Peter
Poison.
It was the first thing that came to mind when I heard whoever Matt was speaking to talking about Lucy. It was truly the only thing that would make sense as any werewolf within the house would have heard a gunshot and smelled freshly spilled blood. Slow-acting perhaps, maybe not. Effective. Ruthless. And oddly personal. Whoever did it wanted Lucy to suffer until the last breath had left her. Maybe it was one the twins’ old lovers.
Perhaps it had been one of their old pack members who had joined Black Moon. My lips almost twitched into a smile as I ran my thumb over the smooth surface of Lucy’s hairpin in my pocket. I wasn’t worried, exactly. Poison, for the most part, tended to cause some discomfort, but unless they had used wolfsbane, it was unlikely to kill her, even if s
