But what is it? Nate took a deep breath, turning back to the apartment. He didn’t know what was giving him the nagging feeling of something missing…but if it was in the apartment, he was going to find it.
“CONGRATULATIONS. YOU HAVE succeeded in tidying the apartment, only for the next lot of hunters to come along and thoroughly mess it up.” Vazul had taken an aspirin and gone to lie down in the master bedroom. He’d emerged, with the twilight shadows, to sneer as Nate finished sweeping up the dirt tracked in by the hunter’s boots.
“I had to do something.” Nate hunched his shoulders miserably. Cleaning the apartment hadn’t helped. It had only made him more aware of how out of his depth he was. He didn’t know what he was doing there or what he hoped to achieve. He only knew that Grant needed his help, and Nate had promised to aid him.
“We’ve both been busy.” Charlotte knelt by the doorway. “Aki and George’s diversion bought us time. I’ve been able to redo the wards on the front door.” She paused, resting her hand on the doorway. “Whoever did the runes before me did an excellent job. Their markings were so clear, I only had to trace them. And the salt—” She frowned. “It must have been done today. But I don’t remember—”
“Remember?” Nate held his breath.
“I must have helped. I remember looking for candles for—but who was it?”
Nate swallowed back a rush of eagerness. “Someone you know was here, but you can’t put a name or a face to them?”
Charlotte stared at him. Her eyes were alarmed. “You, too? I don’t like this—”
Outside the open door, the elevator bells chimed. Charlotte hastily stood, while Vazul and Nate straightened, bracing themselves to meet this new challenge.
“Well, now.” The voice was male and brisk, with an unmistakable note of authority. “You’d be Charlotte Everett? Superintendent Jacobs, New Camden police.” Jacobs was accompanied by a clatter of feet indicating backup.
Charlotte swallowed. “I am.”
“Meaning that Vazul Lascar shouldn’t be too far away.”
Vazul saw Nate step toward the door and shook his head. He pointed to the kitchen. “You’re still an unknown,” he whispered. “Stay out of sight.” He drew himself up and marched himself over to the doorway. “Here I am. And I demand to know the meaning of this intrusion.”
Nate leaned against the kitchen door. His fists clenched. Again, I’m just standing by while other people put themselves in trouble. It’s not right! For a moment, he had a startled moment of clarity. This is what Grant’s been feeling this entire time.
“I’ve got a warrant for both of your arrests.” Jacobs sounded perfectly polite, but there was a hint of steel in his voice. He would play nice only as long as they did.
“On what charges, may I ask?” Vazul’s sneer made Nate wince. He longed to go out there and attempt to defuse the situation.
“The illicit use of magic in order to obstruct the location of a known fugitive—”
Vazul scoffed. “What proof do you have?”
“An associate of yours, an Akihiro Fujino, is already in police custody.” Jacobs sounded grim. “We know all about the collar—and that Fujino did not have the magical skills to produce it unaided. You’re coming with us—”
“Slow down,” a familiar voice drawled. “Give them the chance to turn themselves in.”
Gunn! Nate felt a sense of relief.
“What makes you think we want to turn ourselves in?” Vazul did not share Nate’s elation at seeing the Department Seven officer. “For that matter, what are you doing here? I thought you were disbanded.”
“I may be freelance now, but I still take an interest in these things.” Gunn sounded less bothered by the dissolution of everything he’d worked to achieve than Nate had imagined possible. “And I’m interested in seeing that you two get your rights. You go with Jacobs here willingly, and he can’t charge you with resisting arrest, assaulting officers, or any of those things that make such an unpleasant impression on judges.”
Gunn might sound calm, but Jacobs had the tone of someone who’d had more than they could stand of Gunn’s company. “Your opinion was not asked for or wanted. Now, Everett, Lascar, you have the right—”
“We surrender. Or whatever it is you want us to do,” Charlotte said.
Vazul gave an impatient bark. “I wish to lodge a formal complaint at the brevity of the investigations, but fine. I will also submit to this indignity.”
