Marked in Flesh
Page 17
Catching his uncle’s look, Sam sat up in anticipation.
A simple rhythm that filled the square. Henry and Charlie joined in, their instruments reminding Meg of the sound of leaves stirring in the wind. Then Theral joined in, and her fiddle became the sound of a shallow stream. And then the Wolves sang—and the Courtyard, with its human shops and human instruments, embraced the sound of the wild country.
When Simon tipped his head back and howled, Meg joined him, and Merri Lee and Ruth joined her. Then Karl and Michael added their voices while the Crows cawed and the Owls hooted. Only the Hawks and Sanguinati were silent.
Meg looked to her right, where the Sanguinati sat on the steps or hovered as columns of black smoke.
Smoke, she thought as the skin above her ankle prickled. Grilled cheese sandwich. Merri Lee saying, “Don’t worry about it, Meg. It was your first try. So the crust burned a little. We’ll trim off the burned bits, and the sandwich will be fine.”
Meg looked at the oil lamps providing light, how the flames, even protected within the glass globes, flickered and danced.
Smoke . . . and fire.
The annoying discomfort she’d felt on and off during the concert suddenly turned into a buzzing under her skin that felt so painful it burned.
She cried out and clutched her ankle. In the silence that followed her cry, she thought she heard a distant siren, but she wasn’t sure if the sound was real.
“I have to cut,” she gasped. “I have to—”
No time to explain or argue. No time.
Meg rushed out of the Market Square. Had to reach the Liaison’s Office. Privacy. Bandages.
“Meg!” Simon howled as he ran after her.
She fell against the back door of the office, and almost fell again when she turned the knob and the door swung open.
Simon rushed in behind her, grabbing her to keep her from falling. She felt his claws pricking through her T-shirt.
“What can we do?” Charlie asked, piling into the back room with some of the Wolves.
“Let me through. Move.” Merri Lee shoved her way through the Wolves, who, surprised, lifted their lips in a silent snarl.
“Everyone, get out.”
Meg couldn’t see her, but Tess’s voice sounded oddly harsh.
The Wolves and Charlie took one look at Tess, coming in behind them, and bolted for the sorting room.
“I have to cut,” Meg gasped, pulling the silver folding razor out of her pocket. “I have to.” Too desperate now to walk the few steps to the bathroom, she sat on the floor and opened the razor with shaking hands.
“Okay, you have to cut, but we’re going to do this the right way,” Merri Lee said, her voice stern yet shaking. She grabbed the pen and pad of paper Meg kept on the table in the back room.
Yes. Had to do it right.
Smoke. Fire. Sirens.
Meg looked at Simon, who stared at her with amber eyes that held flickers of red—a sign of anger. Not fully human now. Too upset to hold the form.
“Can’t . . . wait,” she gasped.
“Focus on us,” Tess commanded, kneeling in front of her. “You know what you need to tell us. Speak, prophet, and we will listen.”
Command and promise. Meg’s hand steadied as she set the razor where the skin above her ankle burned—and made the cut.
• • •
Monty pushed into the back room, following Tess. Burke and Shady came in behind him. Feeling a change in the air, he guessed someone had opened the delivery doors in the sorting room to let more of the Others crowd into the office without antagonizing Tess—or Simon.
“You know what you need to tell us,” Tess said. “Speak, prophet, and we will listen.”
He saw the change in Meg as Tess said the words. He was sure that Burke and, especially, Shady, who hadn’t seen this before, were watching everything, from the way Merri Lee knelt beside Meg, pen poised over paper to record everything that was said, to the agony stamped on Meg’s face when she made the cut and how her expression changed to a blank wantonness as she began to speak.
“Woman,” Meg said dreamily. “Dark hair. A loaf of bread. Blackened crust. Blackened arms. Smoke. Fire. Screaming. Bread is burning. Woman is screaming. Burning.”
Sighing, Meg stretched out on the floor.
“Oh, gods,” Merri Lee said, staring at the pad of paper.
