by Lish McBride
He took it, folding the number neatly and putting it in his pocket. “She like you?”
Sid stiffened. “Yeah, she’s like me. In fact, she’s my cousin. And she’s wicked good with a hammer. You give her any shit, she’ll bring it down. Then the rest of the drove will descend to clean up what’s left, you get me? So watch your manners.”
Manny’s smile was slow and lazy. “I like you guys. Funny.” He shook his head. “No one said you guys were funny. Don’t worry. If she can clean this mess up fast, I’ll kiss her feet and call her a queen.” He kicked a piece of broken chair. “Come on, I’ll show you Howie.”
The boys led the way back into the hallway, and I hung back, making eye contact with Bianca. “Cat?” I mouthed, making little finger ears.
She nodded slowly, mouthing back, “I think so.” Then she snorted. “It would explain the attitude.”
Manny led us into the kitchens. Even though the bar wasn’t quite open yet, the kitchen was busy. Prep cooks were chopping and making sauces; the head chef walked around with a clipboard, checking inventory. Waitstaff darted about, grabbing this and that. Everyone made sure to stay out of Manny’s way.
We stopped in front of an industrial-size freezer that was flanked by two more gigantic bouncers, one of them the tallest and strongest-looking woman I’d ever seen. Where did Manny find these giants? Did he have them imported from some huge country, or were they clones of some sort? I noticed that the freezer had dents in the door. Dents pointing out.
I pointed at them. “Were those here yesterday?”
“Nope,” Manny said, grasping the handle. “That’s all Howie.” He paused before he opened the door. “Seems to have calmed down a little. At least, he stopped punching the walls. Ready?” He cracked opened the door without waiting for us to answer and swung it open slowly.
I’m not sure how Howie looked earlier, but he didn’t look good now. When weres have been fighting, you can’t tell the way you usually would with people. They heal too fast. You have to look for secondary signs. Torn clothing, bloodstains, and so on. Howie was a mess. His clothes were torn and bloody. His hair was wild, like he’d been running his hands through it. The skin around his knuckles was pink and fresh, so he hadn’t stopped punching the walls until fairly recently. Manny had more to worry about than just his dining room. Howie had gone on some sort of spree in here. Grated cheese dusted the floor. Boxes were turned over and ripped up. Whole chickens and turkeys were tossed around, their pale carcasses eviscerated.
“Glad I didn’t put him in the fridge,” Manny said. “We just got a shipment of Kobe beef in there.”
Howie was hunched in a corner, surrounded by torn-open boxes of butter pats and freezer jam. He looked feral and moderately hypothermic.
“I think the cold slowed him down.” Bianca cupped her hands by her face and blew into them for warmth. I could see my breath even though we were by the open door.
I poked Sid. “He remind you of anybody?”
Sid moved to the side, watching Howie. Then he moved to the other side. Howie may have been half-frozen, but his eyes tracked Sid. Mad but aware. “He reminds me of our warehouse friend.”
“He does look a bit peaked.” Bianca pulled out her phone and dialed. “Which means that despite our care, this problem followed us from Portland.”
“Or it was already here,” I said.
Bianca shook her head. “Either way, Alistair isn’t going to be happy.”
Alistair didn’t want us to bring Howie back to the Inferno. If Howie had caught or been infected with whatever had driven Elias Johnson to Crazy Town, he didn’t want it that close. But he didn’t want Howie destroyed, either. With the hypothermia, Howie’s frenzied state had been slowed. He was an ideal specimen for Dr. Wesley to study. We had an opportunity to bring him in safely, or as safe as we were going to get, and we couldn’t pass it up.
So we shut the door and waited for Alistair’s people in plastic suits to show up. It was tempting to sit down and rest, but it didn’t seem right. And I knew that if I sat down for too long, I’d curl up and take a nap. So we left the bouncers in charge of guarding the freezer door, warning them not to open it for anyone but the people in hazmat suits, no matter what. We also had to make sure that the food the cooks had been preparing was not from the freezer or that it had been removed before Howie had been tossed in. The chef assured us that he’d check in with the prep cooks and make sure.
