by Cathy Clamp
Anica touched the doorway, getting accustomed to the smell of death. “I will try.” She looked at Rachel as she climbed the stairs to the porch. “You will help me not roll? I will stop your arms flap too.”
“Sorority sisters, girl. You know it.” She smiled, but it was shaky.
Bobby raised that one brow again. “You were in school together?”
Rachel shook her head and laughed as she pushed away from the post. “Just an inside joke. Anica and I, and another girl in town, Claire, were all prisoners in the caves. Claire and I were together in Texas.” She shrugged. “Sorority sisters.”
Bobby’s face darkened. “Sargon was a sick bastard. Taking little kids, doing that to them…” He couldn’t finish, but Anica could smell his outrage without even looking at his clenched fists and face twisted in anger. He was truly offended at what had happened to them, and suddenly he didn’t seem as much like a snake. Like Ahmad. Even though Ahmad was Sargon’s son, he was filled with hate for his father. She had seen that hate in his eyes when they had met here in Luna Lake, and again back in Serbia when he had helped rescue other captive bears imprisoned by his father.
“Okay,” Bobby said after a few moments, “let’s start to process the scene like investigators until your friend comes back with more suitable clothing. We start by looking at the outside of the house. Was there forced entry? Anica, you mentioned it smelled like the woman—Paula, did you say?—was taken by surprise. Can we prove or disprove that by looking with our eyes and smelling more carefully?”
They started walking around the building with Bobby, his tongue flicking almost constantly now, and he began to point out small clues that Anica hadn’t noticed before because of the overwhelming blood smell. The branches of one bush were ripped and blood spattered across the remaining bark. Bobby explained that the man may have used the leaves to wipe the blood from his hands. But where did the leaves go?
He stood back, pulled a small tube of wax from his pocket, and rolled it around his lips, encouraging her to match the two scents, the pungent blood and smoky leaves, and find them again, and she did! The bloody leaves were buried under a mass of pine needles a dozen meters away. “So, he wasn’t so panicked at the death, at what he’d done, that he couldn’t take the time to try to hide his tracks,” Bobby explained. “Pine is a great hiding place in most cases. It’s why humans use it as cleanser and for animal bedding and cat litter. It hides scents. But if we focus our noses, we can sort through and find his trail.”
“So, we go chase him now? Make him pay for her death?” Anica felt almost excited at the prospect, even though the man obviously was willing to kill.
Bobby let out a little chuckle at her excitement. “No. That comes later. There are times when a Wolven agent has to punish. We have that authority—sort of like a spy having a license to kill from his government. But it’s not our primary role. We are investigators first. We gather evidence sufficient to take it to our version of court … the Wolven chief or the Council, for them to act. The Council members are the real authorities. An order of death is a serious thing. We don’t take it lightly, and there is a process.”
Anica turned her head as an engine sound approached down the worn path through the trees. Dalvin was alone in the ATV and had a bundle of clothing on the seat next to him. “Sorry it took so long,” he said as he parked and turned off the engine. Anica was a little surprised at the comment, because she had been so busy she hadn’t noticed much time passing. But when she looked up, the sun had definitely moved. The house was throwing shadows deep into the trees. Dalvin’s movements were hurried, rushed. “Another load of firefighters arrived. The fire turned again. It may be headed this way. Word out of Republic is they’ve raised the warning to voluntary evacuation of the county.”
Bobby let out an annoyed sound. “Then we have two jobs. First, investigate. Second, clean up. We can’t have the human authorities discover this. There are too many fire volunteers here who might be police in their day jobs. We can’t allow them to take samples of our blood. That’s the second primary role of Wolven, ladies. Keep the secret. It might be considered the first role.”
Dalvin nodded as he handed a long-sleeved gray sweatshirt and pants to Rachel. “I do consider it the first role. Investigation comes out of someone having broken the secret, like this death. Someone has lost control of themselves to leave the body of a Sazi for anyone to find. That has to be punished … it’s actually a larger crime than the murder itself.”
