Fangs

by Vella Munn

  “That’s wonderful. I bet you’re relieved.”

  “I am.” Summer muttered something Mia couldn’t hear. “Sorry. I was talking to his mother. Wait a sec. Okay, she’s out of the room now. Kendall’s starting to wake up. He doesn’t know why he’s in the hospital.”

  “Let the staff handle that,” Mia suggested. “It doesn’t have to be your job.”

  “I want to be there when it happens. I know. It’ll probably be a gradual process, which means he’s going to need me there a lot, but his mom’s a mess and his dad—he can hardly look at his son.”

  “Their reaction is theirs to deal with. But if you think it would help for me to talk to Carl about his guilt—”

  “What does Kendall’s dad have to feel guilty about?”

  She chuckled. “It goes with the territory. Believe me—that happens. We think we should be able to prevent bad things from happening to those we care about.” She debated then decided to tell Summer where her wisdom came from. “I’d done a number on myself over how the man who raised me died, until Jeff called me on it. He said blame messes people up. I told him the same thing. It doesn’t change anything.”

  “Jeff Julian you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “Interesting. Yeah, maybe Carl would benefit from your experience, but I can’t just ask him.”

  “I don’t expect you to. I was going to come to the hospital tomorrow. If Carl’s there when I am, I’ll try to start the conversation. So how is it going with you? Do you still feel committed to Kendall?”

  “I’m breathing easier now that he’s doing better. He used to be so active. I want—want him like that again.”

  Summer and Kendall had a long road ahead of them, one that wouldn’t exist if the grays hadn’t attacked. Summer understood that nearly as well as Mia did. Eventually Kendall would.

  Mia asked if Summer had been able to convince her boss to let her work part-time. Summer said she had. They probably would have gone on talking if not for the sound of an approaching vehicle. Smiling a private smile, she said goodbye and headed back the way she’d come. Jeff had driven past her house and was heading in her direction. When she waved, he stopped and got out. He was still dressed for work, complete with a light jacket. The fog seemed intent on embracing him.

  “I thought you’d be among the seedlings,” he said. “You’re out there every day, right?”

  “I try to be.” Arms around her waist, she waited for him to join her. “They’re like babies. Need a lot of checking on.”

  He nodded, stepped into her space, slid his hand under her chin, and lifted her head. His mouth brushed hers, prompting her to grab his jacket to keep from swaying.

  “That was exactly what I was hoping for in the way of a greeting,” he said, and kissed her again. She returned his gesture, keeping it going, letting him know how glad she was to see him.

  “Why did you need a kiss?” she asked when they were done, at least for now. “Rough day?”

  “There’s a petition going around demanding that a bounty be put on the grays’ heads.”

  “I’ve heard. Do you think enough people will sign it?”

  “Hard to tell, but if they’re declared criminals, it’ll make my job even harder.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Right now finding them is like looking for a needle in a haystack. My immediate concern is dealing with the media.”

  “That’s still going on?”

  “A reporter from one of those tabloid things grabbed me as I was getting to work this morning. He’d been hanging around the parking lot, waiting for me to show up.”

  Jeff had spent last night with her. Thank goodness the reporter hadn’t known about that. “Did you talk to him?”

  “Briefly. That’s one of the benefits of working for a governmental agency. Regulations dictate what I can and can’t say. I referred him to the department head.”

  “Who doesn’t know half what you do. I’ve had three reporters here. Of course, I told them I had nothing to say, but I’ll be relieved when interest in what happened calms down.”

  “That’s going to take a while. I cringe at the thought of what the tabloid story will be. The sheriff will try to feed him the facts, but—”

  “But he doesn’t know everything we do.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Hopefully no one ever will.”

  She, Jeff, Darick and Niko had agreed to try to keep news of Ice’s existence to themselves. When she’d talked to Summer and Lyle, they’d said they had zero interest in talking to any outsiders. Kendall was in no shape to be interviewed, but Lyle’s, now former, girlfriend was the wild card. Hopefully, if she mentioned Ice, people would take what she said as the unreliable words of a teenager still in shock.

