Curtis tried to drag his attention back to the present. The echo of the taste of blood, red and misting in the air, threatened to make him gag. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Beside him, Luc shifted to peer down at the frozen image of the werewolf on the screen, and in doing so, touched Curtis’s shoulder. It was a subtle move, but Curtis felt relief flood through him at the gesture.
Wheeler shook his head. “No.”
“What about the rest of the packages?” Luc said. “It might be important. Who were they for?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Someone was murdered,” Curtis said.
Wheeler looked at him like he was a particularly shiny new sort of idiot. “People die all the time.”
“But if any of the other contacts know something—”
“They don’t. Use your damn eyes.” Wheeler stabbed a crooked finger at the screen. “That’s a werewolf. You’re after a werewolf. Faris himself, if I was a betting man. Not any of my other clients.”
Curtis frowned, but he didn’t know what he could say to convince the old man.
Anders put a hand on Wheeler’s shoulder. The old man flinched. “How about this, Wheeler? You tell us if any of those people come by any time soon to see if Faris might have been in touch. That good?”
Wheeler cringed. Curtis wondered if Anders was squeezing.
“I…I could do that.”
Anders let go.
Wheeler regained a little of his dismissive arrogance. “I’m telling you, though. You’re looking for a wolf.”
*
Outside the shop, Curtis buried his hands into his pockets and shivered. “Do we trust him?”
Anders snorted.
“I didn’t think so.” Curtis exhaled, a puff of white in the frigid air. “Which of the Families adopted him? And please don’t say the Stirlings.”
“The Mitchells run this place, I think,” Anders said. “Why?”
“Maybe I could ask about him. I know one of the Mitchells.” He didn’t feel particularly confident, though. Rebekah Mitchell wasn’t always approachable. He couldn’t blame her. He was still pretty new to their group. He’d been half hoping Wheeler had been a part of the Windsors, though the pawn shop didn’t really fit with his image of the Windsor family. He was at least mostly certain Mackenzie would be willing to help.
Wait. The Mitchells. Curtis remembered how Jonathan Mitchell had been reluctant at the dinner with Malcolm Stirling. Did he know something?
“It’s worth trying,” Luc said. “I’m not convinced that was Faris on the video. But there’s another wolf in the city who I’m told would be strong enough to deal with wards and likely able to take the hybrid form. We’ll need to speak to her.”
“What do we do now?” Curtis said. He felt like the whole trip to Wheeler’s Pawn Shop had been a waste of time. Worse, it had invoked the memory of Renard. And what Curtis had done to him. He shivered again, though it had nothing to do with the cold.
“We go home and warm the fuck up,” Anders said.
Curtis laughed. “That’s a deal.”
They started back to where Luc had parked his Mercedes. They climbed in, Curtis in the back, Anders riding shotgun.
“I have access to Renard’s former belongings. His papers, if he had any. Perhaps even his computer,” Luc said, once he’d started the car.
“You think it’s worth finding out whatever the fuck the whatsits were?” Anders said.
“I think if we don’t find answers soon, demons won’t be the only ones hunting werewolves. If others find out Wheeler was robbed by a wolf, the Families will get even more involved.”
“I don’t think he was lying when he said he hadn’t told anyone,” Anders said.
“Yet.”
“I still can’t figure out why a werewolf would attack a demon,” Curtis said.
“Oh, easy. Jealousy,” Anders said.
Curtis couldn’t help it. He laughed. Then he yawned.
When they were on the road, Anders’s phone burped. A long, wet belch.
“Charming,” Luc said.
Anders reached into his jacket. The phone burped again as he pulled it out. Curtis watched him eye the screen, and saw his shoulders slump.
“You mind dropping me off at Sintillation?”
“What’s up?” Curtis said.
“Someone wants to meet with me.”
“Ethan?”
“No,” Anders sighed. “Flint’s pack leader. Kavan. He doesn’t trust David because David had ties to the Families, so whatever this is, it’s probably not something he wants them to know.”
