A London Werewolf in America

by A London Werewolf in America (lit)

  “Or someone forewarned them.” His brief good humor disappeared. “Why watch the house to begin with, unless they were waiting for me?”

  “Maybe it’s all a mistake. Maybe it’s Charlie they’re after. He’s a cop, and he reports to Big Alex.”

  “You don’t believe that any more than I do. I’m the one they want dead, and both of us know it.” His lips twisted in an ugly snarl. “It’s definitely family.”

  “It’s beginning to look that way. I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. The afghan shifted dangerously. Darinda glanced away, not quite in time. “Don’t be. This is all quite normal for us. We need to determine who so I can take the fight to them, and not stand around like a—”

  “That’s that.” Aunt Letty bustled in from the kitchen. Darinda quickly shifted her position to hide the knife. No need to Letty know exactly how close a call they’d had. “I finally got past that awful human and got through to Charles. He’s already looking into it. He doesn’t get off duty until morning. He’ll call me then.”

  “Have him meet us at my place on South Street at ten tomorrow morning. We can trade info, and I need to check up on a couple of things. I get the feeling Big Alex will take it from there. With any luck we should have this cleared up in another day or two.”

  Then she could get away from Roderick and his disturbing, powerful pull. If only he didn’t get naked so often, and so easily and unselfconsciously. If only she weren’t so acutely aware of him as a male and not a werewolf.

  He’s getting married, she reminded herself. He’s made an oath to someone else.

  His nostrils flared briefly. “You’re spiking again,” he murmured.

  “I’m tired,” She said, and hoped she looked the part. “Attacks by Jersey muscle do that to me. We all need a good night’s sleep after this. Tomorrow we strike back.”

  Chapter 8

  Darinda maneuvered her Toyota briskly, if not always safely, through the regular Market Street traffic. Roderick sat beside her, with her enormous shoulder bag wedged in between them. He was dressed in jeans, a crisp plaid shirt, and a pair of leather boots, all with traces of Charlie’s scent clinging to them. Darinda kept stealing glances at him, part of the reason for her less-than-stellar driving. All he needed was a bandanna and a Stetson, and maybe a little stubble. Darinda hid her smile. Except for the moustachioed Charlie, weres rarely went in for facial hair, being hairy enough in their other form. “Gone native already, I see.”

  “These are Charlie’s clothes. I’ve already wrecked enough of my own. Had I known what was waiting for me, I’d have shipped over my wardrobe. They probably would have lost that, too.”

  She snuck another glance his way. He glared out the windshield with narrow-eyed intensity and kept a white-knuckled grip on the door handle. “You slept outside my room last night,” she said.

  “I most certainly did not.”

  “C’mon. I heard your nails scrabbling on the floor when I got up this morning. And the floor right by the door was warm, like a big furry rug had been lying there.” A cab cut her off, and she blasted her horn. Roderick’s death grip on the handle tightened. “Your room is safer than the hall. I warded it for a reason. Why aren’t you wearing the amulet I gave you?”

  “I gave it to Aunt Letty. She needs it more than I do.” His voice was one step up from a growl. “You were frightened last night. Upset. You tried to hide it, but I can tell.” His teeth flashed briefly. It wasn’t a smile. “I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d react this way.”

  “I’m guarding you, not the other way around. If I want to take precautions, you’re supposed to follow them.”

  “You’re pack,” he barked “For the duration, at least. Pack looks out for each other. It’s what we’re famous for.”

  His bitter tone alarmed her. She shot another glance at him. He’d turned his face away from her to glare at the stream of humanity clogging the sidewalks. Or perhaps to hide his expression.

  She didn’t think. She sensed a swell of pain and reached for him automatically. Her hand touched his shoulder. Truth surged into her like a tidal wave.

  He trusted her. Her. The human. The American. The woman. The witch. This proud wolf had put his life into her hands because he had no choice. He was isolated in a strange country overrun with apes, and somebody wanted to kill him. His own family, in all likelihood. His pack. Without a pack, a wolf had nothing, was nothing. All he had was her. And he had chosen trust. She wasn’t certain how to feel about that.

