by Anne Bishop
Kowalski came around the side of the two-family house, dressed for work. “Lieutenant?”
“Call me if I can help,” Pete said.
“I will.”
Unspoken warnings from Pete and Eve. Did they know something about Sierra’s disappearance, or had they observed something this morning that made them cautious? Monty went down the steps and met Kowalski on the walkway. “Karl, you should go to the station, see if there is anything we need to know before we start the day’s shift.”
“Should I look for anything in particular?”
Monty hesitated, but only for a moment. “A yellow taxi picked up my sister and her girls around daybreak on Earthday. I might need to talk to the driver after I speak to my mother.”
“I can make some calls, but you might want to ask Simon first. I didn’t see the taxi, but I saw him in the customer parking lot that morning. He might have seen something.” Kowalski hesitated. “If Sierra had been coerced in any way, I think the whole neighborhood would have known about it.”
“I know.” Simon might be upset with Sissy, but he wouldn’t have allowed her to be taken against her will.
“I’d better get moving if I’m going to catch the bus,” Kowalski said.
Monty saw the lights go on in Howling Good Reads and A Little Bite. “Tell Captain Burke I’ll be in after I see a Wolf about a girl.”
• • •
Simon didn’t flip the Closed sign, but he unlocked HGR’s front door before returning to the counter where he’d begun sorting the book requests from the terra indigene settlements the Courtyard supplied with human goods. According to Toland publishers, an entire warehouse of stock had been destroyed in the storm, and shipments of paper had been reduced by half.
No reason to doubt the statements, and he wasn’t about to accept damaged goods. Which meant he really needed to see what Intuit and terra indigene publishing companies might have available. He looked up as Lieutenant Montgomery walked into the store.
Before he dealt with books, he had to deal with Montgomery’s pack.
“My sister left yesterday morning,” Montgomery said. The hand he set on the counter kept trying to curl into a fist.
Tension, not aggression, Simon decided. “Yes. She and her pups left in a taxi.”
“Did you notice the license plate by any chance? Did anyone overhear where she was going?”
“She bought tickets for a bus that was going east.”
“Do you know where?”
“Not yet.” Simon studied Montgomery, who looked a bit . . . trampled. “Meg was itchy because of the Sierra, so we kept watch on Watersday night. I asked Air and her kin to follow the Sierra and let me know where she makes a new den.”
“Thank you.” Montgomery breathed out a sigh. “I worry about her.”
“She is pack.” Simon fiddled with the stack of requests. “But if her pups are going to survive, she needs a new pack now. One that doesn’t include that Cyrus.”
“I know.”
Montgomery sounded sad, so Simon added, “I will tell you where she dens.”
The human shook his head. “No. Jimmy will ask. If I know and tell him I don’t, the lie will cause hard feelings between us—more than there are now. If I or my mother know how to find her, it’s possible something will be said that will give away Sissy’s new location. Maybe something Lizzy overhears and repeats without realizing the significance. And then Jimmy is on Sissy’s doorstep again.” He rubbed his forehead. “But she’ll need to have the ration books forwarded to her new address, and that will leave a paper trail.”
“Should I tell Air to stop following?” He was having trouble tracking this human logic. Montgomery wanted to know and didn’t want to know. Well, he wouldn’t ask the Elementals to stop following, because, no matter what Montgomery wanted, Meg needed to know what happened to the Sierra.
“No.” Montgomery gave him a strained smile. “I would feel easier if someone I trust knows where she is.”
It pleased him to know he was trusted with helping Montgomery look after the human’s family.
“Well,” Montgomery said. “I need to talk to my mama.”
Simon nodded. “She was awake around the time the taxi left. She might already know about the Sierra.”
• • •
“Look, bitch.” Jimmy used the voice and attitude that cowed just about everyone—especially women he wasn’t trying to charm into bed or out of some money. “I’m here to see my mama, so get your skanky ass out of my way.”
The woman, wearing a black dress that looked like a costume out of a creepy movie, continued to block his ability to get more than a step inside the consulate. Then she smiled, revealing fangs, and the lower half of her body, dress and all, changed to smoke.
Fuck! One of those vampires.
“Mama!” Jimmy shouted. “Mama!”
His mother didn’t come rushing to see what he wanted, but the fucking ITF agent, who had been sitting at a desk at the other end of the room, talking on the phone, suddenly hung up and came toward him while some middle-aged woman picked up the phone at another desk and punched in numbers, all the while keeping track of him.
“Something I can do for you, Mr. Montgomery?” the agent said.
He knew that tone when it came from a Government Man. “Not a damn fucking thing,” he snapped.
“You don’t have permission to be here,” the vampire said. Her smile widened. “Unless you’d like to stay for breakfast.”
A chill went through Jimmy when the Government Man looked surprised but didn’t object to the idea that she might sink those fangs into his throat and suck him dry.
Although . . . He’d heard stories about female vamps being able to give you a suck that blow jobs couldn’t match.
He eyed the vamp and was about to say something, just to see how she would respond, when Twyla came down the stairs, followed by a man with thinning hair, amber eyes, and a suit that must have cost enough to buy a month’s worth of mellow weed.
