by Anne Bishop
“The station’s chief isn’t going to promote me over men who have been working here longer,” Monty protested.
“This isn’t about seniority, Monty. It’s about survival.”
A crack of thunder made them jump.
Burke held out his hand. “Good luck, Lieutenant.”
Monty took Burke’s hand and held on tight for a moment. “Good luck, sir.”
He stood in the doorway and watched Burke lumber across the paved area and disappear around the corner to the employee parking lot, where he must have left his car. Then Monty forced the door closed and leaned against it. If he dashed over to the efficiency apartments to look in on Lizzy, would he stir up the children when his mother would have them settled?
He heard footsteps and voices and the rustle of raingear.
The Gresh family smiled at him. “We’re on the Meat-n-Greens team,” Mrs. Gresh said.
“Better hurry.” Monty held the door for them and noticed Kowalski hurrying to catch up.
“Any orders, Lieutenant?” Kowalski asked.
“Stay in touch and keep everyone inside. Wait for the all clear before you go out.”
“Yes, sir. You’ll be staying here?”
“Yes.” Having contact with Simon and Vlad was prudent. And if Lizzy did need him, he’d have a better chance of reaching the apartments from the back door of A Little Bite than from the Market Square.
“Michael is staying here. So is Pete Denby.”
“We’re covered. Now, get going.”
Kowalski ran.
Bloody and terrible, Burke had said. He would pray none of the men he knew would face the bloody and terrible—but he didn’t think that particular prayer would be answered today.
• • •
Tess watched the black sedan drive out of the Courtyard and waited a minute before she unlocked the front door of the Liaison’s Office and stepped outside, pulling up the tight-fitting hood that hid her face and all but two coils of black hair.
“Not a day to be outside,” Nyx said.
Tess turned to her left but kept her eyes directed at the pavement. The human mask was now a transparent veneer that muted the effect of looking at her. Oh, her preys’ organs would blacken and their brains would bleed, but not as fast as when she revealed her true form with no veil to soften it. Too sick to cause trouble, the prey would flee and die elsewhere—which suited her just fine since she would have supped on the best of the life energy.
“Are you out here for a reason?” Nyx persisted.
“To make sure nothing comes here to cause harm,” Tess replied, watching the people hurrying toward the Stag and Hare. It was as good a place as any to wait out this storm since it had plentiful food and drink, but she didn’t think the clientele were the kind of humans who held a neighborly opinion of the Courtyard or its residents.
“You’re talking about humans?”
“They’re included.” She felt Nyx move closer.
“Even your form of terra indigene couldn’t take on one of them.”
“Harvesting that much life, I wouldn’t need to feed for a year,” Tess said dreamily. How long had it been since she’d felt fully sated?
“Not feed for a year?” Nyx sounded disgusted. “What if you got a sour one and then had to wait so long to be hungry again?”
The thought made Tess laugh, and red threads appeared in the black hair. “You should get inside.”
“I’m safe enough from Namid’s teeth and claws. Smoke would just catch in their throats and make them cough. Didn’t you know?” A light touch on Tess’s back as Nyx said more seriously, “Today you aren’t going to hunt humans alone. I’ll keep watch from the back door of the efficiency apartments. That way I can also check the stairs that open on Crowfield Avenue.”
As Nyx flowed along the access way, Tess heard her tell someone to hurry. Looking toward the consulate, she spotted Elliot Wolfgard and looked away quickly when she realized there was a human with him.
“No,” Elliot snapped. “Don’t look. Just get inside.”
A gust of wind tugged at the hood, almost revealing her face.
Tess went inside the Liaison’s Office and turned the simple lock to keep the door securely closed.
There were plenty of HFL supporters in the city. Once they had drunk enough courage, a few of them would come here looking for trouble, so she would make herself easy to find.
• • •
Alone in HGR’s office, Simon looked at his mobile phone and almost played the message that he had saved just to hear Meg’s voice. Instead he called the Pony Barn.
“Pony Barn. Meg speaking.”
Hearing her voice delighted him, relieved some unhappiness he hadn’t known he’d felt until it faded. That’s why he growled, “I am going to bite you so hard.”
“No, you’re not.” Her voice sounded prim. He suspected she was laughing at him. “You’re going to give me a large bonus in my next paycheck for not only realizing I needed to get away from all the people who were making my skin prickle but for going to a quiet place where I wouldn’t be alone and you wouldn’t have to worry about me. And if I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have found Sam and Skippy.”
He couldn’t argue with any of that, but . . .
“I wish you were here too,” Meg said quietly. “I wish we were all curled up in the straw watching the storm. Then you would be safe too.”
“I’m safe.” Somehow, knowing he couldn’t just run out and join her made it feel like she was too far away.
Rain mixed with hail lashed the windows. Damn! Had he remembered to close the apartment windows this morning? Had she? He wasn’t going to ask. This would be a new thing for her and she would fret.
