Bloodlines (EBOOK)

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Chapter One

The mountains in the distance stood like timeless guardians watching everything unfold. The tall grass waved in the gentle breeze. Birds chirped to one another. Squirrels jumped from branch to branch, searching for their precious nuts. Nothing seemed out of place.

Nothing but the decapitated body at his feet.

The scent of blood and death hung heavy in the air. Malcolm ignored it and concentrated on the scene before him.

Only the grass under the body was disturbed—flattened and blood soaked. He had made his own path to the body after he received the call. A pilot of a small plane had been flying low and spotted it. Luckily, the pilot was one of his.

Unluckily, so was the man on the ground, or at least what was left of him.

"What the hell! Is that Donald?"

"It is." Malcolm's gaze never left the remains of a man he had known for decades as he answered the new arrival. While not friends exactly, nor what others might call family, Donald had been part of his clan. And the clan was family. Protecting the clan fell on his shoulders. The responsibility weighed heavily on him, but it was his number one priority.

"Tell me what you see, Brody."

"Shit. I see a man I've known since he was a boy lying dead on the ground with his damn head next to him. What the hell do you think I see?"

Malcolm pinned his gaze on Brody standing next to him. "Look past your anger and pain and tell me what you see. You're a deputy sheriff now. Use your training and instincts and describe the scene."

His voice didn't rise. The grief and anger pounding at his skull didn't show in his tone, nor did he allow it to reflect on his face. His father's words echoed in his mind as they often did, "A leader must always be strong and calm, never let your people see you falter. They depend on you. Don't let them down."

Brody rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and then crouched down next to the body. "There's bruising on his wrists. He was restrained. Multiple abrasions. He was beaten." Careful not to disturb the body, he lifted the remnants of the torn clothing on his torso and legs with the tip of a pen. His voice grew stronger as he described the damage done. "His legs were restrained as well. It appears he was tortured for some time."

"What else?"

The young deputy let out a rough sigh and closed his eyes for a second before opening them and examining the body again. "I smell an odd scent—one I don't recognize. He inspected all around the body and then behind them to the path they made to get there. "How the hell did they dump him here? We stomped down the grass to get here, but there's no sign of anyone else. I better call the coroner and get him out here."

"No."

Malcolm glanced down at where Brody crouched on the ground. "Call Davis and Greer—quietly. Don't tell them why, just get them out here."

Brody stood up and made the calls. He gave the address to both before ending each conversation. Davis and Greer would arrive in fewer than ten minutes. He gazed once more down at the body and then all around the area. "All right, Davis I understand. He's got the best nose. If anyone can identify a scent, he can. But why Greer? He's security on the compound, not here in town."

"This is clan business."

"Yes, it's just…well, Greer can be a bit rough around the edges, and with all the people that are going to be out here documenting the scene and everything, it might not be a good idea to have him here. He’s more likely to growl than speak half the time. Heck, he rarely talks to the locals at all. He makes folks nervous, real nervous."

"Brody, how did Donald die?"

"Well, I'm not a coroner, but I think it's pretty obvious. He was decapitated."

"Yes, and with your albeit limited experience with dead bodies as a deputy sheriff here in Clovertine County, Wyoming, how common do you think it is as a means of murdering someone?"

"Shit."

"Exactly. There will be no coroner, or anyone else witnessing this. Certainly not a human. Once Davis and Greer get here, the three of you will remove the body and any trace of it. Greer will show you how. I will inform Donald's family of his death. The why or how will remain among the four of us until I have answers. Only one of us could have deposited his body here without a trace. Only one of us would know decapitation is the most effective way to kill one of us. A Risharden did this, and I will know who and why."

"You can't think it was one of our clan? We'd smell it on him. No one in our clan could disguise their scent so well."

"Ours isn't the only clan, now is it?"

"You think another clan did this? But it would be a sign of war!"

"I deal in facts, Brody. Until I have all the facts, there will be no supposition. Am I clear? This stays among us. One mention of the possibility of war amidst the clans and there will be panic. When people panic, reasoning goes out the window. I will not have any member of the clan striking out in revenge. We don't know what happened here yet."

"Got it, boss."

"Don't call me boss."

"Well, you don't like it when anyone calls you Lord, either. What is it you want people to call you?"

"Malcolm. That is my name. Lords don't exist here anymore, at least not without attracting unwanted attention. And technically, the sheriff is your boss, not me."

The low hum of an approaching engine reached Malcolm's ears long before the vehicle sped into view. "Here are Davis and Greer."

The two clan security officers approached. Not a word was spoken as they arrived at the crime scene and bent down to examine the body and area.