“Perhaps best you don’t mention we’re technically working with the Families now, then,” Luc said.
“You think?” Anders said.
“Do you need us to come with you?” Curtis said.
“Fuck no,” Anders said. “Did you or did you not just blast a bunch of demons?”
“They attacked me!”
“Not sure that’s quite how Kavan would see it.”
“We could wait for you?” Curtis said.
“I don’t think he’d like me bringing either of you along. Like I said, trust issues. It’s a clear night. I can shadow-walk home.”
Curtis leaned back in his seat. “You’ll be careful, right?”
“When am I not?”
Curtis met Luc’s gaze in the rearview. The vampire didn’t look reassured, either.
Ten
“You’ve been hanging with a bad crowd,” Kavan said. “I hear you had dinner with the Families. Thought you weren’t friendly with them.”
As greetings went, it wasn’t the most promising.
“Yeah, well, they called us. We didn’t call them.” Anders decided to go all-in. “Besides, free meal at Nineteen. Wasn’t bad. Good soup. Shitty ass beer, though.”
Kavan’s smile didn’t seem particularly amused. They were talking in an office off the main bar level of Sintillation. It was larger than the room upstairs where Anders had spoken with Ethan, and they were sitting in two chairs, one on either side of a plain desk. With the door closed, the music was reduced to bass echoes, though it was approaching closing time at the club.
“What did they want?” A pulse of heat came with the words. Kavan’s gaze didn’t waver.
A challenge was in the air, and Anders wasn’t about to be on the losing side.
“They wanted Curtis, like they always do,” Anders said.
Kavan frowned. “He’s the wizard.”
“Yes.”
“What did they want him for?”
Anders crossed his arms. “I thought your text said you had something for me. This feels an awful lot like me answering to you.”
Kavan’s jaw clenched. The muscles in his neck worked, and Anders could almost see the demon force his shoulders down.
“Your wizard was with one of the wolves,” Kavan said.
“Yeah, he was,” Anders said. “Because he wanted to make sure it wasn’t anyone in their pack who killed Flint.”
“And he took down some of my people.”
Anders scowled. “Because they jumped him. Look, I get it. You’re pissed. I get pissed when people fuck with me and mine, too. Which—hey—yours just did. So how about we cut the bullshit here? Your demons tortured that puppy at the tattoo place, right? Ten to one the dog said exactly the same thing we found out by asking nicely. It wasn’t their pack.”
“That’s what he said,” Kavan said. He didn’t sound convinced.
“Most people will say any damn shit to stop you breaking all their fingers. Don’t you think he would have copped to it if they’d done it?”
“He might not have known.”
Anders leaned back in his chair. This was getting them nowhere. “Look. I agree with you it looks like there’s a wolf at play. We’re working on that.”
“For the Families.”
“For ourselves, but the Families aren’t fucking with us while we do it.”
Kavan snorted.
“Well, not yet.” Anders couldn’t begrudge Kavan’s opinion. “I’m sure they’ll live down to my expectations. But right now, everything says it’s not a pack wolf. So call off the crusade.”
“That wolf killed Louis.” Kavan spoke the name with a harshness that surprised Anders.
He cares. He actually fucking cares. Kavan was the strangest fucking demon he’d ever met.
“I know,” Anders said.
Kavan finally looked down.
“How could you tell?” Anders asked. “When Flint died?”
Kavan didn’t move, but the heat he was putting off pulsed through the room.
“I can feel all of them.” Kavan looked Anders in the eye. “Where they are, how they’re doing, in a general way.”
“How?” Anders said. “You’re an incubus, right? Or are you a muse?”
“I’m an incubus.” Kavan shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”
He was lying. Anders had no doubt of that. But he didn’t think he could force Kavan to tell him anything he didn’t want to, and truth be told, if Anders himself had had some unique gifts, he wouldn’t have told anyone either. Hell, now he had the triad, he did have unique gifts. And he’d barely told Curtis and Luc about them.
