Anchor

Home > Other > Anchor > Page 9
Anchor Page 9

by Jorrie Spencer


  It wasn’t until late evening that they stumbled upon something that brought Angus up short. Veronica, her gold eyes visible in the darkness, looked back at him in question while Angus opened his mouth and breathed, taking in as much of the scent as possible.

  Caleb, but not Caleb.

  Wolves’ scents resembled each other when they were related and this scent in the air was too close to that of Caleb’s to ignore. It was family, and likely his father, John. Faint, but Angus didn’t get these things wrong. He tracked the werewolf out of the conservation area and into a suburb.

  Quietly, Veronica followed, understanding he’d picked up the trail of a werewolf, if not knowing who. When they came to the house, Angus made the decision to shift. He disliked shifting in such conditions—in front of someone he didn’t know well and near human civilization. But time was at a premium.

  He turned and met Veronica’s gaze, and she gave the slightest of nods. Then he focused inwards, looking for his human who didn’t want to come out under these circumstances. He had to remind himself of the woman who needed to be found before it was too late. He thought of pulling back his wolf skin, an almost violent motion imagined, and there it was before him. The shift in presence, the wolf receding, his world receding, as the blackness surrounded him and turned him inside out.

  When he came to, lying on his side on the rough ground, he swore. What the hell had his wolf been thinking? It was freezing, and he was fucking naked in early spring. He was not going to be able to suss out information on Davies or the woman by knocking on the front doors of strangers while he stood nude on the doorstep. They’d simply call the police on the creepy streaker, and wouldn’t that be fun?

  Veronica gave a low woof, so Angus rolled into a crouch and then rose, following her. It took about ten minutes, but Veronica identified a quiet house, her sense of hearing now better than his, given their different forms.

  The house was empty of people though not uninhabited. While the heat from the shift still kept Angus warm, that wouldn’t last forever and he needed clothes. The back door was locked, no surprise, but it was a cheap knob rather than a deadlock, and it didn’t take much strength to break it. He paused a moment as he entered the house, listening for the sound of a house alarm going off. When none came, he strolled through the rooms, hoping to find clothes that would fit him, and discovered the master bedroom.

  The man of the house was shorter but heavier than him, so Angus belted himself into a pair of jeans that came down to mid-calf. The shirt wasn’t as bad a fit. The winter jacket was fine.

  As he stepped out of the house again, Veronica sat there and leveled him a wolfish grin, her first, and he smiled as he looked down at his too-short jeans. “They call these capris, right?”

  Then they sobered and marched over to the house which held Davies’s scent, though said scent indicated Davies had been here days ago. Angus directed Veronica to hide back in the woods, and she balked at the idea of retreating.

  “There’s little you can do,” he argued. “And if things go south, I absolutely need you to get back to the others. For her sake.”

  Veronica came up to him, licked his hand in a token of good luck and trotted off towards the woods.

  “If I’m not back in an hour, go,” he called after her.

  Veronica paid him no mind though she’d heard him. He turned towards the suburb. While sneaking in the back door of someone’s home was an option, he chose to walk up to the front doorstep and ring the bell.

  It took more than a few minutes, but a woman who he’d roused from sleep answered the door, opening it to a strange man. Unwise, even reckless. He breathed in—she was human—and with a quirk of her mouth she acknowledged his scenting her.

  Her smile came slowly, just this side of inviting. “Are you a friend of John’s?”

  So, she’d identified him as wolf. That was okay.

  “Not exactly,” he prevaricated, unwilling to say yes to her question. “I need to find him and I gather he’s been around recently.”

  She glanced down at his high-water pants. “You guys wear the most interesting outfits sometimes,” she deadpanned. “Would you like to come in?”

  He paused. He wanted answers, not a social call, but he wasn’t going to get one without the other. She desired his company and he needed to play that game, without raising false hopes, in case he required more information from her down the road. Still, something in him resisted going inside, playing human when he wanted to hunt as wolf.

