by Sydney Addae
Damian picked up the scent of the female from the hospital and looked around. The scent went in circles, which made no sense. "Yeah, think she's following us?"
Raoul stopped and stared at Damian. "Why would she do that? Do you know her?"
"No, just by scent. Never met her or seen her face. But her being in the same area and disappearing twice in the same day is too much a coincidence and I don't believe in those."
Raoul nodded as he inhaled deeply. "Smells good though."
Damian rolled his eyes and walked inside. "Did you inspect this place as I asked?"
"Not yet," Raoul said, moving inside. "Phew, that stinks. What’s that?"
Damian noticed the noxious odor which hadn't been in the house during his inspection. He opened the bedroom door and on the dresser was a cup filled with liquids and herbs releasing the rancid smell.
Raoul covered his nose as he backed away from the room. "What is that?"
"I don't know," Damian said, closing the door and following Raoul toward the exit. "It wasn't there a few minutes ago when I looked around."
"She put it there?" Raoul asked, a tinge of disbelief and confusion in his voice.
"Her scent's the only one I'm picking up." Damian said, looking around for clues.
They stepped onto the porch. Damian looked at the button again, sniffed and frowned. "What the hell?" he murmured bringing the button closer to his nose. "I lost the scent." Disbelief bled through his words as he looked at Raoul.
"What?" Raoul leaned forward to smell the button. The first time he shook his head and then tried again. The look on his face must have mirrored Damian's. "How's that possible? I still smell that bullshit in the bedroom but not this?"
Damian morphed into his hybrid and inhaled. "Faint." His voice deeper, gruffer. "Not enough to follow." He dropped the button into Raoul's hand and returned to his normal size. "It has to be whatever is in that room, it's affected our sense of smell."
"No, not really," Raoul said, handing Damian the button and returning to the nondescript living room. "I bet it's more detailed than that because I smell the rotted food in the garbage, the sour milk left on the counter. But what I no longer smell..."
"That bitch," Damian said, realizing what Raoul said was true. "That stuff wiped away her scent."
Raoul nodded and stared at the closed door which hid the offensive smell. "Question is why?" More animated than he'd been in a while, he looked at Damian, "Why would she risk it?"
"We were in the woods, what did she risk?" Damian asked as he secured the button into a plastic pouch for safekeeping.
"How did she know that? She's not wolf."
Damian thought about it and agreed with Raoul. "Good point. She took a calculated risk and beat the odds. First she's at the hospital and now here in Height's home. What's her connection to all of this?"
"Why is Sheila Height the only female to contract the itch?" Raoul asked, walking toward the exit. "The answers may be connected."
"Because the human came to Sheila's house?" Damian asked, following behind him and closing the door.
"More because she doesn't want us to recognize her by scent, which means she knows we can."
"She knows we're wolves." Damian said, picking up the train of Raoul's thoughts. That wasn't good, not by a long shot.
Chapter 6
Damian and Raoul's intense search for a common thread amongst those infected sent them to Key Largo, the Everglades, Cutler Bay, and finally to the Miccosukee reservation. The past two days, they'd met the families of each person suffering in the clinic, including those recently admitted. The only thing they shared was their male full-blood status. Neither Russell nor Eugene, the other KnightForce agents in the state, found connections either.
"Almost there?" Raoul asked.
Damian glanced at him. Since they’d left Sheila Height's home, Raoul's attitude changed. That night, instead of the two women coming over for fun, Raoul canceled his date and watched TV. Damian left him at home and went to meet the ladies at a club. He'd had a fun time and released a lot of tension later with his date. When he returned home around three in the morning, Raoul's bedroom door was closed. When Damian walked bare-chested into the kitchen for coffee this morning, Raoul had been dressed and ready for work.
"Yeah." Damian kept his responses short, Raoul hadn't said much today. Now that he thought about it, Raoul spoke more to the people they interviewed than to Damian, which shouldn't bother him, but did.
