by E. A. Copen
“It was at dinner one night when the eldest Continelli boy, Crux, and Marcus had their back and forth. They fought with words, and then decided to do so with swords at midnight.”
Patsy removed her sunglasses and dabbed at the corner of her eyes with a tissue in her hand. “Four went up: Marcus, Emiko, Alto, and Crux. By morning, Marcus returned bearing Emiko’s body, Crux and Alto were gone.” She sniffled. “The pain in that house…” Patsy closed her eyes and sighed in an almost romantic tone. “Poor girl. She sliced her own neck almost to the bone.”
“What!?”
The vampire leaned in closer to me. “Suicide. Rumor had it that it was engineered, however. That she was given a choice. Either she could end her life, or they would kill her children. Emiko died protecting her family, Agent Black. That was the kind of person she was. Lovely, tragic, fiercely protective. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, not unless someone forced her into it or to protect her babies.”
“Thanks for the info,” I said, standing. I fished my business card out of my pocket and held it out to her. “If you remember anything else, give me a call, would you?”
She nodded and took the card. I scanned the trailer park and settled on one with plastic over the window. “Your friend that had the brick thrown through her window—how long ago did that happen? Did she get any kind of warning?”
“Oh, people have been harassing us for ages.” Patsy gave a dismissive wave. “Death threats, angry letters, burning crosses. The works. It’s been going on for a few months now.”
I flexed my jaw. “Since about the time Tindall threw his hat in for sheriff?”
“How’d you know?”
“Just a theory.” I pointed back to the card. “You tell your people if they have any more trouble like that to contact me. I’m going to get this crap sorted out.”
As I walked away, Patsy’s voice rang out after me. “Wait, agent. You don’t think that’s related to the shooting in Eden, do you? Judah?”
I didn’t answer her. Rage stewed in my center, hot, white, and angry. The conversation I’d had in Marcus’ office earlier came back to me, and I reconsidered my position. I could suddenly understand Sal’s need for vengeance. Even though it wouldn’t bring Chanter back, people full of so much hate couldn’t be allowed to live. As vocal as they’d been about it, they’d already stirred up the whole county. Imagine what they could do if Marcus was right, and they had the power of senators behind them? The Vanguard was trouble, and it was trouble I needed to deal with before it got completely out of hand.
I needed to phone it in.
In my car, I pulled out my cell and considered calling my regional supervisor, Gerry. He was who I should have called first if I needed help. Hell, he should have called me by now and told me he was sending some. Gerry was like that, angry and impulsive. I’d never met him in person, but I imagined a short, bald, red-faced man. He sure did like to yell a lot.
But he wasn’t my only contact with BSI anymore. My last case had thrown me together with Agent Abe Helsinki, an unusual ally, given that he was a half-vampire himself. But he was likable enough. And he’d told me to call if I ever needed to chat. I needed someone to talk to that wasn’t involved. An outsider. Abe could be that, at least, without being judgmental.
I dialed the number he’d left with me and held my phone to my ear.
“Allo?” he said in the form of a greeting after three rings.
“Abe, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”
“Ah. Judah. How are things?” One more thing about Abe. He’s Russian, or at least he grew up there or something. Either way, it gave him an accent and an unusual way of speaking that I found entertaining. The one thing Abe didn’t have was much of a sense of humor. I could hear the irritation in his voice as soon as I called him Abe, which I did purely because I knew he hated it.
“Not so good. There was a shooting this morning. Hunter was caught in the crossfire. I was hoping you could give me some information.”
There was a small sliding noise followed by a click. “I am not in the ideal place to take a call. I am working. Judah, what is this about?”
“The Vanguards of Humanity, Abe. Do you know anything about them?”
He was silent for a long beat and then sighed. “Do not get tangled with that organization again.”
“Again?” I shifted the phone and glanced up at the sky through my windshield. Clouds had rolled in, and given the height of the thunderheads, there might be a storm before day’s end. “What do you mean again?”