The snap of the handcuffs locking shut echoed through the empty apartment. Nate hoped that it wasn’t audible in Grant’s room. He could only imagine what the man felt about now.
“I will be availing myself of legal counsel at the first opportunity,” Vazul continued. “And if there is even the slightest irregularity in your treatment of me—”
“Get them downtown,” Jacobs ordered. “At once.”
The scent of tobacco wafted through the air. “You’re overdoing it. Those two kids are licensed magical practitioners, and there are doubts about the validity of the alarm put out on the werewolf.”
“Fuck off, Gunn. We no longer have to listen to you.”
“But you can’t ignore what I’m saying. After all, you know I’m right—and do you really want to piss off the Magic-Users Guild? Imagine the outcry. Two promising young magic-users singled out for discrimination enforced by New Camden’s own police department—”
“Shut it, Gunn. Or we’ll shut your mouth for you.” There was a creak of floorboards as the officer approached the front door.
“You don’t have a search warrant,” Gunn said immediately.
“Got to check that the apartment is secure. Can’t just leave it here to be burgled.”
My cue. Nate stepped out of the kitchen. “Thanks, but we’ve got that covered.”
Jacobs looked up in evident surprise. “Who are you?”
Gunn grinned. “Don’t worry. Nate is known to the department. He’s got a good reason for being in this apartment.”
“Such as?”
Gunn paused. “He’s…a friend of the owner.”
Friend of the owner? Nate frowned. That was only half the story.
“We’re going to need more than that.” Jacobs studied Nate closely. He was a short man with an alert look, younger than Nate had guessed from his voice and manner. “Is the owner here?”
Nate shook his head. “No. But—”
Jacobs snorted. “Then I think the circumstances warrant a search.” He stepped toward the door, only to be met by an invisible barrier. “What the hell?”
“Huh.” Gunn made his way to the door. He placed his hand on the invisible barrier. “Protective wards.”
“That witch.” Jacobs snarled, speaking into his radio. “Get Everett back up here.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Gunn said. “She can’t undo these from the outside.”
“But aren’t they her work?”
“She was working on an overlay. Right, Nate?”
Unsure what was going on, Nate nodded. “Right. She said that she traced over runes that had been left here before.”
“Give us the full story.” Jacobs barked.
“I’m not a magic-user,” Nate warned. “But midafternoon, soon after the hunters turned up, the building shuddered. Charlotte said that the wards had failed. After—” Nate hesitated, casting a look at the officer. “After Aki left, Charlotte repaired the wards.”
“These are tied, not to the caster, but the presence of the apartment’s owner,” Gunn said. “Interesting. I think it’s worth looking up who that owner might be.”
Jacobs, who already had his phone out, gave the former Department Seven officer a glare and walked toward the elevator. He made the call and stood, watching Nate and Gunn as he waited for the results.
Nate glanced at Gunn. He looked just as he always did. “I’m sorry about Department Seven.”
Gunn snorted. “You’d be one of the few.”
“Then phone them at their place of resi
dence!” Jacobs ended the call.
“Trouble?” Gunn asked.
Jacobs marched over to them. “If you’re involved in this, Gunn—”
“It’s not my fault if the mayor’s curfew meant that you can’t get hold of a representative to tell you who owns this apartment.” Gunn grinned. “But I’ll tell you one thing. In magical spells, possession is not nine-tenths of the law. For those runes to be active, Nate’s either got the right to be in the apartment, or the actual owner is still on the premises and—by implication—approves of Nate’s presence.”
“And if you’re worried about burglars, then the runes are going to keep them out.” Nate wasn’t clear about what was going on, but he understood that much.
Jacobs narrowed his eyes at Gunn. “I know you. I know you’re up to something.”
“Maybe I’m no longer an officer of the law,” Gunn said. “But I know more about supernatural law than you do. You don’t believe me, you can look it up.” He dug into the pocket of his gunner jacket, digging out an immensely filthy wallet. “Here.” He extracted a muddied business card. “Magic-Users Guild. Ask about the laws governing defense runes when you find out what constitutes a breach of the magic-users license.”
