by Geonn Cannon
“We have that. Doctored, of course. We actually tested a sample from Eleanor.”
Ari leaned back and looked out the window. Timothy tapped his fingers against the desk and let the silence build between them. Finally, he gave in.
“So how shall we proceed?”
“What do you mean?”
He showed her his palms. “Do you plan to reveal Vivian’s plot? Her lies, her... machinations?”
“I was hired to find Crossing-Over Place,” Ari said. “I basically did that. I haven’t seen it, but I trust you enough to say I know where it is. And it’s going to be ‘rediscovered’ soon anyway. Right? You’re still going through with the discovery of the fake and revelation about Megan’s existence? You don’t really need me for all of that.”
“Well... no. I suppose not.”
Ari stood up. “Then I consider this case closed. If it’s all the same to you, I have bigger issues right now than Vivian manipulating her whole family and this poor Megan Garfield girl. So... best of luck to everyone. So long and good riddance.”
She headed for the door, waving goodbye to Timothy over her shoulder.
“Long live the Burroughs name.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ari entered her mother’s home without knocking, moving through the foyer to the living room. Milo was on the edge of the couch with a laptop open on the table in front of her. She looked up without surprise as Ari stormed in, sitting up straighter with her hands still poised over the laptop keys.
“Where’s Mom?”
“Upstairs, on the phone.”
Ari went to the foot of the stairs and thought about yelling up, but she didn’t want to interrupt the call if it was important. Instead, she went back into the living room and sat down in the armchair.
“I just closed my biggest outstanding case. As of right now, I only have one job: getting Dale back.”
Milo smiled, but her eyes were worried. “Happy to have the help. Gwen and I have been looking into it ever since Dale went all barmy. We might have a hell of a fight ahead of us.”
Ari said, “Tell me what you have. How can a bunch of essays change someone so completely? How could it change Dale of all people?”
“We don’t think it’s the essays themselves. I mean, yes, a biased report can change someone’s mind, but this goes way beyond that. And the book has taken down bigger targets than Dale. It’s turned canidae into self-loathing time bombs. Killed pack members, killed loved ones, killed themselves. Most of what we know about the book comes from the Kirsch pack, German wolves who realized what was happening when the first essays leaked out in 1932. Anyone who read them went ballistic. Adam Kirsch tracked down Magnusson and tried to convince him not to publish the essays. Magnusson refused, so Kirsch stole the book. Magnusson made a few attempts to get it back and was eventually killed by the pack. Since then, they took it upon themselves to protect it.”
“You said the book had been used to create hunters before.”
Milo nodded. “Yeah, in the forties. Protection of the book fell by the wayside for whatever reason. I guess there was something big going on in Germany around that time. Anyway, the book was stolen from the library where the Kirsch pack had hidden it. By that point, the book had become legendary, so a bunch of hunters decided to test its powers. For about ten or twelve years they passed it around to new recruits.”
Ari rubbed her temples. “I still don’t understand how reading them can make Dale into a bigot.”
“It’s more than just a book. It’s a grimoire. It’s... it’s the Necronomicon, Ari. Magnusson may have had pure intentions when he wrote the essays, but the Kirsches didn’t think he was operating under his own power. The essays were written in a very particular way. Magdalena Kirsch believed that just looking at the words was enough to feel their power. Reading them would be the same as reciting the words of a spell.”
“So if this thing gets published...”
“Then everyone who reads it, even as a lark, will get tainted. They’ll be on the road to becoming hunters.”
“So Dale is a hunter now?” Her voice broke, but she tried to cover it with a cough.
Milo said, “I don’t know. I hope not. I’ve been trying to find anything about reversing the effects, but there’s not much. It basically just says never, ever read the essays for any reason.”
“Great.”
“We’ll figure it out, Ari. You stopped the war, this can be our contribution.”
Ari stood up and walked toward the back door. “She called me this morning. Middle of the night, called me, said one word. One word. And it cracked the case for me. It was the piece I needed to go after the co-conspirator and make him spill his guts.”
Milo sat up straighter. “That’s actually great news. It means she was thinking about you. She wanted to help you. The essays may have changed her brain, but not who she is. Right now, Dale’s essentially a hostage. She’s fighting for you.”
“Who’s fighting for...” Gwen appeared on the stairs and spotted Ari. “Oh. Ariadne.” She came the rest of the way downstairs. “Have you told her what we discovered?”
“Just background stuff. Not the worse bits.”
Ari turned around. “Wait, there are worse bits?”
Milo cleared her throat. “The Kirsches retrieved the book in the late fifties, early sixties. Since then, they’ve been watching over it. Until about four months ago.”
Gwen said, “My contacts in France hadn’t heard from them in a while, so they went to check things out. All members of the Kirsch pack were dead. Slaughtered.”
“Hayden,” Ari said.
“That’s the theory they’re going with, yes,” Gwen said. “That’s the only way he could be in possession of the original book. We don’t believe he has any reason to harm Dale if she is actually working with him. But he’s an extremely dangerous man, Ariadne.”
“Then we have to get her away from him. The people who have been... infected... by the book, are there any stories about how they could be fixed? You said you were looking into that.”