  “I have Friday off,” Jeff said, as they started down a row of trees that barely came to their waists. Beyond the babies, was what Mia called the big boys, more than a dozen beauties at least twenty-five feet tall. They would become three small towns’ official Christmas trees, highlight a couple of malls, and at least two regional retirement centers. All but one had been claimed, and she intended to donate it to the hospital where Kendall was.

  “What do you think?” Jeff continued. “Any chance your boss can get along without you?”

  “Oh, I think so.” She squeezed his hand. “Jeff, I’d like to go hiking. Back up Dark Mountain.”

  He sighed. “You haven’t given up, have you? You keep hoping you’ll see the grays or Ice.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “There’s been no sign of them for a week.”

  “Because they’ve had no reason to, you know.”

  “It’s more than that. They left one area when it became too dangerous for them to stay. Now with Lobo with them, they’ve probably become even more wary.”

  “But Ice—”

  “Honey, there’s nothing keeping Ice and his harem here. Elk are always on the move. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to accept that. We both are.”

  “Not just us. Niko’s still looking for her spirit.”

  Jeff hadn’t said much when Mia told him that the other evening and, respecting her friend’s privacy, Mia had held her explanation to the bare minimum. Earlier today, with her computer work keeping her firmly in reality, she hadn’t been sure she understood Niko’s need for something that wasn’t of this world, but fog and the setting sun was changing her perspective. The tops of the big boys were lost in the growing dark. Before long the same dark would swallow the seedlings. Maybe, if Jeff and she weren’t careful, they’d cease to exist until daylight. She wouldn’t mind, as long as they were together.

  “Where are the mutts?” he asked.

  “Hopefully running off rabbits. Why?”

  “I’m not—” He pointed toward the big boys. “I thought I saw something.”

  “Rabbits don’t bother with hard to chew needles, so the dogs had better not be wasting time—you’re right. There is something.”

  When she first spotted the good-sized canine, she thought it was Banshee, but the shape was wrong. The creature wasn’t large enough to be one of the adult grays and too lean for the puppies. She didn’t question why her thoughts had gone to the grays, because they were never far from her mind.

  “It looks like a wolf,” she said as Jeff’s hold on her hand tightened. “Not exactly but close.”

  “Lobo.”

  Her heart felt as if it was on its way to her throat, and she was starting to sweat. Please, please, please, she silently repeated. Jeff wasn’t armed. There was nothing for them to do but wait, watch, try to understand.

  There. Coming closer. Becoming real.

  Lobo studied them in a way that was all wolf, using his keen senses to educate himself about something he didn’t yet entirely understand. Self-assured, he was in no hurry to complete his education. It would take as long as necessary.

  “We don’t represent danger,” she whispered. “I think you know that. Where are the others?”

&n
bsp; As if answering her, he glanced over his shoulder. When he faced them again, his mouth was parted, revealing fangs with one function. Instead of being afraid, Mia thanked Lobo.

  “What are you doing here?” Jeff asked. “Are you by yourself? Leave our dogs alone, all right.”

  Much as she wanted to assure Jeff that Lobo didn’t represent danger for Banshee or Lady, she couldn’t. Lobo was silent. Unless the dogs smelled him, they wouldn’t know he was around.

  As Lobo’s scrutiny continued, she drew her hand out of Jeff’s and withdrew her cell phone from her jeans’ pocket. Hoping there was enough light to capture the wolf-dog’s image without a flash, she took several pictures. She was debating moving to the right for a better angle when her attention was drawn to something behind and slightly to Lobo’s left. One at a time the four grays eased out from among her Christmas trees and joined their companion.

  “My god,” Jeff whispered. “I don’t… Mia, try to take their picture.”

  The cell had been in danger of slipping out of her grasp. Her fingers shook as she repeatedly touched the camera image.

