by C. T. Adams
She nodded again, even though rattlesnakes didn’t worry her nearly as much as the alternative. Oh, VII he taking along a shotgun all right, but it’s going to be loaded with silver shot.
IT WAS AFTER six by the time Cara finished a series of phone calls to game and cattle ranches around the region. Damned if there hadn’t been a rash of disappearing animal occurrences, from cows and ranched whitetails to goats and even tagged exotics—elk and axis deer. But there hadn’t been enough at any one location for people to put in a report. A call to the state park over at Devil’s Sinkhole revealed that camper disturbance reports of feral hogs was way down this year… to the happy relief of the rangers. Her question of, “When did you start to notice?” showed that everything seemed to have started around March.
Why March? She tapped her pen on the yellow notepad in front of her, and took another sip of wretched orange soda… the last thing available in the machine. She really need to talk to someone about getting some decent selections in the break room, or at least getting it stocked more often.
Was it just sheer chance that a flock of birds had happened on her county during some sort of weird Sazi spring migration, or was there more to it? Did Sazi birds even migrate? She added a note to her list—Ask Will about migration and food. Just from looking at the number of missing animals, even if she counted some as escaped or natural deaths, there were way too many for such a short time. Her own pack only downed one or two deer a month on the moon. But the animals missing counted in the dozens! And she’d only called five or six ranches south of town.
Her phone rang and she reached out to answer it absently, going so far as to put the receiver to her ear before realizing it was her cell phone. She shook her head and tried to focus as she opened it and answered. “Sheriff Salinas.”
The voice started her heart pumping and she felt a flush rise into her cheeks. “Um, hi. It’s Adam. Did Lucas talk to you today… um, that is, again!”
Shit. So, he knew she’d stopped by and talked to him. Well, that made sense, she supposed. But it didn’t help the churning in her stomach. “About that… I really want you to understand why—”
He interrupted hurriedly. “It’s okay. Really. You don’t have to explain. I found out when I stopped by to ask Lucas the same thing.”
Oh. She didn’t know quite how she felt about that. Did he have different reasons? Did he not like her pack or… “It’s just that I didn’t think I was being—”
He completed the sentence, with the exact words she was going to use. “Objective enough. Yeah. Me, too. Some days it sucks being a pack leader.” A sad sort of chuckle found its way past the light static on the cell. “So, anyway… did Lucas get hold of you before he left?”
Left? “Lucas is gone? Why? What happened?”
“Yeah, that’s why I thought I’d call. When you said how busy you were going to be… and, well… it’s not the sort of thing you leave a message about. There’s trouble back home—back in my home, Minneapolis. Lucas sent in a couple of other agents, one who has hindsight, to find out why I was sent down here. Apparently, you were supposed to kill me.”
She felt her eyebrows raise until her forehead skin wrinkled tight. “I was? What on earth for? I didn’t even know you.”
“That was the point. I guess Josef expected that you’d react like he would when a strange wolf appeared in your territory without permission. But when the other agents showed up… do you remember Bobby Mbutu? Did you ever meet him?”
She nodded, still in a little shock about the idea that someone would think she’d kill another Sazi for just driving through town without calling first. Then she remembered he couldn’t see the nod and blurted out a few sentences with a breathless quality. “The chemist? Sure. Agent Mbutu is one of the instructors at the academy. He nearly broke my ribs when he wrapped around me after I miscalculated him during sparring. But it’s hard to watch both ends of a twenty foot python. He took up most of the damned ring!” She stopped abruptly. Why the hell was she babbling like this? It wasn’t like her. “Oh… sorry. Didn’t mean to change the subject. So anyway, what happened?”
