Broken

by Kelley Armstrong

  I cast an anxious glance around. "I, uh, was hoping we could do this someplace less...public."

  Another tinkling laugh and she leaned forward. "Does anyone in here look like they could summon the energy to eavesdrop, much less the inclination?"

  "Er, no, but--" I tried to look nervous. "I'm really new at this and--"

  "And you want me to follow you outside, where anyone could be waiting for me." Her smile was brittle now. "I don't know who you are or who sent you--"

  "His name's Xavier Reese. He said you don't know him personally but..." I could tell by her expression that Xavier's name, if it meant anything to her, wasn't enough to get her outside. "I also spoke to Aaron Darnell, for his recommendation."

  A spark of interest behind the caution, but still cool. "Did you? And what did he say?"

  "That you were reasonably trustworthy...for a thief."

  Her dark eyes danced as she grinned. "Ah, Aaron. He tries to be understanding, but he can't shake his disapproval."

  She sipped her beer and looked thoughtful, as if even that recommendation wasn't enough. Oh, come on. She was a vampire, impervious to harm. What was she worried about? A very pregnant blond?

  She tapped her fingernails against her beer bottle then, gaze still down, gave a tiny "What the hell" smile, and pushed back her chair.

  "All right," she said. "Let's go outside and you can tell me what all this is about." I stepped out of the bar first. Zoe paused in the doorway, looking, listening, sensing, then followed me out.

  I got two steps into the adjacent alley, turned to ask, "Is this good enough?" and Zoe was already lunging toward me. Her fangs met my fist and she flew into the brick wall with a yelp. She dove for me again. An uppercut to the jaw sent her sailing down the alley.

  Not normally the way I'd treat a potential source, but short of lopping off a body part, I couldn't do any lasting damage to a vampire. And, as with any predator, if you plan to establish dominance, you have to do it fast. So before she recovered from the uppercut, I pounced and knocked her to the ground, then pinned her.

  "Hope you weren't too hungry," I said.

  "Hungry?" She only laughed and stretched out on the ground under me, as if relaxing. "Not at all, but it seemed like the quickest way to get past all that 'I want to talk someplace private' nonsense, and find out what you really want...and what you are." She slid her tongue over her split lip, and the skin mended. "Half-demon, I presume?"

  "Good guess," I said.

  "I don't believe I've ever met one who was quite so...physical. Interesting."

  I glanced over my shoulder for Clay, and saw him waiting at the end of the alley. As I twisted, Zoe moved. When I swung around, I felt a sharp tug on my hair. I grabbed for her hand, only to find my broken hair band in it. My hair slid over my shoulders, and I gave a small snarl as I tried to flip it back out of the way.

  "Sorry, but I just had to do that," Zoe said. "Silver blond. Gorgeous. It's natural, isn't it? Somehow, I doubt that a woman who ties her hair with an elastic band has any use for hair coloring."

  Unbelievable. Pinned to the ground by an unknown assailant...and she wants to share beauty tips. I guess for a vampire, the phrase "mortal danger" just doesn't pack the same punch.

  "I need to talk to you about something you stole a long time ago."

  "Business already?"

  "It's that or toss you around a bit more."

  She paused, as if considering this.

  "Business," I said.

  A soft sigh. "Oh, all right. Something I stole a long time ago, hmmm? I've stolen a lot of things, and most of them a long time ago."

  "I think this object would fall under the heading of unique and memorable. Jack the Ripper's From Hell letter."

  Her expression didn't change.

  "Stolen from the London Metropolitan Police eighty years ago?" I said. "Sold to a local sorcerer's family?"

  "You're local too, aren't you? I can tell by the accent." She laughed. "Or the lack of accent. So why haven't I ever met you before? You certainly haven't been in Miller's. I'd remember."

  "How about the letter? Do you remember that?"

  "Vaguely." She wriggled under me and put a hand under her head, getting comfortable. "I'd rather talk about you."

  I glanced over my shoulder. Clay nodded, and slipped around the corner, guarding the escape route without Zoe knowing he was there yet. He stayed far enough back that she wouldn't sense him.

  I moved off her. She stayed on the ground a moment, then sighed, and almost reluctantly sat up.

