by Cathy Clamp
The more Tristan thought about that, the better he liked it. “Actually, just the basement may be sufficient. I haven’t had a chance to check her wounds out for the scent of the killer. This was a personal kill—so teeth or claws. But he’d meant to destroy the body in the explosion—along with our bodies. Probably he would have then set another wildfire to cover the explosion.”
Rachel shrugged. “You can’t check that here?”
He and Bobby shared a look. “It’s a messy process. I doubt you’d enjoy watching and it’s difficult to protect the body in the process.” That was an understatement. Unlike just sniffing, he had to bury his hands in the body, let what humans now knew as DNA soak into his pores to reveal the killer. At least he didn’t examine the body the way Bobby did—cutting the wound apart and rolling it around in his mouth in snake form to taste the flesh, inside and out.
He heard a small noise and looked left to see Anica staring down at the deceased woman’s body, looking a little green. “Are you all right?’
She looked up, her face stricken. “Please do not do that to Paula? Her body deserves respect.” Anica paused and then shuddered. “Digging around? No. That is not right.”
Wait. How had she known that? He stared at her and she stared right back. The thing was, she didn’t seem concerned by hearing his thoughts, while he definitely was. It had been years since he’d had to put up shields. Not since his mother was alive. But he still remembered how. Whatever magic Anica had used to slip past his defenses would end here. “Let’s get the body … Paula … to the shop. And I will be respectful.”
Bobby picked up the woman like he was carrying a toddler and put her in the back of the ATV. Tristan felt a press of magic from the python shifter that would make the bloody body appear to be something innocuous to passersby. Likely he’d pick a form that would make sense, like a sack of laundry, so nobody would stop to ask questions as they drove through town.
There were too many people to transport in the vehicle. Bobby motioned to Rachel to sit in the back to keep Paula upright and lifted his brows, asking without words who Tristan wanted to walk back with. At this point, he didn’t want it to be Anica. That was the path to temptation. “Agent Adway, could I speak with you for a moment?”
Dalvin seemed surprised at the request. He looked at Bobby and then Rachel for their opinion. They both shrugged. So he got out from behind the wheel of the ATV and moved closer to Tristan. Bobby smiled at Anica and opened the tiny half door to the front seat. She got in, shooting a confused and disappointed look at Tristan. Tristan could feel her frustration, yet at the same time, her relief. So, perhaps she was also bothered by the connection.
After Bobby got in the driver’s side and the vehicle left, Dalvin held out his hands. “What did you want to talk about?”
“How long have you been in town? I need to know more about the people here—from a Wolven perspective.”
The owl didn’t answer at first. He crossed his arms over his chest. One long dark finger tapped on the opposite sleeve thoughtfully. “You’re not Wolven. Who are you?”
It was a fair question, but he couldn’t answer. At least, not entirely. It really didn’t make any sense to pretend to be a tourist anymore. If he wasn’t specifically a target of the bomb, at the very least, his presence with Amber Monier and the town’s Alpha, as a colleague instead of a prisoner, would have been noticed. “I would appreciate it if you would keep my presence here as quiet as possible. I was sent here by Ahmad to find someone we both thought was long dead. If he’s here, the entire town is in danger. Everyone in the world is in danger.”
Dalvin swore under his breath. “I knew it. I knew Ahmad was looking for someone when he sent us hunting through every house in the town before the peace talks. He wouldn’t take no for an answer … just kept sending us back into the woods, all fucking night long, looking for a ghost that he wouldn’t even give us a description of.”
“He would have if he could have. It’s been a thousand years since anyone has seen him, including me. He could look like anyone by now.” That was the frustrating part. He really could be anyone in town. His illusion magic was immense, second only to Sargon’s, and he was very skilled at keeping his magic low-key. Even Sargon didn’t realize just how powerful he was for years.