“Ohio? Did they not tell you that was the reason for your reassignment?”
Ohio had been my previous post before coming to Paint Rock. In Cleveland, I had arrested a nineteen-year-old college kid for a hate crime. When it came down that he was a state senator’s son, and distantly related to the governor, I was told to cut him loose. Rather than follow a bad order, I grilled the kid harder and pushed him to confess. I handed the DA a foolproof conviction. TV shows don’t have evidence, witnesses, and a confession as good as I had. The kid took a deal and got a few years’ probation instead of jail time.
Meanwhile, his victim was probably still waking up with cold sweats at night, screams caught in her throat. Some said she should be glad to be alive. After what the senator’s kid did to her, she probably wished she were dead.
But I had always assumed I’d just stepped on the wrong toes. I was good at that. The Vanguard hadn’t even come up in my research.
“I didn’t know that kid was a member of the Vanguard,” I answered Abe sheepishly.
“His father was and still is. The organization survives because of powerful men and large sums of money changing hands. I do not see even your persistence dismantling an organization like the Vanguards of Humanity, Judah.”
I swallowed the growing tightness in my throat and decided I shouldn’t give Abe more details. I didn’t know how close he was to BSI brass, but I knew he was closer than me. If the Vanguard had people in the Senate and governor’s mansions, Istaqua’s theory that they were in BSI too was not so far-fetched. I couldn’t let this go up the chain. I had to deal with it. I had to make sure there were no more bodies.
“Judah?”
“I’m fine, Abe. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
On the other end, he grunted. “Trouble never comes alone, my friend. That we are both learning.” He paused and then added, “I must go. Survive until next we meet. Or at least die on your feet, da?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Take care, Abe.”
I hung up and sat in my car for a moment, just thinking. Dusk was coming. In addition to the two or three Vanguard Sal and Istaqua were hunting, Sal was also about to fight Valentino for the leadership of the pack. After losing Chanter, I didn’t think he was in his right mind. Somewhere in all of that, I had to find the connection between Emiko’s ghost and Mia’s sickness, all without letting any more bodies drop.
“No pressure,” I muttered and reached down to turn the car over. I paused when I saw something hanging from my rearview mirror.
A year and a half ago, when I first found out Hunter was a werewolf, Chanter took us both inside of a Way, which is a sort of portal between worlds. While we were in there, he’d given me a small token that I used to find my way out. A golden eagle’s talon bound in hemp rope. Just a day or so before, he’d also given me a raven’s feather. Both now hung from a silver chain slipped behind my rear-view mirror, but I didn’t recall putting them there. In fact, I was sure I’d left them in my closet. When the house was vandalized, I’d seen them both sitting in a puddle of chocolate syrup on the floor.
I let go of the key, sat back in my seat, and looked around. The car had been parked right there in plain sight the whole time I’d been talking to Patsy. No one had come or gone. Not that I’d been watching the car. I should have heard if someone opened the door. But it was hard to tell what things on the reservation are capable of. It felt like a sick joke, one that made my heart ache.
<
br /> For a long moment, I sat and watched the feather dance in the dry air coming from the vents. Then, I reached up and lifted the chain off the mirror, dropping it around my neck. It felt heavier than a small chain like that ought to, but I chalked it up to the weight of the talon. When the talon fell against my chest, I felt the faint, heartbeat thump of magick in it. Before, the feeling might have been comforting. Now all it did was remind me of the good friend I had lost.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I tried to call Sal’s cell twice on my way to Chanter’s. Part of me didn’t want to know if they’d caught the Vanguard behind the attack that morning. The rest of me hoped they had and that the bastards were still suffering.
The sun was still an hour or more from setting when I pulled down the long drive toward Chanter’s place. At the end of the drive, I found Shauna blocking my entry by standing in the middle of the driveway, arms crossed, face serious. She was wearing a white tank top with the name and logo of her gym and a pair of sweats. I stopped the car and waited for her to come around the side before I rolled the window down.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said.