  "Now, what did you say your name was?" she said.

  "I didn't."

  "I know, I was just giving you the opportunity to correct the oversight." She smiled, teeth glistening in the dim light. "But if you don't want to, I suppose that will give us something to talk about next time."

  She sprang to her feet and raced down the alley--the other way, toward an eight-foot fence, moving so fast that she was over that fence before I was on my feet.

  Clay raced past me. He reached the fence and jumped, catching the edge, then swung himself up. As he went over, he looked back and saw that I was just nearing the base. He perched on top, waiting.

  "No, go on!" I said. "Chasing and jumping, I can't do. Not like this."

  "Then we'll track her."

  I shook my head even as I grabbed his hands. "Her scent's too faint."

  "Doesn't matter." He locked his fingers around my wrists and hauled me up. "I'm not leaving you alone, remember?"

  He helped me over the fence. We ran to the end of the alley.

  "There," Clay said.

  We spotted Zoe across the road as she darted into a side street. Clay took my arm and we hurried across. After a few more streets and alleys, we reached a stretch of open land leading to the foot of a wooded hill.

  Clay chuckled. "This look familiar, darling?"

  I grinned. "High Park."

  I used to run here when I'd been going to the University of Toronto. A long hike from the campus, but I'd been willing to make the trek--or pay the subway fare--for the chance to jog away from the city streets. When Clay and I had been dating, this had been "our place" more than any other.

  I watched Zoe's white T-shirt disappear into the woods. There was one sure way I could catch her, in a form where my stomach didn't affect my balance.

  I lifted my muzzle and took a deep breath, my legs trembling with excitement. High Park. Even in my later days in Toronto, I'd never run here as a wolf. Too many memories, all of them inextricably woven with the one thing I'd been trying to forget. But now we were here, just like in those early days, before the bite, before everything fell apart. Clay here, with me, and all the pieces mended, the new better than the old.

  I let out a shuddering sigh and closed my eyes. I could feel the weight in my belly, heavy and warm, alive. Alive. In this form, there was no question about that--no fears. Everything was simple--my mate, my pup, both safe, all as it should be, the night and the forest laid out before us, ours to enjoy, explore, possess--

  A questioning whine by my ear. Clay looked at me, his head tilted, "Still here?" in his eyes.

  Oh, right. Before I could enjoy the forest, there was the small matter of a fleeing vampire to contend with.

  It had been nine days since my last run, and I paid the price when I tried picking up Zoe's trail. Every other scent, every sound, every sight, even the feel of muddy ground squelching under my pads, was infinitely more enticing than a vampire's scent. The faint smell of wood-smoke said: go check it out. The patter of rabbit feet: dinner, come and get me. A glimmer of light in the trees: go see what that is. Come here, they whispered, forget the vampire...

  Then I found her trail, and the other voices went silent, drowned under the single overwhelming cry of "prey." An intelligent, humanoid target, not the silly little bunnies I could have anytime. And not only was I allowed to chase her--I had to.

  I ran full speed down the path with Clay at my heels. There was no need to
take cover. There wouldn't be any other predators here, and if we came upon a person, they'd only catch a flash of fur before we dove into the undergrowth.

  Faint though Zoe's scent was, my wolf brain focused on it with a single-mindedness I could never have managed in human form. She was headed for the ravine. Behind me, Clay gave a low growl. I looked up. We'd hit the top of the cliff and there, below, was Zoe's white shirt bobbing along the path. She'd slowed to a brisk walk, certain she'd left the waddling pregnant chick back in the alley.

  I stopped at the top of the path, claws digging into the dirt, feeling the ground below me, soft but dry. Good. Sliding down the incline muzzle-first wasn't quite the entrance I had in mind.

  I glanced at Clay. His mouth hung open, tongue lolling, blue eyes dancing with "go for it." Hindquarters twitching, I tested my grip for takeoff. A flick of my tail and I barreled down the cliff, picking up speed with every stride.

  I was less than ten feet behind Zoe when she finally heard me. She turned. And I got my reward, in that split-second look of "Oh, my God" surprise and, yes, terror. Catch them off guard, and apparently you can even spook a vampire. Nice.