  “We can talk over tea,” she suggested.

  “Is something going on here?”

  She blinked at his brusque tone. “I thought you could tell me.”

  Okay, perhaps tea would be best, sort this out. “I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of time.”

  “You guys never do.”

  We’re not all the same, lady. But he kept that thought to himself as he stepped inside. Again he breathed the air, guessing John had been here two or three days ago—before Mala’s dream of yesterday morning.

  Mala. He’d left her in the care of his people, yet Angus pushed down the urge to make a phone call and repeat to them the overwhelming importance of keeping this newly found dream wraith safe.

  If people discovered what she could do—if she’d actually done it, Angus reminded himself, though he didn’t take his doubts on this score seriously—she would be a target. No question.

  The woman threw cold cuts on the table and Angus wasn’t shy about eating them. She knew her wolves and their need to eat, evidently, and he’d just shifted, would shift again soon.

  “So, are you also looking for Sally?” she asked.

  He held her gaze, made a point of not looking confused. His gut screamed that this was very important, and the too-casual way she’d flipped the question at him suggested the woman before him was jealous.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Pamela.”

  “Pamela. I’m Angus.”

  “That’s a nice old-fashioned name.”

  “Thank you.” He gave an ironic tip of the head towards her. When she passed him a mug, he cradled it in his hands, though he wasn’t a big tea drinker. “Pamela, tell me why you’re asking me about Sally.”

  A resentment built in her eyes. Not murderous, this was lower-level emotion, some hurt, some annoyance. And jealousy. Sometimes that led to lies, so he had to be careful.

  “Please,” he added, and she responded to his plea.

  “John.” She shook her head, then laughed at herself. “He’s left me for Sally, if you must know. Though maybe you already do.”

  “I didn’t know,” Angus said mildly.

  “We were together for six months, which isn’t long. I realize that. But…” she lifted one shoulder, “…I thought he was more serious than to just…drop me.”

  Lady, if he’s left you, you don’t know how lucky you are. He stomped down on his urge to give her a lecture then and there about safety. Because she shouldn’t have invited him into her house.

  “John called me a groupie.”

  Angus nodded for her to continue.

  “Sure, I like wolves.” Her gaze focused on Angus. “I could like you. But I still thought John and I were going somewhere. I thought we had a connection.”

  Angus wondered if she’d been hoping for a mate. There were sometimes rumors among the humans that if they could get a wolf to be their mate, they’d live longer, have better sex, make super children. He wondered who the fuck had started that bullshit. No one lived longer, the sex, like any other couple, depended on the couple themselves, and the children were either human or werewolf, like their parents.

  “You seem like a nice woman, Pamela, so I’m going to be straight with you.”

  She pulled back her shoulders, bracing herself, and looked him straight in the eye.

  “From what I know of John, he’s unlikely to ever settle down. Don’t blame this on yourself.”

  “Don’t patronize me.” With a roll of her eyes
, more self-deprecating than rude, she asked, “What do you want of John?”

  “Family matters, I’m afraid. Can you tell me where he is?”

  She spread her hands out to indicate her helplessness. “He sure didn’t leave me a forwarding address.”

  “Sally, then, can you tell me where she is?”

  Pamela paused, trying to figure out the meaning behind his questions. “She’s a wolf, isn’t she? That’s why he dropped me.”

  Angus suspected Sally was the she-wolf they were looking for. He also suspected Sally wasn’t interested in John, hence his violence. Some males liked to control a female wolf, and John was likely one of them. Whether a female wolf wanted to be anywhere near him didn’t matter once they’d been found. “Perhaps. But I don’t yet know. That’s why I need your help. I don’t have enough information. If you can tell me where Sally is, I’d be grateful.”

  She crossed her arms. “If I help you, get John to visit me one more time.”

