Written in Red

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Written in Red Page 15

by Anne Bishop


  Because he dealt with humans so much, he needed a day with the Wolfgard, needed his own kind. That was the trap for Others who had excessive contact with humans—if you adapted too much in order to deal with them, you ran the risk of forgetting who you were and you could end up being neither and nothing. That was why even Sam’s distress at seeing him as a Wolf wasn’t enough for him to give up what he needed for himself.

  But Henry’s message on the answering machine this morning had him breaking his own rule, since the Beargard had made it clear that it was the Wolfgard in human form that was needed at the studio.

  He got dressed, then stopped in the living room to make sure Sam had food and water—and hadn’t messed in the cage. Since he was in this form anyway, he’d take the pup out before shifting to fur and meeting Blair and some others for a run.

  After considering the benefits of walking from the Green Complex to the studio in order to give the human form exercise, he went around to the garage and got one of the BOWs. He made sure this form got plenty of exercise. Today, the sooner he could shed this skin, the happier he would be.

  A couple more inches of snow had fallen overnight. Combined with what was still on the Courtyard roads, it added a little sliding excitement to an ordinary drive—and reminded him to talk to the terra indigene who worked at the Utilities Complex and also handled clearing the Courtyard’s roads. If Meg was going to be out making deliveries tomorrow, he’d have Jester explain about sticking to the main roads to avoid getting stuck. The BOWs could handle the snow just fine—as long as the driver wasn’t stupid.

  When he reached the Courtyard’s business district, he parked the BOW in the employee parking lot, which put him in between the Market Square and the other shops, including Henry’s studio. Getting out of the BOW, he stopped and listened to the rhythmic sound of someone using a snow shovel.

  Leaving the parking lot, Simon walked around the garages, then stopped when he saw the footprints outside the Liaison’s Office. There were no deliveries on Earthday, so there shouldn’t be fresh footprints coming out of the office this morning.

  He walked up to Henry, who was shoveling the area between the back doors of the shops and the Liaison’s Office. Removing the snow. Eliminating the footprints.

  “Hard not to leave a trail when there’s fresh snow,” Henry said. The look in the Grizzly’s eyes made Simon wary, especially after Henry added, “We had a visitor last night.”

  Simon looked at the office’s back door. “An intruder?”

  “Not there,” Henry said, tipping his head toward the office. Then he wagged his thumb toward the stairs leading up to the efficiency apartments.

  For a moment, Simon just stared at Henry. Then he absorbed the meaning of the words and snarled as his canines lengthened, his nails changed, and fur sprang out on his chest and back.

  “I told Meg we had rules about visitors. I told her . . .” He choked on the fury rising inside him—fury that wanted to rip and tear and destroy this strange and awful feeling of betrayal and the person who had caused it.

  “Simon.”

  He’d thought she was different from the other damn monkeys. He’d thought there was finally one of them the terra indigene might be able to work with, despite the way she made him half crazy with the not prey confusion. He’d consented to let her have a map of the Courtyard because she seemed to want to do her job. If he’d wanted a liar as their Liaison, he would have hired that Asia Crane!

  “Simon.”

  Hearing the warning in Henry’s voice, he made an effort to stuff himself back into the human skin.

  “If you want to sneak a visitor past us, you don’t have him break the lock on the street door. And you don’t call attention to someone’s presence by yelling loud enough to be heard by the Grizzly staying in the apartment across the hall.”

  “She didn’t know you’d be there,” Simon said, choking on the effort to get his teeth back to human size.

  “Yes, she did. I saw her in the Market Square yesterday and told her I would be there so she wouldn’t be frightened if she heard me.”

  Frightened. The word cleared away his fury and let him think again.

  Meg was hiding from something or someone. He’d realized that when he hired her, but he’d been chasing his tail so much because of her—or dodging to avoid having it stomped on by someone else—he’d forgotten she had run away from something or someone.

  He looked at the footprints coming out of the office.

  “After the intruder ran off, she slipped out and spent the night on the sorting table,” Henry said.

  Too afraid to stay in her own den? Unacceptable!

  It took effort to shape words. “Did you see the intruder?”

  “Not well enough. But I got the scent of him, and I’ll recognize it again if he comes around.”

  If this stranger was hunting Meg, he would come around again. “Can’t get that lock fixed until tomorrow.” A Wolf and a Hawk were learning how to change and fix locks. They might be able to replace that broken one, but the Courtyard had an understanding with a lock company, and being willing to teach Others this skill was the reason Simon did business with Chris at Fallacaro Lock & Key.

  “The Owls who kept watch last night will keep watch again,” Henry said. “I’ve already talked to a couple of Hawks and some of the Crows about keeping watch on this part of the Courtyard today. And I’ll be staying at the efficiency apartment again tonight.”

  “What about today? With the stores closed, she’ll be alone up there during the day.” Not likely that someone would come in daylight, but imagining Meg by herself all day felt too much like watching a deer that was the perfect prey because it was separated from the rest of the herd.

  And that reminded him too much of Daphne and Sam running alone that terrible night, thinking they were safe.