  Zoe did what anyone seeing a 140-pound wolf barreling straight at them would do--tried to run. But before she could move, I sprang and caught her in the shoulder. She went down, managing to roll as she fell.

  I could have snagged her arm. Could have...but chose not to because it had all been too easy. Normally, I don't chase humans. Somewhere along the way, my adrenaline-stoked brain could slide from play mode into hunt, and I couldn't take that chance. But Zoe Takano couldn't be killed, not accidentally and certainly not easily.

  My bite couldn't even turn her into a werewolf--Clay and I had discovered that while helping Aaron catch a rogue. So I could toy with her, safely. Even Jeremy would see the value in it, giving her a taste of my strength as a bargaining tool for negotiations.

  I let Zoe dive out of the way. Then snarling and snapping, I grabbed for her arm, only grazing her bare skin with my fangs, but making a good show of it. A little reminder that she wasn't completely immune to injury--a good snap of powerful jaws around her wrist or forearm and that was it. Vampires could heal, but if they lost something, it didn't grow back.

  When I charged her again, she feinted to the side and then, hallelujah, she started to run.

  Frustration

  I GAVE ZOE A TEN-SECOND HEAD START WHILE I CHECKED for Clay, then tore after her. I was an above-average runner, as wolf and human, and I started to close the gap right away. She zagged off the path into the bush, dodging trees and ducking under branches with a gymnast's grace.

  Clay stayed on the path, out of sight, racing ahead to cut Zoe off if she got away from me. I wove through the forest, getting close enough to be spattered with clods of dirt thrown up by her boots.

  She didn't trip or falter once. In the woods, I fell behind. My belly made sharp turns and twists near-impossible.

  A car horn blared, and my ears shot forward. The rumble of tires, the stench of exhaust, the faint glow of streetlights. Damn! Another hundred feet and we'd be out of the park. I skidded to a halt, threw back my head and howled. Before the last note left my throat, Clay's answering cry came from southwest...and Zoe was heading due south. He'd never cut her off in time.

  I roared back into pursuit, scanning the darkness as I ran. Zoe's T-shirt bobbed to my left, but I already knew she was there. What I wanted was--There, just southeast of us, an open patch.

  I flew forward on a southwest angle, coming up to the right of her. Like anything fleeing a predator, she instinctively turned away from me and headed southeast. When she hit the edge of the clearing, I hunkered down, running as fast as I could, counting off the paces between us and then...airborne.

  I hit Zoe between the shoulder blades. She tripped, and as she fell, she twisted so we ended face-to-face, me atop her.

  Zoe looked up and met my eyes. Hers widened, surprised and...delighted. A throaty laugh.

  "It is you, isn't it?" She stroked the ruff on my neck. I growled, but she only smiled. "That hair is unmistakable. I don't know which is more beautiful--the woman or the wolf." Her eyes glinted. "Equally deadly either way, I'll bet."

  She buried her fingers in my fur. I snapped. She laughed.

  "Tetchy. You prefer the chase to the catch, don't you?" A wicked grin. "We can have another go. You've won this round, so I'll give you your forfeit--tell you what I know about the letter. But if you'd rather play some more before we get down to business, I'm game."

  I lifted my head to look for Clay. Zoe brushed her fingertips along the fur at my throat. I snapped again.

  "Come now, I'm only curious. I've never touched a werewolf. The only two I've met weren't the sort I cared to talk to, much less touch."

  She leaned back for a better look. "A female werewolf. There can't be many of you around. Shame really. Women make the better predators, I've always said. Or certainly the more interesting ones."

  She continued to talk. Being unable to speak gave me a good excuse for not participating in the conversation. Zoe didn't seem to mind, just lay there on her back, pinned by a wolf, chatting as calmly as if we were back in Miller's, having a beer.

  About ten minutes after my takedown, the bushes rustled. Clay stepped through, Changed into human form and dressed in sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. Clothesline pickings.

  "Got you some clothes, darling," he said. "Should fit, but probably not well."

  He laid them just outside a thicket where I could Change. At the sound of his voice, Zoe had started. Then she looked over at him, and her eyes narrowed. Turning back to me, she said, "I think we can keep this between ourselves, don't you?"