Greer stood first and searched the sky in all directions.
Davis rose next and frowned down at the body. "A Risharden did this, but not one I've ever been in contact with."

Greer focused his intense stare on Malcolm. "Orders?"

"Clear away any trace of the body. Burn it and save some of the ashes to present to his parents for the passing ceremony. I don't need to tell either of you how critical silence is. We'll have a meeting tonight with the four of us and Owen. We need to investigate this quietly and thoroughly."

The three men in front of Malcolm nodded in unison.
Malcolm stared at the body one more time. "I'll leave you to it. I was supposed to be in a meeting at the hotel an hour ago. I'll see you tonight, ten o'clock, my office."

****
Evergreens interspersed with cottonwood trees lined the entrance road to the resort. Malcolm usually liked to take his time on the meandering drive. It was the window dressing before the big reveal. The massive log structure of the hotel preened at the head of the road like a grand old dame waiting for everyone to come pay her homage.
Today, he sped into the parking lot and pulled up front instead of parking his truck himself. He tossed his keys to the waiting valet and jogged up the stone steps to the entrance. He mentally shuffled through his schedule for the day. He would need to cancel or shift around his appointments. This business with Donald had just become priority number one. The hotel business, while important, paled in comparison. His brother, Owen, oversaw the resort now. Malcolm was in an advisory position only. Owen wanted him to meet the new manager he had hired to take over handling the day-to-day aspects of running the hotel, so Owen could focus on managing the whole resort.

The hotel had been opened by his family over a hundred years ago as another means of revenue for the clan. It had flourished over the past couple of decades to become a five-star resort, a double-edged sword he wasn't sure should continue to thrive. It produced a significant income, but it also meant humans arrived with the income. Too many humans around were always a liability. Yet, the clan also needed to adapt and fit in. Some, especially the elders, tended to want to stay on the compound and not mingle with any outsiders. That too, could raise suspicions.

Malcolm nodded at the few employees who gathered the courage to greet him as he made his way to the offices. Owen often criticized him for being too intimidating and scaring the human employees, but it wasn't his job to be friendly. His job was to lead his people.

He opened the door to the conference room and stopped dead in his tracks.

The woman stood abruptly and opened her mouth to speak, only to close it without a word. The smile beginning to form on her lips dissolved.

She was tall for a woman, almost six feet. At six-foot-four, he was used to having to look down at most people. Her light blonde hair was loosely drawn back into a bun. He wanted to see it hang free.

Honey brown eyes met his gaze, widened, and blinked slowly. The loud thumping of her heartbeat reached his ears. His own was elevated as well. Malcolm gripped the door handle. He wanted nothing more than to close the door and find out if the plump pink lips she was currently chewing on tasted as good as they appeared.

Instead, he stepped back into the hall and slammed the door. Malcolm marched down to Owen's office and entered without knocking or slowing, shutting the door with a backhanded shove. “I want that woman in the conference room fired and off the property immediately,” he spat out savagely.

Owen dropped the pen he held and stared at Malcolm. His gaze slid to the door and then scanned over him like he was cataloguing everything. His eyes widened, and a smile twitched at his lips.

Malcolm propped his hands on his hips and glared at his brother, who stared at him in what could only be described as amused wonder. Damn it. The woman needed to go. She was a temptation he couldn't have around right now—or ever. His body chose the wrong time to decide it wanted someone. He had long ago made the decision not to partake in the dalliances many others chose to. Partly because he could only have a true relationship with his mate. Mostly because he had too many responsibilities as it was and didn't want another one.

Their race received one true mate. Some Rishardens had no interest in sex until they found their mate. Unfortunately, it was a rare occurrence these days. With so few of their race left, mates were in short supply, and since they could only reproduce with their true mates, children were rare as well. But Elsie couldn't be his mate. She was human. It wasn't possible, was it? He had never heard of such an occurrence.

The odds of him ever finding a mate were astronomical, but that was a good thing. Mates made you vulnerable. Mates made you forget where your true loyalties and responsibilities lay. And mates and the possible children they could produce were liabilities he didn't want.

"May I ask what Elsie could possibly have done to warrant such a reaction from you? Granted, this is her first official day as hotel manager, but she's already been here several days meeting all the employees and getting to know the routines. I'm sure I told you when I hired her, she comes highly recommended, and we're lucky to get her."

Malcolm slashed his hand through the air. "She's not right for the hotel. Find someone else."

Owen stared at him a moment longer before picking up his pen and looking back at the papers on his desk. "No."

Malcolm wasn't used to his orders being questioned, except by Owen. He valued his brother's counsel so much because Owen did question him. He didn't treat him as Lord of the clan. If he didn't agree with something, he made sure to express it.

"Owen."