  “Roderick,” she started, “I—”

  He yelped in alarm. Darinda looked out the windshield, just in time to hit the brakes and avert what would have been a nasty rear-ender with a Dodge. She yanked her hand off his shoulder and clamped it back on the wheel.

  Roderick glared at her. She could swear his ears had flattened against his skull. “Do please watch the road.”

  Sage advice. She swallowed hard and concentrated on getting them to South Street in one piece.

  * * * *

  The knife told them little. “It’s had a slicer put on it,” Peri announced after ten minutes’ careful examination. “Offense spell,” she explained to Roderick. “Cuts through magical defenses. That’s how he got through the air spell. I don’t recognize any signature. You?”

  Darinda shook her head. Stormin’ Norman snuggled in her arms, flicking his tongue contentedly. “’Fraid not. I’ll be honest, I was hoping for dark arts. That way we could have narrowed the search.”

  “Dark arts?” Roderick stood behind the counter, as far from the window and Springsteen as Set A Spell’s confines would allow. He and the cat threw occasional snarls at each other across the room. “You mean, like an evil wizard or something?”

  “Along those lines, yes. Death spells are dark-arts related, and most of the dark practitioners hang out in Germantown. They leave specific signatures on their work, too, like a scent. Unfortunately, an offense spell’s pretty generic. All it does is disrupt other magic. Any murder or mayhem that results is only a side effect. Any witch, light or dark, could have spelled this dagger. It’s not going to lead us anywhere.”

  “Well, we know one thing.” Peri drew a few harmless runes in the air with the tip of the blade. Their trails sparkled briefly before they winked out. “Whoever commissioned this has money. Silver daggers don’t just grow on trees.”

  “I never understood the whole silver thing,” Roderick said. “We’re not like the bats. Knives and bullets kill us regardless of the metal involved.”

  “But you’re tougher to kill than a human,” Peri pointed out. “Silver holds magic like nobody’s business. Better than iron or steel. You want to kill a werewolf and make sure he’s dead, you use silver and bless it or spell it. Sort’a like added insurance. No offense or anything, but it looks like somebody with a heavy wallet really really really wants you dead.”

  “Thank you, I’d already reached that conclusion. What’s wrong with the bloody cat now?”

  Springsteen had leaped to his feet. His tail bottled and he hissed out the window. Abruptly he dove off the sill and streaked for the back. Seconds later Charlie entered the shop. He sniffed the air suspiciously. “Is there a cat in here?”

  “Not any more,” Peri said. “Two of you guys are too much for him.”

  Charlie went on sniffing. “Are those my clothes?” he asked Roderick.

  “I’ve a yen for plaid today. Your mum’s filled you in?”

  “Just the basics. So, you’ve got coyotes after you? And you’ve been in Philadelphia how long?”

  “It could be gang related,” Darinda said. “Wolf pack versus coyote pack. We’re inclined to think it’s personal.”

  “Neat trick,” Charlie said, “considering the local coyotes wouldn’t know Rod from Rin Tin Tin.”

  “One of them knows me now,” Roderick said darkly. “A scroungy little mongrel named Alfie. Ring any bells?”

  “Not off the bat. Better give me your statements. Don’t leave anythi
ng out.”

  Darinda and Roderick did so, in detail, correcting and enhancing each other’s testimony. Peri moved to stand as close to the good-looking Charlie as a wolf’s sense of personal space would allow. Springsteen’s sour-tempered yowls from the back condemned them all.

  “How about the humans?” Darinda asked when they’d finished. “Did you get anything out of them?”

  “Are you kidding? No one saw anything, no one knew anything. Without anyone to press charges, we had to let them go. You probably got more than we did.” He half-grinned at Roderick. “Had plenty of witnesses to the ‘naked hunk,’ though. Not one of them could describe your face.”

  “So I’m off the hook for that?” Roderick said dryly. “I suppose that’s something.”

  “Not much.” Charlie looked to Darinda. “You’re sure the humans were taking orders from the were?”

  “It looked that way to me.”

  “And you think they’re watching the house.”

  “They’ve found me twice,” Roderick said. “Not to mention Darinda nearly ran one down in the street. Surveillance does suggest itself.”