Tess twisted around in Monty’s direction, but she kept her eyes focused on the floor as the coils of black and red hair moved around her head.
“Nadine’s Bakery and Café,” Monty said, sick with the certainty. Then he turned to Burke, horrified. “Her apartment is above her shop. She lives above her shop.”
Pushing his way clear of the bodies crowding around the back door, Monty pulled out his mobile phone. He didn’t know Nadine’s home number, but he knew the business phone number. He checked his watch, surprised at how late it was. If Nadine was asleep, would a ringing phone in the shop be enough to wake her?
Burke walked out of the office, already punching numbers into his own mobile phone, his big strides and furious expression scattering the girls and his own men, who were waiting for their orders.
Vlad hurried around the corner of the office with an open phone book. “Is this the number?” He pointed to a listing.
“That’s it.” Monty disconnected and dialed the home number.
Nadine answered on the second ring. “Chris? Where are you?”
“Nadine, it’s Lieutenant Montgomery. Your building is on fire. Get out now.” Was it already on fire, or was the warning just ahead of what was going to happen?
“I— Chris.”
“We’ll find him. Get out, Nadine.”
She hung up.
“Do what you can,” he heard Burke say before his captain ended the call and swore viciously. Burke looked at all of them—his police officers, the girls, Simon, Vlad, and Tess, who was still not meeting anyone’s eyes. “A handful of businesses have been torched on Market Street, and there are more fires around the city. Too many. Lieutenant, you’re with me.”
“Hold up a minute, Lieutenant,” Kowalski said. “I’ll fetch your service weapon.”
None of them, with the possible exception of Burke, were carrying a gun this evening. “Kitchen cupboard. Top shelf.” He pulled out his keys and handed them to Kowalski, pointing out two in particular. “Apartment key. Lockbox key.”
Kowalski took the keys and ran to the steps leading up to the efficiency apartments.
“I’ll wait for you here and do what I can to help,” Shady told Burke.
“Debany, you and Kowalski call the hospitals and other precincts,” Monty said. “We need to locate Chris Fallacaro.”
“You think he’s been harmed?” Vlad asked.
Monty glanced at Simon and wondered if the Wolf was capable of human speech. “I hope not, but we need to locate him.” Chris, who was a locksmith, also did work at the Courtyard and could be a target.
“Lieutenant!” Kowalski returned and handed Monty his weapon and holster. “It’s loaded. And here are extra rounds if you need them.”
Monty slipped the speed loader into his jacket pocket.
“Lieutenant!” Burke shouted.
Monty ran to catch up with Burke, who had already reached the employee parking lot where he’d left his car, had the blue light on the roof, and was ready to go. He’d barely closed his door before Burke backed out of the space. But the captain eased the car out of the lot and down the access way, aware of Wolves and humans milling about. He turned right, then right again, flipping on the sirens and light as he raced along Crowfield Avenue to Parkside, where he headed north at what would be a reckless speed if anyone else had been driving.
“We can’t fight a fire,” Monty said quietly. Prophecy could be changed. Burned bread? Yes, the shop would be lost. But . . .
“No, we can’t fight a fire, but we can make sure Ms. Fallacaro survives if she gets out of the building,” Burke replied.
“
Survives?” He felt sick. “You think someone would be waiting for her?”
“Don’t you?”
• • •
Sirens. A harsh—and human—kind of howling.
Simon listened to all the voices around him, struggling to contain his rage. The Nadine hadn’t hurt anyone by selling bread and pastries to Tess for A Little Bite. In fact, by honoring the agreement the city had made with the Courtyard, her bakery was the reason the rest of the bakeries in the city had been allowed to continue.
Too many terra indigene from the wild country were close enough to the city to notice this fighting among humans. This wasn’t an understandable dispute—two bakers battling to show who was dominant and would control the bakery, forcing the loser to find a new place to work. No, this destruction was a deliberate attack against the Others as well as the humans whose dens and businesses were burning.