“I’m here to support Sal.”
She frowned at me. “I won’t turn you away now that you’re here, especially since how this goes will affect your son’s place in the pack.” She turned her head and looked up the driveway. “You know that if Valentino wins, Hunter is out?”
“I’ll deal with that as it comes.”
She nodded. “You know, maybe it’s a good thing you are here after all to back him up, even if you are human. If you two were officially mated, it would be better, but you’re something at least.”
When I gave her a blank look, she continued, “Anything that makes Sal look weak helps Valentino right now. The fact that Sal doesn’t have a mate is a big problem. A pack is traditionally led by a pair. Traditionalists would have demanded Sal give up his position as Chanter’s second the minute he chose Zoe over another wolf, and he might have tossed him out altogether when the two of them split.” She shook her head. “Guess it’s a good thing Chanter wasn’t much of a traditionalist. I don’t like the idea of Valentino being my alpha.”
That was the most I’d ever heard Shauna speak at once. She was being surprisingly open with me, and I didn’t know how to take it. Maybe she was just worried about Sal.
“Turn off your car and park it here,” she instructed. “You and I need to talk.”
I did as she asked and got out of my car slowly. “What’s this about, Shauna?”
She crossed her arms, which only served to emphasize her biceps and chest muscles. “You were made privy to a lot of our secrets for an outsider while our alpha lived. I don’t know what he saw in you or what Daphne and Sal see in you. I trust Daphne and Sal to be good judges of character. That’s the only reason I’m telling you this.” Shauna looked one way, then the other, and lowered her voice an octave. “I am very worried about Sal.”
“So am I,” I said, nodding. “And that’s why I came out. He hasn’t been himself lately.”
“He’s in pain. To him, it feels as if the whole world is lost, and he’s suddenly been thrown into a strong current. The mate and pack bonds are a lifeline, a sort of net that keep us from losing ourselves to the intoxication of the Change. If the wolf is put in charge, you must understand that it lives by survival instinct. Hunt. Kill. Protect.” She sighed and rubbed the side of her head. “You didn’t know Sal before Zoe. I only knew him a brief time before that, but even though she’s always been a vindictive, self-centered bitch, having that bond and having the alpha around mellowed him out a lot. I mean, he used to be an intense guy. Scary guy. I have nothing but respect for Sal, but I liked the new, easy-going Sal a lot better.”
“You’re afraid he might lose control completely.”
Shauna nodded. “Chanter kept him level after Zoe. If he kills Valentino—and in his state, he might before Ed or I can stop him—the pack will shatter. You can’t let him kill Valentino when he’s like this. He won’t come back from it.”
“I don’t know what you think I can do about it, Shauna,” I said, leaning against the side of my car. “I’m just a human, remember?” There was an edge in my voice that I couldn’t keep out.
The pack was always reminding me that it wasn’t my business to be involved in pack affairs. I figured a dominance fight between the two top werewolves in the pack as about as pack as an event got. Intervening would make the whole thing void. Everyone there would hate me for it.
“You are his human,” she reminded me. “And he considers you as important as any of the rest of us when he isn’t fighting the wolf so hard. You might not be a wolf, but Sal considers you to be pack, and would protect you with all the same fierceness. There may be no mate bond but he listens to you.”
I turned away from her, knowing she was right. If one of the pack stepped in, he would lose a lot of face accepting their intervention. As an outsider, I could step in without making him look weak, especially if I forced the issue. The price I would pay would be accusations and mean looks from Nina and Valentino for the rest of my time in Paint Rock. They might even take their frustrations out on Hunter, but they wouldn’t kill him for it.
“What does this fight entail?” I asked, turning back to her.