That done, we headed back to the dining room to clean up. Manny gave us gloves, and Sid found a shovel and some brooms. We righted the table with the help of a few waiters and then started stacking the furniture that looked salvageable in one corner. Bianca and I swept up the glass and bigger debris, while Sid shoveled it into a garbage can. We managed to make a small dent in the mess before the hazmat team showed up. Unfortunately, all that the cleaning really did was reveal more damage. The wood floor had been scraped to hell under the table. It would have to be refinished, and we discovered more wall dents and a few broken fixtures.
Once Alistair’s team had sedated and collected Howie, we were free to leave. We piled our tools by the door in the ruined dining room and got ready to leave.
“Sorry we didn’t help much,” I told Manny.
He dried his hands on a bar towel and flipped it back onto his shoulder. “You got that guy out of here and helped clean up the dining room. And your boy here got me in touch with Felicity. She’s already on her way with her team.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “You guys did good. Never met a Coterie team that would help with the dirty work, you know? We’re grateful.” One of the waiters came out with to-go boxes. “I’m sending some food home with you guys as a thank-you.” Manny shook his head. “You’re welcome here anytime. Tell your boss that, too. Never thought I’d see the day that I’d be saying that to a Coterie team.”
We thanked him for the food and promised to pass on his invite to Alistair. Manny was right. I never thought I’d see the day when the Coterie got that kind of welcome, either. A few months ago, we were a necessary evil called in when the crap you were facing needed the biggest weapon you could muster. Had Alistair really changed the organization that much, that fast? Or was it all an illusion? A false sense of calm to coax in the reluctant mouse?
*
IT WAS NICE getting back to the cabin and not feeling like I needed two showers and the utter destruction of everything I was wearing. I had to wipe some plaster dust off my face and do a quick washing-up, but that was it. Sid spread the food out on the table and texted everyone to let them know we had a feast waiting. We were the first team back. Either that or the other teams had already been back and then sent out again. With just Sid, Bianca, and me, it was quiet.
I kicked off my boots and collapsed on the couch to watch TV. I was too tired to read, though I missed it. TV’s nice, but there’s just something about a book.
Sid nudged me over, sprawling out on the other half of the sofa. He had an untouched chicken leg in his hand.
“Shouldn’t you be vegetarian?” I asked. I prodded him until he gave me more room. “You know, being a hare and all.”
Sid took a big bite out of his drumstick. “You forget. Human. Omnivores.” He took another bite, tearing the chicken with his teeth.
“You’d better not be on my bed,” Bianca yelled from the kitchen. Since she’d been sleeping on the couch, she’d become a little proprietary about it. I heard her enter the living room, but she didn’t come over.
“C’mon, Bianca. Joooooin us,” Sid called.
“Yeah, what are you doing, anyway?” I asked. I didn’t particularly care if Bianca joined us or not. I had to admit that my bone-deep dislike of her had been waning the more we worked together, but that didn’t mean I wanted to hang out all the time. Still, I could be friendly.
“Adding our info to the board, you lazy bums.”
“I’m not a bum,” Sid said.
“You live in a tent.” The marker squeaked as she wrote everything down on t
he board.
“I live in a caravan,” Sid corrected with a superior lilt to his tone.
I snorted. “You live in a trailer with your sister on someone else’s land. That’s not much better.”
Bianca twisted away from the board, her smile so big, I could see a dimple in one cheek. “You live with your sister?”
Sid frowned, clearly not liking our tone. “Look, it’s different for us. The drove likes to stay together, and until recently we lived on the go. Works better for our kind. Think of it as a cultural lifestyle choice.” He scooted over to make room for Bianca, pushing me to the edge of the couch. It was my couch. Why was I getting squished? But I didn’t complain. Sid was used to a lot of people and a lot of companionship. This week had probably been difficult for him. Whereas I was used to a lot of alone time, so my stress was in the other direction.