He wasn’t sure where she was, but he guessed she’d gone into A Little Bite to avoid being seen until she wanted to be seen.
“Simon, I’m going to let Kowalski and Debany use the phones in Howling Good Reads to make their calls,” Vlad said. “I’ll stay in the store with them.”
“She’s fine.” Vlad nodded toward the back door.
Simon turned. She stood behind Ruthie and Merri Lee. The girls looked pale, smelled afraid.
“Meg should eat,” Vlad said. “The female pack should stay with her. They’re going to Meat-n-Greens. Grandfather Erebus will look after them. So will the Shady Burke.”
“Yes. But this disease has a name: Humans First and Last.”
Simon watched Jester Coyotegard navigate around Wolves and human males, his tail tucked between his legs. When he reached Simon, the Coyote rose up on his hind legs, probably intending to shift to human form. Then he caught sight of Meg and the other girls and dropped to all four paws.
Jester looked at Simon.
Simon considered the question—and who was asking the question. Did he want the Elementals to respond to this attack on humans who honored the agreements that had been made between humans and terra indigene? If the Courtyard did nothing, would humans see that as a weakness, encouraging them to continue testing and attacking? But the terra indigene in the wild country, the terra indigene who were Namid’s teeth and claws, were already considering the elimination of this troublesome species, already wanted to purge humans from Thaisia.
That purge was coming. The Sanguinati and the rest of the terra indigene were abandoning the Courtyard in Toland. No doubt humans would think it was because the Others were acknowledging human superiority. But the Others weren’t leaving Toland because of the humans; they were leaving to get out of the way of the fury that was coming.
That was Toland. Jester and the girls at the lake were waiting for his decision about Lakeside.
Too many fires burning in the city tonight. More than the firemen and firetrucks could handle on their own.
Too many fires. And not enough fires.
Simon looked at Jester.
• • •
The fire at Nadine’s Bakery and Café was fully engaged by the time Monty and Burke pulled up halfway down the block.
“Where are the fucking firetrucks?” Burke snarled. He slammed out of the car, its bubble light still flashing, and opened the trunk.
Monty got out of the car and decided the answer to Burke’s question was obvious. All he had to do was look at all the flashing lights from the trucks as firemen tried to control the other fires farther up the street.
Monty scanned the street but didn’t see Nadine or Chris Fallacaro.
Burke slammed the trunk. He had removed his sports jacket, and his shoulder holster and weapon were visible over his casual shirt. He carried a length of pipe.
Monty had expected the gun. He didn’t want to think about why Burke carried a length of pipe in his official vehicle. “Captain?”
“You see her?”
“No. But there are a couple of parking spaces behind her building.”
Burke strode in that direction. Monty followed, keeping an eye on the building. Gods, what kind of accelerant had been used for it to go up this fast? Had Nadine . . .
They heard a scream. Recklessly ignoring the heat and flames, they ran to the back of the building. Nadine had reached her car. She’d had enough warning that she hadn’t been trapped inside the building, but not enough time to get clear of the pack of men who had come to burn her out. They’d smashed the car windows and were dragging her out of the car when Burke arrived, swinging the pipe with a fury that put two men on the ground and scattered the rest of Nadine’s attackers.
“Police!” Monty shouted, pointing his weapon at the attackers. “Down on the ground!”
A piece of burning debris fell between him and the attackers, and he didn’t expect them to obey.
“Lieutenant! Get her out of here!” Burke yelled.
Monty holstered his weapon and ran to the car. Nudging Nadine into the passenger seat, he started the car and barreled out of the narrow driveway, almost hitting a couple of people who were either coming to help or just there to gawk.
He drove past Burke’s vehicle and parked behind it, blocking in the cars that were already parked on the street. “Stay here.” He bolted out of the car, intending to back up his captain, when he saw Burke walking toward him. Watching Burke, he leaned down enough to talk to Nadine.
“Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?”
When she didn’t respond, Monty wondered if she was in shock. Did Burke have a blanket in his trunk?
