by Lori Drake
Sam looked up from his writing. “Tony?”
“Bouncer,” Joey replied, before addressing Rico again. “Tony wasn’t at the door. Any idea where he is?”
“No clue, but he’s on the board for tonight, so he should be in soon.”
Joey frowned. “He didn’t get called in early to talk to the police?”
“He did, but he didn’t show. Boss is pissed.”
“I hope he’s okay…” Joey’s frown deepened.
“He probably just slept through his phone ringing,” Rico said, as if reading worry on her face.
Joey cleared her throat and schooled her face into neutrality. “Probably. Anyway, I know you’ve got work to do. If you point out Selene for me, we’ll get out of your hair.”
Rico pointed toward the dance floor. “Blue dress, but no rush. Can I get you anything? On the house, I insist.”
“No thanks, we’re not staying long.” Joey twisted to look toward the dance floor. Selene stood out in her short, tight, fringed dress of midnight blue. “Oh, and I’m sorry for not warning you about the cops,” she added, turning back. “I kind of pointed them in your direction.”
Rico shrugged and offered a small smile. “Don’t stress, bonita.”
Joey met Sam’s eyes and motioned with her head. Together, they turned and headed toward the dance floor. As they closed the distance, she took a closer look at Selene. There must have been sequins or crystals sewn into her dress, because it seemed to twinkle when she moved, and she moved a lot. She was good. Lacking in polish, but this wasn’t a polished sort of place. She had a dark olive complexion and long black hair swept up in a braided ponytail that whipped around frequently as she moved. Joey didn’t recognize her, but she did recognize her current partner and groaned softly.
“What? Do you know her?” Sam asked, catching the groan despite the loud music.
“No,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Come on, if we wait for them to be done, we’ll never make our deadline.”
It took Sam a moment to figure out what she intended, but once he did he dug his heels in.
“Whoaaaa. I can’t do that,” he protested, as she dragged him toward the dance floor.
“Just follow my lead, and try not to step on my feet.”
Sam made uncomfortable protest noises all the way there, but he didn’t go so far as to break away. Instead, he let her tug him out onto the sparsely populated dance floor and did his best to follow her lead. She kept things simple, but Sam was pretty stiff and salsa was a very loose dance. Nonetheless, she managed to maneuver him across the floor to Selene and her partner, waiting until she had an opportunity to cut in.
“Excuse me, but this fellow owes me a dance,” Joey said, and before either could utter a protest she foisted Sam off on Selene and spun off with the spicy Latina’s partner.
The blonde man scowled down at her as they settled into hold. “What the hell do you want?”
“Come on, Alex. Is that any way to greet an old friend?” she said, forcing a smile and batting her lashes.
“We’re not friends,” he insisted, turning his head to look over at where Selene was awkwardly trying to deal with Sam. Joey followed the direction of his glance. Selene was a good sport, at least. A better sport than Alex was being.
Joey turned his head back toward herself with fingertips at his jaw. “Can’t we just enjoy a little dance? For old times sake?” She rolled her denim-clad hips in time with the latin beat.
“What do you want?” he asked again, tense but still going along with the dance.
“To give my brother some time to ask your partner a few questions. Then we’ll be out of your hair,” she assured him. The music shifted, the lively number they had been dancing to giving way to something slower.
Alex spun her so her back was to him and pulled her against him so they could sway to the beat without having to look at each other. They moved well together. They always had. That wasn’t what had broken them. His head dipped, as a lover might to whisper something in his lady’s ear. But Alex was terse rather than sultry. “Questions about what?”
“Chris,” Joey replied, simply, hoping it would stem the tide of questions. If there was one thing Alex didn’t like to talk about, it was Chris. She felt him stiffen at her back, but he kept moving to the rhythm. They danced in silence for a few more rhythmic beats of the drums before he spun her out and back in, facing him again. When he looked down at her now, it was a little more softly. The resentment still lingered, simmering beneath the surface, but at least he was trying.
“I heard about that. I’m sorry,” he said.
Joey frowned up at him. “Word travels fast. It is what it is,” she said, casting her eyes about for a distraction. Any distraction. That storm of emotion inside her was starting to rumble again, shaking the foundations of her control. Her eyes found Sam and Selene once more. They were talking, which was a good sign.
“God, you’re so cold.” The momentary softness was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and Joey’s forced good humor faltered.
“Don’t,” she said, keeping her gaze elsewhere.