  “Should we call the police?” Henry asked.

  “And tell them what? That someone broke a lock? Nothing was taken. We aren’t sure the intruder was after Meg. We’ve had people try to sneak in and use the apartments. Could have been someone who just wanted to get out of the cold for a night and thought they could slip away before we noticed.”

  “That’s called trespassing,” Henry pointed out. “Humans have a law against it too.”

  “We’ll deal with it our own way,” Simon said. “I’ll get another shovel and help you clear the snow.” And erase the footprints that might tell a different kind of predator where to find his prey.

  “What about Meg?”

  She hadn’t asked for his help. It bothered him that she hadn’t asked for his help. He was the Courtyard’s leader, after all. “We’ll keep watch today. Tomorrow we’ll consider what else might be needed.”

  Like getting some answers about who she was running from—and why someone would want her back.

  * * *

  Meg heard the howling as soon as she turned off the shower. Sounded like a whole pack of them was right under her windows. Drying off as quickly as she could, she wrapped the towel around her head, pulled on a bathrobe, and went to the windows to look out.

  No sign of them, but judging by the way a car skidded as it came abreast of the Courtyard’s parking lot and the driver tried to accelerate to get away from whatever he saw, they weren’t far away.

  There had been no sign of Henry when she hurried back to her apartment. Did he work in his studio on Earthday, or was she alone in this part of the Courtyard? Merri Lee had told her none of the shops were officially open on Earthday, but the library was never locked, and in the morning a couple of the Others served leftovers at the Market Square’s restaurant, Meat-n-Greens. So she could walk over to the restaurant for a meal and then spend some time browsing through the library’s books.

  Another howl, easily heard despite the closed windows.

  We are here
.

  Above her, somewhere on the roof, she heard several Crows cawing.

  We are here.

  Something that had been wound tight inside Meg since last night began to relax. There weren’t any humans around this part of the Courtyard today, but she wasn’t alone. She could spend the afternoon reading or napping, maybe even do some chores now that she’d learned how to clean. Not all human stores were closed on Earthday, so there were cars going by—including, she noted before stepping away from the window, a police car. She would be safe enough while there was daylight.

  She could decide later about where she would hide after dark.

  * * *

  That afternoon, Asia Crane slowly drove past the entrance to the Liaison’s Office and the consulate. As usual on Earthday, a chain stretched across the street entrance, a metal Closed sign hanging from the center. It was a simple but efficient way to keep people from using the delivery area as a parking lot for the restaurants and other businesses across the street from the Courtyard.

  Bigwig hadn’t been able to give her any information about the white van or the driver who seemed to be casing the Courtyard. Probably nothing more than a disgruntled husband or boyfriend looking for an opportunity to haul his dumb-ass woman back home. Although why anyone would go to that much trouble for no-looks Meg was a mystery.

  She didn’t care about the who, how, or why as long as Meg no longer filled the Liaison’s job, leaving it open for her to have another shot at access to the Courtyard.

  Damn it! There wasn’t anything that looked like the Help Wanted sign taped to the office door. That meant White Van Man hadn’t taken care of business yet. Well, she might be able to help with that.

  Tomorrow she would make a two-prong attack. She would test her welcome at Howling Good Reads, and she would make an effort to befriend Meg.

  Her next step would depend on her reception, but one way or another, Simon Wolfgard was going to pay for her backers becoming impatient with her lack of progress.

  CHAPTER 7

  Simon flipped the lock on Howling Good Reads’ front door, flipped the sign to Open, put on the wire-rimmed glasses, and started the rest of the routine for opening the store.

  A minute after he opened HGR, Asia Crane strutted through the door. She was a determined bitch, so he wasn’t surprised that even a bad scare hadn’t kept her away for long. If he’d liked her at all, he might have admired her determination to lure him into having sex.

  And if he ever found out she was sniffing around the Courtyard—and him—for something more than a walk on the wild side, he would kill her.

  Asia gave him a slashing look as she opened her parka and walked toward the display of new books, every bump of her hips a sharp movement in the skintight jeans.

  He watched the shallow way her chest rose and fell under the short, tight sweater, watched the way her encased hips kept moving even though she was picking up books and looking at the back copy—almost like she didn’t dare stop moving because there was a good chance she wouldn’t be able to start up again. When he saw her little, self-satisfied smile, he realized she was watching him watch her. Why would she be satisfied? Considering the way she struggled to expand her chest, she didn’t even look bitable this morning.

  Or maybe he was still full from the deer they’d brought down yesterday and wasn’t interested in another weak animal.

  “Mr. Wolfgard?”

  He focused his amber eyes and most of his attention on Heather, one of his human employees.

  “If you’re going to man the register, do you want me to stock the shelves?” She gave him a hesitant smile and suddenly smelled nervous.

  “You are a sensible female,” he said, raising his voice so Asia would stay at the new books display and not feel the need to slink over to hear what he was saying.

  “Thanks,” Heather said. “Um . . . why? I haven’t done anything yet.”

