by Cathy Clamp
He frowned and reached out to touch her hand. “Show me. Think of it.”
She shook her head. “Like you, I do not wish to wallow in pain again.” He seemed sad and … like he wanted to share his own memories but wanted to spare her the horror. Then she remembered when Rachel had mentally shared her struggle to get out of her own cave, far away in a place called Texas. The memory had been like being there, the sights, the sounds, the smells. Unlike Anica’s damp cave behind a waterfall, Rachel’s cave had been in a desert, surrounded by sand and cactus and birds instead of bears to slash open her skin. But the fear and pain had been the same. And having the owl shifter share a similar past had been … rejuvenating. So she nodded, wrapped her fingers around his, and let him into her memories. Perhaps her showing would give him the courage to unburden himself of some of his pain.
She closed her eyes and thought back to the day when she’d been coming home from school, carrying a brand-new textbook about geography, and been snatched off her feet, pulled into a covered truck, and hit over the head. She remembered so clearly the last thing she saw before she blacked out was the new textbook, lying in the mud, and it had made her angry.
She woke in chains, surrounded by screams and the smell of death, and the anger gave way to fear. But the anger never truly went away.
Ris’s hand tightened on hers as she remembered the days and weeks filled with cuts and scratches and skin rubbed raw from struggling against chains, of trying to stay quiet and small so she wouldn’t be noticed. His tight grip kept her grounded as she recalled the taste of moldy bread and stale river water that gave her stomachaches, and hearing the never-ending screams that turned to roars. They still haunted her dreams. But worst was never, never getting the smell of blood and sweat and bear shit out of her nose. “Maybe that was why I was cursed with such a sensitive nose as a bear—because I hated smelling so much.” She sighed, opening her eyes to see her own pain reflected in his black eyes, like a dark mirror. “I decided that day that nobody else should have to suffer through that. That is why when Rachel helped me remember the place I had to go back and clean out the nest. But is it terrible of me that I didn’t want to stay and help the children put their lives back together? I want to fight the bad snakes and bears, make them feel pain and free the captors, but the nightmares, the memories … I don’t think I can make them go away. That’s their own battle, like it has been mine.”
She was surprised to see a small smile come to his face. But it was sad, haunted. “You remind me of my sister, Umi. Everyone said she was too tiny to have such a great fire in her chest, with a heart too big for the defenseless. But she was a warrior unmatched in skill and she fought with such ferocity, and viciousness, that even the rumor she was in a battle would send enemies running.” He opened his mind to her and she saw Umi, seeming so small and childlike, her long black hair tied in a braid that touched the backs of her knees as she lifted a sword as tall as she to lay waste to a half-dozen men a meter or more taller than she. Ris smiled broader, a light chuckle moving his chest. “She would constantly argue with my brother, Mako, who was our healer, because she would strike to maim or kill, rather than wound. He would ask her to be more gentle, to try to salvage their lives. She would say, ‘Why in the world would I want to leave an enemy with the ability to fight again, Mako? Everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by friends … because there are no enemies left.’”
In Ris’s mind, she saw Umi’s smile and Mako’s frown, and it made her sad she would never meet them. “It is very sad you have no femily left. They seem to have been good people.”
He shrugged. “Fighters always risk the next fight. Healers give away their strength to keep the fighters going. But the stronger you are, the stronger the opponents sent against you. Eventually, you’ll fall. It’s one of the reasons I hunt, instead of fight. My venom is fatal, no matter where I bite them, or when. I’m fine with sneaking up when they’re sleeping. In fact, I prefer it. It’s why I’m still alive and my siblings aren’t.”
“So you do not fight fair?” That seemed just … wrong. “It makes you no better than the bad men.”
His reply was unapologetic, his humor gone like a flash. “I’m sent against the worst of the worst, Anica—those who have slaughtered countless lives, who have killed and raped and tortured for their own pleasure. The Council doesn’t lay down a death sentence lightly. Only Sargon himself received a sentence … none of his followers did. Including those who held you. Even after what you saw in my memory, Lagash doesn’t have a formal sentence. Do you truly believe those who have been judged as so evil as deserving to die also deserve fairness?”
