The Truth About Night

by Amanda Arista

  “Why?” The question jumped out before I would find a proper place for it in the list currently a line of sugar packets on the table to my right.

  “Piper and I have known each other for a long time.”

  I suspected he could tell by the look on my face that I was going to need more than that.

  He licked only his bottom lip and his thumbs tapped out a beat on the edge of his coffee. “About twenty years ago, there was a war, the Great Shifter War.”

  “I know my history, Professor. That isn’t one of them.”

  “We’ve had over a thousand years of hiding in plain sight, remember? Humans don’t see what they don’t want to see, and frankly, it looked more like an impromptu Woodstock than a war.”

  I leaned back in my chair and trusted that my sensibilities, my instinct honed over the years, would tell me if he was lying. Though part of me knew that he wouldn’t. Not about this.

  “Every culture has its own version of the apocalypse, Ragnarok, if you’re up on your Norse Mythology.”

  I smiled. “I am.”

  “Wanderers are no different. Ours is called The Last War, sounds better in Old Speak. A Demon, Jovan, wanted to jump-start The Last War by starting the Great Shifter War, which according to prophesy would determine the side the Shifters would fight on when The Last War happens. He created a spell that called every Shifter from across the world. I was in university, working on my thesis when I felt the pull.”

  “Pull? Like how?” I asked.

  He licked his lips. “Like a fish hook in my soul, dragging me across the world.”

  That was serious stuff. But I got it, in a way. How many times had I been caught in a story’s net, and followed it to the ends of the Earth, like Captain Ahab?

  MacCallan adjusted in his chair. “But the real prize was Piper. Jovan was using us to draw out her, to consume her power, and create an army of Shifters he could control.”

  I gulped. “But Piper won?”

  “Depends on your definition of won.” He looked down at the coffee. “If it had been an actual war, the two sides would have torn each other part. So she sacrificed herself before that could happen and he tore her apart instead. So entire Shifter nation put her back together, each giving her a piece of our power until she was whole again, and then some. Since then, she has connected us back together as one nation, through her, which makes her our Den Mother.”

  “So she’s the only one of her breed?”

  Rafe released a small smile. “Yeah. The only one of her kind.”

  “So you fought in the war with her?”

  He bit down on his lower lip. Etched between his brows, the story had resurrected a crack in the glib, bookish façade. “I was there that day.”

  Though the story was over, his pain was not. For the first time, I didn’t want to bombard him with questions, I wanted to alleviate that look in his eye. Get my rakish professor back to the banter we were so very good at.

  “And this all happened twenty years ago? I already have a hard time believing you’re old enough to be a professor. You don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

  “Thirty-nine, actually. There are many perks to the shift,” he said leaning back, a coy smirk forming on his face slowly as he returned to the here and now.

  I would have never believed that he was thirty-nine. There was too much youth in his movements, in the gleam in his eye to be older than me. “Can I see your driver’s license?”

  He laughed but pulled his wallet from his back pocket and flipped it open for me to see. Sure enough, he had eleven years on me and nine on Ethan. And he didn’t live in Philly. He lived in Aston. That was nearly an hour drive from here. Tucked in the slots of the leather wallet were also a Neumann university ID and a library card.

  “If you drive so far, does that mean that there isn’t a pack closer to where you live? Or did you just want to stay with Ethan?”

  “I stayed in Piper’s pack. Ethan found me here years later and stayed too.”

  “Because of Emily?” I asked.

  “Mostly because of Emily, but having Piper this close has its advantages.”

  I fiddled with the next sugar packet by my coffee.

  “Next question?” he asked, looking down at the line of accouterments.

  Damn, he was fast. He’d already spotted my record-keeping system.

  “How did you become a Shifter?”

  He looked content and nodded. “I’m a Legacy. My father was a wolf, so I am, and so was Ethan. He passed it on to us.”

  He took a sip of coffee. “Are you single?” he finally asked.