Raoul nodded and continued looking out the window.
"You got plans for tonight?" Damian asked to see if that was a sore spot.
"No. I'm going to chill on that for a while."
Damian opened his mouth to ask why and then stopped when he realized he didn't really care. The rest of the drive was in companionable silence. Damian went over all the clues, few as they were, in this case and couldn't connect any dots. Thirst and the need to stretch his legs caused him to pull off the highway into the parking lot of a supply store to grab a drink.
Raoul looked at him but didn't say anything as he stepped out of the SUV. Damian stepped out, locked the truck, and headed into the store. Before reaching the door he stopped and inhaled. Following the scent, he walked around to the side of the building. Seated beneath the shade of a nearby Mangrove tree were two male full-bloods. Both appeared old and weathered, something he'd never seen before.
"Hello," Damian said when the silence stretched between them.
They nodded and continued staring at him.
Damian looked at the swamp beyond, the high roots of the trees, a swirl of insects and birds resting on branches for brief respites.
"Been a long time, huh?"
Damian turned toward the men and zeroed in on the man closest to him. "What?"
The elder’s faded blue gaze held his. "Since you ran in nature."
The comment surprised Damian. "Yeah, it's been a while." He looked at the raw, natural beauty of the swamp again.
"I'm Cain, this here's Abel." The older man pointed to the male seated next to him.
Damian nodded.
"He's too young to catch the joke," Abel said, his voice deep and rusty sounding.
"I suppose," Cain said, looking up at Damian. "Or somethin's troubling him to the point he didn't catch it."
Damian had no idea what they were talking about, of course he was younger than them, these two could be older than La Patron. But something did trouble him. "There's been an outbreak of sorts and I'm trying to find some answers."
Both men stared at him for a few seconds. "Who are you? It's rude not to give your name after a name's been given," Cain said.
"Damian Farkas, KnightForce for this area."
"Heard of them," Abel said and turned away.
"What'd you hear?" Cain asked, looking at his brother.
Abel waved and both men fell silent for a few moments while Damian stood watching. Raoul walked around the corner and handed him a bottle of water.
"Thanks." Damian took a large gulp, appreciating the coldness of the liquid in the heat.
"You a KnightForce too?" Cain asked Raoul.
"No," Raoul said. He looked at Damian. "Ready?"
"In a few minutes. I'm going to ask if they've seen or heard anything about the virus."
"Think they'll talk to you?"
"Why wouldn't they?" Damian asked.
"They're old and may not like your approach. Ask them questions about themselves first, pay them respect and courtesy as if they were La Patron."
"What?"
"These two are old school, they won't just talk unless they think you're worthy."
"How do you know?"
"Their scent for one, isn't that why you came around here?"
"Yeah."
"I smelled their age but didn't want to deal with it. A lot of the older ones are a pain in the ass with all their bowing and scraping bullshit, but they may know something. Ask them if they are the historians for this area, if they are, then they know e
verything that's happened here since they've been in this place, which may be a long time, maybe even since they were born."
Damian finished drinking, tossed the bottle into the recyclable bin and headed for the SUV. "Cain, Abel, it was nice meeting you, be well."
"And you too, young KnightForce agent, I hope you find what you seek," Cain said.
"He won't," Abel said in his gritty voice, stopping Damian.
"I won't?" Damian said, retracing his steps to stand in front of the two men.
"No." Abel didn't look at him.
"What am I looking for?" Damian crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Abel.
"Love? Happiness? Joy? Peace? What does a man search for?" Cain asked.
Damian ignored him. "Abel? What am I looking for?"
Abel waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Answers to the riddle of what makes them scratch?"
Intrigued, Damian pulled up a wooden crate and sat. In this position he looked up to the men and noticed they were almost identical twins. Both wore their white hair in a long braid, and had deep grooves in their cheeks. Two pairs of faded blue eyes stared down at him. "Yes, Sir, that's what I'm looking for. La Patron set me on this task and I cannot fail him."