Dalvin had an odd look on his face but shook it off after a few seconds. “Well, he’s a snake. That’s what Ahmad had us looking for. You can’t hide that, and there wasn’t one in town … and not counting Bobby, there isn’t one now either.” Dalvin seemed so confident, so sure of himself. It nearly made Tristan laugh. The other man noticed and was annoyed. The press of heat against his skin wasn’t strong, but it was there. “You think something is funny?”
“No.” It wasn’t, really. “But you have a lot to learn about power and illusion.” The darker man frowned, so it was probably time to change the subject. “Who’s the most powerful original resident, someone who’s been here since the camp was formed?” Perhaps there was a way to network to get more information about the townspeople. “I need some more information about how the townspeople were vetted.”
Dalvin thought for a moment. “Probably the Williams family and the Kragans. They’re all owls. There are actually a bunch of birds in town, which is sort of unique. Maybe they know why.”
The last name Kragan rang a bell, but he couldn’t remember why. “Okay, which way to get to where they live? It doesn’t matter which I start with.”
“What about Paula? We need to get to the ice cream shop.”
It was time for a harsh life lesson for the young Wolven agent. “There isn’t anything I can do to bring her back, Agent, and she’s not going anywhere. Her death is what Wolven is here for. So, please, go investigate her death. I’m here to investigate what you can’t.”
Now the agent seemed angry. But his scent said he was merely suspicious. “You said you hadn’t had the chance to check her wounds. Are you not planning to follow through?”
“Not until everyone is long asleep, Agent. I still have to find out what … or, more precisely, who I’m looking for.”
“I’m sorry,” Dalvin said with an expression and scent approaching a sneer, “But I just don’t buy that any Sazi can change his or her entire persona. I mean, if an alpha shifts into a owl maybe … just maybe, he or she could convince strangers they’re an eagle of similar size or coloration, at least for a few hours. But you’re talking about a decade, living in a small town with a hundred people who see you, smell you, shift with you, hunt with you, every day.” He shook his head. “Nobody could keep up such a complicated lie. Just the scent of a lie alone would be enough to have someone notice.”
“Really.” It wasn’t necessary to say more. Yes, he could prove his point, but how would it help? The young agent would learn, just as Tristan had learned. There was so much more that magic could do than simply shift you or make you faster or stronger. “So I suppose it would surprise you to learn there are more snakes than just Bobby in town?”
That widened his brown eyes. “One of the volunteers you encountered? I haven’t met them all yet.”
Tristan shrugged and ran fingers through his collar-length black hair, almost ironically. The weight of it, the texture. All perfect. A perfect lie. “Your job to figure it out. Not mine. I’m just here looking for a ghost … remember?”
“Anyone tell you you’re an ass?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “A few people. Ahmad, for example.”
There was silence for so long that Tristan had to look up. The shocked expression was priceless. “Ahmad thinks you’re an ass?”
Tristan’s only response was a quirk of a smile. “Oh, and the lovely doctor, earlier today.”
It took Dalvin two tries to wrap his lips around Tristan’s words. His forehead was furrowed so deep it was surprising he could see from under his eyebrows. “How are you not dead?”
It was a good question. There was a really good answer. “There are only two things that keep a
n ass alive, Agent. Being that good, or being that bad.”
CHAPTER 9
She looked so … damaged. Paula’s skin was white, turning to blue, so the red stain that used to be her neck and chest seemed almost garish. She was fully clothed, which was at least a small dignity. Anica looked around and realized she was the only person in the cool basement who was mourning the woman. Bobby was very carefully sniffing around her neck by flicking his tongue. After what Tristan had thought, she was fairly certain he was being careful for her benefit, not Paula’s.
Rachel was searching through the storage area that took up a large section of the room, looking for something to raise the body up from the floor so the blood didn’t stain the concrete. Skew had told Anica, during one of her visits to Polar Pops to sample the ice cream, that this building had been used as a storage shed when the town was first set up. It was only in the past few years that the mayor had opened the ice cream shop and put Skew in charge—around the same time the refugee camp had become a formal town, with a post office and a jail and everything.