"Malcolm, you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with the day to day running of the resort. You were the one who told me to hire a manager and stop trying to do everything myself. Amazing advice you fail to heed yourself, I might add. I like Elsie. I think she's perfect for the hotel. She's already taken a load off my shoulders. I'm not firing her when she's already relocated here. She stays."

"Owen, there are things you are not aware of. I can't explain here. We're having a meeting tonight at ten."

"And this concerns Elsie?"

"Not directly, no, but it's not a good idea to allow strangers around right now."

"Not good enough, Malcolm. She stays."

Malcolm left without a word, closing the door quietly behind him.

****
Elsie paced back and forth in the conference room. What had just happened? She had been waiting for over an hour for her new boss's brother to show up. She had lost track of time making the new employee schedules she wanted to implement, so it wasn't like she had been anxiously waiting for his arrival. Clearly, she should have, because she knew without a doubt the man who had just stormed out of here was Malcolm Donovan.

The employees had imparted tidbits about him over the past week. The women whispered how handsome he was and how tall. The men used words like powerful, decisive, and a real man's man. Whatever that meant.
The gossip hadn't done him justice.

Handsome was just too tame a word for his dark blond hair, piercing green eyes, and sun bronzed skin. Tall was an understatement. He towered over her, and with her modest heels, she hit six feet. She could understand where the powerful description derived from. He oozed the attributes from his pores. As for being decisive, she had an ominous feeling she had just witnessed it in action and not in her favor. He appeared to have judged her incompetent without ever saying a word.

She prided herself on being honest always, especially with herself. She may have not put forth the best first impression after being struck speechless by his abrupt appearance and departure. However, in her defense, she’d never experienced such an overwhelming attraction to any man before, and it momentarily struck her dumb. He was probably used to woman responding to him that way—since most of the female employees were half in love with him.

Well, he had no worries there. She would not be one of them. She tugged the bottom of her suit top down and straightened her spine. Elsie Monroe was a professional. Ask any of her former employers and they would tell him how professional and capable she was.

She may have had a momentary lapse, but she was so over it. Rude, insufferable men weren't worth an ounce of her time. If he thought he could fire her, he was in for a surprise. She had a contract, and he didn't have a single leg to stand on. It was her first official day, damn it.

Armed with the knowledge she was in the right, Elsie left the conference room, stalked down the hall to Owen Donovan's office, and knocked on the door. She intended to handle this right now, before she lost her nerve.

She opened the door at his summons and straightened her shoulders, ready to launch into a speech about her contract.

"Come in Elsie. I was just going to call you. Have a seat."

"Mr. Donovan…"

Owen smiled at her. "Elsie, I told you we're not so formal around here. Call me Owen, and please have a seat."

Elsie blinked and wondered if she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. Owen was being his friendly self. If his brother had decided to fire her, he wouldn't be acting so normal. Would he?

Shutting the door behind her, she crossed the room, and took a seat in the chair facing his desk, a chair she had already been in several times during the interview process and in the past week as she learned the inner running of the hotel. Those times she had been excited to embark on her new adventure, and had appreciated the butter soft, leather wing chairs in front of his big, oak desk. Now, Elsie perched on the edge of the chair and nibbled on her bottom lip.

"I take it the meeting with my brother didn't go well?"

"Mr…" His raised eyebrow prompted her to start over.
"Owen, there was no meeting with your brother. When he arrived, he didn’t say a single word. He took one look at me and left." Thinking it best not to sound like a whining child, she didn’t mention he had been more than an hour late.

"He seemed rather agitated, however." To put it mildly.
"Is there something I have done or not done? Has my performance been unsatisfactory? I would be happy to discuss any concerns. As I said when you hired me, I believe honest, open communication is the key to any successful business. I would also like to add my contract states several means that are grounds for dismissal, but since today is my first day, I doubt I could've accomplished any of them."

Owen held up a hand. "Elsie, please, you're not being fired. I am pleased with your performance so far, and I think you make a wonderful addition to the hotel."

Elsie settled back into the chair and took a deep breath. The faint scent of leather and a tinge of lemon cleaner were in the air. Her gaze flitted across the contents of his desk to his face. "Thank you, Owen."

He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands against his abdomen. "Elsie, my brother is the owner on record of the resort, but as I reminded him, he put the running of the business into my hands. He won't interfere. He's a busy man with a lot of responsibilities. He may come off a bit gruff, but you have nothing to worry about. Your job is secure. I doubt you will even see him, as he doesn't come into the hotel much anymore."

"I see." No, she didn't. But if her job was secure and had the bonus of not having to deal with him, she was fine.

She rose. "I'll get back to work then."

"Thank you, Elsie."