

I couldn’t help kissing his smile, because jeez, he was my Tiber, and he was everything.

As I dressed he began recounting his schedule and talking to the animals as he let them out, but my concentration went back to trying to pierce through the fog to recall that elusive dream. It was frustrating, knowing why I had the nightmares, but never getting to the point where I could resolve the things that caused them. As it was, the resolution was back in the city with the feeling of something lurking just out of reach.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee began to waft from the kitchen, grounding me. Tiber had a way of grounding me, always knowing what I needed even before I did. “… so I said I’d fit him in at ten, and he seemed good with that,” he finished, pouring two cups of caffeine and sliding one toward me along with a plate of toast.

“Huh?”

“My new client, at ten.”

I groaned. “Sorry, I was listening.” I nibbled at the toast and jelly, and Tiber shook his head, although he was still smiling. Thank goodness I hadn’t let the nightmares take me too far away that he was giving up on me. “New client, you fitted him in.”

“Yeah, so wish me luck.”

Patch took that moment to jump up on the counter, but Tiber shooed the calico down and then got an armful of purring and fur for his troubles. Something inside made me want to stay right here with him, with the dogs and the cats, and Renfield, and maybe we could even invite Frank the tortoise in from the yard. Then we could just cuddle on the sofa, and I wouldn’t be able to move an inch.

I didn’t do any of that, I hustled out of the door, ready for the day, and then headed straight back to steal one more kiss. Just to keep me going.

“Can you pick up milk on the way home?” Tiber asked as he broke away with another smile then leaned down to organize bowls of food for the various pack members.

“Sure.”

I waved, he grinned, I left.

And thankfully the effects of the nightmare had slipped away.

We lived fifteen minutes from the sheriff’s office, but I had the new Beach Boys album Tiber had gotten me for Christmas to keep me company. I was singing along with ‘California Girls’ as I turned out from Tiber’s lane to the main road when my radio crackled.

“Sheriff Thompson?” Devin sounded stressed already, but given he’d lost his focus over the case of a missing file only yesterday, I wondered if he was carrying that over.

“Go ahead.”

“There’s been an incident at the Thompson cabins.”

A cold prickle of dread ran down my spine and my chest tightened. “What?”

I immediately pressed my foot to the pedal for more, swerving to avoid potholes, and considering the best way to get there as fast as I could, as if I could beat time and get there to stop whatever was wrong. Was it the kids? What about my brother? What about his wife Lori?”

“There’s a body, a tourist called it in.”

“Is it my…” I couldn’t think. “My family.”

“Shit, no, sorry, sir, I meant, it’s not your family.” He went deadly quiet.

I indicated to leave the road to town and take a back way to the cabins. “I’ll be there in two, shut down the scene.”

When I arrived, I landed in chaos. I instantly sought out Sam who was standing by the stables, his hands under his arms, and Lori standing by him, holding onto him. I couldn’t see the twins, but this was a crime scene, and my brother wouldn’t do anything that stupid. Right.

“You both okay?” I asked him, and he nodded as I gripped his arm. “The kids?”

Sam blanched, wordless, and it was Lori who had to answer.

“I dropped them at daycare, found the body when I came back.”

“You found the deceased?” I asked her.

She shook her head, and pointed at a woman who was being comforted by a grim-looking Devin.

“Stay here,” I told my brother and his wife. “Right here.”

Next up was the woman and the crime scene, and fuck, how had this happened in Prophet again?

“Sir,” Devin nodded.

“Ma’am,” I stopped in front of the tourist, in a heavy coat, the hood pulled up, her hair wet under there probably from the rain that I’d woken up to, and her blue eyes red with tears.

“There’s a… there’s…” she pointed behind the stables, to an area cordoned off with tape.

“She was booked in for the early ride,” Sam said from next to me.

I sent him a glance of disapproval. “Jeez Sam, you need to stay back,” I said.

He winced. My relationship with my brother was mending slowly, and maybe I could have couched the order in pretty words, but this was a crime scene. He nodded sharply then stepped back.

Devin awkwardly held the crying woman and patted her back, inclining his head to whatever was behind there, and I steeled myself for whatever it was. When I left the city I thought I’d left murder behind, yet in a short year I’d been faced with two murders, and now… maybe three. Maybe there was a reason for this body to be there, an old person who’d died of natural causes or maybe it was an animal and the tourist, and seemingly others, had exaggerated what they saw.

“What have we got?” I asked Devin, but he couldn’t ease himself away from the tourist.

He looked grim. “One male, multiple wounds. I didn’t look at them too closely.”

I nodded, processing the information. “Witnesses?”

He inclined his head toward the tourist and then nodded at Sam and Lori. Great. That didn’t help much given the tourist claimed she’d found a body, and Sam and Lori lived here.

Okay then.

I stepped around the corner, lifted the tape, and then stopped in my tracks.

This wasn’t the lifeless ritually displayed body of Mike Bressett, or the goriness of Billy Odette, this was a silent sprawling death. If it wasn’t for the blood, the man, larger than average build, on his back, his legs and arms sprawled, would look as though he were asleep. Blood soaked his white shirt, a businessman, smart pants, a tie hung loose around his neck, still wearing both shoes, and his eyes were closed. One of his hands was curled into a fist, the other open, and there was no need to check for vitals because this was death at its most real. The overhang of the stables had protected the body from the rain, and by his foot there was a soft leather man bag, the strap snapped apart.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I radioed in. “Dispatch, this is Sheriff Thompson.”

“Go ahead, sheriff,” Hen’s voice was professional, but I could hear the question in her tone.

Shit. Shit.

“Dispatch,” I took a deep breath. “We have a homicide at the Thompson cabins. Get forensics here.”

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