by Kelly Meding
I nearly asked why not before I remembered the selfish part. “So, what do you want in return for said information?”
“I find the work you do fascinating, Marshal Harrison, and I quite enjoyed our previous partnership. I also find you fascinating with your dual nature, and I am rarely so enticed these days. My general assistance comes with a simple request: I wish to, as they say in the vernacular, tag along.”
“You want a ride-along on a missing werewolf case?”
“I do.”
“Sweet Iblis, but you vampires are weird.”
Tennyson smiled. “I can easily say the same about yourself and the creatures you associate with. You went above and beyond helping me save the kidnapped vampires, and while my children were sacrificed, you also sacrificed a great deal of yourself to your work, and I admire that. As I’ve previously said, I have never found myself in the position of admiring a djinn before, and I find the experience unique. I would like to continue our professional relationship.”
Jaxon is going to shit himself if I say yes.
But as Tennyson himself admitted, he was five centuries old and he knew things. He wasn’t going to give his vast knowledge away for nothing, not even permission to tag along while we investigated. And then his words came back to me.
“You said your general assistance in exchange for the ride-along.” I crossed my arms and dared hold his gaze. “What about contributing your own personal resources and contacts, such as an audience with Danu? What will that cost?”
His lips twitched. “You are learning, young djinn.”
“Figuring out people is part of my job.”
“For additional information such as my contacts and resources, I may request small favors in exchange.”
“Favors from whom?”
“As you are the only person on your team who does not appear to despise me, they will likely come from you, or those you can influence on my behalf.”
I huffed. “You know, part of being on a team is pooling your resources for the good of the job.”
“And as the skin-walker is fond of pointing out, I am not part of your team. I am, as you might say, a civilian.”
“A civilian with information we could use.”
He tilted his head, his expression bordering on smug without tipping over. And the bastard had every right to be smug, because he could potentially help us, and he knew it. As I internally debated his involvement, a rather sickening thought popped in my head:
What would Julius do?
In the past, that was my go-to question when I had to make a difficult decision regarding the team. And in the past, the answer rarely steered me wrong. But Julius had betrayed the team and died a reanimated head. I needed to trust my own intuition. Listen to my gut.
My gut said Tennyson’s future favors might give me an ulcer, but they would probably be worth it. His intel and assistance had been beneficial thus far, and he had yet to abuse my trust or my faith in him.
“Jaxon is going to murder me,” I said.
Tennyson’s lips twitched. “Is that a yes to my proposal?”
“Not yet. First, how did you get out of jail?”
“I may have made a very sizable monetary donation to both local and state law enforcement in exchange for the charges being dropped. No humans were actively injured, and I also offered monetary compensation to every person held captive in their home in Myrtle’s Acres.”
“You bought your way out of it?”
“I believe the technical term is bribed,” he said with a smirk. “Wealth has its perks. Besides, your judiciary system is ill-equipped to not only try a vampire in court, but to enforce their judgments upon me.”
He wasn’t wrong about that, which is why the Para-Marshals deal with paranormal crimes, not human police.
Dealt with. Whatever. I loved my job and needed to believe we’d come back from this and function as a unit again.
“Okay—maybe don’t mention that to the others.”
“I will restrain myself.”
“Appreciate that,” I said dryly. “Can you wait out here while I break the news to my team?” I asked. “I don’t want to piss Gideon off by inviting you inside.”
Tennyson quirked one eyebrow, probably because he didn’t get to witness the fallout of my decision. I wasn’t entirely sure it was the smartest move, but I had to trust my instincts here. We needed every extra brain and set of eyes on this case if we were going to find the missing werewolves. And we did work well together.
I went back inside the cabin and found all four people staring back at me with expectant expressions. Well, three were expectant, and Jaxon looked irritated. “Why is he here?” Jaxon asked.
“He wants to help,” I replied, straightening my spine. “And I said he could join our investigation.”