At the mention of La Patron the men inhaled deeply and then released slowly. "Silas is now La Patron," Cain said in a tone filled with warmth. "It's been centuries since I've seen him. Is he well?"
"You know him? I mean before? When he came to this country?" Damian couldn't believe it, but it was possible.
Abel chuckled. "Yes, we met him when he first arrived up north. He wasn't exactly sure then how to fulfill his quest. It was obvious he was in over his head."
"Although he'd been born Alpha, he'd never been in charge of a pack before, came here green," Cain said, smiling.
"My sire works in the compound with La Patron, I lived there until this assignment and I can assure you La Patron's not green," Damian said, salty over the criticism.
"Don't get riled, pup. Silas didn't remain green long, in fact what he did in this country is legendary, as is the man himself. We've served him on many occasions, and count him as a friend," Cain said.
"When was the last time you talked to him?" Damian wanted to hear more about the young Silas Knight.
"Talked?" Cain rubbed his chin. "Over a hundred years for sure."
Abel nodded.
"Hawke?" Damian called his sire.
"Damian?"
"Can you verify two men named Cain and Abel who claim to know La Patron. Their scents are slightly different; it could be their ages. But before I accept any information from them I'd like to have them verified."
"Good thinking, hold on."
A few seconds later, La Patron brushed against Damian's beast. "Steady, I just need to see who you're looking at. If these two are who I think, they'll help solve this mystery for us."
Damian remained still as La Patron merged with his beast. "Thank you."
The next second, Cain's eyes widened and so did Abel's. The two brothers smiled, laughed, and slapped their knees. Damian looked at Raoul and shrugged. He'd remain until he got the assistance La Patron promised. A few minutes' later Cain wiped his eyes and shook his head.
Abel's gravelly voice fell into the silence. "Thank you, Damian. Silas is an old friend and our Alpha, as he so colorfully reminded us. There's no one better to lead our nation. He has some notion of us assisting you on this job and refused to listen to our objections. He's still stubborn I see."
Cain chuckled. "Damn, he's still the same man at his core, he hasn't changed. I'm happy to see that."
"As far as the itching that's attacked a few pack members, go back to the bitch's house. You started there and missed the answer, it's there. I can't tell you what it is exactly, but you overlooked it," Abel said.
Damian told them everything he recalled about that investigation.
Both men remained quiet.
"She hid her scent?" Cain asked. He looked at Raoul, who stood with his hands jammed in his pockets.
"Yeah." He told them about seeing her at the hospital as well.
"Where are you headed now?" Abel asked, watching Raoul as well.
Damian's gaze flicked to Raoul and then back at the two men. "Thom Viery was admitted this morning. We wanted to talk to his family, see if we could find a common thread."
"That's good thinking, but a waste of time. You won't get answers that way. The person who's doing this wants something and has left several calling cards if you know how to look for them," Abel said.
"Could you please return with us to that house? I'm not sure what exactly to look for," Damian asked, ready to move forward.
The two remained quiet for a few seconds and then stood. Damian's eyes widened. They stood almost seven feet and were as wide as La Patron. Raoul took a step backward while staring up at them.
"Silas said for us to assist you, so we'll teach you how to understand what you see. Go back to the house and we'll meet you there."
Chapter 7
The return drive to the outskirts of Homestead was done in silence. Damian wrestled with the idea of making sure Abel and Cain were obeying La Patron. If these two are who I think, they'll help solve this mystery for us." Were they the men La Patron thought they were, he never said. Damian glanced at Raoul and decided against asking his opinion.
"Hawke, is everything good with these two?"
A few seconds later Hawke came on. "Yeah. From the way Silas is lit up I think they were good friends at some point. Wouldn't be surprised if he got them up here or something. Seems they go way back."
"Thanks, just wanted to be sure." He told Hawke about the conversation with the two men and how old and big they were.