  “What are you guys doing here?” she asked. There didn’t seem to be anything else to say. In the back of her mind, the possibility that Jeff and she were in danger whispered, but she paid it only scant attention. The grays and Lobo were no more than fifty feet away, their bodies visible beneath their short coats. The puppies were well on their way to adulthood, caution and curiosity ruling over playfulness. She wondered whether Lobo or their mother had assumed the role of teaching them that their lives depended on taking nothing for granted.

  “Listen well,” she told the youngsters. “Learn to hunt.”

  “What about taking after their mother and uncle?” Jeff asked in a whisper. “Do you want them to be ruled by that creed?”

  “I don’t know.” Weighed down by the question, she went back to studying the four-legged visitors. Between the heavy mist, encroaching night, and the animals’ coloring, she was having trouble separating them from their surroundings. It was almost as if they’d been born from her trees.

  “They won’t stay,” Jeff continued.

  “I don’t want them to. The deeper they go into the wilderness, the safer they’ll be.”

  “If they can ignore some humans’ cruelty.”

  “Can you?” she asked the silently watching creatures. “Or is that out of your control?”

  As if in response to her question, the female gray closed her eyes and tilted her head. Maybe she was listening to whatever force ruled her. The male gray did the same, while the puppies watched them intently. Lobo gazed at each adult dog, as if trying to read their minds.

  What’s happening? she longed to ask, but would she understand the explanation?

  “Go,” she made herself say. “We’re grateful for what you’ve given us. We’ll never forget it.” She didn’t have to look at Jeff to believe he shared the same sentiment.

  The female gray nodded and turned, as if to go back the way she’d come. Her puppies followed suit, while the male and Lobo remained where they were.

  “Lobo and Gun are watching out for the others,” Jeff whispered.

  That’s right. The man who’d raised them had called this male Gun. The female was Smoke. Mia wanted to name the puppies.

  Then, like morning fog giving way to sunlight, the canines were gone. Mia held out her hand. Jeff slid his cool fingers into hers. There was nothing left for them to do but go to her place and try to piece everything together. However, she couldn’t make herself move. Surely she couldn’t be waiting for something else to happen.

  The ground seemed to sag as if something was pressing down on it. She’d experienced that sensation once before, when a grizzly had appeared where she was fishing. She’d known the bear was there before she saw it.

  Her lungs started to demand oxygen, but she couldn’t think what to do, because what wasn’t fog after all lightened and took on form. Ice emerged from where the grays and Lobo had gone. The massive bull held his head high, looking down at her and Jeff as if they were beneath his notice. His rack had been impressive from a distance. Up close it defied comprehension. Shaking, Mia held her cell up to her eye with her free hand, centered what filled the screen, and pressed.

  “Him,” Jeff muttered. “It’s him.”

  * * * *

  Two hours later, with a meal she hadn’t tasted behind her, Mia forwarded the picture she’d taken to Niko.

  Yes, Niko texted back almost immediately. Yes!

  Done in, Mia climbed onto Jeff’s lap. The recliner groaned under their combined weight. They didn’t speak.

  Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

  Feral Justice: Punish

  Vella Munn

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  “There’s another dead one.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Hell yes, I’m sure. What do you think I am, stupid?”

  You’re no brain trust, bro. “How many live ones?”

  “I can’t tell. Have to be at least five.”

  “They look okay?”

  “They look squished together.”

  Cursing, Bruce Cimspy made his way down the double row of rabbit cages set on three-foot-high legs. Puppies stared at him through the wire mesh. A few wagged their tails and pressed their noses against the doors’ openings, but most of the dachshunds, Chihuahuas, and Yorkshire terriers kept what distance they could from him.

  The air reeked of piss, dog shit, rotten food, filthy animals and blood. Add all that to the B.O. pouring off Andrew plus the heat, and he nearly barfed. The minute he got out of here he’d be opening a cold one.