“You’ve got no business being in the consulate, Cyrus,” Twyla said quietly but firmly. “This isn’t one of the stores where you have permission to shop.”
“We need to talk,” Jimmy said. “Can we sit down for a minute?” He gestured to the desks. He might find all kinds of things of interest if he had a few minutes to look around. After all, information was a valuable commodity, and you could take it without anyone being the wiser.
“You can’t come in. You can say what you want to say right here or we can step outside.”
Stone bitch. Couldn’t give in even a little bit.
Looking at the freaks and the Government Man, he realized they weren’t going to step back and give even the illusion of privacy. “Outside, then.”
The middle-aged bitch was still on the phone, still watching him, still reporting to somebody. CJ? That Wolf who gave orders?
Jimmy stepped outside, forgetting to play the caring son by holding the door for his mama.
“What’s this about Sissy hightailing it out of here?” he demanded.
“She left on Earthday at first light,” Twyla replied.
“Going where?”
“I don’t know, Cyrus. She didn’t talk to anyone, didn’t leave a note. She just packed up her things and left with the girls.”
“She must have said something.” Shit. He’d counted on being able to tap Sissy for money or information or even getting her to make extra purchases of some of the soaps and things Sandee had said cost twice as much in high-end stores, which were the only places humans could purchase them.
Twyla shook her head. “She said nothing. She just left.”
He didn’t believe her words, but he believed the sadness in her eyes. Sissy had bolted with her brats. That meant his kids could tug the strings on Grandma’s heart a little harder to get more treats.
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But that wasn’t going to fatten his wallet.
“Her choice,” Jimmy said. Sissy had stopped being useful, so there was no point thinking about her unless things soured so much here that he really needed to find her. As he walked away, he added, “She was never family anyway.”
• • •
Meg locked the Liaison’s Office and strolled to the Market Square to spend her midday break with Sam. She wanted to hear about what he’d learned in school and about the new Wolf Team book. She wanted to think about something besides Sierra Montgomery and how everyone was stirred up over her departure.
The prophecy cards she’d selected that morning hadn’t told her much—bus, east, and the third card, the result, was a picture of a village. And Simon didn’t have anything to add when he came into the office minutes after she’d turned the cards. He just confirmed what she already knew. And neither of them had any thoughts about the village because the village card didn’t indicate if the place was human, Intuit, or Other.
All the prickling and buzzing and reading of prophecy cards hadn’t ended in a big dramatic moment or some significant event. Sierra had made her choice and left quietly—and yet that choice had negated the prophecies Meg had seen about Sierra and her children.
Sierra was free, and Meg could enjoy her time with Sam.
As she reached the archways that formed one side of the square, the Courtyard bus stopped. She recognized several of the Hawks and Crows who got off the bus. Some were reporting for work in the stores; others were there to do a bit of shopping in human form. The last ones off the bus were Jane Wolfgard, Sam . . . and Skippy.
Since Jane carried a mesh bag full of books, it was easy to guess she was heading for the library.
“We almost missed the bus,” Sam said, rushing up to greet her.
“It would have been a long walk from the Wolfgard Complex if you had,” Meg replied.
“It’s a long walk for human legs,” Sam agreed. He looked at her through his lashes. “But not so long for Wolf legs.”
He was fishing for something, and she had a good idea what it was. “If you came to the Market Square in Wolf form, you wouldn’t be able to shift and look human because you wouldn’t have your clothes, and you can’t shop in the stores if you’re naked.”
“You could carry the clothes for me.”
She braced her hands on her thighs so they were eye to eye. “Do I look like a packhorse?” Seeing the spark of mischief in Sam’s eyes, she added, “Before you answer, remember I’m the one who has money to buy a treat.”
“Roooooooooo.” Skippy gave Sam a pleading look followed by a hard nudge, making it clear he understood the connection between Meg, money, and treat.
Sam returned Skippy’s nudge and grinned at Meg.
“I have to pick up a couple of things at the general store,” she said, leading the way. “Then we can go to Meat-n-Greens for something to eat.”
“I like looking in the general store.” Sam slipped his hand into hers. “There’s a lot of stuff in there that we can buy. But not as much stuff as the Crows have in Sparkles and Junk.”
Thank goodness for that. For someone like her, the Crows’ shop was a visual explosion. At least the shelves in the general store, which was run by Hawks and Owls, were organized and orderly. Even so, she’d learned to limit herself to one or two aisles during each visit to avoid being overwhelmed by all the different things that could be purchased.
Meg stopped at the door of the general store and looked back at Skippy. “Lots of stuff but no food.”
The juvenile Wolf stared at her for a moment, then moved off to explore all the scents left by the Courtyard’s other residents—and look for anything edible that someone might have dropped or left on a table unguarded.
“We’re not allowed to pee in the square, remember?” Sam said when Skippy sniffed around a large flowerpot and started to lift a leg.
Skippy looked like he really wanted to leave a “Skippy was here” mark on the flowerpot, but he obeyed Sam and moved on.