  He waved a hand at her. “Your clothes don’t lock up your body. You can take a full breath. If you were being chased, you wouldn’t fall down after a few steps from lack of air.” He was thinking of her escaping a human pursuer. A Wolf would run her down in seconds whether she could breathe or not.

  Heather stared at him.

  He continued to study her, understanding by the fear scent that he had taken a misstep somewhere in the past minute. He’d been indicating approval, because it was now clear to him that Asia did those exaggerated hip movements to hide the fact that she couldn’t walk quickly without being out of breath. He didn’t know what he’d said that had frightened Heather, but the look in her eyes made him think of a bunny just before it tries to run.

  Even when he wasn’t hungry, he liked chasing bunnies.

  “I’ll go stock some of the shelves,” Heather said, backing away from him.

  “All right.” He tried to sound agreeable so that she wouldn’t quit. Vlad hated doing the paperwork as much as he did when a human employee quit, which was why they’d both made a promise not to eat quitters just to avoid the paperwork. As Tess had pointed out, eating the staff was bad for morale and made it so much harder to find new employees.

  When Heather came out of the back room with a cart of books—instead of running out the back door after leaving the words I quit on a note taped to the wall, like a couple of previous employees had done—he turned his attention to Asia.

  She must have been waiting for that moment. Her cheeks were a blaze of color and she looked ready to spit stone. She slammed a book back down on the display and raised her chin.

  “I guess there isn’t anything of interest here this morning,” she said coldly.

  “Then you should go,” he replied. “Although . . .” He vaulted over the counter, went to the other side of the display, picked up a book, and held it out. “You might find this one interesting.”

  It was one of the horror books written by a terra indigene. The cover was black with the open mouth of a Wolf just before it took a bite out of its enemy. Or maybe it was the second bite, since there was a little blood on the teeth.

  Asia forgot everything she knew about Wolves and bolted out the door.

  He watched her run toward the parking lot and decided two things: one, she couldn’t run worth a damn in those clothes, and two, on her, he found the fear scent agreeable.

  * * *

  Monty adjusted the collar of his overcoat with one hand while he knocked on his captain’s doorway.

  “Come in, Lieutenant,” Captain Burke said, waving him in while most of his attention remained on the sheet of paper he was studying. “Are you getting settled in all right?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you for asking.”

  Yesterday he’d gone to the temple near his apartment building and had found some peace and fellowship there. Then he called Elayne in the hope of talking to Lizzy, and got stonewalled. Lizzy had never been allowed to go over to a friend’s house before the midday meal on the day of rest and meditation. He didn’t think Elayne would change that rule, but if she had, it was only to deny him some time to talk to his little girl. Until that phone call he’d still thought of himself as Elayne’s lover, despite the current estrangement, but she made it clear she was looking for someone whose social standing would erase the “stain” he’d put on all their lives.

  And that told him plainly enough that his chances of talking to Lizzy, let alone having her come to visit during her summer vacation, had gone from slim to none.

  “A couple of calls about Wolf sightings yesterday,” Burke said. “You can hear them howling for miles, so people are used to that, but having Wolves gather in the Courtyard parking lot during the day is unusual.”

  “I’ll check it out,” Monty said.

  Burke nodded, then turned the paper he’d been studying so Monty could see it. “Your priority is the Courtyard, but keep your eyes open for this indi
vidual while you’re on patrol. Somebody wants this thief caught and the stolen items returned in a hurry, and has the clout to pull strings with the Northeast Region governor. And the governor pulled our mayor’s strings, and you know how it tumbles down from there.”

  Monty stared at the Most Wanted poster and felt the blood drain from his head.

  May all the gods above and below have mercy on us.

  “I’m going to get copies of this made and distributed, and—”

  “You can’t.”

  Burke folded his hands and gave Monty a smile that was full of friendly menace. “You’re telling your captain what he can or can’t do?”

  Monty pointed to the face on the poster, noting the way his hand trembled. He was sure Burke noticed that too. “That’s the new Liaison at the Lakeside Courtyard. I met her the other day.” Being wanted for the theft of something that would have somebody leaning on the governor for its return could explain why Meg Corbyn had been so nervous when he’d met her. She hadn’t been worried about working with the Wolves; she’d been worried about being recognized by him.

  “Are you sure, Lieutenant?” Burke asked quietly.

  Monty nodded. “The hair looks darker here . . .” A bad dye job would explain the weird orange color. “But that’s her.”

  “You’ve met Simon Wolfgard. Do you think he’d hand her over to you?”

  Human law didn’t apply in the Courtyards—or anywhere beyond the land the humans had been allowed to lease from the terra indigene in order to have farms and cities—and it never applied to the Others. But Simon Wolfgard ran a business and had no tolerance for thieves. Would that make a difference?

  “I can stall putting out copies of this poster,” Burke said, “but I’m sure every police station received it and every other captain is going to be handing out copies to his men. So if I’m going to be the only captain defying a direct order from the mayor to apprehend this woman, you’d better give me a reason I can take to His Honor.”

 

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