  I glared at him.

  “What? Am I not allowed to ask questions this time?”

  I pressed my lips together. I didn’t particularly appreciate it when my interrogation techniques backfired like this, but I would play, as I had played before.

  “Yes,” I said quickly, and then moved on. “So it’s spread to others like a disease? You used the word communicable before.”

  He smiled. “It takes a special sort of person to take to the shift after bitten. Not all victims who are bitten become Shifters. We don’t even really know what it takes to complete the transformation.” He didn’t give me a minute to squirrel away the information before he jumped into his question. “Are you so dedicated to you work that you don’t have time for a relationship, or is it deeper than that?”

  A twinkle in his eye told me he was trying to press my buttons. Still testing my limits.

  “My last relationship ended almost two years ago because I was quote too morbidly obsessed with the truth end quote.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “He cheated on me when I was on assignment and I caught him in a lie.” I took a sip of my coffee. “That was two questions. Staying warm on a cold night is a pro of being a Shifter. What are the cons?”

  MacCallan took another sip of his coffee. “The high metabolism does get annoying. I could eat three rare steaks during the full moon and still be hungry. The whole hidden life thing, though …” He shook his head. “It really is against our law to tell anyone about this, but hiding who you really are all the time? It’s brutal.”

  The ache of Ethan sat heavy in my stomach. I knew that this conversation should be about werewolves—Correction: Shifters—the string of dead bodies, and possibly what killed my best friend. Ethan’s hiding his true nature from me was feeling less like a betrayal by the minute. Instead, I felt pity. After all, he carried this with him and couldn’t share it. Couldn’t share with his partner in crime.

  He must have had an iron will, to have been able to keep it a secret from me. I was the women who got spontaneous confessions from near strangers. Or it was something more than just an iron will? Did he use some sort of magic to keep it from me? There were too many questions, too many things I didn’t yet understand.

  I turned back to my sugar packets for my next question, needing to guide the conversation back toward solving a crime. “What are the cravings?”

  “I don’t think you want to know.”

  “I don’t scare easily, professor.”

  He took in a deep breath and leaned across the table. “My animal is a wolf, a carnivore, and he craves what every animal craves, and when he’s strong, I’ll get cravings for raw meat, like fresh-from-the-rabbit raw meat.”

  He leaned in further and dropped his voice lower. I leaned in to join him.

  “And sometimes, I have to run and hunt, and be free. I don’t do caged well.”

  “No man does,” I said with a raised eyebrow.

  A smile played on his lips for a moment, then finally cracked through as he sat back in the booth. “You are a unique woman, Merci Lanard.”

  I really liked the way he said my name, the soft way it tickled between my shoulders blades. “Thank you. Your question.”

  He spun his coffee between his fingers. “What do you crave?”

  I finished pouring in two packets of sugar. “Truth, justice, and a lover who doesn
’t leave the seat up.”

  MacCallan laughed, and as he did, that warm roll of fur brushed around me, through me. At least I was sitting down this time. There was a distinct drop in my stomach, but I recovered more quickly than before.

  He had brought up relationships first, but now it was my turn. “How do relationships work for Shifters? How does it work with regular humans?”

  “Only one way. You don’t date people who aren’t Wanderers.” He shrugged and took another sip of his coffee.

  I could see the moment that his question came into mind. He really was too readable. Just like Ethan. “What scars do you have?”

  He was finally catching on to the game. Getting to the real gritty questions, which meant that I could go in for the harder questions as well.

  Never one to back down, I unbuttoned the top of my Henley and pulled the material aside to expose my throat. Down at the base of my neck, just above the collarbone was a scar from a ring of teeth.

  “Serial rapist took a bite out of me.”

  MacCallan’s widened as he stared at the shiny ring on my neck.

  “About a year and a half ago, I was investigating girls who were being taken and attacked, but not killed. I turned myself into bait and ended up finding the bastard,” I said, putting my shirt back and buttoning those two buttons.

