I didn’t need to inhale any more of the odor to know what we were up against. “Bile,” I whispered. “And decayed flesh.” I slipped my silver bracelet around my fist and tore open my pouch to retrieve my knife.
“It’s a cadaver.” Rolf held out his arms to shield me. “I’ve smelled this before, but never as a—” He stopped himself.
“Rolf,” I said in the tone I used when I needed all of the dogs at Barktacular to follow my instructions. “Run back to the frat house and get my friends Cassandra and Gretchen.”
“No can do.” Rolf’s voice was steady. “I’m not leaving you.”
The smell was getting stronger and stronger. My eyes burned like there were a thousand onions being sliced. I blinked back tears and tried to focus. Did I have enough weapons to protect us? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t a trained fighter like Cassandra. The only time I’d ever slain vampires was as a dog.
A hellhound. That was what the medical examiner had called me. The only surefire way I could protect Rolf and myself would be if I shifted. But that would mean breaking the first law of shifting: never transform in front of a Static.
“Did you hear that?” Rolf asked, seconds before I picked up the sounds of twigs cracking in the dark.
“Yes.” I tightened my hold on the switchblade. Did I have time to call Cassandra for help? Would she even hear her phone ring in that noisy frat party?
“Kate, close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Just do it,” said Rolf. “I know what’s out there and I know how to fight it, but you need to trust me.”
“I’m not closing my eyes. You close your eyes.” No way was I letting Mr. Hollywood tell me what to do. Especially not when we were seconds away from being murdered by vampires.
“Dammit, Kate! Why won’t you listen?”
I had to shift. There was no other way. Even if it meant breaking shifter law. What would happen to me if I broke it, anyway? Grandpa had never told me. I unclipped my hip-pouch and it fell to the ground, but then I remembered my tights. Shoot! They’d taken me five minutes to put on. If I shifted while I was still wearing them, I could get tangled up.
“Kate! Close your eyes!” Rolf shouted again.
“I’m not going to—” I started to say, but I didn’t have the chance to finish my sentence.
The smell of death arrived, and when I saw who walked out of the trees and into the light, I panicked.
“Mr. Sherwood?” I squeezed the silver bracelet and prayed. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Cabo.”
Chapter 24
Two years ago, when Mr. Sherwood had hired me to work at Barktacular, he’d smelled like dog fur and Old Spice. Tan lines on his face revealed a lifetime of sunny walks to the dog park with all of the pooches he’d cared for as La Jolla’s preeminent doggy-daycare provider. But now, instead of smelling like a dog’s best friend, Mr. Sherwood reeked of decay. His wrinkles were gone, and his skin was as smooth as a runway model’s. Mr. Sherwood grinned and revealed a brilliantly white smile. “Hello, Kate. I’m surprised to see you here this late in the evening.”
I hid the knife behind Rolf’s back and stepped forward so that we stood side by side. “I was at a party,” I said carefully. “My friend’s walking me home to my dorm.”
“That’s a good lad.” Mr. Sherwood nodded his approval. “Especially with recent events. That was an excellent article you wrote for The Triton, Kate. Congratulations on landing the front page.”
“Thank you, sir.” My heart beat so hard, I was sure he could hear it. And since he was a vampire, he probably could. It probably made him thirsty.
“I cut my vacation to Mexico short to take care of business,” Mr. Sherwood continued. “I’m just walking back from a friend’s house.” Mr. Sherwood looked Rolf right in the eye. “You see that this young lady gets to her dorm room safe and sound. She’s a valued employee.” He smiled at me and winked. “Even if she’s only at Barktacular for another week.”
“You can count on it.” Rolf’s voice was steady.
Mr. Sherwood clasped his hands behind his back. “See you in the romper room, Kate.”
“See you,” I called after him. I didn’t move one muscle until the stench lessened, and I was sure he’d walked away.
Rolf spun around and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Are you okay?” He shook me gently. “Tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” I swallowed hard. “But I need to text my friends.” I thrust the knife in his hands and bent down to pick up my pouch.
“You had a knife?”