Jacobs snarled, refusing the card. “I don’t need to double-check. Wisner made it perfectly clear—”
“Is Wisner’s word your only reference? ’Cause he doesn’t exactly have an unbiased interest in this whole debacle.” Gunn raised his cigarette to his lips. “Look it up, unless you want to see your department go the way of mine.”
Jacobs frowned. He snatched the card and marched for the elevator. “Stay here,” he barked to the two officers remaining with him. “Anyone enters or leaves this apartment, I want to know about it.”
Gunn’s smile was supremely satisfied. He turned to look at Nate. “Going to invite me in?”
Had Gunn’s eyes always been so dark? Nate realized he was staring. “Uh. Sure. Come on in.”
Gunn slammed the door on the watching officers. “Desperation tactics. Wisner’s running out of time. Trying to isolate the pup, make him as exposed as possible for whatever he’s still got up his sleeve.”
“And you’re here to help?” Nate rummaged in the kitchen for a saucer and set it down in front of Gunn. “Here.”
Gunn ignored the impromptu ash tray, flicking ash over the floor. “Expected you to be causing mischief out in the city somewhere. Didn’t expect you’d have the common sense to stick around and keep your head down.”
Nate squirmed. He felt like he didn’t deserve the compliment—if compliment was what it was. “Gunn. Do you know who this apartment belongs to?”
Gunn gave him a flat look. “Why the hell are you asking me?”
Nate shrugged. “It just seems…weird. Here I am in this place, and I know it—it seems familiar. But I can’t remember why I know it. Like that picture.” He pointed to the screen print of the pier hung above the dining table. “I know I’ve seen it before. I know where it came from. But the context—the who—is missing.”
Gunn sauntered over to inspect the painting. “Sloppy,” he said. “And they call this art? I could do a better job.”
Nate frowned. “I’m serious, Gunn.”
Gunn glanced at him. “You want to worry about something, worry about that.” He pointed to the window. The sun was sinking below the horizon. “Only a few hours now before the moon rises and your friend’s battle really begins.” Gunn straightened up, losing his habitual slouch. “He’s here, of course?”
“In the safe room.”
“Good. We’ll leave him there. Show me what we’ve got to work with by way of defenses.”
As Nate showed Gunn around the apartment, detailing the events of the afternoon, a suspicion began to grow—a suspicion that was confirmed as Gunn took a pistol from a holster. He leaned against the wall beside the window that George had occupied as a vantage point, checking that the pistol was loaded.
“You’re here to defend Grant.”
Gunn snorted. “I’m not here for the pleasure of your company. I don’t do socializing, Nate.”
“No—” Nate hesitated. It was just one more strange thing in an afternoon of surprises. “What is it about Grant that he’s got you, me, Aki of all people, ready to defend him? You put your department on the line, Aki could have been seriously hurt—” Nate came to an abrupt halt. “He’s not—”
“Fujino’s fine.” Gunn snorted contemptuously. “Led the hunters on a merry chase and then surrendered willingly to police. There was almost a brawl over who was going to claim the bounty on him. I tell you, there are some very unhappy hunters in New Camden tonight.”
“But he’s safe?”
“Yeah. Behind bars is probably the best place to be with Wisner on the prowl.” Gunn looked over the streets, his posture suggesting that he was preparing himself for a long vigil. “Your pup better appreciate everything we’re doing.”
And that was it, wasn’t it? It all came back to Wisner’s word against Grant’s. Nate caught his breath. “Hey, Gunn? How do you tell if a wolf is a leader?”
“An alpha you mean?” Gunn shot Nate a quick, appreciative glance. “You know, I think you’re on to something. It would explain a lot. He say anything to you?”
Nate shook his head. “It’s a feeling I’ve got. There’s got to be a reason why we’re so ready to help, even ignoring how terrible Wisner is.”
“Alpha wolves are known to inspire intense loyalty in their pack of followers,” Gunn allowed. “But that only applies to werewolves. This kid—it wouldn’t surprise me if he was something special.”