Milo and Gwen exchanged a look, but neither said anything for a moment. The silence hung between them until finally, Gwen took the bullet.
“There are some stories,” she said. “But you have to understand, Ari, there’s never been a situation like what you have with Dale. There’s never been a case where a human infected by the book has been in a romantic relationship with a canidae.”
Ari picked up on the phrasing. “But there have been cases where canidae was infected. What happened there?”
Milo spoke while staring at the floor. “A man read the essays, unaware of what it was. He turned against his friends, his family. Went on a rampage. They eventually cornered him. Convinced him the essays were lies, that he was under the influence of powerful magic. He went home. Locked all the doors and windows and set the place on fire with himself and his kids inside. Killed ‘em all.”
“Well, we’ll just have to find another way.”
Milo and Gwen looked at each other again.
“I need the optimism, ladies.”
“Right,” Milo said without conviction. “Another way.”
Gwen smiled.
“First, I need coffee. Then we’re going to go through everything you’ve found and look for some answer you’ve missed.”
“What if there isn’t one?” Gwen asked softly.
Ari said, “Then we fucking make one up.”
###
Dale was exhausted. She’d slept, but gotten no rest. Her brain was full of spiders. No, wolves. Monstrous wolves, waiting in the dark to tear her to pieces when she let her guard down. But even if she ignored her relationship with Ari, she knew for a fact that fear was a lie. She’d seen canidae (wolves, mutts) being tender. Loving. Hannah with Mia. Gwen with Milo. They’d sacrificed for her, fought for her. How could she see them as monsters? How could she see Ari as a monster, given everything they’d been through together? If anything, Ari needed her prot
ection. Without Dale, Ari’s business would have failed years ago. She would have been trapped in kennels for untold days and weeks. She would likely still be in prison, if everything with Cecily Parrish had still happened the same way.
She was at a window seat in Specialty’s across from her hotel. An untouched pastrami sandwich was on the plate in front of her. She saw Isaac hurry across the street and sat up straighter, taking a long drink of her coffee so she would be as buzzed as possible when he joined her. Today he was in a tan suit and a pale blue shirt, looking like a Miami-based spy on a TV show she used to watch.
He sat across from her and eyed the sandwich. “Mm, that looks good.”
She pushed it across to him.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t. I’ll just order my own.”
“Take it. I don’t even know why I ordered it.”
Isaac hesitated but then repositioned the plate and picked up the sandwich with both hands. “Thank you. I skipped breakfast this morning.” He took a bite and they sat in silence as he chewed. “So... you look like you had a late night. Read something interesting...?”
“I have questions.”
“I would be shocked if you didn’t. I hope I’m able to answer them.”
Dale thought about how best to begin. “Okay. You came to Seattle following the hunters.”
He held up a finger. “I came because of the attempt to restart wolf manoth. Hunters are far easier to track than wolves, for obvious reasons. I had a suspicion there would be a large wolf population here because of the wilderness all around. It really was just dumb luck that I found a connection between the hunters’ finances and Gwyneth Willow. That led me to Ariadne, and... again, dumb luck.”
“Okay. So you didn’t know about Ariadne before coming here?”
Isaac shook his head. “Meeting her was like crashing through a doorway. I started digging into anything I could find about her. She’s a remarkable specimen, as I’m sure you realize. The first wolf to have a successful relationship with a human.”
Dale’s stomach twisted, and she was grateful she hadn’t eaten anything.
“She also negotiated a peace with the hunters.” He widened his eyes and made an expression of shock. “That’s... that’s unheard of. That’s like the cockroaches convincing the exterminator to let them stay in the house. I almost respect her. And, you know, to be entirely honest? With her looks, she might be an excellent representative of her people. I’m sure those liberal talk shows would love to have her on to talk about mutt rights. You could be the counterpoint. Former lovers, now bitter rivals. It’s a hell of a story.”
“It’s a sad story,” Dale said softly. She put her hand on top of the bracelet.
Isaac nodded as if he was sympathetic, but didn’t quite understand. “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”
“Yeah,” Dale said, “if you thought about it just now after mentioning my love life with Ari, I definitely mind. I’m not answering any sick questions about that.”
“Okay. Okay. I was just curious. A lot of people will be. You can probably expect a lot of speculation and discussion on this topic. I don’t want that to dissuade you from coming forward but I do want you to be prepared for that.”
I’ll go down in history as the Werewolf Fucker, she thought. My Lover, the Wolfgirl.
“When this goes public, a lot of wolves are going to get hurt. Killed.”
“Then they’ll be the prey for a change.” His voice was suddenly hard, bitter. He ducked his chin, his eyes shadowed. Dale watched his shoulders rise and fall as he collected himself. “The hunters have existed for a thousand years. They were created because wolves were beginning to overrun England. And they were successful! They ran those beasts into hiding. But the hunters have become lazy. Complacent. And the wolves can sense that. We have no way of knowing how many of them are in this city, Dale, and that is terrifying. Because they aren’t just in this city, they’re in New York and the Canadian wilderness and cities across the globe. We forced them to learn how to hide, and now we’re never going to see them coming. You and I can give our species a fighting chance to beat them.”