She had to think about that. The snakes and bears they had fought in the cave where she was held prisoner had died by her own hand, and by the hands of the others with her. Yet they had not been convicted, or sentenced. She had also snuck up on them, let Ahmad use her in a ruse to get inside to further sneak up. Why had they not been tried, when they were known torturers and kidnappers? “There should be more death sentences.”
The moment she said it, she knew the comment made no sense based on her own words earlier. But it did make him laugh again and he pulled her into a sudden hug. “I don’t think we disagree on that. It’s why Ahmad sent me to investigate. This is a hunting mission only, to find out what Lagash is up to, so he can go to the Council for a verdict. And if you can petition the Council for even more verdicts, I’ll be happy to carry them out. I’ve been a little bored lately.”
He kissed the top of her head, nuzzling his nose in her hair. She was hoping he would keep nuzzling, but lower, but something pulled his attention away. His body tensed and she turned as he pushed her away to ease away from under the covers. She looked where he was staring, out the window, to where two women were walking in the empty town. Two?
Anica likewise slid off the bed, careful to make no sound, and joined Ris at the window. One of the women was Skew and she was in chains … her wrists and ankles burdened by iron braces. But who was the other? Then the woman’s head turned and Anica caught sight of her face. “I have seen her before,” she whispered. “But I do not know her name. She cooks meals for the prisoners. When Denis was in jail, I visited him and she brought supper.”
“Is she married?” Ris’s voice was deep, deeply angry at the same sight of the falcon who had saved him stumbling in the ash while the other woman prodded her to stand.
Anica nodded. “To the postmaster.” And then she remembered him, always at the edge of everything. Protesting their being in town at the first meeting with the negotiator, jeering from the edge of the crowd during the Ascension challenge, refusing to leave the post office to fight the fires with the others. In fact, there wasn’t a time of day she hadn’t seen him there. She’d even wondered why a post office would be open at night when she had seen lights on after eating in the diner. “We need to go to post office. I remember once I asked Paula why he worked such strange hours for a government place, she had said, ‘Fred does what Fred does. It’s best not to ask too many questions about him.’”
Anica was chilled at Ris’s next statement: “Maybe Paula broke her own rule.” He motioned her backward and pulled her into his arms. “Don’t move.” He began to slide his bare chest against her back. His skin was slick with something that wasn’t sweat. It flowed over her like lotion, to be sucked into her pores. He even ran his hands over her face and chest. But when she touched her skin, it was dry. Not even damp.
“What did you do to me?”
He grinned at her and leaned over her shoulder to give the tip of her nose a quick kiss. “Made you invisible. Get dressed while I go do the same to the others.”
Wait. He was going to rub his naked body over Bobby? She had no idea what the other man’s reaction would be to that. Ris gave her butt a light swat that made her jump. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I’ll put it on a towel for them.”
“What is it?”
“My people secrete an oil in their skin that can make scents
disappear. Bobby created a cologne from it for Wolven agents to use. It’s why we’re such effective hunters. And we have some hunting to do, so get dressed, little warrior. Time to fight the bad snakes and free the captives.”
The way he said that, with equal amounts of bravado and confidence, made her feel … odd. He wasn’t apologizing for what he was about to do, or trying to convince her to stay down, as before. She went to the dresser and opened it before remembering all of her clothes were downstairs in the dryer. Going out the door and across the hall, she started pulling some of Rachel’s clothes out of her dresser. She could ask forgiveness later. As she hurriedly put on the clothing, she thought back to Ris’s words.
Something had changed.
She found him in the bathroom, where he was rubbing himself down as though drying himself after a shower. But he looked like Tristan again. He was wearing the illusion like a shirt over his true self. One only she, and perhaps Bobby and Ahmad, had ever seen underneath. “I am to fight as well? That is okay?”
His shoulder moved in what might be a shrug. Or not. “Pretty sure I couldn’t stop you, could I?”
