Jed thanked the checkout girl and loaded the bags of food into the cart. “Tell him we’ll give him a call later when we know what time we’re heading out.”
I grimaced at the weighty silence from the other end of the phone and wondered if Jed had done that on purpose.
When Mason finally spoke, his voice was a dull monotone. “He’s still with you?”
“It isn’t what it looks like, Mason. Trust me.” It could have been if Jed hadn’t turned out to be an assassin out to kill all of my furry relatives, but no it wasn’t what it looked like at all.
“I thought he just caught a ride with you to the park. Is he staying at the cabin?” He didn't sound very happy at the prospect.
“In a sleeping bag on my front porch. And technically it was the morning, not night.”
An evil chuckle came from the phone. “The temperature was pretty frigid this morning. It took me over an hour to defrost from the hunt. I hope he had an arctic sleeping bag.” So Mason was okay with the porch. Good. I still had one candidate left. Then I remembered Dunwood. Two out of three ain’t bad. As long as the third didn't turn out to be the walker.
As Jed drove us from the store to the cabin, I told him about the twins. It may have been selfish of me, but I knew that Jed would want to pay them a visit right then, and I also knew that he wouldn't want the bacon to spoil. Once at the cabin, I refused to budge without a few hours of sleep. He wasn't happy about it, but in the end, he had to admit we should probably be at the top of our game if we ended up dealing with a pair of skinwalkers.
He grabbed his sleeping bag and started out to the porch. It had warmed up some but was still awfully chilly. Besides, there were killers out there, and I didn’t want to give them a sleeping target. Even if it was Jed. Besides, I’d be the one to get the blame if something happened to him.
“You can sleep in here. I’m not going to get undressed or anything. A nap is a nap even in jeans and sweatshirt.” I glanced over at the fireplace, but with everything going on, I hadn’t had the time to stock up on firewood. Reluctantly, I turned up the thermostat for the electric baseboard heat, knowing that I’d pay the price for the extra heat next month when my bill came.
I threw him a blanket and motioned for him to take the couch at the end of my bed, then collapsed and didn’t move for a blessed four hours. I heard the doggie door a couple of times and wondered briefly if I would still be around when the pups came.
A few minutes before five, Jed’s phone rang. The Twilight Zone theme song. I wondered if that was his choice or the trickster’s. As he didn’t seem startled by it, probably his. Stretching, I was in the process of waking up all my various body parts when I saw Jed’s mouth tighten. Not good news, then.
A wolf’s hearing is no better than a human’s, unfortunately, so I couldn’t make out who had called or any of the conversation. Beyond saying hello, Jed hadn’t said a word before he disconnected the call. Then he turned his angry face to me.
“Just how well do you know this Roy character? I still haven’t figured out how he disappeared from the motel that night. Is that some kind of were trick we don’t know about?”
I debated what to tell him. If he was having this much trouble accepting the separation between the good walkers and the skinwalkers, how would he handle a third entity thrown into the mix? In the end, I decided how he handled it was his problem, and settled on the truth.
“You know him as well as I do. And he isn’t a were. He’s the Coyote. The Trickster. A godling.”
Of all the possible reactions I had imagined—laughter, anger, indignation—complete acceptance wasn’t one of them. Jed simply thought for a minute and nodded, sitting on the couch to pull on his boots.
“That’s it? No questions, no laughter, no nothing?”
“My people know of the trickster and his games. My mother met him once and described him to me years ago. A description alone can match many people, and I did not place who he was until you told me.” He motioned to my boots. “Saddle up, partner. The wolf-not-wolf is back on the prowl.”
There was no command center set up today and the entry booth was unmanned as we drove between the “Do not enter” and “Park Closed” signs. According to our less than reliable witness, the creature was stalking a group of hunters near the small wolf cave area. Hopefully, we would reach them before the killer culled one out. Heaven help the man who wanted some privacy for a restroom break.