Dale said, “Because even if a few hundred die... it’s just population control.”
Isaac smiled. “Exactly. And listen, hey, maybe one day when they have more... tolerable numbers... maybe they can even integrate into society.”
Dale felt cold. She felt physically ill, but her brain still burned when she tried to focus too hard on it. She brought her fingers up to her temples and massaged gently.
“When will my head stop hurting?”
“That does happen occasionally. It’s a side effect of having your world shifted so much in such a short amount of time. Don’t worry, it usually goes away quickly.”
She put her hands down and focused on him. “So what’s the next step?”
“Ah. Well... I was willing to let you take a few days, read some more of the essays. You’re making a very large change here, Dale. You’re turning your back on the woman you love. I don’t expect you to make that decision lightly.”
“The more I read of that book,” she said, “the sicker I feel. Every time I walk outside, I worry I’m going to run into Ariadne on the street, and I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to walk the other way. I am afraid... I’m just afraid. I think the sooner we can get started, the better I’ll feel.”
He gave her a sincere smile and bobbed his head. “I feel the same way. And in that case, our next step is to get ourselves to New York. I have a publisher who is interested in the book, but she’d really love to meet someone who has the inside scoop. Someone like you. I’ll make sure she doesn’t lean too heavily on the former-lover angle. We want this to be a scientific discovery, not some prurient website clickbait. Facts. Historical data.”
“Right,” she said. “How soon can we leave?”
“Uh. Well, I have a private plane waiting for me at Clay Lacy. All I have to do is give them a call and they’ll gas it up, have it ready. If you’re absolutely certain you want to go now.”
Dale looked out the window. Seattle was her home. Pennsylvania was where she was born and where her parents chose to raise her, but Seattle was where she’d chosen to make her own life. And she’d succeeded, damn it. She’d made a great damn life here. And now she was just going to throw it away. Her career. Her life.
Her partner.
“Dale?” Isaac’s voice was gentle. “Look, this is a huge step. We don’t have to do anything right now. I’ll give you more cash for a hotel. I want to move at a pace you’re comfortable with.”
“Call the airport and have them get the plane ready. I’ll get my things from the hotel room.” She nodded across the street. “You wait here. We can leave right away.”
“You’re sure?” He was very clearly trying to rein in his excitement.
She nodded. “I have to get out of this town. I’ll feel better once I put some distance between me and Ariadne.”
He finally allowed himself to smile. “Okay, then. Fantastic. Thank you, Dale. Thank you so much, this... this is the culmination of years of my work.”
She nodded, unsure how else to react. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll, uh, I’ll call the airport and finish your sandwich.”
Dale left him at the table and went across the street to the hotel. She was basically sleepwalking, her mind completely oblivious to what her body was doing. This was her final day in Seattle. The sun would set on her in New York. She might never see the Space Needle again, or have another burger from Dick’s Drive-In. She would never see their apartment again. Never sit behind her desk at Bitches, or cover Ari with the afghan when she fell asleep on the couch in the office. She would start to regularly sleep through the night.
She used the keycard to get into her room and put the suitcase on the bed. She knew she was crying, but didn’t know when she’d started. The tears were just there, rolling down her cheeks. It was ten years. Ten years of indoctrination, Stockholm syndrome,
lies, manipulation. She wiped at her face and closed her bag. She checked to make sure she had her chargers and picked up her phone. She stared at it, then swiped a finger across the screen.
Ten years. She couldn’t just vanish. That would be cruel and inhuman.
She sat on the foot of the bed and dialed Ari’s number. There was a click and she held her breath, but then sighed with relief when she realized it was the voicemail message. Just hearing Ari’s voice was like a rubber band twisting around her heart.
“This is Ariadne Willow. Leave a message.”
“It’s m-- Th-This is Dale. I wanted to let you know that... I’m not going to be around anymore. I’m leaving town. Today, in... not very long from now. Isaac has a plane waiting at Clay Lacy. I didn’t want you to worry about running into me in the street or a-at home. The apartment is yours now, and... and the office.” Her voice broke and she sagged forward, choking from holding back the sob.
“Puppy,” she managed.
She sat up, sniffled, and wiped at her eyes with her free hand. “Don’t try to follow me. I know how you are. You’re like a... like a d-dog with a bone.” She laughed under her breath. “It’s what made you so good at your job. But you’ll be wasting your time. Trust me. Just forget about me. I’m going to try to forget about you, too. It’ll be the best. And I’m... I’m...”
She looked out the window.
“I’m sorry for what’s going to happen next. I’m sorry that it’s going to be me doing it to you. I know that I’ve changed a lot in the past few days, but you’re still the same person. So this must hurt you terribly. I’m sorry for that. But everything you’ve done over the past ten years has been... cruel. And it’s been wrong.”
She closed her eyes.
“Good-bye, Ariadne.”
She hung up and stood, then tossed her phone onto the bed. She didn’t trust herself not to answer if Ari tried to call back, and it belonged to the agency anyway. She took the suitcase to the window and looked outside at the city, her city, for the last time as a resident.
