by Mark Henwick
“Good.” Alex snorted. “Ricky’s going to be pissed, though. Brand new Dodge and it’ll need the treatment already.” He turned around to Ursula. “Any more?”
“The guy who gave me this.” She held up a comms set. “Underpass, 64th and Vasquez.”
Clever, to use their comms to track them.
“You heard them setting the trap here?” Alex asked after he’d passed the location to the cleanup crew.
“Uh huh. Came in the other entrance. Seems I wasn’t needed.”
She stood a hand width taller than Alex and just as broad.
I couldn’t see her eyes, but I got the feeling she was watching me, and she didn’t like what she saw.
“Ricky?” she asked Alex.
“On the trail next to the creek.” Alex was already calling him on the cell.
“Silas?”
“We didn’t see him,” I said. “They split all ways from the diner. He must have followed a different group. What about the car auction place? Any Matlal survivors?”
She shook her head and turned her attention to her cell.
Crap. I was as guilty as the rest of them, but I needed a live Matlal Were to talk to. Why hadn’t I thought of that a minute ago? I hadn’t paused; I’d just killed.
We drifted apart, the movement echoing the feeling in my head. For a minute back there, I had felt the pack like a physical force around me, even when Ursula appeared like a horror movie monster from the shadows. The pack exalted in my kills, the elimination of our rivals. It gave me strength and speed, lifted me up and flooded me with confidence. It made me a stomping nemesis to our enemies. I’d felt as if I was shining like the sun.
That feeling was gone.
The night was cold and closed and dark.
Olivia drove up, hunched over with a shoulder pressing her cellphone to her ear. She relayed the status from the cleanup crew. They were working their way here, collecting bodies.
Two of them were ours.
One of Silas’ team had been in place near the diner. Three of the Matlal werewolves had taken the route he was guarding.
One of Ursula’s team had been killed at the car auction house.
Ricky and Silas arrived.
Ricky’s group had split until he was chasing one, but he’d got him.
Silas had chased his quarry down a track that passed under Vasquez. An SUV had been waiting on the other side and they’d disappeared.
Six of them escaped. Seven were dead for two of ours. There were no seriously wounded on either side.
I was frustrated and edgy. The sudden loss of the pack feeling made me angry. Our casualties made me angry. There shouldn’t have been any on our side. We’d gone in unprepared and under-equipped. We needed to be smarter at this.
Yearning for that pack feeling to come back made me even angrier.
Should it be we or they when I thought of the pack?
I tried to talk to Ricky and Silas, but they were distracted by more of the pack arriving.
And I got the sense of being pushed away.
The pack was coming together and it was excluding me. Whatever Alex thought, I wasn’t a member, and neither was Olivia.
When the cleanup crew arrived, Ricky fought his way out of the whirl of the pack. The dead bodies had been taken from his Dodge and he handed the keys back to Olivia.
It was a dismissal. An awkward moment, with both of them wanting to do something or say something that neither of them felt they should start.
I took the opportunity to hug Alex. I could feel his distraction, and a subliminal growl from the pack, so I deliberately held him to make my point. When I looked at him, I waited for the focus to come back into his eyes. The pack wanted him, but they could damn well wait. I still stung from the rejection.
“I felt something back there,” I said. “Something from the pack. Like a huge boost.”
“I know,” he replied. “And they know it too. That’s part of what’s got them so riled.” He kissed my forehead. “We don’t howl to communicate. What you felt was the Call. Any Were can feel it, but to get strength from it like you did means you’re in the pack. It’s what gives us home advantage here.”
“So I’m in, or not?”
“I’d say you’ve proved it.” He glanced back at the gathering swirl of pack members. I felt the pull on him like a physical thing. “Give them a chance to get used to it. Felix won’t hold out if everyone thinks you’re in.”
Maybe.
“I’m in trouble with Felix again. I got involved.”
Alex frowned and shook his head. “The pack approved of you joining in, otherwise you wouldn’t have got the boost from it.”
A thought struck me. “Does the rogue call?”
“No.”
That felt strange. Wrong.
Silas came over. “Guys, Felix is on the move.” He jerked his thumb at the pack. “We have to get these guys away now to meet him.” He turned to Olivia. “Make sure Doc knows that you had bodies in the back of Ricky’s Dodge when you see him.”
Olivia rolled her eyes.
Finally he came to me.
He stood close enough that I was going to get a crick in my freaking neck from looking up. He was all dark but for the gleam of the distant streetlights in his eyes. I eased my weight onto the balls of my feet. If he thought he was going to intimidate me he was going to find out—
“Good hunting,” he said, and turned away.
The pack split up like fat on a hot frying pan. By the time Olivia swung the Dodge around, the cemetery was empty.
Chapter 12
We got back on Vasquez, heading for my car down in SoCo.
“What was that about Doc?” I asked.
“Doc Noble. He can’t manage the physical stuff as well as the others,” she said. “He’s just not big enough. But he knows what he’s doing with forensics, so he’s the natural choice to run the cleanup team. He’ll treat the back of the truck, make sure there’s no evidence.”