  Angus could see what she wanted. One last chance to seduce John, convince him to come back to her. It was written in her body’s posture.

  He didn’t think lying was going to work with this woman. She was observant. Besides, lies didn’t come easily to him. “John’s a shit, Pamela. I’d be doing you no favors convincing him of that, and to be quite frank, I have no reason to think he’d listen to me on this.” Or anything else for that matter.

  After regarding him for a moment, she rose and poured her untouched tea into the sink. “You’re honest with me. I’ll give you that much.”

  He waited and she sighed.

  “Sally lives in the very small town of Flint Hill. It’s about a two-hour drive from here.”

  Crap.

  Something in his face must have given him away, because Pamela looked a little worried. “I hate her, but I don’t wish her harm. Is she in trouble?”

  “Did John never beat you?”

  Pamela shook her head. “I don’t put up with that. Did he…?” She frowned, disbelief clear on her face. “Are you claiming he’s beaten others?”

  Angus was thinking of Caleb but he wasn’t going to mention John’s son. “Yes, I am claiming that.”

  She blinked once, not convinced, but willing to consider the possibility.

  He stood abruptly. “I can’t stay. Would you mind if I used your phone?”

  She gestured to the landline. “Be my guest.”

  Angus picked it up and called Veronica’s husband. David was playing central station when it came to messages from the wolves out on the search. Angus kept it brief, wording it in such a way that he didn’t pass on information to Pamela, who made no pretense about giving him privacy and not eavesdropping. She didn’t need to know about their comprehensive search for a she-wolf and Davies.

  While Angus wanted to jump in a car and drive to Flint Hill, he had a job to finish here—and Sally could be a red herring. He and Veronica needed to continue their sweep of their area while David passed on his information to the crew that was sweeping Flint Hill.

  He bid goodbye to Pamela, brusque but not rude.

  “Angus,” she said as he walked down the front steps. She was hanging on to the door, embracing the freezing night.

  Despite his impatience to get going, he turned back.

  “John doesn’t like other wolves very much.” She bit her lip. “So you watch yourself.”

  He was glad John had dropped this woman—for her sake. “Thank you for that warning. But you do the same—watch yourself. And stay away from him.”

  Pamela smiled, as if she knew better. He didn’t have the time, or even the ability to convince her otherwise, not now anyway. So Angus slipped into shadow.

  Chapter Ten

  After phoning his new information in, Angus and Veronica diligently continued their sweep, though he was anxious to be finished. But someone would have located Sally’s home address. Another group was there, doing their job, and he would stay here and do his. Before he shifted back to wolf, he’d given Veronica a brief rundown on what he’d learned from Pamela.

  They didn’t find anything further, neither a second taste of Davies in the air, nor the scent of another werewolf, male or female. By the end of day two, the six of them met back at the van and, some as human, some as wolf, drove back to David and Veronica’s.

  Veronica hadn’t shifted, which surprised Angus. He’d expected her to be human when she reunited with her husband. But she was tired, he expected, and once they got to her house and her husband opened their front door, she simply trotted up to where David was waiting and went into his open arms, leaning into him.

  No discomfort in that embrace.

  They waited on two more carloads to arrive, and for everyone to shift back to human in the privacy of a room, before they assembled in the crowded living area to get down to business.

  Trey was running this, but he didn’t blink when Angus almost pounced on the group who had covered Flint Hill. “Was she there?”

  One of the men leaned forward, face weary, and shook his head.

  “Nothing?” persisted Angus, figuring that at least they hadn’t found her dead body. Death’s scent was strong and hard to hide from werewolves.

  “We figure she might have been home ten days ago or so. We broke in. It looked like she left in a rush. Dishes on the counter, laptop computer left open.”

  After that, Trey took over and they all gave reports that didn’t amount to much of anything, even if it appeared everyone had been thorough. Angus and Veronica had found the most, but it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

  As the meeting was winding down, Trey looked across the room at Angus. “This may have been absolutely nothing, you know.”