He sighed. “It’s started. I’d better go. You stay with Jester.”
“I will.”
“And don’t let Sam go out, not even to pee.”
“I won’t.”
“And if Skippy rushes out, don’t you follow him.”
“I won’t. Geez, Simon, are you becoming a micromanager?”
He didn’t know what that was, but it sounded like an insult—and it sounded like something he should bite.
He grunted and hung up. As he went downstairs, it occurred to him that feeling a little insulted by Meg’s teasing had cheered him up.
To: Douglas Burke
I hope this gets to you. Reliable sources say the Cel-Romano troops stationed in the land taken from the terra indigene have disappeared. Lots of blood and smashed equipment; some body parts—and indications that at least some of the men died from an unknown kind of plague. Some speculation that soldiers from “provincial” areas deserted and are making their way home, but it’s assumed that most of the men stationed in the wild country are dead.
Fishermen from mainland villages situated on terra indigene land warned Brittanian fishermen that Cel-Romano is “about to get some weather” and advised the men to stay close to home.
—Shady Burke
CHAPTER 50
Earthday, Sumor 1
In Lakeside, lightning struck any moving vehicle with uncanny precision while rain rushing in house gutters roared like Talulah Falls. Streets became swift-flowing rivers. Roofs leaked. Basements took in water. And everyone prayed to the gods and their personal guardian spirits that the rain would stop before the creeks overflowed their banks too far.
Then a fierce north wind blew the rain south, and a dense fog covered the city of Lakeside with an odd silence.
And then they entered Lakeside to roam the streets for prey, and the worst of them walked on two legs.
• • •
Douglas Burke grabbed Louis Gresh the moment the rain lightened to drizzle and that damn fog covered the city.
“Take your men and hold the back door,” Burke said with quiet urgency. “Keep it locked. Keep everyone in, and I do mean everyone.”
“Storm’s over,” Gresh protested. “We should get out there now.”
“Louis, the storm hasn’t started yet.” The men were restless, coiled to get out there and help. Gods above and below! Did his men think he felt any different? But if they went out too soon, they would be among the victims instead of being the rescuers.
“Hold that door¸ Commander.”
Louis studied Burke’s face, then nodded and went off to set up a barricade at the station’s back door.
Satisfied that Gresh would stand with him, Burke hurried into his office. He wasn’t sure if Police Commissioner Kurt Wallace had landed at the Chestnut Street station by chance when the storm hit or if the man had thought hiding among officers who had been labeled Wolf lovers would keep him safe. But Wallace was still a vocal HFL supporter, and having him here at the same time as Nathan Wolfgard was creating a dangerous kind of uneasiness among some of the civilians and cops who weren’t quite convinced that the HFL movement was about to become as extinct as the dinosaurs.
After checking to make sure a round was chambered in his service weapon, Burke took two more loaded magazines from a desk drawer and slipped them in his suit coat pocket.
As he strode for the door, he stopped and turned around. “Nathan?” The Wolf had spent the past couple of hours in here—and forced the station’s chief to host Wallace in order to keep the two apart. Now the visitor’s chair held the clothes that Nathan had worn, but there was no sign of the Wolf.
Hoping Nathan wasn’t in danger inside the station—or about to attack anyone he considered an enemy—Burke strode through the building, pushing past a group of people heading for the station’s front door. He locked the door, stood in front of it, and drew his weapon.
“No one is leaving yet,” he said in a voice that allowed no discussion or challenge—at least not until the chief or Wallace confronted him.
He would deal with them if and when the time came.
• • •
Something moved outside the Pony Barn. Meg couldn’t hear it, but she knew it was there, felt the weight of its presence on her skin.
She tightened her grip on Sam, not that he seemed inclined to leave any space between them. Skippy, for once showing sense, had burrowed in the straw at the back of the stall. Jester stared at the barn doors as if that alone would keep them closed and keep everyone safe.
All the ponies who weren’t out with the Elementals poked their heads out of their stalls, but Tornado and Quicksand came out and faced the doors.
Jester glanced at Meg, then focused on the doors again.
She felt nothing like prophecy under her skin. No pins and needles, no prickles or buzzing. Because none of them had a future? Or because she should already know the choice she should make?
We are here, still keeping watch. Still protecting the world.
Meg raised her head. “Arroo!”
“Shhhh,” Jester whispered.
“They need to know we’re here. Arroo!”
“Arroo!” Sam howled.
Something pulled one of the barn doors open an inch or two.
“Arroo!” Meg howled. Now Sam and Skippy howled with her.
More howls now from the Wolves keeping watch in various parts of the Courtyard.
We are here. Wasn’t that the message that had been silenced in other parts of Thaisia? But not in Lakeside. The Wolfgard was still here.
“Arroo!”
A snuff. A huff. A . . . laugh?
The barn door closed—and something moved away, leaving behind an odd silence.
Meg blinked. “Was it . . . were they laughing at us?”