After a brief hesitation, Bianca joined us, though she chose to sit rather than sprawl. “Okay, but if I’m going to join you, we have to find something we all like. No reality TV. And I hate laugh tracks.”
I grabbed the remote and found a nature documentary on bats. We took a vote and all decided that bats were cool, so we stayed on that channel. Less than five minutes passed before Bianca was stretched out next to us. Sid leaned forward, placing his chicken bone on the coffee table, promising to dispose of it as soon as he got up. No one talked as we watched, and it was one of the most relaxing moments I’d had in a while. I hadn’t realized exactly how keyed up I’d been. First with the Lock and Ezra tension, then the Sylvie thing, followed by all this mess. With the exception of passing out the second I hit the mattress for naps, this was the closest thing to resting that I’d had in over a week.
So of course it couldn’t last. We were right in the middle of a disturbing part where the commentator was talking about white-nose syndrome, a fungus killing off millions of brown bats. It was spreading so fast, they were having a hard time dealing with it. Which meant a lot more bugs in my hometown, without the bats to eat them, and a fading good mood in our room, because we were all so fond of the little flying fuzzballs. That’s when Bianca’s phone went off, followed quickly by mine and Sid’s. I have to be the only person my age who would love to not have a cell phone. Sure, they’re convenient at times, but the problem with them is that someone can always find you. Bianca was the first up, as usual. Always ready and willing to jump to as far as Alistair was concerned. Sid and I were understandably less enthusiastic.
The plight of the brown bat would just have to wait.
12
CARELESS WHISPERS—PLANT EDITION
WE WEREN’T GONE LONG. Alistair just sent us out to burn down a building that wasn’t worth the cleanup costs. Apparently the insurance was worth more than the building would have been even after we’d cleaned it, and with everything going haywire like it was, he had to cut some of his losses. Plus, there was no way we could explain away those kinds of bodies.
Back at the cabin, I kicked my boots off and watched as Lock added more info to our board. “Who imports ushi-oni? What possible reasoning could they have to do such a thing?”
“Maybe they’re cute as babies,” Ezra said, removing his own shoes.
“They have the head of an ox and a spider body. There is no way they have cute babies.” I tugged at one of my laces, then realized I’d melted them together and that I’d have to cut my way out of them.
“Even possums have adorable baby possums, and the adults are hideous. It’s possible,” Lock said, intent on the board as he added notes.
If this kept up, we’d have to get another board. My phone beeped with a text from Sylvie. It was a photo of the whoopie pies that she’d made and brought into the bookstore. Whoopie pies that I would be eating if I were at work like I should have been.
I slumped in my chair. “I hate everything.”
“What I love about you, cupcake, is your undeniable optimism.”
“I’ll show you optimism right up the side of your head.”
“So violent,” Ezra murmured. He stretched his legs onto my lap. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired. A stunning creature was giving me the eyes earlier, and I couldn’t even be bothered to flirt back. I think I might be dead. Ava, my little plum blossom, I want to be cremated. Remember that.”
“If you die on me now, I’ll scatter your ashes in the Playboy Mansion.” I grabbed his leg, the one that had been injured, and rubbed it down for him.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Sid lay spread-eagled on the floor because apparently a bed was simply too far away and he was too tired to shift into a hare and curl up by the fireplace. “I would think you’d like the Playboy Mansion.”
Ezra sniffed. “The dream of frat boys and men with no imagination. Not interested. I plan to go out with some class.”
I patted Ezra’s leg. “Not to make you feel worse, but Sylvie just sent me a picture of the whoopie pies she made.” I’m not sure what Ezra’s favorite thing in the world is, but whoopie pies are high on the list.
He sat up quickly and held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
I leaned away from him. “Get your own phone.” You don’t hand things over to Ezra if you expect to ever get them back, though the way things were going, I was severely tempted to give it to him.
Ezra snapped his fingers at me a few times. “It’s charging. C’mon. It’s an emergency.”
