The Wolves and the Vipers

Chapter 10 - Where There's Smoke

I have developed many extra special ways of catching typos over the years. BUT SOME OF THEM STILL ESCAPE. So don't forget to help me find them, my childen. We will only be safe once they are all safely destroyed.

There was no ladder, as it turned out, but there was a human guy who had worked as a tree surgeon before finding out he was mated to one of the laundry girls. He was up the tree in less than five seconds, and then he was wielding a screwdriver with lethal efficiency. Meanwhile, I was standing with Jace, safely out of the way, and I was getting an explanation of why this camera was so important.

"Do you see the east wing?" he asked me. "How it's a little different to the rest of the pack house?"

"Yeah, I was going to ask about that," I said quietly.

Jace nodded. "Well, that's where I used to live - where I grew up, actually. Until it caught fire. We had to rebuild most of it."

That explained the differing paint colours, the way it was all-but boarded up, and the neglected land beside it. Evidently, he hadn't moved back in afterwards. I watched him steadily, sensing there was more, and I wasn't wrong.

"Anyway," Jace said. His voice was still steady, but I could see the muscles in his jaw beginning to tighten. "My mother and my little sister - they were both in there. They died of smoke inhalation. I mean, I sincerely hope it was smoke inhalation, because the alternative is... It's not worth thinking about."

"I'm really sorry, Jace..." I murmured. It was almost reflexive, but I didn't know what else I could say. If there were a handful of magical words with the power to take away someone's grief, I had never heard them. When I had told Jace that my mate was dead, he had said 'that's perfect, actually.' And I couldn't really do any worse than that, could I?

He just shrugged. And when it had been nearly a full minute, I gave up hoping he would be the one to break the silence.

"How old was your sister?" I asked him.

Jace was staring off into the distance, resolutely avoiding my eyes. "Three years old."

Oh, Goddess. No wonder he hadn't felt like talking about this earlier. No wonder he had tried to send me home.

My next question was a lot more hesitant. "And the fire was ... an accident?"

I was hoping it was an accident, but the way his jaw was set made me suspect otherwise.

"No," he said. "Deliberate. There were Riverside men and rogues on our land that night. It seemed to be some kind of coordinated attack. We never got a clear answer about what they were trying to accomplish. I'm hoping this camera will show me who set the fire. And Goddess willing, why."

The human guy was on solid ground now, and he had the camera tucked under one arm. He handed it over to Jace without a word, gave him a brisk nod, and then made himself scarce.

***

"Come in, come in," an elderly man said hurriedly. "Get comfortable. It might take me a while to scroll through it all. I should warn you - these old computers haven't been used in years. We'll have to hope the software still works."

He was leading us into a room that was scarcely larger than a supply cupboard. It contained no less than three computers but only two chairs. I took one, he took the other, and Jace leant against the doorway behind us both. I had scarcely sat down when a wet nose pushed its way out from under the table and nudged up against my hand, making me jump out of my skin.

But it was just attached to a tall, shaggy dog with big brown eyes and a rapidly wagging tail.

"You have a dog?" I asked incredulously.