Unlike the others, this email contained at least the location of the murder. The killer had even been nice enough—she snorted at the idea—to send a detailed map of where the body could be found, as well as a letter.
Good evening to you, Ms. Hawkins. You will find enclosed the proof of H. R. Alonzo’s execution, completed on this day, just after midnight.
Glen Ferris, West Virginia. It began here, Ms. Hawkins, and with God’s help, it will end here. You should know, the past never dies. As long as there is a memory, there is life. I hold the memories. I hold life. And I’ll take yet more.
I’ve tasted their blood and now I hunger. I’ve warmed myself with their fear, and I’ve laughed in joy at their deaths. And there will be more.
Six down.
Six to go.
Tell the world. There is no honor, there is no hope. I am what was created.
Tell the world. Grief ripped through her chest at the thought. If she actually went on the air with a story showing a Breed kill, the consequences would be horrendous. The world, unstable as it was in its opinion of Breeds, would turn against the creations instantly.
Their safety depended on the world believing in the justice and the honor that Breed Law demanded. It depended on the goodwill of citizens who were as fickle in their loyalties as they were in their trust.
She pushed her fingers through her hair and swallowed back a curse before saving the file and encrypting it on her laptop. She couldn’t risk its discovery, not yet, not until she figured out exactly what was going on in Glen Ferris.
The story involved more than just the deaths Jonas and Cabal had spoken of the night before. It involved much more than the Reverend H. R. Alonzo’s execution at the hands of the very creatures he preached as abominations and the scourge of God. This involved the preservation of an entire race of individuals fighting for survival.
HR was executed just after midnight. She looked at the time on the laptop. It was just after one in the morning. One hour.
She covered her face with her hands and blew out a hard breath. She couldn’t report this, not yet. But she couldn’t let it go either. She needed to know more.
Jumping to her feet, Cassa jerked the silken robe from her shoulders and tossed it to the bed. She threw open the doors to her closet and pulled out jeans and a sweatshirt, before striding to her dresser for socks and underclothes.
Glen Ferris, West Virginia, was perhaps a nine- to ten-hour drive. She could make it. She’d be dog tired by the time she got there, but she could do it.
Twelve hours, she guessed, before she could even get started finding the location. And if the body were still there? The ramifications of what she was preparing to do began to flash through her mind.
She dressed quickly, threw several outfits into a bag and grabbed an additional, already packed overnight bag from her closet. She shoved hiking boots into her bag as well as a pair of flat dressier shoes. She laced sneakers onto her feet, then grabbed her purse and cell phone.
She was hitting speed dial as she packed her laptop.
“Marv, it’s Cassa, wake the hell up,” she snapped into her news director’s answering machine. “I don’t have all night here.”
She tapped her foot, waited until the machine beeped, then hung up and called back.
“What the bloody fuck do you want, Hawkins?” Marv Rhi nard snarled with sleepy ill humor as he answered the phone.
“I’m out on a story,” she told him as she zipped up the laptop bag, pulled the strap over her shoulder and headed for the door. “Have Shelley cover me. I’ll call you and let you know what’s going on as soon as I know.”
“What’s the story?” Marv was definitely awake now.
Cassa didn’t fly off on wild-goose chases, and he knew it. If she was dumping her airtime on her stand-in, then there was a reason, and usually a damned good reason.
“I’m not sure enough of the details yet, Marv,” she informed him as she locked the door and moved down the hall to the elevator. “I’m heading to Glen Ferris, West Virginia, now. I’ll call you once I’m there.”
“It’s those damned Breeds.” Frustration filled Marv’s voice now. “Do you know those bastards are causing hell’s own mess from one end of the planet to another? There was a report last week that Wyatt threw some scientist into a volcano. I needed you in Hawaii to check that out.”
“I’d love the vacation, Boss, but no go. The volcano thing is old news and lies at that.” Or so she hoped, though she doubted it. Jonas Wyatt would definitely go for the volcano if it was feasible. “This is bigger, if it pans out. I’ll let you know more as soon as I can.”
Marv cursed again. “Fuck. I hate it when you do this. The viewers don’t like Shelley nearly as well.”
“Well, they’ll have to suck it up or watch the competition. Tell Shelley to flash cleavage and maybe a little thigh while she’s reporting. Ratings will skyrocket.”
Marv was likely foaming at the mouth, if the virulent string of curses she heard was any indication.
“Look, I have to go,” she stated imperatively as the elevator doors opened in the lobby. “Shelley will do great. The stories are waiting on her, or you can rerun some of the older stories. Try the one about that Breed Mathias and the kid he and his wife adopted. That was an interesting piece.”
The former Breed assassin and his wife had rescued an abandoned baby several months before and were now trying to adopt it.
“God, you’re pissing me off,” Marv snapped. “Fine, I’ll go through the old footage and see what we can set Shelley up with. But this better be damned good, Cass. I better see blood at the very least.”
Her stomach was still roiling at the thought of the blood she had seen. She didn’t think Marv really wanted to be a part of the massacre of the Breeds that would occur if that were shown.
“I’ll see what kind of gore I can get you, Marv,” she promised as she entered the garage and headed for her car. “I’ll call soon. I promise.”
“Better be damned soon or—” Cassa cut off the or else that usually followed. Marv was damned good with the threats and even better at yelling for hours on end if anyone was willing to listen to him.
She tossed her bags into the trunk of her car before sliding into the driver’s seat and hitting the ignition. A ten-hour drive was going to suck. Too bad the news station didn’t have their own plane; she could have used the lift.
Tossing the phone to the seat beside her, she roared from the parking garage and headed out of the city. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she fought to keep from speeding. She needed to be there now. She needed to find out what the hell was going on and why a Breed was now attempting to turn world opinion against them.
It didn’t make sense. The Breeds could be merciless, she knew it, she had seen it firsthand. But never without reason. And though H. R. Alonzo no doubt deserved a bloody death, if even half of the charges the Breeds laid against him were true, still, there were courts and trials for a reason.
Breed Law protected the Breeds against men like Alonzo. It was the reason the law had been written and was now the framework for justice at any time that Breeds were involved.
The Bureau of Breed Affairs had been established to ensure that Breeds, as well as non-Breeds, followed those mandates, and that the creations man had made were preserved in both safety and freedom.
For the most part, the world supported them, but if those pictures were flashed across the news screen without a damned good story in Breed favor to back them, then world sentiment would turn against them fast.
She glanced at the cell phone as she pulled to a stop at a traffic light and debated calling Sanctuary. She could talk to Merinus and Callan; the pride leaders of the Felines would send a team to investigate, and they would assuredly give her the story. If Jonas Wyatt and Cabal didn’t poke their busy little noses into it, just as she knew they would.