Knowing I’d probably regret it, I handed him my cell. He immediately typed in my key code (which I hadn’t told him, by the way) and hit a few more buttons. “No, this is Ezra. How many did you make? And can you describe the smell to me?” I could hear the murmur of Sylvie’s voice on the other line, but not what she said. “Look,” Ezra said, cutting her off. “That’s great. Here’s what you need to do. Drive to Ava’s right now. I’ll pay you. Cash. And gas money. My soul. I need them, Sylvie!”
I could hear her laugh. Then Ezra went back to wheedling.
“If she’s smart,” Lock said, “she’ll wait until he offers her his car.”
“Even Ezra’s not that desperate.”
“I will give you my car!” Ezra shouted into the phone.
“Great, Lock, now you’re giving him ideas.” I shoved Ezra’s feet off of me, forcing him to sit up. Lock capped the dry-erase marker and put it away. I stared at the info on the board and knew I’d forgotten something. What was it? I was sure that if I stopped thinking about it, I’d be more likely to remember, but thinking that always makes it that much harder to stop thinking. Something about …
“Sylvie, come on! You’re killing me.”
Something about Sylvie. Sweaters! I snatched my phone from Ezra, then smacked his hand as he reached to grab it back. I’m afraid the slap fight went on longer than it should have. Lock had to intervene by sitting on Ezra.
“Sylvie,” I said, slipping off the couch to get away from the boys, who were now wrestling.
“Ava! Are you coming back soon? It’s not that I don’t like the extra money, but I’d also like a day off.”
“Didn’t Cade find a few helpers to come in?”
“Fine, I’m just bored and I miss you guys. Also, this is not how I saw my summer unraveling.”
“Ugh, sorry, Sylvie. I’m kind of stuck for now. I owe you big-time.”
“Yes, you do. I see a lot of puppets in your future as you help me make Godzilla, the Musical! a reality.”
“I don’t think the third act is ready.” (It wasn’t. Godzilla’s roaring soliloquy went on way too long.)
“I’ve been working on it.”
“Sylvie, I kind of have a weird question for you.”
There was a scraping noise as she switched the phone to her other ear. “Weird questions are my absolute favorite.”
“It’s about those cardigans you were knitting.”
“Cardigans?” She sounded cagey, and I knew instantly that my suspicions were correct. I wouldn’t have considered it a few days ago, not really. But now I knew that Sylvie had s
ome insider knowledge. Add that to her bizarre knitting project, and it was just too much to be a coincidence.
“Yes, your secret knitting project for charity.”
“I’m afraid I can’t disclose any information on that particular venture. Ava, I think I hear my mom calling me.”
“No you don’t, Sylvie. I know you’re at the store. The thing is, I met some kelpies the other night.”
“Kelpies?” her voice squeaked.
“Yeah, you know, murderous creatures that look like harmless Shetland ponies? They were wearing cardigans just like those odd-shaped ones you’ve been knitting. It’s kind of weird because they were on creatures you weren’t supposed to know about. But I’m starting to think that you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Silence greeted me on the other end.
I had her. I could tell. And I was thinking now would be a good time to get someone to cover Sylvie’s shift for once. “I’ll explain when I get there, but for now I need you to tell your mom you’re coming over to stay at my house for a few days. Summer sleepover, okay? We’ll pick you up in half an hour. You can borrow clothes from me.”
“Your clothes won’t fit me,” she argued, a note of desperation evident in her voice.
“Then we’ll make a pit stop at your place.”
Ezra raised his hands in prayer, and I took pity on him. “And would you please bring some whoopie pies?”
“I don’t know.” Sylvie didn’t sound completely comfortable with my idea. “That might be a strain on the bookstore. All those new people…”
“The bookstore will survive. Cade’s there, anyway. And don’t worry, I promise this is a mission for good. Oh, and pack those cardigans and your knitting stuff, just in case.”
She hesitated before she finally said, “You sure this is a good idea?”
“About as sure as I am of any of my ideas, which means not really, but you should do it anyway.”