“Are you kidding me?” He threw his hands up. “Shiloh, why?”
“Because he’s got five hundred years of experience behind him, and he has ties to stronger paranormal beings than us that could be incredibly useful. He got me an audience with Brighid last week, remember?”
“He did?” Chandra closed the few feet of space between us, her dark eyes lighting up. “You’ve actually met the goddess?”
“Yes, and she’s a haughty, sex-crazed bitch, but she gave us useful information while we were tracking the necromancer.”
“She’s the goddess of fertility, of course she loves sex. I’d do almost anything for a face-to-face with my mother goddess.”
“I hope you mean that, because Tennyson’s favors will require something in repayment.”
“Of course they will,” Jaxon said with a snort. “That creature doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive.”
“It’s part of his nature, okay?” I snapped. “Vampires don’t do favors for nothing—they don’t have the same altruistic nature as the rest of us. He has nothing at stake in finding the werewolves, so he won’t interfere or be a burden. All he wants to do is be part of this, and like I said, potential useful info in his head.”
“And stay close to you.” Jaxon’s narrowed eyes and tight fists clearly spoke to his feelings on that. “If he hurts you or anyone else in this room, I will drive a stake through his heart without hesitation.” He doubled over, hands flying to his temples. “Get out of my head!”
“Tennyson!”
Apologies, Shiloh. I merely told the skin-walker he has nothing to fear from me.
Maybe wait and tell him in person. Your voice is hard to handle.
I didn’t get an answer.
“So vampires are telepathic,” Chandra said. “Fascinating.”
“Some are, some aren’t,” I replied. “I guess different Masters develop different abilities as they get older, and that’s one of his tricks. But if you aren’t used to it, it’s like someone talking through a bullhorn right into your ear.”
“That sounds awful.”
“It fucking is awful,” Jaxon said. “He better not do that again unless it’s life or death.”
“Can we focus, or what?” Novak asked. “The vampire can wait until we’re done here.”
“You’re right,” I said.
“I must protest this,” Gideon said. The young wolf had been shockingly quiet for a while, but his glare for Tennyson hadn’t eased. “Alpha Kennedy must be informed of the vampire’s arrival and inclusion in this investigation.”
“Can’t you wait for a couple of hours? What if your Alpha changes his mind and makes us all leave? We’ll never find your missing brethren without a thorough search, and Tennyson can sense different kinds of magic than the rest of us. Please.”
Gideon held my gaze, his eyes steely, before nodding once. “Continue.”
“Thank you. Jaxon, how are you doing with fingerprints?” Even though I’d handed the task to him without thought, I still didn’t know he was any good at lifting prints.
“I’ve got plenty, and so far all appear to be werewolf,” he replied, “but I won’t know whose they are until I
can get into a human town, find some Wi-Fi and send them to the Registry. And I found ’em all over the place, so it doesn’t look like anything got wiped down.”
Werewolf fingerprints were remarkably different than other humanoid species, such as vampires, djinn or, well, humans. The friction ridges were spaced wider apart and the whorls went sideways instead of vertical. All this told us was that no one else except wolves had been in this cabin recently—or at least, no one except wolves had touched anything.
It was once more pointing to the theory the two Chandlers had simply vanished into thin air.
“Would you like to see the next home?” Gideon asked, his tone a bit less friendly now that he was helping us hide Tennyson from the Alpha for a few hours.
“Yes, please,” Chandra replied. “It’s unlikely we’ll find anything new at the other homes, but it’s worth investigating.”
Outside, Tennyson was waiting in the shade of the porch, his expression benign. Novak and Jaxon barely glanced at him on the way to the Jeep, but Chandra approached and introduced herself. Tennyson did the same and gave a polite, old-school bow.
“I have met a few vampires in my time,” Chandra said, “but never a Master of a Line, and certainly not one who knows my mother goddess.”
Tennyson glanced at me, and I mouthed, “Brighid,” at him.