He didn’t even seem to notice. His voice sounded tired; weary, filled with no small amount of anger and shock. “All I’ve got is bits and pieces, but from calling and talking to Mom and David… that’s my younger brother…. Bobby and Tony, the agent with hindsight, showed up and Josef declared war—without any provocation at all. Like he knew they were coming or something. Josef used the pack binding to force our lesser wolves to attack the agents when they walked in headquarters. I don’t know what the hell he was thinking! I mean, Bobby might spend most of his days in a lab coat looking into microscopes, but he’s no slouch in a battle, and I guess this new guy is a hell of a fighter.”
“My God!” Her voice conveyed all the horror that had instantly chilled her blood. A pack leader openly attacking Wolven agents?! “Is anyone—” She couldn’t even complete the thought. How could someone not be dead in that scenario?
Adam’s voice took on a sad, soft quality. “Yeah. Three of our pack members, including Vivian’s younger sister and our omega. I guess a healer had to be brought in for Bobby’s partner, Tony. He managed to take down Josef, but got pretty messed up in the process. Lucas didn’t seem too concerned about him, though. Said he’s been through worse. But Lucas took the first flight out, about two o’clock, with Viv. The whole pack is in shock and I’ve got to get back. I know we were supposed to—” His voice sounded unsure suddenly, and she knew why.
“Oh! No, of course you have to go back. I mean, your pack leader is dead and you’re the Second—”
“No, no! Josef isn’t dead… at least not yet. Tony took him down with gunfire, but Lucas specifically ordered him not to be killed, so he just wounded him—but I guess it was one hell of a wounding, because Josef is still critical and he normally heals really fast. The healer had to put him under to remove all the silver bullets so they didn’t poison him. Bobby told her to keep him that way until Lucas arrived. But it’s a pretty fair bet what’s going to happen, don’tcha know. So—” There was open air for a long moment, enough that she wondered if he was going to continue. She’d just opened her mouth to fill the void when he spoke again. “I guess I need to know from you whether I should stay there.”
Whether he should stay—A buzzing filled her head like a hive of angry bees, and she couldn’t quite pull her thoughts together. “I… that is—”
“Look, you don’t have to answer now. I have to leave my truck at the airport in San Antonio anyway, so I have to come back at least for that. But the move is still on. I asked Lucas about that specifically. I have no idea what the fallout is going to be from this. There are going to be plenty of people up there who’ll blame me for everything that happened today.” He paused and let out a growl of frustration before she could ask the obvious question. “It’s a long story why, but trust me. And with everything happening down here with the birds and… oh! Before I forget, Lucas stopped by your sister’s house and Ziri’s going to stay with them until he can get back here.”
“With Rosa?” She stood up in a rush, fast enough that her chair tipped over and hit the wall. Her first instinct screamed no! It was too dangerous. Her family could be a target. “Of all the stupid… chingado! What was he thinking?”
Adam’s voice filled with chagrin and she could almost see him wince in her mind from the crashing sound. “Um, I’m afraid that’s my fault. I suggested it. I know we didn’t talk about it first, but I thought that since Gloria is the same age… and hey, Ziri can speak a little English now! Lucas taught her. He couldn’t just leave her alone and… well, someone has to protect her until we find out more about the attack.” His voice softened and filled with something close to pride. “You did a pretty good job protecting her before, after all.”
Cara let out a small snarl over the line as she turned around to stand the chair back up. She had to replace one of the casters that had fallen out of the guide before sittin
g down again. He was trying to manipulate her. The annoying part was he was succeeding. She started taking slow, deep breaths while she drummed her fingers on the chair arm and considered the alternatives. Adam didn’t interrupt.
Her reply, when it finally came, was filled with both exasperation and resignation. “Okay, fine. I guess there’s no fixing it until he gets back. But I really wish he would have tried harder to reach me. I don’t have a number for him and I found out a bunch of information about our feathered friends.”
His voice filled with sudden interest, combined with no small amount of relief. “Yeah? Well, I’ll be seeing him tomorrow around dinnertime. I don’t have his number either, but is it something I can pass along? I could call you and tell you how he wants you to proceed, or have him call you… if you’d rather.”