Alex snorted softly, shaking his head. “Fine, whatever. You really are a piece of work.”
It was one dig too many, and Joey’s impulse control was not great, not even in the best of circumstances. She put her foot down rather firmly on his and clamped her hand over his mouth before he could howl in outrage. Her narrowed brown eyes locked with his wide blue ones, pinning him there as if he didn’t actually have a full foot’s height advantage.
“I’m only going to say this once,” she said, voice tight with a dangerous cocktail of anger and grief. “So you’re going to listen, and then we’re going to go rescue my brother before he develops a post-traumatic dancing disorder.”
Alex could have pulled away, but instead he just stood there as her sheer presence washed over him.
“I’m sorry that you felt threatened by Chris. I’m sorry that you couldn’t believe that I could love him, live with him, partner with him and not fuck him simply because we don’t actually share DNA. But I will never be sorry for choosing him over you, because you are still the same self-involved childish asshole that you always were. He was three times the man you will ever be, you pathetic sack of meat. Get. Over. It.”
The rage that welled up inside surprised even her. She shook with it, but otherwise they had gone completely still and were starting to draw unwanted attention. Suppressing a growl, she shoved him away and was about to stomp off properly when Sam swooped in, smoothly transferring Selene back to Alex and ushering Joey off the dance floor.
“What was that about?” he leaned down to ask.
“Later,” she said tightly, shaking her head. She was still working her way back from the razor’s edge, unsure if she wanted to howl or cry. Maybe both, simultaneously. The walls felt like they were closing in. Her chest tightened, that familiar sensation of being trapped and needing to escape rising. She all but ran for the door, spilling out onto the sidewalk with Sam not far behind.
Standing there in the gathering twilight, Joey took a few deep breaths of fresh air and tipped her face to the open sky. It helped.
“I’ll be okay. We can go back inside in a minute,” she assured her brother, even as she dashed tears away with icy fingers. Something about being angry always turned them into finger-cicles.
“We don’t need to,” he said, stepping up to her and drawing her into a hug.
Joey growled softly, pushing him away. “I said I’ll be fine, okay? Just give me a minute.”
He didn’t let go. Instead, his arms tightened, squeezing her. “I told Selene we were on a timetable. She agreed to show Chris’s picture around tonight and see if she could find out anything. I told her I’d call her tomorrow.”
Joey hesitated a moment more, then relaxed when his meaning became clearer. Sighing, she leaned against him, pressed her face into his shirt and let his familiar scent wash over her.
A few moments passed before she lifted h
er head abruptly and looked up at him with an arched brow. “You got her number? You sly old wolf.”
His brown eyes twinkled and his lips twitched in a tiny smile, one corner of his mouth higher than the other.
“Hey, Jojo!” A male voice interrupted, and both siblings turned their heads to look toward the man coming up the sidewalk.
“Tony, hey…” Joey said, pulling back from Sam. This time, he let her go and tucked his hands in his pockets, sizing up the stranger and giving him a slight nod from afar.
Joey closed the remaining distance with a few steps and flung her arms around the muscular man in the tight black T-shirt, beyond relieved to see him. He picked her up off the ground and spun her around once before setting her back on her feet.
“Those don’t look like dancing shoes. What’s up?”
Oh god, he doesn’t know. How do I do this?
The thought choked Joey up all over again. She bit her lip, looking away.
“What?” Tony asked, with a chuckle. “Did somebody die?”
Joey swallowed bile, not sure she could get the words out. “It’s Chris, he’s… gone.”
“Gone, like skipped town?” Tony said, frowning.
“Gone, like… gone.” Joey said, with as much gravity as she could muster, not quite able to bring herself to say the D-word.
“Shit.” Tony’s eyes widened and he rubbed his stubbly, shaved head in chagrin. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry Jojo. It’s just something people say you know? What happened?”
“Mugging,” Joey said. The cops’ party line was good enough for now.
“God, this fucking city gets worse every year. That’s so unreal, I mean… he was just here the other night.”
“Yeah, I know. Trust me, I know.” Joey shoved her hands in her pockets and sighed. “Speaking of the other night, do you have any idea what time he left?”
Tony’s hand moved from the back of his head to the back of his thick neck, rubbing. “Early. Eight thirty, eight forty-five.”
“And he didn’t say where he was going?”
“Nope, sorry.”