“Ah yes, the goddess of warfare,” he replied. “I didn’t realize she created the moon witch line.”
“She did, and while I’ve heard her voice in my head at the full moon several times, I’ve never been graced with her presence.”
“Consider yourself lucky, witch. Brighid is clever and not without her sharp edges.”
“I have edges of my own, vampire.”
With Tennyson and Chandra standing beside each other, another option became crystal clear and super-obvious. “If Brighid is your mother goddess,” I said, “wouldn’t she be interested in knowing the children one of her daughters created have possibly been murdered?”
Chandra’s lips parted. “It’s possible. Perhaps she’d know or be able to learn something for us.”
“Remember: Brighid’s help always comes at a price,” Tennyson said. “Speaking with Shiloh was my favor, as we were seeking my children. If you ask this of her, she’ll require something of you.”
And that price would be steep. I shoved away the memory of Tennyson kneeling between Brighid’s spread legs with his teeth in her thigh. Apparently vampire bites near the groin give goddesses a super-max orgasm, but goddess blood tastes like pig shit to vampires. Tennyson had done me a big favor last week.
But that wasn’t the only problem.
“Is she still located in Newark, Delaware, or did she move?” I asked Tennyson.
“She moves frequently, as she has a distaste for screwing the same human twice,” he replied. “I would have to reach out to my contacts in order to find her new home.”
“Can you do that sometime soon?”
“Certainly. I can do it in the car on the way to our next location.” He tapped the side of his head, and yeah, telepathy was going to be a big asset for us going forward. Jaxon and Novak could hate it all they wanted, but Tennyson was useful.
Tennyson put his hood up, and after a brief argument, Jaxon drove with Novak shotgun. I sat in the middle in the back seat, which put me in a great position to get annoyed glares from Jaxon in the rearview mirror. Gideon led us down another quiet street to a yellow trailer that had seen better days. A few kids played in one yard, and they stopped to watch our crew go inside. Tennyson stayed in the car to make his brain-calls.
The Drake house was in the same condition as the Chandler house: everything left in such a way that the two people who lived here could have simply vanished during the Revelation. Someone had even left a half-eaten sandwich on the counter. And Jaxon once again found only werewolf fingerprints.
“Brighid is not currently on the mortal plane,” Tennyson reported when we returned to the Jeep. “I have a contact who will advise me when she returns.”
“Thanks for trying,” I said.
On the drive to the Riggs house, I studied the yards and roads. For such a tight-knit community, no one seemed to be around. Had Alpha Kennedy issued some sort of directive that everyone stay inside while we toured the lands, so we couldn’t interact with them? Possible, but what about the kids near the Drakes’ house?
Maybe this Pack was simply wary of strangers. I’d seen very few vehicles around, and our Jeep wasn’t exactly subtle. At the Riggs home, I asked Gideon, “Will we be permitted to speak to the neighbors? Ask if anyone saw anything suspicious?”
“We have already done so,” Gideon replied. “No one had anything remarkable to tell us, which is why nothing was noted in our reports.”
That felt like a dodge. “Well, I am a trained investigator, so maybe I can help them recall something new? Sometimes the tiniest nugget of information can unravel a whole case and reveal answers.”
He hedged a moment longer, before nodding his assent. “I’ll take you next door.”
“Thank you.”
Tennyson was waiting in the Jeep, and I felt his eyes following me to the house next door. Gideon rang the bell, and it took several long moments before an elderly woman opened the door.
“Hello, young master Gideon,” she said in a paper-thin voice. “And who is this pretty young lady?”
“My name is Shiloh Harrison,” I said. “I’m part of a team that’s doing an independent investigation into the disappearances of your Pack members, and I was hoping to ask you a few questions about your neighbors.”
She looked at Gideon, who nodded. “I suppose, but only a few minutes. I exhaust myself quite easily these days.”
