Watch Fire

by Jade Wolfe

  "If I see him, I'll do that."

  "Thanks." I backed out of the parking spot without waiting for an answer and rolled up the window. He watched us drive away until we were out of sight.

  "That was awkward," Pearl said. "You're never going to catch him by being a bitch."

  I looked over at her. "Catch him? In case you didn't notice, I was trying to get away from him."

  "Right now, sure." She smiled knowingly. "But I saw the way you looked at him."

  I went back to watching the road and didn't answer.

  “I thought I was taking the car home, and you were staying here?” Pearl asked when I made the turn onto Main Street and passed the court house.

  “Give me a minute, I’m just making sure he’s out of sight.”

  “Oh.”

  “And so help me, if you wreck my car...” I tapped the steering wheel with the palm of my hand.

  “I’m not going to hurt your car,” she said. “Don’t you think we have more important things to worry about right now?”

  I didn’t answer.

  I pulled into the court house parking lot, behind the building, and climbed out. I shot Pearl a menacing look for good measure, then watched as she climbed in and slammed the door.

  She pulled out. I watched her go, then turned back toward the way we had come. Time to go hunting.

  The best place to start would have to be the bridge, where we'd last seem the Navarro. The place would still be crawling with cops and firefighters, though. I hoped all the activity and the fire would make the wolves nervous, instead of drawing them in to what could be a fresh meal. I decided that the best way to handle this mess was to start on the farthest end of town away from the bridge and work my way back to that end. That way, I wouldn't miss anything.

  Honestly, I was surprised there hadn't been more bloodshed so far. Now I just had to make sure it stayed that way. I headed back into the downtown area, keeping my eyes open.

  It looked like the people of Wilding had taken the sheriff's advice at least - the streets were practically deserted, and it was only dusk. I prowled along, trying to stick to the shadows between the streetlights, and watched for movement up and down the street.

  It didn't take long to traverse the length of Main Street, and then I started working my way along to the more residential parts of town.

  The houses here were older, larger structures, with plenty of lawns and trees in between. Big two and three storied homes, with plenty of shadows for a pack of black wolves to hide. It wouldn't take much for the Navarro to break through one of those pretty picture windows and ravage an entire family. Hell, the last I knew, there were about fifty werewolves in the pack - they could destroy two or three families at a time.

  And Wilding wasn't that large. One long, bloody night, and there wouldn't be a town left.

  At least the people tended to be armed around here. This was the south, and folks tended to take their Second Amendment rights pretty seriously. Guns were about the only thing that would even the playing score between man and wolf.

  I patrolled three streets on the west side of town, away from the bridge, before I saw movement just at the end of the street. There was a funeral home here, housed in one of the biggest red brick homes in town, one of those numbers with a hundred columns and dormers high in the sky. It looked very stately, except for the dark shadow turning the corner farthest away from me.

  I ran as quietly as I could toward that end, but I didn't follow the shadow. Instead, I went up the front steps and crossed the deep porch, leaning over the banister when I got there. That vantage point gave me a view of the next street, but if my prey was facing this way, it wouldn't necessarily see me poke my head out.

  I saw the shadow moving farther down the street, maybe half a block away. It was a person, and not a werewolf - that would have been too easy. Just a regular citizen out for a stroll. OK, a stupid citizen. There were people dying in town, and the sheriff had issued a warning. Did this person think they were invincible?

  I started to back away, but then caught sight of something else. Something a lot less innocent than a resident out for a walk.

  Chapter Ten

  Farther along the street, another shadow passed under a streetlight. This one was as tall as the human walking toward it, but as wide as a doorway. A werewolf. It disappeared as quickly as I saw it, slipping back into the shadow of a Victorian on the next corner. My local sightseer here was about to walk right into a nasty trap.

  I started to call out to him, but then paused and calculated the distance between predator and prey. It was a little bit risky, but if I was careful I might be able to save one and kill the other, hopefully in the right order. I would be gambling with trouble, but I was pretty sure I could do it.

  The person was nearing the end of the block, where he would end up under a streetlight. The streetlights in Wilding were dim, fancy things made to resemble an old gas lantern. Pretty and kind of useless. I jumped over the banister and landed as softly as I could on the sidewalk behind the person, then made my way that direction. I stuck as close to the side of the building as I could and waited for the two shadows to collide at the corner. When they did, neither of them would be paying attention to me. That was when I could make my move.

  I made my way silently to the intersection, reaching the light there just as the pedestrian turned the corner. I stopped, tense, and pulled one of the knives from my belt.

  And then somebody screamed.

  The two shadows rolled together out in front of me. The werewolf on top. I lunged for him, landing on his back. I got an arm around his neck and jerked him backward. Good God, he stank. Like rotted meat. I jerked again and we rolled, landing both me and the wolf on our backs, him on top of me. I gagged as his odor enveloped me. He thrashed hard, not sure what was happening but willing to kill anything within reach. I heard sharp teeth gnashing and he flung his body side to side. He was nearly crushing my ribs, and I couldn't breathe at all, not with that much weight on me. Not that I wanted to - that smell.