By now, Jed knew the park almost as well as I did and drove us up to the campground area to put us as close as possible to the group. If it hadn’t been hunters, we could have let the dogs loose and stood a better chance of ending this. Unfortunately, if the hunters saw the dogs without us, they would shoot first and ask questions later. Paranoia ruled the park these days.
We had called Dunwood to try to get communication to the hunters, but this was an unsanctioned hunt. Vigilantes. Which also meant they were as likely to shoot at us as our dogs out of the sheer thrill of the chase.
Keeping the dogs at our heels, we ran. We were still a quarter of a mile away when we heard the screaming start, followed closely by gunfire. It is possible to run while holding your breath. Not easy, but possible. Jed swung his rifle, loaded with bullets this time, around to the front as he ran. I wished I’d brought my gun, but I did have the hunting knife I wore in the woods, which I drew and held loosely as I ran. If the thing—or things—came toward us, it would be in for a hell of a surprise.
It wasn’t long, though, before we realized we weren’t getting much closer to the shooting. They were on the trail headed the other way. We came across the victim, still screaming. He heard us and whipped around as best he could on the one leg he had left and leveled his gun in our direction, pulling the trigger as he went.
There are laws against having automatic military weapons, but this man obviously didn’t obey them. A stream of bullets tore through the trees and would have cut me in two if Jed hadn’t sideways tackled me and taken me to the ground. The dogs, running on sheer animal instinct, went belly to the ground and rolled to the nearest big tree for shelter from the bullets, Jed and I close behind them.
“Stop shooting, man, we’re here to help you!” Jed shouted. Finally, the bullets stopped flying and we heard a thud as the man fell over, his energy drained.
Jed led the way to him in a crouch, afraid of more bullets either from him or his friends. Who knows what weaponry they had.
The man was in bad shape, unconscious before we crossed the few yards left to him. His left leg was gone and he had already lost so much blood that I really didn’t think he had much hope of making it. Some friends to take off and leave him like this. Which is just what I planned to do before Jed pulled me to the ground.
He was pulling off his belt. “We have to get a tourniquet on that leg to stop the bleeding. Call 911 and get a rescue squad on the way.”
I sat there torn in two directions. I’d feel guilty if I just left them, but we might never have a better chance at catching the killer than this.
Finally, I growled and flipped my phone open. As soon as I had called it in, I took off running before Jed could stop me. It was dirty, I know. But necessary. I heard him cursing and yelling at me as I ran.
Maggie had stayed with Jed, and I was glad. I felt bad leaving him in case the skin walker doubled back. With Maggie there, he would be given early warning. However, the creature managed the disappearing scent act, while in fur form, he definitely smelt. And unless all skinwalkers smelled exactly the same, there was only one on the hunt today. I followed the wolf-not-wolf scent at a dead run with Rebel dogging my heels.
The sound of gunfire was getting closer. Some sounded like ordinary rifles, but I could hear the rat-a-tat of at least one more automatic rifle. We had passed the cave area and were quickly approaching the playground area. Damn. There was a large parking lot there. If the creature reached his vehicle, we’d lose him for sure. I’m fast, but not that fast.
I came up on the hunters
and had to dive for cover, knocking Reb to the side, too, as they turned their weapons on us. “Friends. Stop firing!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Whether they heard me or not over their firing I couldn’t tell.
Eventually, they stopped firing. One of them yelled out, “State your name and business.”
“Tazlyn Hunt and Rebel, here with Special Agent Jedadiah Crowe on a legal hunt for a killer wolf.” I could have added that they weren’t supposed to be there, but I figured I’d just stick with the basics since they were armed and all I had was my trusty knife. Wicked yes, but still just a knife.
“Show yourself.”
I told Reb to stay and slowly stepped out from behind my tree, hands in plain sight.
“Thought you said you were with Crowe.” It was James Riley, one the banes of my existence. His eyes looked wild. I took a quick glance around. Three men besides Riley, only one with an automatic weapon. All of them looked panicked.
“Jed stopped to try to save your friend. Me and Rebel need to keep going after that wolf before we lose the scent. I need your promise not to fire on us.” I didn’t trust Riley any further than I could throw him. He’d made his feelings for Reb and me plain enough.