“You’ll see. It’ll be a while before we finish preparations. I thought maybe you’d like to go look around in the house. The rest of us have already been through the place.” I looked at her curiously, so she added, “It’s a traditional way of mourning, viewing the deceased’s possessions.”
Shauna walked away. I looked up at the weary house of stone and treated wood baking in the late afternoon sun. Every memory hit me all at once, all the late evenings spent on his porch or in the backyard. We talked about cases, about Hunter, what to expect in a world that would never understand him. And we’d laughed. Chanter had been a very serious person most of the time, but his laugh was infectious. My chest felt tight at the memory of it.
I realized I was gripping the talon I wore around my neck and rubbing the rough edge of the feather with my thumb. I let my hand drop to the side. Maybe Chanter left some writings or information in his home, Marcus had suggested when we spoke of ghost sickness. I’d come out to the house early with the intention of searching the place just in case. Now that I’d been given permission, I almost didn’t want to go inside. It wasn’t dread that made me hesitate. It was respect. This was Chanter’s place. Going through his things without his permission felt wrong. But he was dead. I wouldn’t be getting his permission.
I trudged wearily up the short set of stairs and tugged open the screen door. The familiar scent of Chanter’s cigarettes and spicy cooking drifted out to meet me. It had probably been days since he’d cooked, even longer since he’d smoked in that entryway, but the house had soaked up the smells. He’d left a half-finished cup of water on the counter next to a bottle of prescription-strength painkillers. I picked up the bottle, which had been filled almost three months ago. It still looked mostly full. He must have been in a lot of pain to bring it out that morning. I knew Chanter eschewed modern medicine.
I won’t find any answers here, I thought, putting the bottle back down. I need to find where he kept his notes on magick and spells.
As I was thinking that, a floorboard creaked down the hall. My head snapped up, and my brain went on high alert. It wasn’t inconceivable that another member of the pack was in the house, but Shauna hadn’t mentioned anyone. I hadn’t sensed anyone either.
I came around the kitchen counter as slow and quiet as possible and headed down the darkened hallway. If there was another werewolf in there, I didn’t want to startle them, but on the off chance that it was someone with more sinister intentions, I still wanted to catch them.
The first door was to the bathroom. I pushed it open, checked inside and behind the door. Nothing. I moved to the second door and put my hand on the doorknob. There was a scraping sound down the hall, so I abandon
ed the thought of checking the first bedroom in favor of the second. I rested my fingers lightly on the doorknob and waited, my ear pressed against the door. Silence on the other side.
After counting to three, I turned the knob and pushed open the door on a bedroom I’d never been in before. I’d spent several nights at Chanter’s with Leo and Hunter while the rest of them went on a hunt, but I’d always either slept on the sofa or in the spare bedroom. This one belonged to Chanter. Like most werewolves, he was fiercely protective of his private spaces.
There was a queen-sized bed with a log headboard in the center of the room. Two dressers stood off to the left of the door lined with photos and knick-knacks. The wall displayed all kinds of things from deer antlers to feather fans. There was a pile of clothes in one corner that probably still needed to be washed, and the bed was unmade.
I was about to turn around and go out when I saw an envelope with my name on it sticking out from under his bed. Not Judah Black. Chanter had an envelope bearing my real name. An icy panic ran down my spine. Real names had a lot of power in the world of magick. For that reason, and to protect their families, whenever new agents were accepted into the academy, they adopted a new identity. I had been Judah Black for over a decade, and had only heard my real name spoken once or twice in that time. Yet there it was, written in shaky handwriting on a white envelope and tossed down beside the bed as if it were nothing of consequence.
Knowing I couldn’t leave it there for just anyone to find, I stepped into the room and knelt to grab the envelope.
I was still on my knees when the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. The air around me dropped several degrees, and I shivered. As much as I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. I stood and scanned the room slowly, looking for any tiny change in the place’s energy. My hand instinctively went to the eagle talon I wore around my neck as if it could somehow protect me.