Didn’t make sitting and learning fuck all any easier to swallow.
“What did you want to tell me?” Anders said.
Kavan hesitated.
“Fuck it. I’m done,” Anders said. He got up. “If I wanted to be at the beck and fucking call of someone who wants to talk down to me, I’ve got a pissy vampire at home way more qualified for the job.”
“Wait,” Kavan said.
Anders turned.
“I can feel Louis.”
Anders blinked. “What?”
“Now and then. For just a second. It’s like he’s back…” Kavan’s voice trailed off. Then he snapped his fingers. “And then he’s gone again.”
“Where?”
Kavan shook his head. “It’s not long enough. And when it happens…” He took a breath. “I get mad all over again. And it’s not just me.”
“What do you mean?”
“The whole pack. I can tell. When it happens, they all get hot. It’s like someone douses us with gas. They don’t notice it, not like I do, but it’s happening.”
Anders remembered Ethan’s words. They’re running hot.
“Someone’s fucking with my whole pack,” Kavan said. “I need to find that wolf. Before…” He shrugged. “Before someone loses their temper.”
Anders nodded. “Okay.”
Kavan’s leaned back in his chair. “Your wizard. He any good?”
“He’s the best.”
Kavan’s frown was there and gone again in a blink. “I hope so.”
“I’ll let him know what you told me. If anyone can figure it out, he can.”
“Not the Families,” Kavan said. “I don’t want a word of this going to the Families. If they think someone’s manipulating my pack, we’re all fucked.”
“I don’t doubt it. Okay. You feel anything else, you let me know, okay?”
Kavan rose and held out his hand.
Surprised, Anders took it. They shook.
“You need a ride?” Kavan said.
“That’d be great.” He could shadow-walk from any natural shadow, but a ride in a heated car was better.
Kavan picked up the phone from the cradle on the desk. He pressed one button and waited a moment.
“Hey, Burke. Need you to drive someone home for me, okay?”
A few moments later, a broad-chested demon with a shaved head and two full sleeves of ink opened the door. Between the ink, the white tank top, and the faded jeans, he screamed “bruiser.”
“This is Burke,” Kavan said. “He’ll drive you home.”
*
“Anyone ever tell you you look like Mr. Clean’s meaner brother?” Anders said.
Burke didn’t so much as crack a smile. He kept up the fast pace he’d set from the moment they’d left Sintillation. They’d walked in silence through one of the small garden areas lining the alleyways between the streets of the Byward Market, passing a tree surrounded by benches and sculptures and the now-closed coffee shops and other tourist stores. Anders knew the little shortcut well. The tree was a decent spot to shadow-walk to in the middle of the market, if he didn’t want to haul his ass from Major’s Hill Park. They’d come to the multi-level concrete parking garage, Burke still never having said a word. Anders hadn’t been able to resist.
“This way,” Burke said. He started for the stairwell.
“It speaks,” Anders said. “Hey, is Burke your first name or do you only have the one, like Cher?”
Again Burke didn’t react.
Anders jogged up the stairs to catch up, and they exited on the fourth level.
“Car’s right at the end of the—” Burke’s voice broke off in a puff of steam. He stared past Anders, his mouth open.
Anders turned.
At the other end of the parking lot stood a figure. A tallish man, he was directly beneath one of the lights, near the railing. He wore a long coat, unbuttoned, and no hat or gloves. Anders didn’t recognize him. Burke took a step forward, toward the man.
A pulse of heat rose from him, strong enough that Anders could feel it through his jacket.
“Louis?” Burke said.
The figure nodded.
What the actual fuck? Anders put a hand on Burke’s shoulder.
“Wait,” he said.
“Get off me,” Burke snapped, twisting out of Anders’s grip. He started across the lot, passing the rows of cars. “How are you here? What happened? Are you okay?” He was looking straight at Flint.
Flint shook his head, then cringed. He gripped his stomach. What might have been pain twisted his features, and he sank to one knee, hands clenched around his stomach now, sliding into his jacket.