THEY KNEW THE exact moment the full moon rose. An anguished wail from the locked safe room made Nate jump to his feet, catching his arm on the desk he was sitting on.
Gunn simply went still, turning his attention to the bookcase behind which the door was still concealed. “Don’t even think about it, Nate. You can’t do anything to help and remaining in there is the safest place for him.”
Nate had taken the step toward the room without thinking. “Are you sure? He sounds so—” He flinched. The wail was repeated, this time with a sound that sounded far too much like snapping bone.
“I know so.” Gunn’s voice remained hard, even as the wail turned into an abrupt whimper. “It hurts a wolf to transform at any time, but the full moon is always worse because it’s against their will. The only thing we can do is let Grant get on with it. At least, that’s what Kenzies says.”
Nate took a deep breath, pulling himself back up onto the desk. Kenzies was nothing if not a trustworthy source on werewolves. “Where is she tonight?”
“Where do you think? Holed up with the rest of her pack in their version of this safe room.”
“She’s not—inside Wisner’s compound?”
Gunn shook his head. “Nah. Give her more credit than that, Nate. Her pack is different. All she-wolves, and they’ve banded together to protect their independence. They’ve got a warehouse downtown somewhere that they’ve kitted out for situations like this.”
Nate breathed out. He was pretty sure that Kenzies had a plan to resist Wisner’s attempts to bring all the werewolves in New Camden under his jurisdiction, but having that confirmed felt good. Another cracking sound, and a howl that sounded definitely inhuman put an end to his confidence. “You’re sure—”
“Trust me. We have to wait.”
It was one of the worst experiences of Nate’s life to date—including his own death. The change seemed to go on for hours of agonizing waiting. Nate was convinced that each whimper he heard would be the last sound Grant made. Even worse was when the whimper changed to growls and finally a full-fledged howl.
“Told you.” Gunn had lit a fresh cigarette. “Now all we got to worry about is him getting out of there.”
The sound of a full-sized werewolf body hitting the wall indicated that this was no idle remark. Crash after crash indicated that Grant had no intention of remaining locked in the room.
<
br /> “He’s going to hurt himself if he keeps this up.” Nate’s fingers clenched the edge of the desk he sat on. “We have to do something.”
“Only thing we can do is wait it out,” Gunn said. “For crying out loud, Nate. I shouldn’t have to keep repeating myself.”
“I know. But—” Nate bit his lip. Was this why he’d had to promise? Whoever had chosen him to remain knew how hard it would be to stand by while Grant fought to free himself from his prison.
“We’ve got two missions tonight. Stopping him from getting out and attacking anyone, and making sure that Wisner doesn’t get to him.”
“But with the full moon, Wisner’s out of time.” Nate looked through the study to where Gunn leaned against the living room window. “He’s not allowed to leave his safe room. No wolf is.”
Gunn looked up then back at the street.
Nate felt cold. “You think he’s going to come here?”
“He’s got no other option. Not if he wants to ensure Grant’s challenge fails—and he has tried everything else. My gut says that he wont’ give up now. And my gut’s never wrong.”
Nate cast a look toward the bookcase, shuddering with the force of Grant’s latest attack. This—this is only the start.
It was about two hours later that Gunn’s instincts were proven correct. A high-pitched wail split the night air.
Nate groggily sat up. Grant had ceased his fight to free himself, and Nate had fallen into a doze. “A siren? What’s happened?”
Gunn cast him a contemptuous look. “Listen carefully, Nate.”
Frowning, Nate walked across the study to join Gunn at the window. The siren wail repeated itself, and as it did, Nate realized that it was made up, not of one source, but of many. The noise rose and fell like a wave, leaving him cold. “Wolves.”
“Tens, possibly hundreds of them,” Gunn reported. “Wisner’s pulling out all the stops. Here they come.”
It was an impressive sight. Shadows flickered across the street, the wolves appearing out of the spaces between buildings, before finally massing in the street in front of the apartment building. Their eyes glowed as they looked up. Nate flinched. “Can they see us?”
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