“At least equal to it,” Bobby agreed. “Sometimes the animal half does get the better of us and the death is accidental. But leaving the body and not informing Wolven or the local Alpha raises the level. Now, sometimes they don’t remember doing it and just wander off. That can happen with lesser Sazi.”
Anica felt a low growl rise from her chest, which made the others look at her in surprise. “I am sorry, but I dislike this word very much. I hear often, and it offends. Lesser Sazi. I am not powerful, it is true. I am a little bear with little magic. But I am not lesser. People say it and wave their hand as though I am not worthy of existing.” She shook her head and slapped a paw against the pine boards underfoot, struggling not to dig her claws in and give her frustration a vent.
Rachel looked down at her and nodded, a similar metallic scent of disapproval joining in the air with her own as she pulled the sweatshirt down over her springy dark hair. “Yeah, that pisses me off too. It was bad enough when I was little and I just had to worry about the color of my skin being accepted. But now it’s my animal, or my level of magic. It never fucking ends. It’s like alphic is the gold standard and the rest of us are broken somehow.”
Dalvin raised his hands, his scent apologetic, but he didn’t really know what to say.
Bobby crossed his arms over his chest, the tan cloth stretching tight over large muscled arms. “Historically, that’s sort of true. Long ago, all Sazi were alphic. We couldn’t have survived, as a species, without the ability to change at will or, more important, to change back to human form. But like all species, the more you breed outside the pure line, including attack victims, the more watered down the magic. I’m not saying it’s right to use the term. I’m just saying that it’s where the term comes from.”
Rachel had sat down on the first porch step, pressing against Anica’s side so she could pull the elastic of the pant legs over her shoes. “Well,” she said, “you know what happens to pure lines in animals? Inbreeding. Bad hips, health problems, temper control issues. Paula was alphic, and she was a bitch. Sargon was an alpha, along with all of his followers, and they were homicidal meglomaniacs. Our former town leaders were alphas, and were insane meglomaniacs. So maybe it’s one of you gold-standard alphas who went nuts this time too.”
Dalvin gave an annoyed hoot, his hands on jean-clad hips. “Chelle, don’t go off on an us-versus-them theme. People are people. Some are racist and classist bastards, but most of us aren’t.”
“—Intentionally,” was her only response.
They glared at each other for a few seconds, and Anica wasn’t sure what to say. Bobby finally intervened. “I have to admit, it is usually the alphas that go off the reservation and commit crimes. A lot of alphas truly believe they’re better. Alphas better than non-alphas, Sazis better than humans. It’s where the plague came from … the cure that made Luna Lake come about. The human family members rose up and reminded us that we aren’t better. Out of frustration for being slighted, ignored, and abused, they turned into terrorists and killed thousands of our kind. But Sargon killed hundreds of humans in his quest to make Sazi the dominant species on earth. Maybe thousands. We don’t truly know how many he killed. So, who’s better? More special?” He kicked the edge of the step for emphasis. “None of us. We all have the capacity to be monumental asses. Assholery and violence seem to be the two things we all truly have in common.”
Anica had no response to that, and it didn’t appear that Rachel or Dalvin did either. The pause grew uncomfortable quickly,
but what made her look up was the sudden influx of fresh smoke. “We should go inside now?” Talking about something that couldn’t be fixed would not find who killed Paula, and the fire was definitely moving toward them. “We have little time, yes? The smoke, it is new … not old trees from far away.”
Bobby licked his lips, his tongue flicking out like a snake, but she wasn’t thinking of him that way anymore. “Yeah, we need to get to it.” He turned and stepped through the doorway, crooking his finger for them to follow.
“I may keep my eyes open? No blindfold?” She didn’t want to disobey Papa, but she wanted to see the crime scene. She wanted to learn this so badly. It was something she could do better than others. Like Bojan could cook, and Samit could work with engines.
Bobby shook his head. “I doubt you’re skilled at lying … Your father would know and I’ll bet money he’ll ask.” But then his eyes began to twinkle. “Something just occurred to me, though. I really don’t have a blindfold handy that would fit a bear face. Even money it’ll slip up to your ears if you trip.”
