Burn Bright (Alpha & Omega #5)(49)

“If this is what it takes to reach the people on our list,” Anna told Asil, “we’re going to be at it all night and then some.”

“Wellesley will be the most difficult,” Asil told her. “His trouble makes him a little paranoid. I thought that we should start with him and work down to the one where the only thing we can do is put a note in a mailbox and hope he checks it sometime this month.”

“List?” said a gravelly bass as the door opened.

Asil was right. His voice did sound like Johnny Cash’s, if Johnny had been born in the Carribbean instead of Arkansas.

He was a black man of about average height, with a barrel-chested build and thick, stubby fingers. For a werewolf, his face was weathered and his mouth soft.

He looked like he should make candy for a living, or stuffed toys, or some other blameless occupation. He didn’t look like an artist, and he didn’t look like someone who could harm a fly. But as much as she loved his art, he was still one of Bran’s wildlings—he was plenty dangerous.

Asil said, “List of wildlings we are visiting today.”

Wellesley was looking at Asil’s knees, but he abruptly shook his head—a decidedly canid movement that involved his shoulders. His nostrils flared, he inhaled noisily twice. He jerked his head, rocking back on his heels, then looked at Anna with widened eyes.

Almost immediately, he ducked his head so his gaze hit somewhere near Asil’s boots. She got the impression that he wanted to look anywhere but at her.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ve forgotten my manners. I don’t usually get guests. Would you like to come into my house and have some … oh tea, I suppose. I also have a little cocoa and some orange juice.”

He stood back from the door and opened it a little wider in invitation, though he was still staring mostly anywhere except for Anna. It was the mostly that was disconcerting—because when he was looking at her, his gaze was yellow and desperate.

Anna could see that the living space beyond the door was the opposite of the tight little room they were in. There was lots of light, polished woods, and open spaces. She couldn’t see any paintings within the narrow visual window that the door gave her, but she smelled oil paint and turpentine.

“Not necessary,” said Asil politely. He didn’t exactly step between her and Wellesley but near enough for everyone to understand that he considered Wellesley a threat to guard Anna from. “Wellesley, we’re here to bring a warning.” He told Wellesley about the attack on Hester and Jonesy.

As soon as Asil told him Hester and her mate were both dead, Wellesley jerked the door to his house closed—as if to protect it from damage from the words Asil was speaking. The artist leaned against the closed door and heard Asil out, a hand to his mouth, his eyes closed, and his whole body twitching.

Anna hoped that there was some way to open the door from this side that she wasn’t seeing. Maybe he had another entrance?

When Asil was finished, Wellesley waited in the silence for a while. When his body was finally still, he said, in a hushed voice, “We are betrayed.”

“Yes,” Asil said simply.

Anna blinked at him a moment. And then at Wellesley. It had taken Jonesy’s note for Anna to come to that conclusion. Maybe she was stupid, and everyone else would have seen it without the note.

“It was not I,” Wellesley stated clearly. He raised his head and stared into Asil’s eyes. “I told no one by any means that Bran was gone. I have never to my knowledge spoken to a living soul other than Bran about Hester or Jonesy—though I knew them both quite well at one time.”

He dropped his eyes away from the more dominant wolf as soon as he’d finished speaking.

Anna’s ability to suss out lies was much better than it had been when she was human, but she wasn’t like Charles, who could feel them almost before they were spoken. If she didn’t know that Charles could lie to Bran … she’d have seen Wellesley’s declaration in front of Asil as proof positive that he had not betrayed them. It complicated matters that Wellesley’s reactions had been so all over the place in the few minutes since they’d arrived. His words felt like the truth, but she’d let Asil make that determination.

Asil bowed his head at the other male, accepting his statement. And that simply, Wellesley was clear. Anna felt a wave of relief—which was ridiculous. She didn’t know the man, just loved his work.

She wondered if they could just have all of the wildlings deny their culpability. It would make their job a lot easier. She was pretty sure that Bran could make them do that, but she wasn’t sure that Charles could. Kill them, yes. Force them to answer insulting questions? Maybe not. If Charles couldn’t, then she and Asil stood no chance.

Wellesley tapped his toe on the floor and cleared his throat. Not-staring at Asil with such intent that he might as well have his eyes locked on the other wolf. Asil’s lips curled into a smile.

“It was not I,” Asil told Wellesley clearly, catching his reluctant eye and holding him in his gaze by a willpower that Anna could feel even though she was not its focus.

“I would never willingly betray a trust given to me,” Asil said. “I told no one outside of the pack that Bran was gone.”

He hesitated thoughtfully, still holding Wellesley, made a soft sound, then continued. “I did not know Hester or Jonesy except through the stories of others. I never met either of them, though I knew they were here and approximately where they lived. I cannot recall what I have said about either of them or to whom, only that I would not speak of them in name or in any detail to anyone not in this pack.