As a new resident, Anica didn’t feel comfortable going through the cartons and piles of stored items; after all, all these things technically belonged to people who lived in Luna Lake, many of whom Anica did not know at all. Rachel had essentially grown up here and had undoubtedly visited the storage area more than once in her role as the town’s Omega, searching for something someone needed. So Anica had asked her friend to find something to protect Paula’s body. But she could tell that Rachel’s heart wasn’t in the task, that she was only looking so she didn’t have to stare at the body.
Skew had at first objected to the body in the basement, seeing them enter the empty store and racing to put herself in their path with a shouted, “No, no! Not safe!” But when Bobby had simply pushed past her with magic and brute force, she’d relented and meekly followed them down the stairs. Now she looked like she normally did—not really in touch with what was happening, in her own little world. Her head bobbed and jerked as she looked around the room, as though seeing it for the first time.
“Hey!” Rachel called out from within the path through the ceiling-high boxes, crates, and furnishings. “Found something. Anica, give me a hand.”
Anica followed her voice until she could see Rachel trying to pull what looked like a green cot out from among the boxes. “Wait. That box above your head is about to fall!” She rushed forward and stood on tiptoes to steady the rattling carton. It was fairly heavy. While it probably wouldn’t kill Rachel, it would have given her a bad headache.
Rachel looked up just as the cot came free from the jumble. “Eep! Thanks. I didn’t even notice that one.” She had apparently seen one of these types of cots before, because she immediately began to open it up, snapping the legs into position with practiced ease. “I knew there had to be at least one left back here.” She set it on its end on the floor. “We all slept on these when we first got to town. They dumped us off the buses in what’s now the parking lot at the lake. I just remember everyone being scared.” She leaned forward and sniffed the sturdy woven green fabric. “Take a sniff. It still smells like scared kids. That scent never comes out.”
Anica didn’t smell it. She didn’t need to. “I remember scared smell. I could not get out of my nose, off my skin. Weeks after I escape, it won’t wash off.”
They made their way back to the main room. Skew turned around as Rachel set the cot on the floor with a small clink. Her eyes seemed to clear, as though a fog was passing. She pointed a finger at them. Her voice turned from the regular singsong soprano to a confident alto. “Girls to the left. Boys to the right. Stay in line, kids.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Pick up sheets on the first table, a towel … only one per person, on the second table, and a toothbrush and soap on the third. Report back to your cot and wait for someone to talk to you.”
She saw Bobby kneeling next to Paula and went over, put a finger aside Paula’s neck, and shook her head with a sigh. “This one didn’t make it. Pity. Pretty thing.” She raised her voice, calling to someone only she could see, “Robert! We need a stretcher.” Putting a hand on Bobby’s shoulder, she patted gently and said softly, “We’re cremating the remains. I hope you understand. We’ll do our best to get all her ashes back to you.”
She looked squarely at the wall and shouted again. “Robert! C’mon! We have to clear the space. If you can’t find a stretcher, get a blanket!” She raced up the stairs, still shouting for people. At least there was nobody to find upstairs and the front door was locked.
Bobby moved his head closer to them. “What is up with her?”
Rachel was shaking. Anica reached out and touched her and the woman’s eyes were tearing up. “Rachel?”
Her voice was a whisper, her scent wet with heavy sorrow and the tang of anger. “She’s reliving the first day. I remember her like this—back before she turned into sweet, flaky Skew. She was a town leader, directing the whole operation. Dozens of buses, hundreds of orphans and frantic adults, looking for their families. And she handled it all. I haven’t seen her like”—she pointed at the ceiling—“this since … since that first day.”
Anica stared at the stairs and thought about the little parakeet she’d known for only a month. Skew had stopped yelling. It sounded like she was cleaning, moving chairs around. “What happened to her?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice was sad, confused. She stared at the stairs. “Is there any way to find out?” She looked at Bobby. “Can she be fixed?”