Did she want Adam to call—to keep in contact? She realized she did and, after all, she needed to report the information to someone. She fought to keep a smile off her face and wasn’t sure if she succeeded in keeping it out of her voice. “Sure. That makes sense.” She told him everything—from the meeting with Jeff to the calls to the ranches. “And it’s not like anyone is going to miss the feral hogs. They get Massive…. I’ve seen ’em as big as three hundred pounds, and the males can get really aggressive. But that’s a lot of meat, just to feed three birds. It got me to wondering, ya know. So I figured the next step would be to go out the property and poke around a little. I’ll see if Will can go with me, just to be safe and then we’ll—”
“I want to see you.”
“—head on over to the park and talk with the rang… what did you say?” It had taken a moment for his words, soft and quiet, to sink in.
“I want to see you. Before I leave tomorrow. It’s just… even if it’s just some coffee at the donut shop—if that’s okay.” Something threaded through the words, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
She suddenly wished he was face to face, so she could see his expression… catch his scent She found herself replying before she even realized it. “Okay. So, what time’s your flight?”
“Nine thirty. I figure an hour to get through security and two hours to get there… at least according to the motel manager. So, how about five thirty? Is anything open that early?”
She chuckled lightly. “You picked right. Just the donut shop. It’s open at five. I’d say we should make it five straight up, since you’ll be hitting rush hour in San Antonio. You might need a little extra time on the road.”
“Good. Okay then, it’s a date.” She didn’t correct the term and wondered if he noticed. He paused long enough that he just might have. “Good work on the investigation, by the way. I can see why they tapped you for your post.”
That made her smile. Not many people commented on her job. It was nice to hear from time to time, especially from someone who knew the difference. “Thanks.”
“Go home and get some sleep, Carita. Sweet dreams.” She didn’t have time to do anything other than pick up her dropped jaw from the name before he hung up the phone.
Yeah, I’m pretty positive my dreams tonight are going to be at least interesting.
If she ever made it to bed, that is.
A WHITE PANEL van was parked at the entrance to the ranch, the running diesel engine causing puffs of black smoke to drift through her headlights before disappearing into the darkness. The painted banner on the side read, Santa Helena Fine Furnishings.
I could have sworn Tio Luis was going to drop off the table tomorrow. God, would this day never end?
She got out of the car and walked over to the truck. The man inside rolled down his window as she approached, and the scent inside made her mouth water. He must have just had dinner. “Is there any chance we can do this tomorrow, Tio Luis? It’s been a really long day.” Technically, he wasn’t her uncle, but Paco’s older brother, so her brother-in-law. But he’d always been so much older—even his children were older than her. And she loved him just like an uncle. He’d always been there for her, giving her all the guidance that her Papi would have if he’d lived closer. He wore the gray in his hair and the lines on his dark face proudly. He wasn’t alphic and was starting to show his age.
He stared at her critically for a moment. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you, mija?”
She shrugged. “I had some chips and a soda at the office. I’ll be fine. I’m just really tired and want to get to bed.”
Luis held up a small white container printed with Chinese symbols. The heavenly scent of fried rice, spiced beef, and vegetables made her stomach growl enough to be heard over the engine.
“Yeah, you’ll be fine. That’s what you always say. Good thing I know you well enough to have brought enough for two.” He smiled and winked at her and it made her laugh.
“I’ll get the gate.”
It only took a few moments for them to move in the new coffee table, the final piece in the set she’d been buying for close to a year. She stepped back to admire the whole set. “It really does look as awesome as it did in your showroom.”
He was busily plumping cushions and adjusting pillows as though it were still in the showroom, and then ran a slow hand over the back of the couch. Every piece of furniture he got into his store was babied until it made it to the right home. She tried to remember how many sales he’d turned down during her life, fearing the furniture wouldn’t be treated properly. It was as though he was running a shelter for furniture instead of animals.