"Might be a good time to learn more about tracking or investigating, means the same thing. Be interesting to see what started all of this."
Damian pulled into the driveway of the house and parked. Abel and Cain walked out from the trees and met him in the front. It took everything within Damian to keep his face neutral and not allow the shock or surprise to show.
Cain crossed his arms and wasted no time. "Look around, what do you see?"
Damian looked at the yard and the house. "A small old house with overgrown weeds, looks like no one's cut the grass in a year."
"What else?"
Damian looked over his shoulder down the street. "It's the only house that looks like this. I'm surprised they haven't tried to..."
"Tried to what?" Cain prompted, his bushy eyebrows in a downward slash over his eyes which now blazed cobalt blue.
He shrugged. "Make her fix it up or something."
"Have you researched the house?"
"Yes, it belongs to Sheila Height."
"What about the rest of the land?"
Damian frowned. "What land?"
Cain waved his arms. "All of this, who does it belong to?"
"The people who own the houses I guess."
Abel stepped from the shadows. "Silas wants us to teach you how to hunt rogues in our neck of the woods, but you're short on time, so listen." He held up a long finger. "When dealing with full-bloods out here, the land is always first. We need it like water and food. To understand your target, you must learn everything about this plot of land she calls home. For starters, who owns it now? Who owned it before? Who sold it and to whom? That gives you insight on who you're dealing with, a den, lone wolf, or neither. Sheila Height owned a large tract of land and sold a few acres to a developer. He built those houses down the road but stopped at the end of the paved road because this is her property. She's no poor bitch, no matter what this place looks like." He paused. "Assuming you'd known all of that information before driving out here, what would you do differently?"
"I'd search for more properties in her name or any of her relatives," Damian said, feeling the wind knocked out of him by how badly he'd misread things.
"Good. There's nothing else, so what would you do then?" Cain asked.
"I'd come
to this house but I wouldn't look at it the same. The first time I kinda felt sorry for her. Knowing she owns a lot of the land and is probably rich, I'd wonder what would make her live in a house like this," Damian said, looking at the small building.
"You think she lives here?" Abel asked.
Unsure how to respond, Damian hesitated. "Her scent wasn't strong, I assumed it was because she wasn't here, plus this area doesn't support basements because of the high water table."
Cain and Able moved closer to Damian. "How old is the bitch?"
"A little over a hundred."
Abel held up another finger. "When tracking full-bloods go by scent, your eyes can mislead you. Older full-bloods have a different scent, more like aged liquor, hard to explain but obvious when you taste or inhale. Look at La Patron, does he look a day over three-hundred?"
Damian thought of the man he'd seen at the Christmas celebration a few weeks past. "Not at all."
"He's older than that, but we're younger than him. Our hair turned white after our first change, it’s not an age thing. But you assumed we were older than Silas.”
"La Patron doesn't smell like you two. Neither does Jacques or Angus."
"Jacques? Angus? Who are they?" Abel asked.
"They work for La Patron and are older." If they didn't know Angus was La Patron's brother, he wouldn't tell them.
"Have you ever scented them to determine their ages, or just to learn if they are pack or not?" Cain asked, rocking on the heels of his boots.
Damian had no idea there was a difference. "To determine if they were wolf and their location."
Abel shook his head and stepped back into the shadows.
"Our beasts offer us so much more. Intent makes all the difference. Close your eyes."
Damian glanced at Raoul, saw him shrug, and closed his eyes.
"Tell me what you smell," Cain said, his voice easy, calm.
"The foul cup inside, pine, wintergreen." He sniffed. "Tobacco? Leaves burning?" Damian opened his eyes and saw the red glow from the tip of a cigar or something similar in the shadows next to the house.
"First thing you need to work on is your sense of smell. It'll save your life," Cain said, walking up behind him and holding a bowl filled with ashes. Damian looked at the bowl and then over his shoulder toward the house. No one was there.