Free Private Dicks by Samantha M. Derr Page A

from both me and the dragon.
    It doesn't hurt. It doesn't.
    "I was hoping Reese could enlighten us. A lot seems to have happened in the six hours since I last saw him." The dragon's tone is poisonous—he's obviously pissed about something, though I can't fathom what.
    I open the bag and pull out a file. "This is the entire file detailing the job the Syndicate hired me to perform six months ago." I drop it onto the table with a slap. "This is my enrollment file for Silverlight." Another file, another slap. "This is my file detailing the job Ryan ordered me to do six months ago. This is my enrollment file for Deepine and the work I've done for them since submitting my bid six months ago." Two more files, two more smacks in the dead stillness of the room. "This is my file detailing Deepine's business, along with their manufacturers for the past forty years. This is my file detailing Silverlight and allies' reaction to the expansion of Deepine into the spice trade. This is my file detailing public political disputes over land ties within the last twenty years that led to the gradual isolation of Deepine from their allies in terms of physical territory."
    The files dropping onto the table are a constant rhythm over my words now. "This is my file detailing the use of double agents within the last forty years to attempt to destabilize Deepine. This is my file detailing all of Deepine's enemies and Silverlight's allies within the past one hundred years, and why. This is my file detailing the wolves that have been kidnapped or otherwise have gone missing within the past two years, and this is a copy of the Syndicate file with samples of all the hair, saliva, and paw evidence found at the recent string of murders on the East Coast, along with the undisclosed information pertaining to traces of wolfsbane found at the scenes.
    "This is the file correlating all of the evidence found at the murder sites with the missing wolves, and this is my file detailing a stolen shipment of the rare spice only Deepine imports from a holding three years ago. This is my file correlating the evidence the Syndicate found with the information the pack keeps from its suppliers for quality control purposes."
    Finally the bag is empty, and the silence in the room is ringing. I keep my eyes on Teinen. "The string of murders on the East Coast over the last nine months was nothing more than a plan started twenty years ago to attempt to destabilize Deepine and move in on their spice trade by framing Deepine for the murders. They kidnapped enforcers and used wolfsbane on them to make it appear as if Deepine was attacking their enemies. Of course, Deepine couldn't refute the claims because they refused to get involved due to their lack of allies directly involved in the situation. It is also my belief that they wanted to divide the pack; Deepine is large and headed by a competent alpha, and therefore is a threat to the smaller packs such as Silverlight."
    The expression on the dragon's face is nothing less than stunned, and in some tiny corner of my mind, I let myself revel in the satisfaction of so thoroughly discomfiting a dragon. He clears his throat a second later, though his expression doesn't smooth out. "Like I said, wolf, who do you actually work for?"
    "I—" I clamp down on the urge to confess the truth—that I don't know anymore. "That's irrelevant," I say. "I've given you the truth. You hired me to infiltrate Deepine and find out the truth."
    The dragon drifts forward and tugs on a file from the bottom of the pile. "You belong to Silverlight."
    "Ryan took me in and raised me."
    "He told you to do—what?"
    "Plant evidence that would confirm Deepine's guilt." I keep my eyes on the dragon's cartilage piercings, don't let myself look at anything—one—else.
    "Why didn't you?"
    "I … " I swallow hard. "It wasn't right. He wants Deepine gone for petty reasons."
    The dragon frowns at me. "Was he the one who hurt you?"
    I stiffen. "Who else would?"
    A tiny