  Clay put his foot on Zoe's sternum. I backed off her and loped to the thicket to Change.

  "Thank God," Zoe said when I returned. "He hasn't stopped talking since you left."

  She glared up at Clay, who stood exactly as I'd left him, his mouth shut, as it likely had been the whole time I'd been gone.

  "You can get off me now," she said.

  He lifted his foot and walked over to me, hand brushing mine. "I'll scout, make sure we don't have any unexpected guests. You need me, just shout."

  "I will."

  Clay glanced back at Zoe, then at me. "Have fun, darling."

  "Dah-lin'?" Zoe mimicked as Clay walked away. She shuddered. "Please don't tell me that's daddy wolf."

  "Don't tell her then," Clay said without turning. "None of her business."

  Zoe made a face as she brushed herself off. "Just brimming with southern charm, isn't he? You could do so much better." Her gaze met mine and she stretched again. "No? Why don't we play a little more chase-and-pounce, and see if I can't change your mind?"

  "If we play chase-and-pounce again, you're not going to like how it ends. When a werewolf chases, the wolf expects a kill. One frustrated hunt it can handle. Not two."

  "Unless the prey can't be killed."

  "The predator can sure as hell try."

  She threw back her head and laughed. "Touche. As tempting as a chase would be, it clearly won't arouse the kind of frustration I'd care to relieve. I'll surrender my forfeit, then. Tell me more about this letter, and I'll see what I can remember."

  So I did, leaving out how we got the letter, how we opened the portal, how we were still in possession of the letter, and focusing instead on the results and what little information we'd gleaned about it.

  After I finished, she leaned back and closed her eyes. "The From Hell letter? I know I should remember more but..." She looked at me and shook her head. "Remembering a job I did eighty years ago is no different than asking a hundred-year-old human to remember a work assignment he undertook at twenty. The letter was historically significant, yes, but the circumstances surrounding the theft were obviously mundane enough that I can barely remember anything more than that I did do this job."

  "There was a spell cast on the original location. Do you remember that?"

  She
nodded. "A spell to keep the letter--all the letters--from being stolen by any living being. Presumably someone on the police force was a sorcerer, and cast the spell to protect them. That's why the buyer hired me."

  "This buyer...do you remember who it was?"

  "Of course. He is--or was--a regular customer of mine."

  When she didn't continue, I said, "Can you provide a name?"

  She met my gaze. "I'd rather you did, and I can confirm or deny."

  "And I'd rather you--"

  "His grandson continues to be a customer of mine, and I don't babble about my clients, past or present, unless there is a very good reason. Granted, a zombie-spewing portal is indeed a good reason, but if you took that letter, as you claim, then you already know the grandson's name."

  "Patrick Shanahan."

  She nodded. "The original purchaser was his grandfather, Theodore."

  "Did Shanahan commission the theft himself?"

  "I presume so..."

  "But you don't remember."

  She shook her head.

  "Do you remember whether your client wanted this letter specifically? Or just something from the Ripper files?"

  "I believe any...no, maybe it was..." A sharp shake of her head. "Something snagged there, but it's not coming free."

  When I glanced in Clay's direction, she said, "You don't need to call in the muscle to work me over."

  "That wasn't--"

  "If you want to call your mate over to get his opinion on my sincerity, go ahead, but I have no reason to block you. You've just informed me that my city has an open dimensional portal, leaking zombies. I've lived here all my life and have no intention of leaving, so I'd just as soon see this portal closed."

  "That may be so, but I doubt Toronto is about to be sucked into a dimensional portal, and these zombies aren't after you."

  "That's just because they haven't run across me yet. Zombies don't like vampires very much. Jealousy, I suppose--two kinds of undead, one immune to harm, the other dropping body parts with every sneeze. So I have no incentive to lie about this letter. Let me think about it overnight and I'm sure I'll remember more."

  I didn't bother asking about Shanahan. If she knew where he'd run to, she was more likely to tip him off than tell me where to find him.

  I gave her my cell number.

  "So I leave with a phone number," she said. "Not bad, but it would be nice to have a name attached."