Her smile likely looked like she was angry, but the oranges’ scent would give her away. “I will try very hard to not be clumsy enough for that to happen.”
Rachel grabbed the blue and white bandana Bobby tossed over Anica’s head. “I’ll let you do the honors,” Bobby said. “After all, you’re her guard.”
Anica tried to stand very still while she tied the bandana around her eyes. “Boy, you aren’t kidding. It doesn’t fit her face.” She tried to tie it around her head, around her snout, and even around her ears, without success. “How about I just do this?” She placed the cloth loosely over Anica’s head and tucked it around her ears. It was fairly thin cloth. Even in the shadow, she could faintly see. Not clear detail, but enough to walk.
“My eyes, they are covered. It is what Papa wanted.”
“Works for me,” Bobby said with a serious expression that didn’t match his scent. “Long as your nose isn’t covered. Let’s go. Let the scents tell the story. Smell every surface you can.”
Rachel stood by her side until they reached the doorway; then she let Anica go ahead. The kerchief blurred her vision as she walked into the house. She could see light through the windows and spots of light on the floor but most of the furnishings and colors were muted or tinged with blue. Rachel’s voice was quiet and low when she spoke, as though she didn’t want to disturb the dead. “Ick. I’m glad you can’t see this, Anica. There’s blood everywhere.”
Bobby’s voice came from deeper in the house in response. “Ignore the blood, Anica, unless it’s not the deceased’s. Find what eyes don’t see. Focus on what the smells tell you.”
But she wanted to see. At least where she was going. When Anica looked down, she could at least see where she was walking. The floors were wood but were covered with scatter rugs. The one under her paws now was very like the ones that she and Mama used to make … braided from strips of old clothing, softened from years of wear and washing. She leaned down and sniffed. She could smell Paula mostly, the scent of a thousand meals served covering the soles of her shoes. The famous-singer perfume soaked deep into the cloth along a route that stepped over a very particular path. As she snuffled along the curved edge of the braided cotton, other images came to her mind. A spilled cola and drips of coffee dotted here and there, heavy with chemicals that tried to pretend they were hazelnut. Then, other footprints that were heavier, pressing dirt into the fibers. “This is not Paula. It is the man.”
Bobby walked into the room. She could see the tips and feet of boots made from a lizard, which seemed odd for a snake to be wearing. “Point with your claw to where you smelled the man.” She did and he put a bright yellow round sticker on the floor next to the spot. “Okay, move on. Don’t get buried in the scents this first time. We don’t have much time.”
Rachel smelled frustrated. The burnt-metal scent blended with the metallic blood so it almost seemed like Paula was still alive. “Shouldn’t we be taking evidence with us? Fingerprints or trace evidence? Putting it in envelopes, like cops do? And what about gloves?”
Anica had wondered the same thing but didn’t want to seem naive. Dalvin let out a small chuckle as he moved around the living room. “You watch too many crime shows, Chelle. The evidence we gather is in our heads. The sights, the smells, the taste. When we go before the Council, the seers dig through our heads, pull out the whole experience, and dump it straight into their heads. It’s as though they were here with us. A strand of hair can’t do that, or a fingerprint. We investigate at a different level than humans.”
Part of Anica was intrigued, but part was horrified. “The Council has witches who can see my thoughts?”
Bobby patted her cloth-covered head. “Don’t call them witches to their faces, or even think it too loud. A few of them, like my friend Tony, might find it funny. At least one I know wouldn’t. She’s a little sensitive about her gift.”
Rachel shifted her feet so she was facing Bobby. “You said your friend was an attack victim, like us. How did that happen? Don’t only the top alphas become seers?”
Now he laughed out loud. “All of the rules of the Sazi that everyone talks about? Tony eats them for breakfast. He doesn’t conform to any of the rules. The ones he doesn’t break outright he bends to fit his mood. If you’re good enough at what you do, you can make your own rules.”
His words struck Anica in the chest like a hammer. She reached up with her paw and pulled the cloth from her head. “This is what I wish to do. Make my own rules. So I must become very good. I cannot become good with blind.”