I nodded as I tried again and again to wake up my phone. My hands shook so badly that I couldn’t get the password to work. Once I was I finally logged in, I froze. “Wait,” I said aloud. “I can’t tell them.”
“Can’t tell them what?” Rolf looked at me intently. When I didn’t answer, he prompted me. “You said that you smelled decayed flesh. Is that what you were going to tell them?”
“Yes. I mean no. That sounds crazy.” I snapped the pouch around my waist. “But you smelled it too.” I looked up at Rolf, noticing how his hair flopped over his forehead now, instead of being gelled in place. “What made you say that you smelled cadaver?”
Rolf blinked and looked away. “I—”
“Kate? Are you there?” Familiar voices called. “Kate, we’re sorry we left you at the party. Come back home with us.”
“Those are my friends.” I pushed the silver bracelet back up my wrist. “They might need me.” I held out my hand for the switchblade.
Rolf clicked the knife shut and gave it back to me. “What’s your last name?” His voice quavered. “You never told me your last name.”
“Canus. My name’s Kate Canus.”
“Oh my god, I’m so stupid.” Rolf grabbed my wrist. “Kate, I’ve been—”
“Oh, goodie!” Gretchen squealed. “We found you.” She and Cassandra stalked down the path like runways models in their high heels.
“We thought you might be at your dorm room by now.” Cassandra looked sideways at Gretchen. “That would have meant that the two of us would have needed to ride home together without you.”
“And you know we’re just barely getting along as it is.” Gretchen laughed and threw her arm around Cassandra’s shoulder.
“You’re drunk.” Cassandra shrugged her off. “I thought you said you wouldn’t touch American beer.”
Gretchen wagged her finger in front of Cassandra’s face. “But I didn’t say anything about vodka.”
“I have to go.” I broke free of Rolf’s grasp. “It was nice meeting you. I think I might actually be interviewing your mom tomorrow, for the school paper. I recognized her in that family picture you showed me.”
“Wait!” he said.
“Good luck with your new job, Rolf.” I linked my arms with Cassandra’s and Gretchen’s and led them down the path back to the frat house and to the parking lot, where the Dodge Durango waited for us. Rolf didn’t follow.
“He was cute.” Gretchen giggled. “Did we interrupt something?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why would that be ridiculous?” Cassandra asked. “It looked like he was walking you home. Maybe we did interrupt something. If so, I’m really sorry.”
“I already told you,” I said, trying not to snarl. “Nothing happened between Rolf and me. He already has a girlfriend, or a dream girl or something. The guy’s got his head in the clouds.”
“American men are so weird.” Gretchen leaned heavily on my arm, as the high heels were giving her trouble. “I’ll be glad when I’m back in Germany and can hang out with people who don’t think that vodka and Sprite is a good idea.” She stopped in her tracks. “Wait. Don’t talk about vodka.”
“Nobody’s talking about vodka except for you.” Cassandra’s tone dripped annoyance.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Gretchen grabbed her stomach and hurled onto the sidewalk.”
“Gross
!” Cassandra jumped back just in time to avoid being sprayed.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t so lucky. Puke splattered across my tights.
“Sorry about that,” said Gretchen in between heaves. “So sorry.”
“That’s okay.” I stepped out of my flats and peeled off the hosiery. “These things were causing problems anyway.” I tossed them in the first trashcan we passed.
We arrived at Slayer Academy half an hour later and sent Gretchen straight to the shower. Cassandra didn’t tell her dad what had happened, and Natalie and the second-years were gone on a stakeout, monitoring Professor Radcliffe. Van might have had some hint that one of us had come home drunk because he turned off the hot water heater after Gretchen had gone twenty minutes over her allotted shower time. We could hear her screams all over the house. Cassandra and I were in the kitchen eating bowls of ice cream with Max, who had come home from his late-night surfing.
“You all had a good time on your night out, I take it?” Van gave us a knowing look.
“Some of us had more fun than others.” Cassandra pointed at me with her spoon. “This one here met a cute boy.”
