Paccia looked at the three dead bodies that were laid down on a huge table, in the middle of her living room. She studied each body with a critical eye and a grave look on her face. Their way of being killed was the same as how the homeless were killed; their eyes were cleanly gouged out and their hearts ripped out of their chests. It was gruesome. She could tell that there was no pity nor humane sympathy at how these shifters were killed. It was as if they were really hated.
She leaned closer and touched the part where a werewolf's mark should be located. The mark which shows that they were mated was gone. And she could not sense any wolf spirit in them. It seems that they were also killed. Even though these wolf spirits were able to roam the Earth after their human counterparts were killed, it seems that those killers did not leave them unharmed as well.
From what she remembers about these three dead shifters were that they were recently mated. Earlier before the bodies were brought to her, she could hear the screams of their mates at the pain of their loss. It took almost every shifter in the pack to calm them down. One of them nearly went rogue.
It was fortunate that Paccia was around so that she was able to subdue them with a spell that calms them down. But she wasn't sure whether it would last long since their wolf spirits were very strong.
At the moment, all the elders were present as they needed to subdue the grieving mates.
Paccia looked closer at the hole where their hearts should be. She sprinkled a bit of her concoction around the edges of the hole and waited patiently. A few seconds later, she watched as the edges turned black and rotten. And she continued to watch in shock as she could see the veins and blood inside the hole squirming around; its action was like as if it got electrocuted. But Paccia knew better. These shifters were forced out of their shifting. And their wolf spirits were killed before their human counterparts.
She continued to study the bodies, using her potions and spells to come up with more theories when Lachlan walked in her house. He was still wearing his uniform, looking all worn out. His hair was dishevelled, probably from him running his hair through it multiple times. Apparently, he had just left the crime scene where the bodies were first found. It took him nearly an hour to deal with the reporters and their questions. There were also questions of what had happened to the policemen who were on duty. Not wanting to cause panic, Lachlan explained that they were now being 'examined' by an expert. He had hoped to break the news carefully, in regards to their deaths.
And he was fortunate that Fergus managed to arrive at the crime scene earlier before the reporters. He did not want them to take pictures of the dead bodies and to know how these people were killed. At that moment, Fergus was dealing with the aftermath while Lachlan rushed back to the packhouse.
And before going to Paccia's, he had to go to where the grieving mates were, helping to subjugate them, together with Luella who had just returned home, as well. Luella was successful in calming them down with words, whereas Lachlan had to release his Alpha aura to calm the wolf spirits in them.
Once he was done with all that, he finally went to Paccia's house alone. Luella and the other female shifters from the pack helped to console and calm the grieving mates. Lachlan looked down at the dead bodies laid in front of him, with both of his hands in his pockets as he listened to Paccia's lengthy explanations and theories. The more she talked, the more solemn he looked. Inside his pockets, his fists were clenched. It always hurts when you see someone from your pack dies. Regret and remorse filled his mind as he listened quietly to Paccia's reports.
It was then he decided to send more people from his pack to join in the patrol albeit discreetly.
This includes the triplets.
-----
In one part of the residential area in Burkendall town, where the most of the high societies lived, inside one of the houses, there were two men, sitting across each other, talking. The house belongs to one of the candidates for the mayor position named Mateo Zant.
One was sitting behind a sturdy desk whereas the other sat across him. The one who was sitting across the other had a noticeable scar on his face, with muscular arms and a terrifying aura. They were laughing as they talked with one another. It was hours after the killings of the shifters and the homeless. Zant, being one of the mayor candidates, had posted in his social media, expressing his regrets and condolences for the homeless people and the police who had lost their lives that day.
While he was writing all that, it did not mirror his expression, where he was snickering, congratulating the killers for a job well done.
Although it wasn't him who had sent out those killers, he knew who they were.
"Everything has gone smoothly?" the man behind the desk asked as he tapped his cigar on the ashtray, removing the ashes before placing it back on his mouth to smoke.
"Yes, my lord," Mateo Zant said, smiling with both of his hands placed on top of his lap. His current look was so different to how he posed in public; confident and strong. In front of the man sitting on the desk, he looked respectful, meek and humble. It was as if he feared the man, sitting across him.
The man puffed out a smoke before stabbing the cigar inside the ashtray, crushing it. "What about the Kendall pack? Did they notice 'you'?" he asked.
Zant smirked, a menacing smile gracing his lips. "They are such fools. Even more of an idiot than the townspeople. And those townspeople? It was so easy to trick them. Just do a little charity and smile here and there and they are hooked," he laughed.
The man laughed too as he leaned back against his seat, his fingers linked together. "So, did you find him? That 'shifter'?" he asked again.
Zant shook his head. "From what I know, the Police chief is the Alpha, yet his wolf isn't him," he commented.
"You sure?"
"Affirmative. I have seen him shift and there wasn't any resemblance to 'him'. But we have confirmed that the 'wolf' should be in the Kendall pack."
"Previously, they detected the 'wolf' in the Cairin pack, didn't they?"
"Yes, my lord, they did," Zant answered respectfully, his head bowed.
"And how is it that the Cairin pack did not take notice of this?"
"It can be assumed that they were unaware of the 'wolf' and were not told to look for it."
The man narrowed his eyes as his hand softly grazed the rim of a wine glass that was on the table.
Noticing the hint, Zant quickly stood up and grabbed his best wine and poured into the wine glass. He then humbly presents the wine glass to the man, with his head bow, as if he was a butler tending to his master's needs.
The man drank the wine in one go and threw the wine glass, hitting it on the wall across the room. Zant flinched as he could tell that the man was extremely angry.
"Rehan."
A man suddenly appears beside the man, standing respectfully, with his head bow and hand across his heart. "Yes, my lord."
"Cooperate with this imbecile and make sure that 'wolf' is to be found."
"Yes, my lord."
The man turned to Zant, who was shivering furiously beside Rehan and continued,
"Resume your search and immediately kill him. Make no mistake. I want that wolf to be found. I do not want him to be alive. He might not have his full powers at the moment but before he can gain them, I want him dead."
"Yes, my lord."
He's back!