Moon Stalked

by Aimee Easterling

  “Just like Serena fell from the second-story landing.” I rubbed my pelt. “But our killer didn’t drop Clarence over that same landing when he had the chance.”

  The hunt had subdued Slim, but a spark of his former fan fervor glinted back to life as he suggested: “Maybe it’s like The Case of the Spotless Dalmatians....”

  His voice trailed off as the sleek sports car in front of us pulled into an alley clearly intended for cleaning staff and garbage trucks. Mr. Smythewhite’s vehicle would stick out like a sore thumb come morning. Now, it purred into darkness then disappeared.

  The murderer had chosen his prey. We couldn’t risk alerting him to our presence.

  “Drive on,” I murmured so quietly I wasn’t sure Slim would even hear me. It was time to stash our vehicle and derail Mr. Smythewhite’s upcoming homicide.

  Chapter 23

  “You need to stay outside unless I call you.”

  “What? No!” The driver-side door slammed so hard it banged like a shot through the night. Good thing Mr. Smythewhite was busy picking the lock on the house’s back door and appeared not to have heard.

  Still, we had very little time left for this discussion. How long would it take to track down whichever victim had been chosen? Was there a ritual that needed to be performed to channel death energy through Bastion’s pelt?

  I couldn’t be sure. So I could only assume that we had no time left to lose.

  “Yes.” I reached up to grab Slim’s shoulders before he could hare off after our suspect. Then I channeled Grace and went directly for Slim’s weakest spot. “This isn’t just any case. Bastion’s life depends on it.”

  Slim’s eyes fell. He scuffed the toe of one shoe against the pavement. “I know.” His voice was subdued. “But I want to help....”

  Between Luke’s attempt at managing the situation and Slim’s current behavior, all I could think was: Save me from men and their hero complexes.

  Aloud, I kept my tone more cordial. “And you will help. You said you have a personal contact at the police station. Have their number ready. I’ll let you know when to call. In the meantime, make sure nobody comes out and drives away.”

  This wasn’t exactly a make-work job either. Although not as large as the Smythewhite residence, the house before us boasted multiple doors and dozens of windows. In fact, I intended to use one of the latter for my own entrance....

  “Okay, but...” Slim was still talking when I lit off after Mr. Smythewhite. But his voice had faded by the time I veered left and out of sight.

  The east wall of the home was stone, impenetrable. But the windows were breakable. And one didn’t even need to be broken. All I had to do was shove in the screen and hoist myself inside.

  Rolling onto a deep-pile carpet, I lay still for a moment and listened to the heartbeat of the residence. Closest and most obvious was the tap of hard-soled shoes against tiles. They came closer, closer...then continued down the hall without pausing.

  The rustle-thud of my entrance hadn’t alerted my prey.

  On the other hand, I couldn’t continue counting on luck to shield me. Not when Bastion’s pelt might enhance its possessor’s hearing while also boosting his speed and stamina. Which meant....

  I stripped right there in the library, discarding my clothes into a heap then wrapping my pelt across my back and underneath my arms. It was time to fight fire with fire. The necessity of keeping my woelfin nature hidden meant nothing when hunting the stealer of my family’s skins.

  The transformation took only a moment. But by the time I straightened, ears perked to discover which direction Mr. Smythewhite had gone in, new footfalls had emerged from the direction of the back door.

  I wanted to believe the murderer had forgotten something near his entrance point. But these shoes squeaked like sneakers while my flared nostrils caught the astringent bite of manly perfume. The combination pointed in one direction only—to Slim.

  A flashlight bounced off the open door and into my eyes. But these footsteps, like the others, didn’t hesitate.

  I sighed. My temporary partner had ignored my orders and come in after me. And, from a woelfin standpoint, he wasn’t even being stealthy about it.

  This takedown was now twice as complicated as it had originally been.

  I GLANCED BACK AT MY clothes and the weapons piled atop them. Debated for one split second only, then accepted that I’d already made my choice.