  I used my free hand - the one with the knife - to slit his throat. There wasn't even a yelp, just hot sticky blood flowing down across my arm and neck. The large furry body flopped to the side. I pushed him off and rolled out from under him, jumping to my feet with a heaving breath and looking hard for the rest of the Navarro to come out of the shadows.

  "What the hell was that?" a familiar voice shouted from nearby.

  I spun around to see the pedestrian I'd just saved standing near the side of the building. It was my new buddy Sam. His clothes were a little ripped up, and he had a pretty nasty scratch on his cheek, but otherwise he looked more alarmed than hurt.

  I turned and ran. Hard.

  I sprinted across the street and down into an alley that smelled like the fish place beside it, then jumped a low wall and made a left, back toward the bridge. I was trying to lose Sam, but move in a wide arc so that I could circle back and check for more werewolves in the same vicinity. They wouldn't get too far from one another, I didn't think. Werewolves were true wolves in a way - the pack was more important than anything else. I personally thought that was one of the draws for wolves like Myla and the Navarro, the ones who gave up their human form altogether - that sense of family and strict rules, making everything simple. I couldn't live that way, but I could see how some people might be drawn to it. No complicated decisions, no uncomfortable social interactions.

  By the time I circled four blocks and made my way back toward the funeral home, the adrenaline was starting to wear off and my legs were feeling a little wobbly. That was all right, though. One of my talents, according to Lucy, was my ability to keep going until the job was done or I simply dropped from pure exhaustion. Right now, the job wasn't done.

  When I got back to where I'd killed the wolf, there was no wolf. There was only the dead, naked body of a stranger. A woman this time, with a lean, hard body and auburn hair that puddled under her head. I bet she had gone missing a few years ago
, too. I would have to let Michaels sort that out. I bypassed her, skipping around the large pool of dark blood, then went the opposite direction I'd run before. No werewolves that way, so I thought I'd better keep looking.

  I hadn't gone far when I spotted another shadow, a shaggy silhouette against the bright light of a small bakery. I instinctively crouched low and backed up a couple of steps, watching. I held my breath.

  The werewolf wasn't moving. I couldn't tell if he was looking through the windows or simply waiting there for someone to come walking by. Either way, he was going to need to die tonight. I pulled one of the smaller knives from my boot and stood up slowly, holding my breath and calculating the distance between us. I thought I could put my knife in his eye and drop him quick. I just needed him to turn toward me.

  I wondered what happened to Sam. It was odd, the way he disappeared. If he hadn't chased me, and he hadn't called the cops, what had he done? Surely he hadn't just sauntered on home, content to be alive after his nightly werewolf attack. I was glad he wasn't in the way, but I was still curious. Nobody would just leave and not say something to somebody, right? He seemed like an intelligent guy, so where were the questions? The cops? Where was he?

  The wolf turned, finally, and I saw the flash of his silver eyes in the light. Taking aim, I balanced myself, drew back, and let the blade fly. It was like slow motion for me - the spinning steel, the light glinting off the razor sharp edge. The wolf was on all fours, but still eye level with me, which was a good thing because my aim was low. The knife missed its face completely, but to my surprise sank squarely into the animal's neck.

  The wolf twisted, clawed at the pain, and fell heavily onto the sidewalk.

  "Nice shot," said Sam.

  I jumped and screeched a little. "What the - where the hell did you come from?" I snapped at him.

  "I've been following you since you killed the first one. Care to tell me what you're up to?"

  "Nope." I ignored my pounding heart and walked away from him. He kept up with me. "Go home, Sam. This doesn't concern you."

  "Oh, yes it does. This is my new home, after all."

  "Speaking of home, why aren't you there? You heard Michaels today. Stay inside and lock your doors."

  "Yeah, well, he also told me to keep kids inside, and mine is out wandering around somewhere. I've been looking for him for the past hour."

  I kept walking, but turned my head to stare at him. "You lost a kid? Tonight?"

  "Well, he probably lost himself. You know how twelve year old boys can be - a little bit absent-minded. And mine is like me, meaning worse than most. He's around here somewhere, but the little display you've been putting on tonight is worrying me."

  "You think?"

  "Also, I need you to explain why you're killing what you told Tom were wild dogs, but then they somehow become a regular human being?"

  He saw that, and it didn't freak him out? Impressive. I would like to have elaborated, but I was busy, and now there was a loose kid out floating around, just waiting to be plucked from the street by a supernatural creature. How did you even begin that talk? I didn't know, so I just walked faster. I was practically running again.

  He was keeping up. "You know, I've run marathons my whole life. I even did an ultra-marathon once. It almost killed me, but I did it."

  Of course he did. I stopped and turned on him. "Look, this whole situation is dangerous. More dangerous than even Michaels knows. You need to find your kid, take him home, and bar the windows and doors."

  "Bar the windows?" We’d stopped under a streetlight. I saw his eyebrows disappear into the shadow of his hair. "That sounds medieval."

  "Maybe it is, but it's also the safest thing right now."

  He crossed his arms. "And I should hide at home and wait for you to save the day?"

  The laughter in his voice made me want to slap him. "Yes. I understand what's happening here, and it's very apparent that you do not."