My frustration was growing as the seconds ticked by and the wolf-not-wolf got farther away. Without the bullets flying, the woods took on an eerie kind of silence as the men debated on letting me pass. Through the trees, I heard the engine of a car start up and knew it was already too late. He was gone.
Then my focus shifted back to the men in front of me. Mentally, I pricked my ears to hear what they were saying. It's harder to do in skin form. I could only catch a word here and there, and I was beginning to regret leaving Jed.
Especially since one of the words I caught was a terrified “werewolf”.
Chapter 25
Finally, the men agreed to let me and Rebel lead the way. They were probably figuring if the creature attacked, they could escape while it ate me and Reb.
Uncomfortable with all that good ole boy firepower behind us, we followed the scent to the playground and beyond to the parking lot. There I got somewhat lucky. The hunters had parked here as well, and in his haste to reach his vehicle, the skinwalker had brushed up against the bumper of one of their pickup trucks, leaving behind a few hairs.
I was careful with them, getting one of the plastic bags from my pack that I keep for Rebel's indiscretions and carefully collecting the hair without touching it. Now I had a centering object. Maybe we wouldn't be dependent on Trickster's warnings now. If I tried to Find the creature every so often, whenever it left its personal black hole, I would have the location. Exactly what good that would do us, I wasn't sure. But it was better than what I had before.
We heard sirens coming closer and the rescue squad pulled into the lot. We led them back to the hunter, who was barely hanging on.
Jed looked to me and I shook my head. He still looked angry. The team got the man as stabilized as they could and loaded him onto a gurney. As the terrain was too rough to roll it, the men took turns carrying it to the ambulance that was now waiting.
As they loaded him into the back, Sheriff Dunwood's Explorer came tearing in and squealed to a stop. He jumped out and looked to me and Jed.
"I'm sorry, Sheriff," Jed said. "If I hadn't had to stop to help Cyrus, maybe I could have ended this."
I glared at the hunters who were trying to hide their illegal weapons from the Sheriff. Like I was going to let that happen. "If it hadn't been for the glorious wolf stalkers here, I'd have had him. They shot at me twice and then delayed us until the—wolf—got away."
Before Dunwood could get a word in, James Riley stepped up. "It twarn't no wolf, Sheriff. I'd swear it. Th-that thing twarn't any natural creature. If'n I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes, I'da never believed it myself, but what killed our friend was a werewolf, sure as shooting."
A weak voice from inside the ambulance called out, "I ain't dead." Rather than looking relieved, Riley looked decidedly uneasy. Dunwood had better keep a watch on Cyrus at the hospital. Old movie lore is hard to refute.
Dunwood stepped closer to Riley and sniffed. "How many beers you have before coming out here, James?"
"Now, Sheriff, I ain't drunk. A couple is all, and 'sides, we all seen it. Didn't we?" He glanced at the others for support, but the others saw the look Dunwood was giving them and stayed silent. But I could see the fear in their eyes. They had seen it too.
"Seems you're the only one seen a werewolf today, Riley," Dunwood said. "And unless you're going to tell me Ms. Hunt here is the werewolf, I'd like to know why you shot at her. Twice."
"To be fair, they only shot at me once. The first time was their friend Cyrus there." I motioned to the ambulance as it peeled out of the lot, racing to the waiting blood transfusion. I didn't meet Jed's eyes. He knew what I was. But then, he also knew I wasn't the killer.
"So if you aren't intoxicated, looks like we got an attempted murder on our hands. Either way, you boys are coming with me to do some explaining. Starting with where you got those weapons."
Since he couldn't fit all four in his car, he had to call for a deputy. We waited with him. Jed, because he felt it was his duty. Me, because I wanted to hear what the men might let slip. But after Dunwood's announcement, the group was quiet, thinking about their fate. And maybe about the creature from another world.