Grinning, Jester collapsed in the straw beside her. “They had never heard the howl of a not-Wolf, and they were curious.”
“They were laughing at us.”
“That too,” Jester agreed cheerfully. He sprang up. “Want some food, Meg?”
“Is it done? The storm and . . . after?”
“For us it is.”
He seemed sure of that.
She stood and brushed off her backside. “I’m going to wash my hands first.”
“Don’t use too much of the toilet paper. I wasn’t planning on having a female here when I brought in supplies.”
Grabbing the carry sack that held her personal items, Meg went to the toilet in the back of the barn. She closed the door, opened the sack, and smiled. There, on top, was a roll of toilet paper that Merri Lee or Ruth had packed.
“Ha!” Meg said, setting the roll on the toilet tank.
As she took care of business, she wondered if her little “arroo” would become another story that traveled to other Wolf packs.
• • •
Nathan shouldered his way through the crowd of humans who were between him and the front door, careful to avoid the shoed feet that could stomp on his paws.
“No one is going anywhere yet.” Even with the mutters and mumbles and, in a few cases, loud curses, Burke’s voice boomed, making it easy to locate the man.
Gresh had his pack to help him guard the back door, but Burke was facing down these humans alone. He pictured Burke with fur and decided he would have made an acceptable Grizzly.
Reaching the front door—and Burke—Nathan looked out the glass at the fog. The Elders were out there, thinning the herd. He could feel them. If he could convince Burke to open the door just an inch, he could sniff the outside air and get a sense of how close they were to this police den. Since he didn’t think Burke would open the door, he’d do his job another way.
“Arroo!” Nathan howled. “Arroo!” He continued howling to the other terra indigene.
“Burke!” a human shouted. It sounded like that Wallace man. “Make that . . . creature . . . stop that racket.”
“I think he’s trying to save the lives of everyone here by warning off the other predators,” Burke replied. “Do you really want me to tell him to stop?”
Nathan, and Burke, waited for an answer. Met with silence, Nathan resumed his “I am here” howl.
Something came close to the glass door. Something on two legs that towered over Burke, who was a large human. Couldn’t really see the shape—it seemed clothed in the fog—but the claws that suddenly raked the glass, scoring it, were clear enough.
Humans gasped. Some fell in an effort to move away from the door. The police in uniform stared at him, at Burke, at the glass—and finally, maybe, understood.
“Captain?” one officer said. “When . . . ?”
Burke looked at Nathan, who thought for a moment. The Elders were moving away from this den, but they weren’t far enough away yet that they wouldn’t return if prey suddenly began pouring out the doors.
He took up guard position in front of the door and returned Burke’s look.
“Not yet,” Burke said. “But soon. Patrol officers, work with dispatch and start prioritizing the calls so we can move as soon as we get the all clear.”
Burke holstered his weapon and studied Nathan. “I need to make some calls. Will you be all right here?”
“Arroo,” Nathan replied softly. He didn’t think any humans would bother him while he was between them and the terra indigene who were hunting on the streets.
• • •
Tess walked out of the Liaison’s Office, took two steps away from the building, and stopped. She couldn’t see a damn thing in this fog, and she didn’t want the embarrassment of tripping over something—or someone.
Taking a step back, she held one hand behind her and felt the reassuring metal handle on the door.
Main Street should be directly
in front of her, just beyond the delivery area and the sidewalk. But she didn’t hear the sound of cars; she heard fast-running water.
Meg would be disappointed if the young plants in the kitchen garden drowned or were smashed beyond recovering by the hail and pounding rain. The rest of the human pack would be disappointed too, but they didn’t quite belong with the terra indigene in the same way that Meg did, and their disappointment wouldn’t ripple through the Courtyard.
Nothing she, or anyone else, could do about saturated ground and runoff and streets turned into streams.
Whispers. Muffled curses. The splash of an animal fording water. The yelp as one of them lost his footing and was swept away.
Tess pushed the hood off her head. No need to maintain a veneer over her true form in order to lessen the impact of looking at her; the fog would serve that purpose now. After all, she wanted to harvest enough life from her prey to make them fatally ill but not immediately. Let them scurry back to the cars parked across the street or their companions in the Stag and Hare who probably had cheered them on when they proposed striking at the terra indigene under the cover of the storm. Too bad they hadn’t realized that the storm had been shaped for the benefit of the other predators who moved through the city now.
Clear stripes in the fog, as if something had raked claws over a gray blanket. Tess saw figures approaching. Four, five, six. Did they have weapons? She had to assume they did, and even one of Namid’s most ferocious predators couldn’t afford to be careless about weapons like guns.
Nyx sighed.
Six flashlights turned on, beacons that said, We’re here, come eat us!
Seeing no reason not to oblige, Tess moved swiftly, heading in the direction of the man who was closest to the shoulder-high brick wall between the delivery area and Henry’s yard. Her shoulder hit an arm. The man swore and looked directly at her as he tried to grab her.