“He’s not cute and he wasn’t a boy.” I dug my spoon into my scoop of vanilla.
“He most definitely was cute,” said Cassandra. “Jake said that Rolf was one of his oldest friends.”
“Who’s Jake?” Max asked.
“Yeah.” Van brought out the almost empty carton of ice cream from the freezer and ate the rest of it without bothering to get a bowl. “Who’s Jake?”
“This sophomore I met.” Cassandra’s cheeks turned pink. “He was full of himself, but kind of fun.”
“Van?” I asked, thinking about Mr. Sherwood. “Has there been a report from Natalie and the second-years?”
“Nope.” Van polished off the last bite of ice cream. “I mean, yes, I have heard from them, but no, they didn’t find anything suspicious. Professor Radcliffe took his dog for a short walk this evening and has spent the rest of the night inside his house reading in the living room.”
“That’s good, I guess.” I put my dishes in the sink. “I think it’s my turn for the shower next. Would you mind switching the hot water back on?”
That night when I snuggled under my covers on the top bunk, I lay wide awake listening to Gretchen snore. What the hell had happened tonight? No matter how I figured it, nothing made sense. Why could a Static like Rolf smell the vampire too? Natalie and Van had told me point blank the other night that slayers couldn’t smell vampires. My special ability was because I was a shifter.
That meant that I couldn’t tell the Xanders about what I’d learned tonight. There was no way to explain why I suspected that Mr. Sherwood was a vampire without revealing my true nature. I was a paranormal being. They might want to slay me too.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to make the questions go away. I fell asleep like that, well after midnight, curled up into a ball of worry.
Chapter 25
The next morning, I slipped out of Slayer Academy before anyone else was up and caught the bus to campus. A marine layer rolled in from the ocean and blanketed La Jolla with mist, making the November day chilly. I zipped up my hoodie and put my thumbs through the hobo-pockets, grateful for the extra warmth.
I felt like a fraud. For the past five years, all I’d wanted was two things: to find a new home and to slay vampires. Now I had both, but I was betraying everything Slayer Academy stood for. If I really wanted to destroy vampires, I would hop off this bus and charge up the hill. I’d knock on Natalie’s office door and demand to talk to her. Mr. Sherwood was free to roam the streets of La Jolla right now because I was too cowardly to reveal the truth: I knew he was deadly because I’d smelled his evil scent.
I sighed, resting my head against the window. Mom hadn’t raised me to be a coward. She’d shown me every day with her words and actions what it meant to be brave. She’d put food on the table and a roof over my head all by herself. It didn’t matter how tired she’d been after a long shift at the hospital, Mom had always found time for me. She’d tucked me in at night, woken me with a smile the next morning, and come to every cross-country meet she could, standing on the sidelines and cheering her head off when I’d crossed the finish line. Mom had strengthened me with her love and wisdom.
There was nobody to root for me now or to tell me what I should do. There was nobody I could trust completely, except for Charlie and Melvin, and they were dogs.
The bus approached campus now, and I didn’t have much more time to think. Should I break shifter law and tell the Xanders the truth so that Mr. Sherwood could be destroyed? Or would Mr. Sherwood’s future victims weigh on my conscience for eternity?
There must be another solution that I hadn’t thought of yet—like slaying Mr. Sherwood myself. The idea hit me like a lightning bolt. As a human slayer, I needed a team behind me as well as official approval from Slayer Council in Munich to take down a vampire. But as a dog—correction—a hellhound, I didn’t need anyone.
I’d slain two vampires before by myself. I’d ripped their throats to shreds. Could I do it again? Could I slay someone whom I’d known for two years—someone who’d been kind to me? I hugged my backpack, which rested in my lap. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
The bus pulled to a stop on Gillman Drive, and I got off. I still had twenty minutes before my interview with Sergeant Byrd at the newspaper office and a ten-minute walk to get there.