“Louis!” Burke broke into a jog.
“Fuck,” Anders said, rocking on his heels. This was all wrong. For just a second. It’s like he’s back. Then he’s gone again. He grunted and started after Burke. The light flashed on the big man’s bald head as he sank to his knees beside Flint.
Anders was still three full steps away when Flint pulled his hand free from his jacket and tapped his fingers against Burke’s chest.
Burke was flung back bodily onto the ground, landing with a heavy grunt as though the concrete were a magnet and the demon was solid metal.
Anders skidded to a halt.
Binding spell. He’d seen Curtis do it often enough. Hell, he’d seen Curtis do it better, slamming people down hard enough to break bone.
Flint locked eyes with Anders and smiled. It was slow and eager, and his teeth began to grow and shift. Flint’s eyes swiftly turned amber, and thick hair had begun to spread up the back of his neck and across the backs of his hands. The hand that had cast the spell so easily at Burke was already sprouting sharp, cruel-looking claws.
Anders lit both hands with hellfire, taking a single step back. He didn’t want to be within the range of the werewolf’s claws, but he sure as fuck wasn’t unwilling to play. The golden-white fire licked between his fingers, and Anders met the creature grin for grin.
“Time to go to the farm, pup,” Anders said.
It leapt, and it was fast. Not just werewolf fast, either. The air itself blurred around the beast. It was hard to keep his eyes on the wolf. Anders had to twist sideways and almost leapt back as the werewolf dove into his space and lashed out with both clawed hands.
He managed to tip his head back far enough to avoid the werewolf’s left hand, which had tried to tear at his eyes, but the move left him open to the other swipe. It tore through his jacket and shirt and, from the feel of it, pretty fucking far into his chest and stomach. He threw up one hand, connecting with the werewolf’s wrist as he deflected another downward slash, and the beast released a satisfying snarl of pain as the hellfire burned its flesh.
The two stumbled bac
k from each other.
Anders glanced at Burke, but he was still pinned. No help there.
He pivoted. Stepped back. The werewolf rushed again, but this time, Anders managed to move almost as fast, dancing another few steps around. His back was to the railing, and he didn’t have a clear shot at the exit, either. Pain screamed all the way across his chest to his stomach, and he could feel the blood soaking his shirt beneath the sliced jacket.
Shit.
Demons healed fast, but they still needed a second to fucking breathe to do it.
The werewolf snarled. The face was barely recognizable now, the jaw and nose extended into something far more canine than human. The eyes were amber and bestial. Hair covered the exposed skin.
It raised its clawed hands again, and Anders braced, ready to bolt left or right.
Instead, the werewolf held up both hands and made a short, jerky pushing motion.
Anders had only a second to wonder what the hell the werewolf was doing before a wall of heat and force slammed into him, knocking him backward over the railing. He reached out wildly, at the last moment barely gripping part of the frozen metal vertical bars lining the railing. He swung wildly away from the building before crashing back into it. His shoulder screamed with pain.
His grip slid down the length of the bar, dropping him another few feet and mashing his hand against the rough concrete at the bottom, sending a white-hot echo of pain up his shoulder a second time. He scrabbled for another handhold, finally managing an awkward grip on the side of the concrete pillar with his other hand. Hanging there, he doused the hellfire and gritted his jaw, breathing heavily and concentrating hard to hold his grip steady against the pain across his chest and shoulder.
Right. Fucking wolf does magic.
He glanced down and brought one foot, then the other, onto the railing of the floor below. Taking the weight off his hands was enough to make him breathe clearer, even though his heart was hammering in his chest.
He could still hear the beast above him, but it didn’t seem to be chasing after him. It didn’t seem to care to check if Anders had been splattered on the alley below or not.
Anders wasn’t sure what that meant, beyond it being fucking insulting, but he had to stop the goddamn wolf. He awkwardly slid himself from the railing onto the third floor of the parking lot, managing to stay upright when he jumped down, but only just. Another stab of pain flashed across his chest.
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