  “Mom’s alone up there. Except for you two now.” Charlie growled, his good humor vanishing. “I don’t know all Eugene’s friends. Maybe he knows coyotes. He’s an open-minded guy. I can’t picture Lucy or Emma dating one. If anyone’s ever mentioned this Alfie to me, I don’t remember it. I’ll run him through the system, see if he’s got a record. This, too.” He took an evidence bag from his pocket and deposited the knife into it, careful to touch only the handle and not the silver blade. “Maybe I can find out who crafted it, but don’t hold your breath.”

  “So what’s the big deal with coyotes?” Peri said. “They’re still wolves, right? Just smaller.”

  “They’re skulky, smelly, backstabbing little curs, according to all Mother’s reports,” Roderick said. “Thank Lycaon we don’t have any in England.”

  “They’re also smart, adaptable, don’t mind cities and play well with humans,” Charlie added. “Better than we do, sad to say. Coyotes have been known to hire humans to do their dirty work. But magic? That’s new. That’s scary.”

  Darinda absently stroked Norman’s head spines. “You don’t think this is a turf war?”

  “That’s the easy answer. I’d have bought into it if they hadn’t gone after Rod. He has no ties to Philadelphia. I don’t like the implications.”

  “Yeah,” Peri said. “Three thousand werewolves in Center City alone and they go after the new guy. Way to wreck tourism.”

  “You think this has anything to do with the wedding?” Charlie asked Roderick.

  Roderick’s expression was neutral. “Darinda says no. The Duquesnes have no objection to the match.”

  “Bite it. I guess that would’ve been too simple. Well, I’ll do some nosing around. I can keep this clean of human police, but if a coyote war’s brewing, Big Alex has to be told.” He started for the door.

  Darinda got in his way. Charlie hadn’t been stricken from the list of suspects yet, and he was about to walk out with the dagger, their only physical clue. She used returning Norman to his tank as cover. “Before you go,” she said, “Roderick wants to try dinner with you and your siblings again. Can you make it tonight?” She rested her hand on his forearm.

  Charlie seemed surprised by the contact, but didn’t flinch or snap. As she’d hoped, he was more human-tolerant than most weres. “I think that’s a great idea. In fact, I’ll set it up. Someplace classy. No more fang bars.” Darinda removed her hand before he could shake it off. He nodded to them all and left.

  Peri sighed. “Tell me he’s single.”

  Springsteen yowled at such blasphemy. “All right, Springsteen, I’m coming. Yeesh, what a pain in the butt. ‘Scuze me, you two. Gotta smooth fur.” Peri stomped into the back. A barrage of hisses ensued.

  “Charlie’s clean,” Darinda said. “He’s a good, honest cop, determined to keep the city and were reputations clean. He’s concerned for your safety and especially worried about his mom. If he wants anybody dead, it’s whoever’s threatening his family.”

  “One down.” His mouth stretched in a thin, nasty grin. “You know, I almost hope it’s Eugene. He’s just enough of a git to actually think he can pull this off.”

  “If this wasn’t so serious, I’d think you were enjoying it. The detective stuff, I mean.”

  “All wolves enjoy a good hunt. Bringing down the prey and sinking our fangs into captured flesh. It’s what we live for.”

  That explained the nasty. “And when we catch our, um, prey?”

  “I’ll deal with it. Whether it’s family or not. Especially if it’s family.” His eyes made it clear exactly how. “There’s no need for you to involve yourself in that aspect of it.”

  “Thanks. I guess you know how witches feel about doing deliberate harm.”

  “And you know how we feel when our lives and packs are threatened.” He wasn’t grinning any more. “I’m asking you to lead me to my kill. Can you live what that?”

  Wolf, she thought. They might look like big, shaggy dogs, but they weren’t. They might look like a handsome, sexy man, but they weren’t. If she didn’t remember that every second, she was liable to get her throat ripped out. “If I don’t, you may die, and I’ve sworn to protect you.” She couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’ll help you eliminate suspects. Let’s see where that takes us.”

  “Fair enough.” He drew in a long breath and let it slide out. It ended on a violent sneeze. “If we’re done here, do you mind if we leave? I’ve got quite enough cat up my nostrils.”

  Peri stuck her head in from the back. “I heard that!”

  “I was talking to the cat.”

  Darinda leaned over Norman’s tank to give her dragon a final pat. “I’ll try to get back in a day or so. Looks like I’m having dinner with a pack of wolves tonight.”