“Mrs. Aaron is one of our Pack elders,” Gideon said as we stepped into a very tidy home. “We will be celebrating her one hundred twelfth birthday next month.”
“Congratulations,” I said.
“Yes, yes.” Mrs. Aaron eased her frail body into a recliner, then put a knit blanket over her lap. “Not sure I’ll be any use to you. Didn’t see a thing.”
“I’m more interested in the Riggses as people, ma’am.” I sat on the couch across from her, while Gideon lingered near the door. “Were you friendly with them?”
“Of course, we’re all friendly with each other. We’re Pack.”
Okay, not direct enough. “Did you speak to them often? Share meals?”
“Laura brought me freshly baked cookies every week. She was such a nice young lady. Such a shame she and Peter couldn’t whelp a pup.”
That phrasing conjured up uncomfortable images of a woman birthing a litter of puppies. I cleared my head.
“Yes, I heard that all the couples who disappeared from Pack land had trouble conceiving. Is that unusual for werewolves?”
“Oh, my, yes. When I was a girl and first mated, you couldn’t go a lunar cycle without someone you knew giving birth. Every mated couple had multiple children. But the young ones these days.” Her dark eyes went distant. “Fewer pups hurts the Pack in the long run. There’ll be too many elderly to care for and not enough young ones to do it.”
“Yes, I can see how that could be concerning. Alpha Kennedy doesn’t seem to think it’s a problem worth exploring through human medicine, though.”
“No, no, we don’t mess with those things. If Danu blesses a couple with a pup, it’s because they deserve to raise him or her. Those children are blessings.”
Except this Danu didn’t seem up on current events with her werewolves—or she was, and she simply didn’t care. And in the meantime, this “religious objection” to medicine was going to wipe the werewolves out, if they didn’t look into it . . .
Something struck me.
What if the infertility is medical? Maybe a sabotage of some kind? Keep the wolves segregated and clinging to their old-school beliefs, until those beliefs killed them off?
“I understand,” I said. “Just one more question, Mrs. Aaron, and then I’ll leave you to r
est. Are there any other young mated couples who have been trying for children and who aren’t conceiving?”
“You could try the Mastersons. Been mated three years now, and those poor folks have yet to conceive. Gideon knows where they live.”
Gideon looked like he’d rather chew glass than take me to see the Mastersons, but it was a lead worth exploring, and I told him as much outside. “Have you done any sort of blood tests on these infertile couples?” I asked.
“No, we don’t rely on those human methods,” he replied. “You know this.”
“Yeah, I do, and I also had a bit of an epiphany just now.”
“About what?”
I crooked my finger at him, and we returned to the Riggs house, where my people were finishing up finding absolutely nothing useful.
“How old was the oldest couple taken from Pack lands here?” I asked Gideon.
“Twenty-five. They were all in their early twenties.”
“What about the Andersons, Barrows, and Porters?”
“They were all in their early thirties. Established professionals.”
“What are you thinking, Shiloh?” Jaxon asked.
“It’s just a hunch based on what the neighbor said,” I replied. “She told me in her day, every mated pair had multiple children, and she’s over a hundred. That’s several generations ago, and now you have these seven barren pairs, plus she said there are more in the Pack. Young without kids, even after trying.”
“Children are our lifeblood,” Gideon said. “We cannot reproduce with humans or forced wolves, so without offspring, our species dies off.”
“Exactly. So what if someone is doing this on purpose, either with a pathogen or magic?”
“You believe someone could be causing this infertility?” Chandra asked.
“It’s possible. I mean, sure, werewolves helped us win World War II in only a few weeks, but in the last thirty years or so, a lot of politicians have based their platforms on being anti-Para, anti-vampire, anti-werewolf. Taunting the public with how easy it would be for them to take over and murder us all in our sleep.”
“So they kill us off slowly,” Gideon said with a deep, dangerous edge to his voice. “Invisibly.”