She didn’t respond, but he was probably right. She liked Skew and didn’t want her to be hurt. He walked past her, causing a few small sparks that snapped against her skin like after scuffing across a carpeting. He opened the closet door and smelled surprised and happy as he whispered, “Hey, men’s clothes. I can actually wear something clean.”
“Those must be Dalvin’s. He’s been staying here.”
He put on a pair of too-tall pants and a long-sleeved shirt before digging around in the dressers. Not finding what he wanted, he rushed to the kitchen with preternatural speed. He pulled several of the knives out of the wooden block on the counter, feeling the balance and slashing the air.
But instead of putting them in the pockets on the pant legs as she expected, he handed one to her, hilt first. “Put this somewhere it won’t cut you. If you have to attack, don’t stab. Make long cuts that will open wider as it tries to slither.”
She didn’t have a chance to respond before he rolled up the pant legs so he wouldn’t trip and raced out into the hallway. “Don’t forget the key.”
Oh! Yes, the door key. She had to return to the bathroom and dug through her pant pockets before retrieving the key and putting it in her pocket. She didn’t know what to do with the knife. There weren’t any pockets that if she had to bend over she wouldn’t cut herself. She finally went to Rachel’s closet and pulled out a pair of hiking boots. They were a little big, but a second pair of socks fixed that.
She heard Ris’s voice just as she was tucking the knife in the laces, with the edge underneath the metal lace guides so it wouldn’t cut the laces as she walked. The tip was pointing at the floor. She hoped she wouldn’t trip. “Anica, hurry. We need to get on their trail.”
In the dim hallway, lit only by the emergency exit lights by the stairs, she found Bojan and Scott coming out of Scott’s apartment. The owl shifter looked tired but was moving without a limp and was rolling his shoulder, almost experimentally. Judging by his scent, he was surprised he wasn’t more injured. “You are well?” She was concerned about him. She liked Scott quite a bit and hoped he might someday become part of her family.
He nodded, glancing at Bojan, his scent a combination of guilt and anger, with a splash of warm cookie spice that was likely the aftermath of the fulfilled desire that lingered on his skin … and Bojan’s. “I honestly have no idea what I am right now.”
Ris tossed the oiled towel at him, hitting him in the face on the way past and down the hallway. “Mated, by the smell. Rub this all over yourself, so it’s not so obvious.”
The tall blond’s face went white as a sheet, then beet red. He gratefully turned away and rubbed his face and arms with the towel, handing it to Bojan when he was done.
Anica touched her brother’s arm. He looked a little lost but was trying to be strong. So much like Papa. “No shame, Brother. Remember?”
He nodded, but she could still smell his negative emotions. They vanished in an instant when he rubbed his skin with the towel. She leaned close to him to sniff, but all the scent was gone. “That is very good oil. How long does it last?”
Bobby came bounding up the stairs and down the hallway. “At least until morning, in its pure concentrate.” He grabbed the towel and proceeded to rub it over his own face and arms, his scents disappearing like magic. But she supposed it was magic. “Sorry. I lost them in the smoke. It’s like they just dis-a-damn-ppeared. No tracks, no scent.”
“We’re going to have to be careful leaving the building,” he continued. “You can see the front of this building from almost anywhere. Even the smoke won’t help. Lagash is powerful enough to see right through that.”
Scott held up his hand. “If you’re right, and it’s Fred and Betty Birch—which I’m still trying to wrap my head around—then there’s nowhere in town we can sneak up on him. He’s the postmaster. He’s been in every house, walked every path, knows … everything. About everyone. He’s the keeper of the mail. We have no decent Internet, so the mail is our connection to the world. I’ve always known he’s opened our mail. It’s hard to hide an envelope being resealed. If the mail is delayed, is it just crappy service, or is he hiding it from us? We’ve never known.” He let out a snort. “I’ve always just considered him quirky. That stupid old hat, the cherry tobacco smell that wrecks your nose—”
Wait! That was it! “I am allergic to tobacco!” It all made sense now.