  “Group date.” Peri stuck out her pouty lower lip. “You get everything.”

  * * * *

  Darinda suggested both of them stick close to Meadowlands for the afternoon. No sense in courting further trouble. Roderick didn’t care for that. He wanted to try to pick up the trail of the werecoyote and “hunt the bugger down.”

  “If you go, I’ll have to go with you,” Darinda said, “and where does that leave Aunt Letty? I can’t be in two places at once. Anyway, a coyote risking a war with wolves will know how to cover his trail. I don’t think you’re going to find him.”

  Roderick grumbled but acquiesced. While he called Philadelphia Airport and verbally ripped them to shreds over his still-missing luggage, Darinda decided to run a background check. “Aunt Letty, I’m having trouble keeping everyone straight. Do you have a family album or something?”

  Aunt Letty had several, as it turned out, and was as thrilled to share them as any mother would be. She brewed tea for Darinda and beef broth for herself, and the two women settled on the sofa with a thick photo album spread across their laps and three more albums stacked on the coffee table. Roderick stuck his head in briefly, wrinkled his nose, and withdrew. Shortly afterwards Darinda heard the clack of the doggy door.

  Darinda started to get up. “He shouldn’t be out there alone. I know he’ll try to track the coyotes.”

  “There’s nothing to track. I’ve already checked. They smothered their scent in musk. Let him alone, dear. He won’t go beyond the yard. He’s frightfully frustrated just now, poor puppy. Crowd him and he’s liable to snap at you. Now, where would you like to begin?”

  They began at the start of the album. Keeping the players straight, Darinda quickly realized, was going to be a chore and a half. Weres leaned toward huge extended families. The Meadows clan was an offshoot of the Chase, which had lines centuries long stretching back through European history. The Duquesnes were distant relatives, and the three packs mingled on a regular basis. One photo showed over fifty individuals gathered on the sprawling lawn of some massive country estate. And that was just the human-looking
faces. No telling how many of those big canine beasts roving in and out of frame were family members.

  “Have you got any pictures a bit more, well, intimate?” Darinda asked. “More like immediate family.”

  “Certainly, dear.” Aunt Letty flipped pages, chuckling. “Come from a small pack, do you?”

  “I’m afraid so. It’s just me and my brother, and he’s in Chicago. Witches aren’t social by nature.”

  The older woman tsked. “That’s just terrible. How do you survive without family around?”

  “I’ve got Peri, and a lot of good friends.” Well…customers and acquaintances. It hadn’t really hit until just now how non-social she’d been. When was the last time she’d gone on a date? No wonder she’d reacted so strongly to Roderick. “Look at it this way. There’s no line for the bathroom in the morning.”

  “For us either. It’s why we like big yards. I miss having puppies around, but I don’t miss the housebreaking. Here we go.”

  This was a photo Darinda could deal with: a much-younger Letty, a smiling, long-faced man, and five children. The eldest, a gawky boy with Charlie’s features, held up a mangled squirrel and grinned from ear to ear. “Charles’s first kill,” Aunt Letty said proudly. “He didn’t even eat it. He slept with it for a week, until it got too pungent. Pups. They grow so fast.”

  “Uh…yeah. Okay, that’s Charlie, so this must be Eugene. The little one’s Emma. I’m sorry, I can’t remember the other two.”

  “This is Lucy.” Aunt Letty pointed to the dark-haired, rather cool-eyed girl standing close to her father. “The other one’s Lorraine. She lives with her mate’s pack in New Jersey. No litters yet. I’m going to have to nip that girl. All this reminiscing makes me want to hold a puppy in my lap again.”

  She turned the page to another large group shot. Roderick’s face leaped out at Darinda’s eyes. He was about ten years younger here—early twenties, surly, scowling. Her gaze shifted from him almost at once to the two she-wolves he stood with. The girl was in his age range, sleek and deadly-looking as a cobra. That was no smile on her face. The fortyish woman wore a similar shark’s leer. Cold yellow eyes peered out on a world full of prey she considered all hers for the taking. Darinda repressed her shudder just in time. Alpha males, she was coming to believe, couldn’t hold a fang to the alpha females.