While we waited, I tried to Find the walker. I figured the best I could do would be to Find the wolf skin he used to change. But it had already been slipped into its scent free container. I mused on how one would accomplish this. Stores carried plastic bags that you filled and then used a vacuum to suck the air out. That might work.
Or maybe if you encased the skin in something with another, stronger scent. Another possibility. Or maybe the killer could mask the scent of the skin when they weren't wearing it. Or mask the scent of its container. A Luparii.
I jumped when Jed laid his hand on my shoulder, signaling it was time to head out. The deputy had come and they'd loaded up the men while I'd been in my own little world.
Dunwood came over to us before he left. "Turner says they think the wolf was wounded. Says that there at the end, it was kind of running with a limp. Maybe they got lucky with one of those bullets they had flying around." He looked over at me. "I'm sorry this happened, Taz. You could have been killed. I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave this hunt to us."
"To you and the other men of Spencer, I take it."
He grimaced but nodded. "I know it sounds chauvinistic, but dang it Taz, I don't want to come out here and find you in the back of an ambulance or worse." He smiled sadly. "I still have hopes of us finally getting that dinner in some time."
I smiled at him. "I promise to do my best to stay alive, Sheriff. And I expect the same from you. I can't back off now, Dunwood. Reb has the scent, and with the possible exception of Jed there, I'm the leading wolf expert in the area." I laid my hand on his arm. "Besides, I'll be much safer anyway if you can contain those four for a few days."
His smile turned grim. "That you can count on." He looked over to Jed. "Crowe, you better be keeping her safe, you hear?"
"I'll do my best, Sheriff."
Dunwood nodded and got in his car. The two vehicles left the lot and I turned to Jed.
"I think we need to take another trip to Gosport and lay all of our cards on the table. Have a regular pow-wow."
He just looked at me.
"Sorry, I couldn't resist, Chief." I thought back to the possibly wounded skinwalker. "I didn't see any blood from the walker—or smell any either. Did you see any sign that it was wounded?"
Jed shook his head and started back toward the campground and the car. Oh boy, he was giving me the silent treatment. Fine, two could play that game. I patted the pouch of my pack that held the skinwalker hairs and smiled.
SINCE JED HAD CONTROL of my keys and my Jeep, I took the opportunity to call Mason on the way to the Gosport round table—well ours was actually square, but
the principle still held. At least someone would talk to me. He answered on the first ring.
"Hey, Babe." He sounded tired. "I was just getting ready to call you. I'm being called back to DC for a couple of days. Something broke on one of my cases and they need me there. I really hate leaving you. Especially with that killer out there. Not to mention the wolf."
"It's okay, Mason. I've got Sheriff Dunwood, Rebel, and Jed to keep me safe. I'll be okay."
"Since you brought him up...just how well do you know this Jed, anyway? I've started a background check on him, but it'll be a few days before I get a dossier on him. It worries me with him showing up right before you got that package."
I smiled. It was nice having someone care. "He holds a pretty important position, being a special agent and all, so he should be safe. I really don't think he's a killer." Liar, liar, pants on fire.
"Just be safe, okay?" He hesitated for a minute. "Look, why don't you come out to DC with me? You could stay at my apartment. I'll even spring for the airfare. Then when I get things tied up, we can both come back and track down this lunatic."
It was tempting. I'd be safe, but I'd be leaving Benandanti behind. Besides, I don't think the offer included Rebel. I couldn't leave my pack.
"I really appreciate the offer, Mason. But I'm needed here. That wolf statue has to be finished soon, and you know how the Sheriff depends on Reb's nose." Even if he did personally ask us to bow out.
"Well, don't say I didn't try to protect you. Take care, Taz. I'll see you as soon as I can."
I hung up and waited for Jed to comment on my call. He didn't. What was worse is that I really didn't understand why he was so mad. I hadn't run off just for the hell of it. If it hadn't been for those stupid good ole boys this might all be over now. And I hadn't doubled back to the Jeep and left him either, and I could have. It wasn't like I would have been a big help with Cyrus. My first aid skills are pretty much limited to applying band-aids and plucking out splinters.
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