“After you called,” Nadine said suddenly, “I got dressed and grabbed my purse, my keys, and the two file boxes where I keep all my important papers. I put the file boxes in the trunk and heard shouts, heard . . .”
“We’ll get a statement later. Right now—”
“They were going to throw me into the building, into the fire.” Her voice held a note of bewilderment. “They said that. They were going to throw me into the fire.”
Monty joined his captain as Burke opened the trunk of his own vehicle, tossed the pipe inside, and took the sports jacket out.
“You have a blanket in there?” Monty asked.
Burke pulled one out and handed it to him. Monty hurried back to Nadine and tucked the blanket around her before rejoining Burke. “Captain . . .”
“Lots of debris falling,” Burke said idly, putting on the jacket. “A couple assailants tripped on some debris during a criminal act.”
“Gods, Captain. What if they accuse you?”
The smile Burke gave him was beyond his usual fierce-friendly smile; it was terrifying. “You think any of those men are going to want the terra indigene to know who set fire to Ms. Fallacaro’s business and tried to kill her? I hurt a couple of them, but I wasn’t trying to inflict real damage, so I doubt the blows were serious enough that those men will see a doctor, let alone end up in the emergency room. But if they want to come forward so that a whole lot of beings can recognize their faces, I’ll take whatever penalties come from it.”
“What happened to those men?”
“Went over the fence into the next property. Or so I’m assuming.”
He hadn’t heard gunshots. At least Burke hadn’t shot any of them.
Monty’s mobile phone rang. “Montgomery.”
“Lieutenant, it’s Kowalski. We found Chris Fallacaro. He was at the university precinct, brought in with a handful of other young men who were fighting. I talked
to Captain Wheatley. He’s of the opinion that Fallacaro was the victim of an attack and wasn’t doing much fighting to defend himself after someone broke his left hand with a hammer.”
“What stopped the fight?”
“The kid with the hammer raised it above his head for another swing . . . and was struck by lightning. He’s heading for the morgue.”
Gods above and below, Monty thought.
“Fallacaro has made a statement and is on his way to Lakeside Hospital. Do you want me and Debany to meet him there and stay with him?”
“Wait a moment.” Monty relayed the information to Burke.
“That’s a plan,” Burke said. “They can head out now. Shady will keep an eye on things. I’ll call Captain Wheatley with an update as soon as we get back to the Courtyard.”
They heard the explosion and watched a fireball rise from a building two blocks away.
“Let’s go,” Burke said quietly as a second building exploded. Then a third. And a fourth.
Lightning struck nearby, and the boom of thunder, sounding more like giant hooves striking the ground, made Monty’s skin crawl.
“Let’s go,” Burke said again.
Monty returned to Nadine’s car and followed Burke’s flashing blue light back to the Courtyard as a punishing rain struck the northern part of the city, putting out the fires and flooding the streets.
• • •
“What do you think?” Eve Denby asked.
Henry looked around the room above the Liaison’s Office—a room that had occasionally been used for sex with a human—and wondered what he was supposed to think. More, he wondered why he’d been chosen to provide the answer. Then he looked at Ruthie, Theral, and Eve. They must have considered the members of the Business Association and had decided he was the most approachable right now.
Tess had slipped away from the Courtyard. No one was sure where she was, but he was certain a few members of the Humans First and Last movement were going to die of a mysterious plague that had already struck humans in the city a couple of times over the past few months. Simon had gone off to consider a simple yet difficult question: was Lakeside worth saving, and if it was, how much could their Courtyard save? Vlad and Blair were coordinating the defense of the Courtyard and its property. Wolves were patrolling the boundaries of the Courtyard and guarding the three gates that provided the easiest access. The Sanguinati were guarding the Market Square and the buildings on Crowfield Avenue, making sure no one attacked the Denbys’ apartment or threatened the children. The Crows and Hawks were maintaining a lookout around the buildings, while the Owls glided along the fence line, looking for intruders. Nathan, Erebus, and the Shady Burke were in Meat-n-Greens with Meg and Merri Lee.