“You go, girl.” Rachel was smiling down at her, the same scent spilling from her as she had smelled earlier.
She flared her nostrils, trying to catch the smell, to remember it. “The smell, just now. Is emotion? What is it?”
Bobby seemed preoccupied, putting stickers on various surfaces, from the wall to the edge of a bookcase and the shade of a lamp, but he responded. “Pride. Sort of like cloves, but sweeter. Rachel is proud of you. Not the emotion I’d recommend, by the way.”
“Yes. Like palačinke. I smell earlier, but did not know name.” She had smelled it from Tristan, but she couldn’t remember what she had said at that moment for him to react with pride.
Rachel approached him, touched his arm to get him to look at her. “Why wouldn’t I be proud of her for wanting to get better?”
Not just his eyes met hers. Anica felt some of his magic leave her to surround Rachel, freezing her in place. He leaned in very closely, until their noses were almost touching. “Because you weren’t proud of her for wanting to be good. You were proud of her for wanting to disobey her father and break the rules. Let me be very clear, Ms. Washington. My friend, who broke the rules? He had the ever-loving shit kicked out of him multiple times. Once was on my recommendation. He nearly died several times. I won’t hesitate to do the same to you or Ms. Petrovic if you step on the wrong toes or break the wrong rule.”
Dalvin sighed and moved closer. “Bobby, please. Rachel doesn’t condone breaking the law. She’s just trying to get her feet under her after a lifetime of hell.”
Bobby lifted his chin until he was looking up at Dalvin. Rachel still seemed frozen, her mouth slightly open. Even a tiny spot of spittle shimmered, held in place at the edge of her lip. “I’m well aware of her past. I read the files of everyone in town on the way here. I also know several Council members have taken a personal interest in her. What I don’t know is why.”
Anica felt a tightening of his power around her, pressing against her fur until it was tight and uncomfortable. “Don’t follow her example. Learn well; be strong. But don’t break rules. You’re not predator enough to pull it off.”
He released his magic abruptly, standing up as he did so. Anica could feel the sensation like a slingshot against her skin. Rachel fell forward hard, but Dalvin reached out and caught her before she hit the floor. “Asshole,” she muttered under her breath as she shook off the se
nsation. If Bobby heard it, walking down the hall, he made no comment.
What he said instead was directed to her. “Anica, get back to smelling, please. Adway, come help me with the victim.” Dalvin took a deep breath, let it out slow, and moved away from Rachel to join Bobby in a room Anica couldn’t see.
Rachel frowned. “I’m sorry, Anica, but I’m out of here. I thought he was cool, but apparently, he’s just another jerk.”
“Rachel—” Anica reached out, touched her leg with one paw. She wanted to say so much, but her friend had such anger, deep down. “You are like me. You wish to fight for all … those who cannot fight for themselves. You wish to lash out to those who hurt you. I wished that too. But Mama told me once that first step to fight whole world is to forgive. I asked her why forgive horrible people? She said there is often truth and pain inside horrible people and to forgive is to set the pain free so there can be trust. You must let go of anger. Learn to forgive.”
Rachel snorted, her arms crossed over her chest defiantly. “Trust and forgiveness won’t change evil. Only force will.”
Anica nodded her head. “No, you cannot change evil. You can only contain it or destroy it. But whole world is not evil. Only little part. Trust and forgive are for those who can change. Those who are willing to live with rules for all.” She pointed to the next room with her paw, her claws pulled inward carefully. “Snake policeman is not wrong. He wishes all to follow rules, which is what I wish and you wish too. Yes? No more hateful people, who steal children or force bad things on others. No people who kill people.”
Rachel moved her head from side to side, lowering her arms and tucking her hands inside the pockets of the sweatshirt. “Yeah, I guess. But I really hate when people hold me with magic. It pisses me off. Makes me feel—”
“Powerless?” Anica finished. “Yes. I feel same. But in times we can control us, we control. You see? They cannot take what we control.” She looked around the room. “And what we control today is search for killer. We look; we listen; we smell. You will help?”