Thinking about Jill Byrd made me think of her son Rolf last night. How come Rolf had been able to smell Mr. Sherwood’s death scent like me? I took out my phone and googled Rolf’s name. His award-winning short film, Desperate Dawn, was the first thing that came up. That was him? Rolf was the director? Cassandra told me it had a cult following in the horror film community. There were two sequels, Werewolf Rising and Blood Moon, which completed the trilogy and were often screened together at indie movie houses at midnight.
When Blood Moon had come out last year, Entertainment Weekly had called Rolf “the freshest face to come out of Hollywood since Robert Rodriguez.” I had no idea who Robert Rodriguez was, but that sounded impressive. The L.A. Times had written, “In the face of admissions scandals that have rocked the very foundation of USC, Rolf Byrd proves that their film school still cultivates talent of the highest caliber and that true merit will always rise to the top.” After reading The L.A. Times article, I felt slightly ashamed for my rudeness last night. Maybe I shouldn’t have disparaged Rolf’s belief in Hollywood endings considering he seemed to have earned one himself due to his talent and hard work. But none of the articles said anything about Rolf having supernatural vampire sniffing abilities, so they really didn’t help me much.
A whopping 40,000 people followed Rolf’s Instagram, and I could see why. Every single picture showed one beautiful person or setting after another. Rolf’s sister, on pointe shoes dancing on stage. Rolf and his uncle leaning against the hood of a classic car. Rolf himself gazing back at the camera with a serious expression. Gosh, he was handsome. Why hadn’t I noticed that before? His dark brown hair swept off to the side, and his jawline was razor sharp. Rolf’s muscles weren’t bulky, but the way his T-shirts stretched around his biceps indicated that he worked out. My eyes lingered on the picture of him on the beach in Hawaii a little longer than was necessary.
In fact, I was so distracted that I almost walked straight into Joshua.
“Whoa there,” he said, jumping away in time. Watch where you’re—” Joshua paused when he realized who I was. “Kate?”
I turned off my phone and looked up. “Joshua? Sorry about that. I should look where I’m going.”
“Aren’t you headed the wrong direction?” Joshua pointed to the English department. “Class is that way.”
“I know, but I have to skip today because I have an important assignment for The Triton.”
“Oh. Do you want me take notes for you?”
“That’s really nice of you, but no thanks. I already emailed
the teacher. I’m all set.” I stashed my phone in my backpack. “I better get going or I’ll be late.”
“Yeah. Okay. Well, good luck with your interview.” Joshua turned to go but then looked back over his shoulder at me. “Be sure to check your email. The results of your DNA kit should be coming soon.”
“Cool. Thanks.” I waved at him and hurried away. Here Joshua was still being nice to me, even after I’d brushed him off. I guiltily thought back to the picture of Rolf splashing in the ocean with his sister. If Joshua had had Rolf’s six-pack abs, would I have been so quick to dump him? Maybe not, but there was no way of knowing.
My cheeks turned pink as I saw Sergeant Byrd standing in front of The Triton office at the exact moment I was picturing her son on the hot Hawaiian beach. “Hi, Sergeant Byrd. Thank you for meeting me today.” I held out my hand to shake. “I’m Kate Canus.”
She took my hand in her own and looked me in the eye. “Hi, Kate,” she said in a warm tone of voice. “Please, call me ‘Jill.’ It’s nice to finally meet you.” Jill wore charcoal gray slacks and a crisp, white blouse. Her brown hair was in a ponytail like mine was.
I pulled off my hood and took my thumbs out of my hobo pockets, suddenly realizing how unprofessional I looked. I used my key to open the door to The Triton, and we walked inside. We were the only people in the building. Most of the reporters didn’t arrive until after ten.
“I need a moment to set up.” I walked to the conference table in the corner and offered her a chair. “Would you like coffee? There’s a pod machine.”
“No thanks.” Jill took a seat but didn’t take her eyes off me.
I sat next to her and took out my computer, phone, and notebook. The computer had my questions, the phone was for recording the interview, and the notebook was for jotting down observations about the officer’s demeanor. “Okay,” I said, fiddling with my phone. “First I need to tell you that I’m recording this conversation and need your permission to do so.”
Secret Shifter Page 18