  If Slim saw me in wolf skin, so be it. What mattered was finding Bastion’s pelt.

  Lupine eyes made that task easier. Lupine paws were silent as I slipped out of the library and into the hall.

  The flashlight veered left and right, and I pressed myself into an indentation that housed a statue until the beam retreated. Then, skimming the shadows, I traveled far faster than Slim could along Mr. Smythewhite’s scent path.

  Our murderer knew this house. Either that or his eyes were lupine sensitive. Because I’d seen no flicker of a flashlight until Slim disregarded my orders, yet the scent of shoe polish led directly down the hall and up the stairs.

  At the top, I paused as the murmur of a female voice danced toward me. A male voice chuckled. The musk of mutual attraction lay slick upon my tongue.

  Mr. Smythewhite was about to interrupt a couple enjoying a night at home...or was he?

  Because the second-floor hallway was empty. No one lingered here, preparing to murder the inhabitants. Instead, the trail I’d been following led directly to the closed door behind which voices tasted and teased.

  I could only assume Mr. Smythewhite was inside already. I backpedaled, whining despite myself.

  In my mind’s eye, I replayed how easily he’d entered the residence. Had he actually picked the lock, or had he possessed a key?

  Mr. Smythewhite had strode through dark halls as if he owned the place. And, now, a resident had willingly welcomed him in.

  At least she sounded willing. The wet click of sucking was followed by a feminine moan of pleasure. I danced back another meter, trying to decide whether to stay or to go.

  Was it possible that Mr. Smythewhite planned to get some nookie then kill the woman he was pleasuring so expertly? Possible but unlikely. Especially since I smelled no fur other than my own in this household. Sensed nothing to suggest Bastion’s pelt was on the premises or had ever been here.

  Which meant Mr. Smythewhite planned to hunt later and elsewhere. He wouldn’t, though, if he knew we were tailing him now....

  I leapt stairs three at a time on the way down, coming so close to Slim at the bottom that my tail grazed his pants leg. Luckily, he was peering in the opposite direction, so I made it back to the library without being seen.

  Skin off. Clothes on. The process was infuriatingly slow this evening. My pelt clung to my back, not wanting to end our run prematurely.

  “I know Bastion needs more wolf energy. But if we find his pelt, it won’t matter.”

  And now I was arguing with myself. Still, it worked.

  The fur popped free, and I immediately began yanking on clothes, stuffing underwear and socks into pockets. There wasn’t time to belt on weapons’ harnesses, so I tucked the stun gun and dagger under my left armpit, held the pistol in my right hand.

  “Slim, it’s time to go.”

  I wasn’t particularly concerned about speaking loudly now that I understood Mr. Smythewhite was otherwise occupied. From the sound of things as I’d sprinted for my clothes, matters upstairs were progressing rapidly. I could have yelled my order and the pair of them were unlikely to hear.

  So, when Slim didn’t answer the first time, I raised my voice. “Slim, I mean it. I know you’re in here. Get your butt....”

  From upstairs came an ear-piercing female scream.

  Chapter 24

  Human feet couldn’t make the journey up the stairs as quickly as wolf feet had fled down them. So I caught dribs and drabs of shouted conversation as I ran.

  “Get your hands off her!” That was Slim, broadcasting his voice so l
oudly he was likely to wake the neighbors.

  Mr. Smythewhite’s answer was quieter and imbued with amusement. “Now, see here. Your daughter’s an adult and can make her own decisions....”

  “That’s not my father!” The terror in the young woman’s voice had been replaced by exasperation. “Do I look like I share even one chromosome with this vagrant?”

  Okay. So nobody was dying. This was a farce, not a murder. Slim would likely extricate himself soon.

  I slowed from a sprint to a jog, pausing when my foot hit something hard in the middle of the floor. The palm-sized rectangle skittered sideways while buzzing with the same alert I’d been hearing all evening.

  Slim’s phone. Had it fallen out of his pocket while he stalked what he thought was a murderer? Did its reason for being on the ground even matter?