  His half-brother, Andrew, stood with his arms folded over a belly that made him look eight months pregnant, peering into one of the cages. Andrew needed a shave, a comb for what hair he had, and a much bigger T-shirt.

  Trying not to think about how many times he’d done this, Bruce followed the line of Andrew’s gaze. A matted Yorkshire bitch lay panting on her side with her swollen teats accounting for maybe a third of her body. Five—or was it six?—still-sightless puppies wrestled with the nipples. If being mauled by sharp claws and teeth hurt, the bitch gave no indication. She paid no more attention to the small inert mound inches from her front legs.

  “Damn,” Bruce muttered. “That’s the third this week.” He looked around but couldn’t remember which cages the other dead puppies had been in. At present there were only four nursing bitches and just two definitely pregnant, which meant there weren’t enough puppies in the pipeline.

  “It’s the heat,” Andrew observed. “We always lose more in summer.”

  “Not this many.”

  “Whatever.”

  Whatever was Andrew’s response every time he didn’t have the words to hold up his end of a discussion. Sometimes that pissed Bruce off, but today he was too hot to care.

  Even though he’d vowed to keep his mind on the logistics of having enough dogs to sell, Bruce couldn’t stop himself from looking around. The cages blocked his view of the open land beyond the operation. That made him uneasy.

  Again.

  Not for the first time he wondered if years of booze had done something to his brain cells. Used to be he had no trouble staying on task—which mostly meant finding ways to make money. Recently, however, he’d sleepwalked through the days.

  Until the morning a couple of weeks ago when he was hit with the suspicion that he was being watched as he walked toward the cages. He’d been so hung-over he’d nearly fallen down trying to make sense of things. When the feeling returned the next day, he’d gotten out his binoculars and checked things out as best he could, but hadn’t seen anything beyond dry grasses, shrubs and the ever-present buzzards.

  When he’d mentioned the creepy feeling to Andrew, Andrew had laughed at him. A few days later he’d admitted to the same thing. If animal control had them under surveillance—hell, that would be the end to things. Maybe it was those crazy PET
A fanatics thinking they had a right to rob him of his ability to pay the bills.

  Wondering if he could order whoever it was—if someone was out there—off his property, he stepped away from the cages and shielded his eyes.

  “What are you doing?” Andrew asked.

  “Don’t worry about me. Just do your job.”

  “I do mine, and yours.”

  On the verge of telling his brother to shut his mouth, he tried to focus on what might be movement under one of the oaks. They kept a baseball bat handy for when a mutt needed to be put down. He wished he had his hands on it now. If something like a cougar or a coyote charged, he’d smack it between the eyes.

  “You see something?”

  He took a few more steps, only to stop because the sun was scorching the top of his mostly bald head. His eyes started burning, and his arm grew tired, but he waited out the better part of a minute. Nothing moved, at least he didn’t think it did.

  “No,” he finally said. “Nothing.”

  “Better not be.”

  Angry at himself for getting spooked, he returned to the cages. He should unhook the wire closure and remove the dead pup, but then he’d have to take it over to the pit at the back of the property—with the sun pounding down. Besides, he hated touching the filthy, flea-invaded creatures. Sighing, he noticed that the chewed-on plastic water bowl—how many damn bowls had the mutts destroyed?—in the cage to the right of the one Andrew and he were standing near had been knocked over. Andrew held the hose but wasn’t doing anything with it. Just like Andrew to not see what needed to be done.

  Damn it, why had he gone into business with the idiot?

  Because Andrew had had the initial idea to get some purebred bitches and start breeding them.

  “We’re out of dog food,” Andrew announced.

  Then pull it out of your ass. “I told you to buy some.”

  “How? The credit card’s maxed out.”

  Andrew’s unsurprising revelation deflated Bruce. It wasn’t the first time a card they used for the business’s expenses had reached its limit. Tomorrow or the next day he’d load up a dozen puppies and take them to a pet shop in another county. As soon as Andrew got back with cash in hand—no accepting checks in this business—he’d make a dent in the credit card bill.