  He just sat there, stunned. His blue gaze flicked from my neck to my eyes and back.

  “And you still investigate? You still look into all the dark corners?” he asked softly, when his words came back to him.

  “Evil is still evil, whether it’s supernatural or not. If I can shed a little light in the darkness, then I’ve done my job.”

  MacCallan studied me like I was a textbook. “I’ve asked a few contacts to send me those dusty grimoires. See if I can find a spell that matches the pattern.”

  As tempting as it was to think about him flipping through large books in a tweed jacket, I knew that we didn’t have the time for dusty books and discovery. “We can’t wait. You have to take what we’ve got to Piper.”

  He sat up straight in his chair. “You’re not even supposed to know about this. About us. If I take this to Piper now, the pack could find out you’re involved now; you could be in real jeopardy.”

  “I’m used to being in jeopardy. Hell, I put myself in jeopardy most of the time. This is bigger than me. This isn’t just Ethan anymore, it’s the whole city.”

  He shook his head. “What is it with you and this city?”

  I shrugged. “It’s home. I feel connected to it somehow. I’m a Legacy,” I smiled at MacCallan’s term. “My father worked the news floor and now I work the news floor.”

  He gave me a half smile and nodded. “Okay then. I’ll take it to Piper. See if I can figure out a way to not mention you.”

  “I am totally okay giving up the byline on this one if it keeps me from being executed.”

  I reached down into my messenger bag and gave MacCallan a folder with the pictures of the bodies in them. “Let me know what your Den Mother says?”

  “Of course.”

  It was strange, handing over information. Usually I was taking it, stealing it, but I was willingly trusting him with part of a story. Not that I was trusting him with the originals, but still trusting him to help. For the first time, I was the informant and I really wasn’t sure if I liked being on this side of the table.

  MacCallan finished his coffee and looked down at this watch. “I need to go be a professor. What are your plans for the evening?”

  “I nabbed a few numbers off Tay-Tay’s cell phone. One might be Benny’s new contact info. I’ll check them out tonight.”

  “Do you ever sleep, Merci?”

  I shook my head. “Not often and not very well.”

  I’d spent my night and part of my morning running headlong into a dead end on the numbers in Tay-Tay’s phone. No one was picking up from my cell, my desk phone, Hayne’s desk phone. Those numbers were going to be burned into my brain. I needed to step away from my desk before I broke something, so picking out expensive camera equipment sounded like a good idea. I fiddled with the camera that I’d signed out from the paper, looking through the view-finder and trying to focus on stuff close up and far away. The other staffers in the newsroom probably thought I’d officially gone off the deep end, but I’d discovered that with a decent zoom, I could read the lips of the people standing at the water cooler.

  My cell phone rang. I jumped on it like a cat on a felt mouse. “Lanard here.”

  “Merci, It’s Levi Howard.”

  Why was one of them calling me? After all, my knowledge they even existed was a huge violation of pack rules. Or perhaps this was just a social call on Emily’s behalf. My mind replayed the scene of him changing into a large wolf, and I fought a shiver as I played it casual. “What can I do for you, Mr. Howard?”

  “Piper wants to meet you.”

  My skin prickled at hearing the name. This was it. Maybe if I met her, it would fix the broken record in my brain that kept repeating Ethan’s dying words. I needed to file at least that part of his death. But Rafe had warned of execution for those who trespassed into this world. Did she want to meet me so she could eat me herself? Surely not the Mother Theresa of Shifters.

  “Why?”

  “MacCallan told her that you’d found proof of Warlock activity in the city.”

  Well that was the understatement of the year.

  “The Den Mother is violating pack law, but MacCallan’s somehow convinced her you need to know everything to help us figure out if the Warlocks are back and if they are responsible for Ethan.”

  “Oh?”

  “She can meet with you tomorrow.”