  I reached down to pick it up.

  “You’re sure he’s not hurting you?” Slim, bless his heart, was chivalrous even in the face of what I suspected was two unclothed and very unhappy strangers.

  The woman’s bare feet hit the floor with a smack of frustration. “I’m calling the police.”

  “You can’t,” Mr. Smythewhite growled, his feet thumping down ten times louder. “My wife...”

  “You’re married?” The female voice rose an entire octave, and now Slim finally made his retreat.

  In the hallway, our eyes met for one split second. His brows drew together as he caught sight of the phone in my hand.

  He patted his pocket. Took a single step toward me. I could almost see what little trust I’d gained by being Bastion’s partner burning off like fog at dawn.

  But his distrust was secondary to the image I’d found waiting on the screen for him. The followup to the earlier amber alert.

  A girl had died only an hour ago. She’d been strangled in the forest beneath a cliff the locals called Lover’s Leap.

  She was surrounded by dolls and plastic animals. And around her mottled throat hung a very familiar golden chain.

  THE TIMELINE MADE NO sense. Well, it made no sense if Mr. Smythewhite was indeed the murderer.

  Because, one hour ago, he’d been in his office. We were sure of that. Grace had gotten through to him on his landline then Slim and I had watched the door until he emerged

  Meanwhile, the stealer of Bastion’s pelt had been busy making another kill. The girl from the forest. The dancer with dolls. The sweetness I’d chosen not to intrude upon.

  The child hadn’t touched me, but she had worn my necklace. Apparently that was enough contact to draw the killer in.

  I took a step toward Slim, grabbing his sleeve to get his feet moving. “We have to go. Now.”

  His jaw clenched, but he obeyed me. We were halfway to the stairs when I glanced back.

  A red-haired harridan flew out of her room with her phone raised like a weapon. The moment our eyes met, the device in her hand clicked.

  She’d taken my picture. That wasn’t good.

  But the overhead lights weren’t on in the hallway. Cell-phone photos were so-so in dim spaces. Chances were good she hadn’t gotten anything recognizable....

  Then the young woman faltered. “Your eyes....”

  I hadn’t bothered to bring along a pair of Grace’s contact lenses. Which meant my irises would glow faintly yellow in the low light streaming out of her bedroom. Their amber color was never more evident than in the half dark.

  The redhead’s phone clicked again. Slim was wisely facing in the opposite direction. But each photo of my face meant I was less likely to keep sliding under the radar.

  In the distance, a siren moaned.

  Now Slim was the one to drag me forward. His hand grabbed my wrist, skin touching skin. “Honor, get moving.”

  I closed the eyes that had betrayed me. Winced at the reveal of my first name. How much more would we tell this angry woman? That I was a woelfin? Perhaps we should shout out Luke’s address while we were on a revelatory roll?

  Then we were running. Slim first with me tumbling along after him. I almost pushed him down the stairs, actually, when my speed exceeded his own.

  Instead, I grabbed his arm and pulled him erect again. I shouldn’t touch him. But we’d already made that mistake earlier.

  And Slim’s safety paled in the face of knowledge that the stealer of Bastion’s pelt had struck a mere hour ago. If we worked fast, we might manage to catch the murderer before he struck again.

  Chapter 25

  We didn’t work fast though. In fact, we didn’t work as a unit at all.

  Instead, Slim dug in his heels. Well, not literally. We were in his car, making turns in random directions but always away from the ear-piercing sirens.

  So the heel-digging was metaphorical. Still, unlike Luke, he proved impossible to budge.

  “I’m not taking you to a crime scene.”

  “Slim. I understand where you’re coming from. You don’t want to be seen with me. But the worst that woman can charge us with is breaking and entering.”

  Before answering, Slim turned to face me...a problem since he was the one in the driver’s seat. “You’re lying.”

  I grabbed the wheel, twisting it so we wouldn’t scrape up against a line of parked vehicles, each of which cost approximately as much as my family owed in student loans. Once we were back in the center of the road, I played my trump card. “Bastion...”

