The Devil Next Door

82

Wearing the shadows, Angie’s tribe remained hidden.

For some time they had been trailing the Baron’s pack. It was not too difficult. At first, Angie had been impressed by the Baron… his strength, his cruelty, his knowledge of hunting and stalking. But the more he killed, the more drunk with power he became and the more careless was his leadership.

Angie’s tribe had watched with amusement as the Baron’s pack waged war with the other pack on Providence Street. He had lost the majority of his hunters. His bravado was stronger than his wisdom. Such was the way with males.

Now they had been drawn to the house.

Angie had known it was a trap for she had been past the place several times that night and each time did not linger. But the Baron had been drawn in effortlessly. Just by a hanging bag of rotting meat and dead fish outside the back door. It drew males from blocks around. This combined with the crisscrossing female urine scents was enough to drive any male wild.

And so it had.

As Angie watched, she saw the females of the pack hang back. They knew instinctively that the yard was not a good place to be. But the Baron would not submit to their fears just as he would not submit to his own.

The tribe waited to see what would happen next.

That there was death in the house, Angie knew without question. Her only concern was that the females who lived there would get the Baron before she did. And she needed to bring him down.

Even now, she could taste the juice of his heart in her mouth…