The men just shrugged. “Okay,” Bobby said. “Is that important?”
She smiled. “Yes. It is very important. That is what I smell in boot step in the forest … from person who was following Ris. It caused my chest to choke. Papa had a friend who smoked a pipe. He had to stop coming to house because I could not breathe. But he never smoked cherry tobacco. Just regular.”
“And the cherry scent isn’t actually cherry, but a combination of chemicals you don’t know the names for.” She could tell Bobby understood.
“So I know now, for sure, it was Lagash, who is wearing a Fred shirt.”
Ris smirked and had to hide it behind his hand. The others looked confused. Then Ris cleared his throat. “I think we need to split up. We need two good noses. Anica and I will go to the post office. I doubt they took Carolyn—Skew there. It’s too obvious. But maybe we can find out what they’re up to. The three of you can track her and the woman … Betty, did you say?” Scott nodded. Ris put his hand on Anica’s arm and a wave of warmth swept through her that wasn’t desire but could go there without much effort.
“That still leaves the problem of getting out of the building without being seen by him or his spies,” Bobby said. “And if there’s a rattlesnake in town, he has spies.”
“We could go out tunnel. Maybe he would not watch there.”
Bobby and Ris asked, nearly simultaneously, “What tunnel?”
Scott frowned, saying, just like Rachel had earlier, “How do you know about that?”
“I find it,” Anica said. “In basement. Why is it secret?”
The owl shifter said nothing, just blinked. Ris asked the obvious question: “Are there more tunnels around town? Should we be looking underground for whatever is going on?”
Still the owl said nothing. Looking concerned, Bojan touched Scott on the arm, then looked at Bobby. “His mind, it is as if something is blocking it—something thick and sticky, like tar.”
“He was well until I mention tunnel,” Anica said ruefully. “Rachel does same thing when I ask earlier. I think maybe we go into tunnel ourselves and not ask anymore?”
Ris nodded. “Zarko told me that the original buildings in town were intended to be forts, to hold off snake attacks. All decent forts, throughout history, have had a way to escape if the walls are breached. Maybe what you found it an escape tunnel.
“Bobby and I will check it out first in animal form. Make sure there are no booby traps or cave-ins.” The two me
n nodded and they started down the stairway.
“Perhaps you should stay behind with Scott. I don’t know how he would react if he sees us enter the tunnel. You might try to do something comforting with him,” she added. “Maybe cooking. Scott is sensitive to smells. Not as much as me, but he likes to sniff herbs.”
Bojan nodded. “True. I burned some incense while he was sleeping. It gives me a headache, but he likes the smell.” He turned to his friend, who Anica supposed now needed to be considered his boyfriend or partner—or maybe just mate—and clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s go cook some dinner, Scott.”
The taller man didn’t respond, just kept blinking. Worried, Anica took his other arm and helped Bojan turn him around and get him back into his apartment. She’d never been in Scott’s apartment before. It was nice, better decorated than Rachel’s, with black metal and glass furniture and paintings of different birds in flight. Everything was as coordinated as though a decorator had planned the room. Small splashes of deep burgundy in the black and white pillows matched bits of the background in the paintings, and geometric-patterned throw rugs covered the same older carpeting that was in Rachel’s home.
Anica could smell the incense Bojan had mentioned. It had a nice, soothing scent, but the longer she smelled it, the more her nose sorted the smells. Some of the odors were herbs that Bojan used in food, like lemongrass, nutmeg, and cinnamon. There was a citrus smell, like orange peel. But down at the very bottom was a scent she’d smelled very recently. It made her immediately pull Scott and Bojan out of the room.
“Anica! What are you doing?” Her brother’s voice was too loud—she put a finger to her lips as she took the key to Rachel’s apartment out of her pocket. “Stay very quiet and take Scott to Rachel’s. I think there is something wrong with that incense. It has much terbium in it, and I do not know why.”
“What is terbium?”
She didn’t have time to explain it. She had to get Bobby. “Please. Just do as I ask. Let me get Bobby and he can explain it better.”