  “Possible,” Angus allowed. “But I don’t think so. Not after talking to Pamela.”

  “We need more.”

  Angus held Trey’s gaze, comprehending exactly what Trey meant. Angus had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, had tried to ignore it as a possibility. For one thing, there was no telling if it would be a useful exercise in any way. And yet, they had to try. Or, to be more specific, Mala had to try. He had to ask her to dream.

  Trey stood up. “Phone your wraith. See if she can find out more.”

  My wraith. He liked the territorial sound of that, if not what he’d been called upon to do.

  Angus could have argued, could have made the point that Mala seemed to have little to no control over where she went in her dreams. She was a neophyte with no training in her abilities, nothing like those myths of powerful beings who ruled through their dreams.

  But Angus didn’t waste words and time. He picked up his phone.

  Mala was exhausted. She should have found Aileen’s constant company more aggravating, with all her eager and at times awkward questions, but Aileen was the most wide-eyed naïf Mala had yet to meet. Ironic since Mala sure didn’t consider herself worldly and experienced, despite Aileen’s attitude towards her. Mala tended towards the life of a hermit, even while living in Toronto.

  “I wonder if I should visit Toronto some day,” Aileen mused, as if she were considering a trip to Saturn’s outer rings, a physically impossible trip but something to imagine on occasion when feeling your most outlandish.

  She was in Mala’s room, crouched down on the floor in this way she liked to sit. Aileen claimed she didn’t find chairs comfortable, and in the three days they’d hung out, as Aileen described it, Mala was getting used to Aileen’s way of making herself at ease.

  “Are you inviting yourself to my place?” Mala asked with a smile. She rarely had people over, but given that Aileen knew more of her secrets than anyone in Toronto, the thought of having an out-of-town visitor was not unappealing.

  Aileen tilted her head. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” Mala echoed.

  “After Angus gets back,” Aileen amended, resting her head on her knees.

  Mala nodded. Mustn’t forget Angus, no one else in this bloody town did. Then again, neither did Mala. She worried
that she was developing a crush on him. Why this infatuation would grow in his absence, she didn’t know. Perhaps because he’d been the first person to take her dreams seriously. It was hard to resist that, and she was confusing this revelation with other feelings.

  Aileen stared at her, her golden gaze seeing too much, because she said, “Don’t worry. Angus likes you.”

  Mala snorted inelegantly. “Why do you say that?”

  “I can tell by the way he talks about a person.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to such a statement, so she didn’t, though she hugged close the thought of Angus liking her. The rap that came at the door jolted her out of her nice thoughts. It was Eden’s proprietary knock and Mala called, “Come in.”

  Eden entered, hand extended to pass something over to Mala, a cell phone.

  “What?” asked Mala, not wanting to take it. If it was bad news, she’d rather Eden told her in person.

  “Angus wants to talk to you.”

  “About what?” persisted Mala.

  “I don’t know,” replied Eden slowly, like Mala was being dimwitted. “He didn’t tell me, because it’s you he wants to speak to.”

  Mala pulled in a breath and took the phone from Eden’s hand. Despite it being so necessary he talk to her, it wasn’t like Aileen and Eden were going to give her privacy either. Everyone loved to listen to what everyone said around here.

  Or perhaps Mala simply wasn’t used to being around people outside of work.

  “Hello?” she asked.

  “Mala.” The way he said her name made her feel…important. Special. That said, his tone was solemn and his next words almost ominous. “I need you to do something for me.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say, Anything. But she would sound too eager. Besides, who knew what he wanted? She sure didn’t. Unless… Her stomach dropped.

  After all, he took her dreams seriously.

  “We didn’t find her, the wolf in your dream, but even apart from you, we have reason to think she’s down here somewhere.” He waited, as if he wanted her to say something but she resisted. “Can you try to find her in your dreams again?”

 

‹ Prev