He took a deep breath and let it out slow. “If she can be, Amber’s the one to do it. Nobody better at sorting through mental scars. Honestly, if she’s met the woman, I’m surprised she hasn’t already healed her.”
Anica leaned against the concrete wall and nodded. “She has met Skew. Amber and I ate ice cream together here before the fire got so close. She did not mention healing her.”
Bobby reached his arms under Paula and waited until Anica and Rachel got the cot situated under her, then gently draped her on the cot, crossing Paula’s arms over her chest. “Okay, let’s get the walk-in cleaned out so we can put her inside. You’re right; we don’t want to have any food in the same freezer.”
* * *
Anica’s fingers were going numb by the time they finished clearing out the big freezer and her nose could only smell death mixed with fruit pops, which was very strange. All of the smaller freezers had been rearranged and were completely full. As she was coming out with the last few boxes, she saw movement and heard a tapping on the small window at ground level. She couldn’t see very well, so she went closer. “Dalvin? Why are you crawling on ground?” She reached up but couldn’t quite get the lock on the small window open.
Rachel came out from the freezer, broom and dustpan in hand from sweeping up the remains of boxes they had to open to arrange things in the small freezers. “What are you doing, Anica?” As Rachel walked closer, she saw her fiancé on the other side of the window. “Here, let me get that.” She reached above Anica and unlatched the window, using the dustpan to push it up to open it. “Where have you been and what in the world are you doing? Tired of using the front door?”
He let out a snort. “Long story, and have you seen the front door? A tank couldn’t get in there.”
Rachel looked at her, then at the stairs, and then motioned behind. “Go get Bobby. I’ll help Dalvin inside. I think we need to go upstairs.”
Getting Dalvin through the window took all three of them. Feetfirst hadn’t worked at all, so he had to come in headfirst. When his belt got caught on the window frame, they had to push him back out to take off the belt and then try again. While they were waiting, Rachel walked up the stairs. Moments later, she called back down, “Oh, you guys need to see this!”
Anica and Bobby looked at each other and then started up the stairs. But Dalvin’s voice stopped them. “C’mon, guys. Get me inside first, huh?”
Rachel bounded down the stairs, past them. “You need to see
this too. Get on in here.”
So back they went to the window. This time, without the belt holding him in, Dalvin easily slipped through the window. “Thanks, guys,” he said once he was inside and putting on his shoes, which he’d taken off and tossed in ahead of him. “I’m really wondering what it looks like from the inside. Because from outside, it looks like a pawnshop during a riot.”
Anica had no idea what that might look like, so she was very curious. When she got to the top of the stairs, she could only stare in disbelief along with the others.
The entire main floor had been cleared of furniture. Tables and chairs were all piled up in front of the front door. The plate-glass windows with painted cartoon ice cream cones frolicking at the edge of a crescent-shaped lake had disappeared behind heavy metal grates that Anica had no idea existed.
“Look at all the mousetraps!” Rachel’s voice was somewhere between amused and disturbed. The traps were set only inches away from one another on the black and white tiled floor, leaving not even enough room to walk. On top of each set mousetrap was a pair of twisted nails. Anica could see that if a mousetrap was set off the nails would pop into the air and embed themselves in whatever was close. It was a very effective trap. “How long did this take to set up?”
Bobby looked at the watch on his wrist. “We’ve been working on the freezer for about an hour. She moves quick.”
Rachel tiptoed into the room, trying not to set off the traps. “Skew? It’s me … Rachel. Can we talk?”
Anica nudged Rachel and pointed to where Skew, now in falcon form, was perched on top of the white board menu, staring at them. She flapped her wings hard and fast, sending a burst of wind to push her back. It made all the traps vibrate but not pop. Her beak opened and an earsplitting screech filled the room, followed by shouting: “Snake! Hide the children!” She said it over and over, sounding for all the world like the alarm in some cars Anica had heard in the airport parking lot.