“You need to make sure you oil the table, mija. This dry climate is murder on good hardwood. This doesn’t have—”
“Varnish on it,” she completed. “Yeah, I know. Just paste wax. I just oiled the end tables last week, Tio Luis. You haven’t let me forget since I brought in the first payment.”
He smiled finally and sat down, patting the cushion next to him, and opened one of the containers next to the plates she’d brought from the kitchen. The next hour was filled with eating terrific food and talking about silly things—from the antics of his grandchildren to Prima Carmen’s latest diet and the plans for his float in the Cactus Days parade next month.
He shook his head and swallowed another bite of lo mein noodles. “Psh! Cactus Days! The city council has gotten way too politically correct. There’s not a thing wrong with calling it Tequila Days, just like it’s been for the last two centuries.”
She shrugged. “Well, I guess they don’t want to promote drinking now that they’re going in with the other counties to advertise in the travel magazines. And it is the cactus that founded the town.”
“Yeah. The blue agave cactus! You know, the one that makes… tequila. Santa Helena was for years the only place this side of the Mexican border that grew all the makings of top-notch tequila.”
“Until the federales burned it all up during prohibition in the ’30s. I know. And then… no more tequila. There’s only the one big one left in the town square, so why bring it up? I think the name change isn’t such a bad thing. It cut way down on the DWIs at the carnival last year. Nobody felt compelled to live up to the heritage.”
He threw down another shot of pale sapphire liquor and then brought a forkful of rice halfway to his mouth. His scent turned into a confusing mix that clashed with the spices in the food. “You can’t hide from your heritage, Cara. You shouldn’t ever try to run from your beginnings—nor be ashamed of them. You have to hold up your head with pride and stare down those who would take it from you. People here forget that sometimes, and it makes me sad. I’m just thankful that you’ve always run this pack with pride. I heard you talking with Raul the other day, telling him the stories of how our people came to be here and how we’ve always protected the people of Santa Helena. How when the federales wanted to burn down the distillery—the whole town, the Sazi chased them off. You’ve never forgot our beginnings, mija, and that’s good.” He glanced at the small altar in the corner and dipped his head. “Your madre is proud of you, just as we are. I know she looks down and smiles for you not chang
ing our ways and diluting who we are.” He took the bite and chewed, nodding with fervent eyes that told his pride as much as his scent did.
Diluting, Was she about to do just that? Was there any way to make a bunch of timber wolves—Adam and his people—familia, without betraying all the red wolf Sazi who had come before her? She threw back another shot of tequila, closed her eyes, and tried not to think about anything at all.
But the image of Adam’s strong jaw and broad chest wouldn’t be banished. The vivid blue eyes haunted her long after she closed the door behind her uncle and chased her into her dreams.
Chapter 16
ADAM LEANED BACK in the plane seat, his thoughts too muddled to even be bothered by the acceleration as the jet took off, right on time. He hoped his bags made it onto the cart he’d watched being loaded, since he’d dived through the door at the last second after sprinting out of security.
While San Antonio’s version of rush hour was laughable compared to home, he hadn’t exactly gotten started on time. It was a good thing they’d set an earlier time to meet, or he would have missed the plane altogether.
A small smile crossed his lips. It was worth it, though.
The cheerful Vietnamese couple who ran the donut shop had ignored them totally as they sat at the back table and talked about… things. He’d just planned on talking about his people moving down, but it had evolved into a real talk—about morals and values and reasons for doing things. Even though they’d had to use a lot of euphemisms and roundabout terms, the information still came through. He’d learned why she left the Wolven academy and couldn’t really blame her. Not everyone was cut out to handle the executioner side of the job. You can’t force a person, even a Sazi, into killing when they believe it’s the wrong choice, but Fiona had tried. One hide strip was imposed for refusing, and the other because Cara had taken her complaint to the Chief Justice, instead of going through proper channels. Of course, he’d sided with the Wolven chief because agents have to be able to take that last step, whether or not they like it.