It made sense. Noble was half the size of someone like Silas, but, as a doctor, he would be useful on the cleanup team. With my old police hat on, removing evidence made me uneasy, but the pack couldn’t afford to bring attention to themselves.
“I’m normally on the cleanup team too, seeing as I can’t—” She stopped and took a sudden interest in her wing mirror.
“And what happens to the bodies?” I asked, to change the subject.
“Fertilizer. The pack owns a couple of plants for emergencies like this. Bodies go in and come out as pellets. We sell bulk and trade, all over the country. We also have a couple of farms with incinerators.”
Neat. Not perfect, but efficient and good enough for the odd occasion. I wondered what the Altau did, and whether it was time for both Athanate and Were to think more about the advances in forensics.
But that was for another time. Olivia needed distracting. I changed tack and started talking topics I was sure would work. Like Ricky, and what she should be doing about it.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
We turned into the street where I’d left my car. Halfway down, there were sidelights flashing and a horn beeping.
“Someone’s alarm’s gone off,” Olivia said.
“Shit. It’s mine.”
Olivia slowed.
“Keep going,” I said quickly. “Drive past. Go around the block.”
I pulled my HK out and my fingers checked it while my eyes scanned the cars and buildings around us.
We turned and I got a good look down the length of the block. Nothing.
“What’s up?” Olivia asked.
“Maybe nothing.” I huffed. “Maybe some of Matlal’s crew.”
We passed it twice more before I told her to park on the crossroad approach and wait. I pressed the alarm reset and the car didn’t explode as I half-expected.
Holding a flashlight I’d found in Ricky’s toolbox, I walked down the street, listening and looking, taking deep, even breaths through my nose. There was nothing
out of place.
A smell of cooking came from a takeout place around the corner, a hint of someone’s cologne, long passed by. The noise of passing traffic, a distant siren. Buildings and cars dark and still.
I played the flashlight over and under the car. Nothing, except a damaged trunk lid.
Gingerly, I lifted the lid. The trunk was empty.
Oh, crap.
I waved to Olivia and she drove up alongside.
“I’ve been burgled,” I replied to her question. “My spare clothes. And my boots.”
“Not your cowboy boots? The handmade ones? Oh, no! They must cost a fortune.”
“They’re replaceable,” I said shortly, not wanting to explain. The boots had been free, given to me by Werner Schumaker, and I knew he’d make me another pair. My distress was because the boots meant much more to both of us than simply footwear. A year ago I’d rescued his daughter from three rogue Athanate. These were the thanks of his hands when words had failed him. He’d promised that he’d never use the style for anyone else and I’d never be without a pair of the boots. Even though it wasn’t my fault they’d been stolen, I felt somehow as though I’d been careless of his gratitude.
“It’s kinda creepy,” Olivia said.
“Yeah.” It did feel creepy, but it was my problem, not Olivia’s. “It’s not worth worrying about. Go on home, Olivia. See you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She looked a bit uncertain, but she drove off.
I walked up and down the street. A row of cars to choose from and the thief had picked on mine. For clothes? He or she couldn’t have known they were in the trunk. Two of the parked cars had jackets tossed on the back seat. One had a pair of running shoes as well.
I didn’t believe in coincidences.
Back at my car I tried closing my eyes and inhaling next to the open trunk. I ignored the car exhausts and the everyday smells. Dug down. My nose wrinkled and I sneezed.
Chili? WTF?
Maybe the takeout—someone had walked past with something spicy? Why so strong near my trunk? Had they walked past and brushed the car?
Deep underneath that, something else prickled my senses. But all I could think of was an R&R session Keith and I had taken in Hawaii. Not useful.
The lingering sense of intrusion into my private space was unpleasant.
I shook my head and wiped my hands on my jeans. I needed to get back home and shower again.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
The guards were back on the gate and in the grounds at Manassah, but the house was silent.
Not everyone was asleep. Julie had found a cot and taken up a post in the hall, just past the door to Jen’s bedroom.
It was pitch black, but my wolfy eyes caught her subtle movement and my nose told me who it was.
“Evening, Julie. You can put the Sig back down.”
She snorted quietly. “You can really see in the dark?”
“I can,” I whispered back.
I stood awkwardly the foot of her bed. “Sorry, I kinda threw you in the deep end here. How’s it working?”
She shrugged. “Insufficient information on threats and allies, probably outnumbered, short on equipment, lacking precise objectives, unclear chain of command. Feels like home.”
“I can’t tell you how much I missed your sunny optimism and perceptive sitreps.”
We laughed quietly, and a little of the uneasy feeling disappeared.
“How did it go today?”
“Easy. Ms. Kingslund did everything from here, so I was able to talk to Pia and David. Tomorrow, Jen needs to be in the office.”
“You can handle that?”
“As long as I’ve got some backup and we stay at the office. She’s not arguing.”
“Weapons?” I asked.
“Yours are back in your suite. I’ve got a shorty shotgun and this Sig borrowed from Victor.”
“I have some spare guns. I’ve been kinda collecting them from the opposition. I’ll give them to you tomorrow. We’ll sort out paperwork as soon as I can.”