Meg couldn’t say why it pleased her so much that Sam was the leader of the puppy pack—which included Skippy as well as the human children—but it filled her with pride. Sam and Robert had had a couple of scraps in order to settle who was leader, but now they were friends who often went off to explore on their own—at least as far as they were permitted to go in the Courtyard—leaving the girls to play games that didn’t include mud, dirt, climbing trees, or examining partially eaten remains of various kinds of prey.
Meg wished she’d been there when Simon and Pete Denby had laid down the rule that no one who was in human form could eat raw scraps of prey—and no puppy of any kind could try to light a fire like humans did in frontier stories in order to cook meat scraps that had been out in the hot sun for who knew how many days and were not fit to be eaten by human or Wolf.
Of course, the terra indigene had never interacted with human children until now, so Robert’s “interest in the icky” and his somewhat faulty knowledge of frontier living were an education for everyone. Which was why Ruth was researching frontier life as depicted in nonfiction accounts rather than the admittedly more fun fiction that was written about a time that was long gone. Well, maybe not that long gone if you were among the people who were resettling Bennett or the other towns in the Midwest Region.
“I’ll be over here,” Meg said, releasing Sam’s hand as she headed for the aisle that carried the soap and shampoo. None of the personal items sold in the Courtyard were scented—at least not enough for a human nose to detect—but they were made with different ingredients. Now, in the heat of summer, she preferred the yellow soap and shampoo because it felt more invigorating and left the lightest scent of lemon on warm skin. Or maybe she just imagined the scent because of the association of lemon and yellow.
She had picked up what she needed and was walking along the far end of the store, looking at a couple of endcaps that displayed different items each week—an exercise that allowed her to see other things the store offered without seeing too much—when she spotted two youngsters she didn’t know. Must be Cyrus Montgomery’s children. But what were they doing in the Courtyard unsupervised?
The boy was touching things on the shelves. The girl stood next to him, looking up and down the aisle. When she saw Meg watching them, she whispered to the boy, who slipped something into his pocket before they hurried toward the door—and toward Sam, who had been standing at the other end of the aisle, also watching the strangers.
The boy looked older and bigger than Sam, but the leader of the puppy pack stepped in front of the door, blocking it in what was a clear challenge.
The pins-and-needles feeling filled Meg’s lower lip. She hurried to the checkout counter near the front of the store and dumped the soap and shampoo. The Hawk behind the counter ignored her, his eyes fixed on the two boys squaring off at the door.
“You didn’t pay for that,” Sam said. “You can’t take things from the store until you pay for them.”
“Get outta my way, freak,” the boy said.
Sam bared his teeth and growled. “Nobody steals from us.”
“Boys,” Meg began.
“Fucking freak!” The boy gave Sam a hard shove and bolted outside.
Sam went after him, grabbed the back of the boy’s shirt.
The next thing Meg knew, they were rolling around outside, punching each other. She rushed to the door, but the girl was there, pushing at her, getting in the way while she tried to get outside and stop the fight.
“No!” she shouted, finally getting out the door. “Boys! Stop this!”
Adults were coming out of the shops around the square, but none of them seemed to be in a hurry to reach the fight. The Hawk from the general store had the girl by the arm, preventing her from running away or helping the boy.
Sam ducked quickly enough to avoid a
fist in the face, but he took a hard blow to the side of his head.
“Enough!” Meg shouted. Couldn’t anyone else see this wasn’t a little scrap about dominance? That older boy really wanted to hurt Sam!
She saw a glint of metal on a couple of the boy’s fingers right before he hit Sam again, splitting the skin along Sam’s cheek.
Oh gods, Meg thought, seeing the blood on Sam’s face. We need to find a doctor.
She didn’t think, didn’t wait for help from the other adults. She just waded in, intending to grab an arm, a shirt, anything to pull the boys apart and stop this. As she reached for them, Sam grabbed the boy’s wrist and bit the meaty part of his adversary’s hand before jumping out of reach, ready to attack again.
Screaming, the boy stumbled away from Sam and flailed his arms.
Meg didn’t feel the blow, didn’t even know she’d been hit as she staggered back and sank to her knees. Then she tasted blood, felt the agony that was the prelude to prophecy. She didn’t want to swallow the words, didn’t want to swallow the pain.
“Our Meg! Our Meg!” Jenni Crowgard knelt in front of her.
Shouts. Snarls. Motion all around her now. But all she really saw was Jenni, who took her hand and said, “Starr has chalk. Speak. We will listen.”
So she spoke, describing the visions. And as she spoke, she drifted on the euphoria that came from speaking prophecy, veiled from the visions she had seen . . . and the turmoil that surrounded her.
• • •
Blessed Thaisia, Simon thought as he shelved stock. Did they have to misbehave today?
But Sam was with . . . “Meg.” He hurried out the back door of Howling Good Reads, followed by Vlad, who had also heard the warning and flowed out the window of HGR’s office.
By the time Simon reached the Market Square, adult terra indigene were converging on the youngsters and Meg was way too close to the fight—because even from a distance he could tell this was a real fight, not a scrap or rough play.