  “...hasn’t been poisoned. How stupid do I look?”

  A few days ago, I would have countered that he looked pretty darn stupid. But that wasn’t quite true.

  Slim showed signs of aging, from the bald spot on the back of his head to the spare tire of fat around his waist. Yet he was sharp. He’d hacked into the police servers. Had pulled his weight admirably while tracking what we thought was a murderer...well, except for that part when he barged in on Mr. Smythewhite seducing a mistress young enough to be his kid.

  But that had been misguided chivalry. I was guilty of worse. The first rule of sleuthing—don’t assume anything until you have ironclad proof.

  Second rule of sleuthing—don’t team up with a partner you can’t afford to trust.

  Unfortunately, the only partner I truly trusted was dying. The one I trusted nearly as much was furious. So I sighed, and did my best to buy the goodwill I couldn’t earn the hard way. “What do you want?”

  Another forum story would be easy enough to promise. A good word with our contacts was also feasible. Heck, if Slim helped save my cousin, I’d do anything he asked.

  Except...

  “The truth.”

  Our car sped up as we crossed an intersection. Slim’s gaze no longer pierced my skin.

  He was giving me space to make a decision. Or, more realistically, space to come up with a more believable lie.

  But I wasn’t my sister. When put on the spot, I more often than not blanked on potential misdirection.

  Now was no exception. And there was no time to waste trying to convince Slim. Not when the police were muddying scents at the crime scene. Not when the murderer was sucking up the last of Bastion’s remaining energy.

  And Slim no longer needed my protection. Or, at least, he wouldn’t need it for another twenty-four hours if previous timing was anything to go on.

  What mattered now was following up on this chance to catch our enemy as close to in the act as was possible.

  Family over honor.

  I snatched the phone that sat in the center console between us, flung open the door, then rolled out of the moving car.

  “WAIT!”

  Lights came on in nearby houses as Slim hit the brakes and yelled after me. But I didn’t look back. I’d learned my lesson. Instead, I sprinted for a fence, scrambled over it, then shifted into my lupine skin on the other side.

  Some homeowner was going to wonder when they stumbled upon clothes and weapons stashed beneath a bush tomorrow morning. But that was irrelevant. I could hear Slim’s sneakers pounding closer. So I snatched up his phone between my teeth and crossed grass s
o quickly I tore up divots with my claws.

  Wolf feet are like magic. Mine carried me through the backyard in total silence, leapt the shorter back fence, and led me unerringly away from my pursuer without giving him a hint where I was. It was almost as if I had eyes in the back of my head to see Slim in the darkness. I knew the moment he gave up and returned to his car.

  But I kept running. Just in case. After all, Slim held my confession—that letter I’d penned when I thought we’d all be safely home before now. I couldn’t afford to end up locked in a jail cell when Bastion had less than two days left to live.

  Only when my skin tingled with power did I pause, panting, in an empty dog house. The structure was large enough to shift inside, and I did so. Opened up Slim’s cell phone using the pass code I’d glimpsed over his shoulder during our stakeout. Noted multiple messages from myself.

  Slim had found my stash. That was just as well. At least my guns wouldn’t wind up in the hands of strangers.

  I didn’t bother to see what he had to say to me though. Just headed to the files pertaining to the dead child. Found the crime-scene location. Made a few quick calls.

  “We were wrong,” I told my sister. No time for greetings. No time to ask her how her own night watch was proceeding. If there was a problem, she’d interrupt and tell me the news.

  So instead of waiting for affirmative hums, I spilled the evidence I’d gathered. The murderer wasn’t Mr. Smythewhite. Who else had been sleeping in the house on the night Clarence had nearly been kidnapped?

  Luke, me, Clarence—all of us with ironclad alibis. Plus Mrs. Smythewhite, who I’d overlooked because she was female and presumably lacked the strength to carry her son down a flight of stairs.

  But I could have hefted the kid over my shoulder if I’d needed to. Being a woman didn’t mean I was weak.