“It’s not all up to you,” she said. “Got to delegate, Sergeant. Anyway, I spoke to Ms. Kingslund and she has an assistant who’s handling my shopping list. I’d prefer clean weapons.”
I smiled in the darkness. I’d wondered how I was going to make illegal weapons with the serial numbers taken off magically legal again. One less job on my list. And she was absolutely right—there were things I needed to let others do.
I yawned and took another sniff. Her scent carried a tingling of unease beneath the humor.
“What’s up? Worried about Keith?”
“Yeah.”
I didn’t think that was all of it. “And?”
She was silent for a few moments. “Heard a lot from Pia. It all makes me nervous. The biting thing. The mind voodoo. The secrecy.”
“I make you nervous, you mean.”
“And David, and Pia. And the thought of what happens afterwards.”
I sighed. “We’ve all ended up in a place with no easy choices. The Athanate, me included, can’t let you walk out with all our secrets.” I felt my Athanate stir. “But you have my word, there’d be no damage. On the other hand, if you stay, you may find you start to like the idea of being bitten.”
She huffed. “Awesome pep talk. Thanks for that.”
“Yeah, I’m fresh out of pep.” I stood. “There are worse things than being bitten by Panethus Athanate. Sleep well.”
“Yeah. Night.”
Jen’s door on the left. Mine on the right.
I felt the stir of wolf and Athanate again, not so far beneath the surface. I didn’t feel in control. I knew at some point soon I’d have to accept my Athanate’s need to bite. I’d need Blood. But I’d promised Diana I would wait until she could guide me through and test the effect my bite would have. And after this evening, the wolf seemed too close to the trigger.
I’d hired Julie to protect Jen. I didn’t want to be briefing her that I was a threat.
And I needed a long, hot shower.
I took the safe option and went into my room.
Chapter 13
TUESDAY
About quarter to seven the next morning, I parked on Grant Street and walked to the Schumachers’ shop, wearing my stockman’s coat with the collar up and the Stetson planted on my head.
Werner let me in.
“Look! Look at my American daughter, pretending to be a spy.” He laughed and grabbed me in a hug. The Stetson fell off and I had to laugh too. Werner was like that.
Hat retrieved, I was bustled into the kitchen. Klara made the best coffee in town. Of course, not what I had come for. Not even for the pancakes and maple syrup that appeared in front of me.
In truth, I wasn’t looking forward to this visit.
Klara and Werner immediately understood when I told them, but a few minutes later, when Emily came rushing in to hug me, my heart crashed.
She knew at once that something was wrong.
“Amber?” Her eyes were already misted.
We sat back down and I gathered her hands between mine.
“Em, I have a problem.” Klara refilled my cup and stood behind Emily, resting a hand on her shoulder.
“I can’t say too much, but there’s something going on,” I said, “and it’s going to cause a lot of trouble for me. I don’t want you to get caught up in it. I’m going to have to stay away for a while.”
Emily looked shocked.
“Did you do something wrong? Is that why you’re in trouble?”
“No. I do what I think is right. It’s just—”
“It’s not fair!” she shouted. Tears beaded in her eyes. “You do the right thing. You always do the right thing, Amber. How come you’re always in trouble?”
“No, it’s not fair. You’re right. But no one ever said life was fair, Em. It should be, but it isn’t. That’s no excuse for me to behave differently.”
I tried to pull her back into a hug, but she tore away from Klara and me, tea
rs spilling down her cheeks, and ran back up the stairs.
I was half out of my chair to follow, but Werner touched my arm and shook his head.
“She is very upset,” he said. “But it is better to leave her now. I will drive her to school later.”
“It shows how much she cares,” Klara said. “The tears will dry and that will not change. Come, sit a while.”
I sighed and bent my head. They were right, but it still made me feel awful. “I have to go. I have a meeting.”
“Yes, yes.” Werner waved a hand. “But it will do them good to wait for you sometimes.”
I snorted.
“And there’s another thing,” I muttered. “Your boots. They were stolen from my car.”
“Your boots,” Werner said, and shrugged. “They will not suit another, and I bet,” he leaned back and chuckled, “I bet she will not dare to wear them in Denver.”
“He or she had better not,” I said.
“I have another pair made up ready. I must just stitch. A day or two.”
“Thank you.”
He patted my shoulder and shrugged again as he got to his feet and made his way into the front of the shop.
“He never forgets,” Klara said quietly. “We never forget.”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
I finished my coffee quickly and left; I had a date with the Denver PD Major Crimes division at their office on Cherokee Street. José Morales was a busy man, and it wouldn’t be good to be late. Still, I walked. I preferred the fifteen-minute walk to spending ten minutes parking after a five minute drive.
But I never made it.
Chapter 14
I picked up a tail a block shy of the Denver PD building.
He—or actually, she—I amended as I crossed the street and watched behind me in the mirrored windows, wasn’t a pro. Or this was a double bluff to get me looking the wrong way.
It’d warmed up and I was well away from the Schumachers’, so I was carrying the coat. I still had the Stetson and sunglasses, so whoever she was, she was good enough to have spotted me even with those on.
Nagas? A takedown right in front of the PD?