  "Well, first of all, I saw you before I rounded the corner at the funeral home - the first time. You saw me, and you also saw what I was walking into, I suppose. Otherwise you wouldn't have followed. Unless you just like looking at my butt."

  I didn't dare answer that.

  "So I have to assume you saw the...dog...that attacked me. That means you were basically using me as bait, right?"

  I didn't answer that one either. Every word out of this guy’s mouth was a trick question.

  "If I'm the bait, I have a right to know what we're hunting, at least."

  He had a point, even if I didn't want to admit it. Still, I mostly wanted him inside, out of trouble and away from me. I couldn't think very well when he was this close. He must be wearing some kind of distracting aftershave or something.

  I turned away and started walking again. "We'll check the parks first. Is there any place in particular that your son likes to hang out?”

  "We're still pretty new here, so not really. He has one or two friends, but they live out of town, so he couldn't really walk or ride his bike there. He likes going out to Red Rock." He paused. "You live out there somewhere, don't you?"

  I nodded. "Logan Park is a couple of streets over. We'll check there first, and then swing back around to Confederate Circle. Does he like to skate?"

  "All kids like to skate," he answered. He was keeping up with me easily, not even out of breath. The truth was, I wasn't very familiar with this town, either. I was even less familiar with kids and what they liked to do. The only reason I even knew there was a skate park in Wilding was the big signs we passed whenever Lucy and I came into town to do grocery shopping. Since I was pretty sure his kid wouldn't be at the grocery store, I was kind of at a loss.

  I just hoped that the kid wasn't out at Red Rock. With a strange witch roaming the woods and the barrier down, all hell might be breaking loose out there. "What's his name? Your son?"

  "Caleb. He's a good kid, and I normally don't worry about him hanging out alone like this. He needs his space, especially now." There was something odd in his voice that I couldn't quite name.

  "What do you mean?" We were at Logan Park now. I started checking the picnic shelters and the soccer field. I even crossed the park to make sure he wasn't sitting idly in a swing in the playground area.

  "His mother died two years ago," Sam explained. "It's been...rough. On both of us."

  "I'm sorry."

  "I try not to hover over him, but it's tough, you know?"

  I didn't know, but I could imagine. I’d lost both parents, after all. The fear of losing the one person you've got left was suffocating. I slowed my steps a little.

  "Caleb doesn't make friends all that easily. He says too many friends take up thinking time."

  The kid was right - I could barely think at all with my new friend walking along beside me here. Also the night was getting cooler and there were still freaking werewolves out prowling around on the street.

  When we left Logan and started toward Confederate Circle, we were within sight of the bridge. I could still see red and blue lights flashing against the steel stucture, which meant they were still processing the scene. Michaels was probably trying to figure out how that Eli dude had ended up there. I turned away and started down Oak.

  At first glance, Confederate was as empty as Logan Park. Maybe even emptier - this was a concrete skate park, set up exclusively for the older kids. No swings or slides or sandboxes here. Just a few deep bowls, some rails and some ramps, all fringed with grass. The concrete was decorated with city-commissioned graffiti to make everything look authentic to the big city experience. According to Pearl, the teens around here seemed to like it.

  But Caleb wasn’t here. "Maybe you should call in Michaels," I suggested. "He's way more capable of finding a kid around here than I am. He can call in help."

  "Not sure I like that idea," Sam said. "Something about that guy makes me nervous."

  "Well, he is the cops. A lot of people get nervous around the cops."

  "Indigo, I'm not fourtee
n. I'm thirty-five, and cops don't normally make me nervous because I'm not doing anything wrong." He sounded a little insulted that I'd even said it.

  "Sorry."

  Truth be told, something about Michaels made me a little nervous, too. He acted entirely too complacent in the midst of horrendous attacks in his quiet little town.

  Chapter Eleven

  With the parks cleared, I was out of ideas. "Has he run off before?" I asked. I was trying to help Sam, but keep an eye out for werewolves at the same time. I didn't know what might happen if I saw one - killing it in front of Sam would only invite more questions, and he was a lawyer, so he might never stop asking.

  "Not really. Like I said, he enjoys time to himself, but he's never run away, if that's what you're asking."

  "Well, there aren't that many places in this town to hide." I frowned. "At least, I don't think there is. I don't hang out here much."

  "Where do you hang out?" he asked.

  It worried me that he didn't sound very concerned for his son. What kind of parent was he, that he didn't at least get a little upset? I wasn't an expert on parenting, but I would imagine that losing a kid might be stressful for a single dad.

  Even as I thought it, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, tapped the screen, and held it up to his ear. Seconds later, he put it away. "His phone is going straight to voicemail."

  "So he's turned it off?"

  "Either that or he's out of service area. Not hard to do around here."

  That was true. The mountains around Wilding were gorgeous, but they tended to block service once you got out of town. "Does that mean he's out at Red Rock?"

  "You think I should drive out there?"

  I didn't know how to answer that. If I sent Sam out there into danger and Caleb wasn't there, it could get bad. On the other hand, if Caleb was out there, that could be even worse. "Do what you think best, but know that there are...dangers...out tonight. Michaels was right - it's really not safe out here."