  My schedule was technically free, but I wanted to run this past Rafe first. Make sure this was a friendly call and not some firing squad. “Can you send me the address?”

  “Actually, I’ll drive you. We don’t allow record of her location.”

  Now that was a level of security that I had not encountered before. But if these guys were really in a renewed turf war with a group that sacrificed people with magic, then maybe they needed to be that careful.

  “I will pick you up from your office at two thirty.”

  He disconnected the line without a farewell. Seriously, what was going on in this pack? That was a story I was going to have to get to the bottom of. I dialed Rafe’s phone number and waited. It rolled to voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. Levi just called and said Piper wants to meet me. Call me back.”

  I hung up and tossed the phone on my desk. What else did I need for this meeting? I flipped Ethan’s medallion around in my fingers, thinking. I had fresh batteries, providing I was going to get to even use the recorder. If they wouldn’t let her address be written down, then they probably wouldn’t let me record her. I had all the files I’d collected on the cases and the police record of the latest DB file that Rutherford had absolutely not dropped on the seat across from me as I drank coffee this morning at a predetermined location. I had everything I thought I would need to meet with the mystical mother of werewolves.

  The game was afoot. Or would it be “a paw.” I chuckled at my cleverness. Ethan would have loved that one.

  My cell phone vibrated on my desk. Rafe.

  My hand paused over the phone. Not MacCallan, but Rafe. The mental familiarity wasn’t a good sign.

  “Professor.”

  “I’m giving a test right now, so I’ve got to be quick. Levi called you? You’re meeting her?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon. Am I walking into a trap? What did you say to her?”

  “Piper mentioned you first. Was relieved when I talked to her about it.”

  “Did you talk to her over the phone or face-to-face?”

  “Face-to-face. She knows you’re the one responsible for putting all of this together.”

  I sat down in my chair and lowered my voice. “He’s picking me up at work at two thirty. Can you come? I want a familiar face there.”

  T
here was a slight pause. Only slight and I only noticed because I’d stopped breathing to hear his answer.

  “I will see you there, Miss Lanard.”

  “Professor MacCallan.”

  I ended the call and back in my chair. Suddenly, I was surrounded by his scent as it wafted from my coat. The space behind my ears tingled and I sat up and away from the familiar smell. I didn’t have time for that. I didn’t have time to think about the fact that I had dreamt about that smell instead of blood last night.

  Armed to the teeth with everything I would need for an evening of interviewing, I sat with my messenger bag on my lap and waited on a bench in front of my office building. I wasn’t nervous. I didn’t get nervous. I was only concerned that if I didn’t make a good impression on Piper, I wouldn’t be able to see this through. That I wouldn’t get all the answers I needed, and the list of questions was getting longer by the day.

  I did another double-check of my armory: audio recorder, lock-picking kit, file folder of dead bodies, and a Taser tucked away as well, in case anyone got frisky.

  I was so deep into preparing my questions, into making sure that I had my bag all packed and ready to go, that I didn’t hear Rafe walk up beside me. But I suddenly felt him, that same warm brush of furry energy preceded him. I found him standing at the end of the metal bench, hands tucked in his pockets, tie-less, and with a huge leather book bag hanging off one of his shoulders.

  “Professor MacCallan.”

  “Miss Lanard.” He sat on the far side of the bench and faced the street.

  “So what am I really walking into here?”

  Rafe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbed his hands together. “There will probably be about twenty people at her house. Emily has been staying there pretty much every night. Piper is amazing, warm, kind. I trust her when she says she wanted to bring you in on this.”

  I swallowed. That was a lot of people to consider, and it changed how I saw this going down in my head. I wasn’t used to a crowd; they made me nervous. I worked better one-on-one. “Anything else?”

  Levi pulled up in a huge black SUV before he could answer. I stood and straightened my jacket and slung my bag over my shoulder. Rafe rose beside me as did his energy; I could smell his scent on the wind.