Joey nodded and paused for reflection. If Rico and Tony were close to accurate, Chris was only at Santiago’s for about an hour. “What about the woman he left with, have you seen her since then? She might be in danger.” She couldn’t shake the thought that the woman might just as easily have been an accomplice, but she didn’t plan to tell him that.
Tony’s eyes widened and he put his hand atop his shaved head again, as if rubbing it would banish his troubled thoughts. “Shit, it happened that night? No, I haven’t seen her. I mean, I was off last night but… damn, I hope she’s okay.”
Joey punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up. Once they leave the club, they’re not your responsibility.”
Tony nodded and glanced toward the club’s door with a frown. “I’ve got to get clocked in or the boss is gonna ride my ass. Wanna come in? Drinks are on me. Your, uh, friend too.” He nodded to Sam.
“We need to get going,” Sam said and nodded back. He’d lingered where Joey had left him, but Joey didn’t doubt his wolf ears had picked up every word.
“Raincheck?” Joey asked. “Oh, and if you see that redhead again would you give me a call?”
Tony gave Joey a parting bear hug, lifting her off her feet and squeezing the hell out of her. “You betcha. Take care, Jojo. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
Joey nodded, moving back to Sam as Tony headed inside. “I guess that was kind of a bust. Next stop?”
They walked the few short blocks down 5th Street from the club to the crime scene in silence. Joey kept her hands in her pockets. The closer they came to their destination, the heavier her feet felt. She spotted the bright yellow and black plastic strung between the buildings as they drew closer. There might as well have been a big neon sign reading “Crime Scene Here,” but the site was unguarded.
Standing at the mouth of the alley, Joey looked down it and bit her lip. Sam ducked under the police tape and paused on the other side.
“Coming?”
“Yeah.” Joey joined him, and as they walked down the alley she engaged her heightened senses. Eyes, ears and nose on alert, she scanned the full spectrum for lingering evidence of the crime. Of Chris.
She smelled the blood before she saw it on the pavement. Torn between relief that the alley hadn’t been completely scrubbed of any trace of the crime and annoyance that anything being left behind felt somehow disrespectful, she closed her eyes and focused on the olfactory evidence.
The blood was dry, so the smell wasn’t heavy, but even so it’d cut through the other scents muddying the alley. When she focused, she caught the familiar tendril of Chris’s scent among the others. There was no telling which of the other scents belonged to the killer, but she recognized Detectives Harding and Rivers’ among them. That ruled out two, at least in theory.
“Joey?” Sam’s voice pulled her back.
Joey opened her eyes and found her face inches from the blood stained pavement. She hadn’t been aware she’d gotten down on hands and knees, but there she was, kneeling right over the spot where her brother had died. Her stomach heaved and she recoiled to scramble backward, ending up on her ass a few feet away.
Sam offered her a hand up. “You okay?”
“No.” She took his hand and let him haul her to her feet, then wiped her hands on her pant legs, wishing for about a gallon of hand sanitizer. “Let’s look around a little more and get the hell out of here.”
They looked, but the police had been thorough. Joey was about to throw in the towel when something caught her eye. She crouched at the foot of a dumpster and plucked a small object from beneath it.
“What’d you find?” Sam asked.
“I’m not sure.” Joey held up the object. It was a stick bent into a circle with an intricate web of thread woven inside of it. “It’s kind of like a dreamcatcher but… not.” She sniffed it, picking up traces of a scent. It wasn’t entirely unfamiliar; she’d caught that scent elsewhere in the alley too. Hope flared within her.
Sam pulled a plastic baggie from a pocket and offered it to her without comment. She dropped the object in the baggie and sealed it up.
They walked back to the truck in silence. Once there, Joey hauled open the passenger door and climbed inside.
“We need to grab a burrito or something on the way home. I promised Mom.”
The engine rumbled to life as Sam turned the key. He might have answered, but she didn’t hear him. That mantle of melancholy was settling around her shoulders again. With the bagged evidence held securely in one hand, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the glass while they drove away.
10
It was full dark by the time they got back to the house. Joey could feel the moon cresting, even if it wasn’t yet visible. She had picked out a faint brightening to the east ten minutes prior. She couldn’t help but glance back at it every few seconds. The imminence of the moonrise left her fidgeting in her seat, but the usual excitement she felt on such nights was tempered this time by grief. She couldn’t count the number of full moons since her first change without a calculator, but she knew that Chris had been there for every one.
Would it have been easier if I’d had weeks to prepare myself instead of less than forty-eight hours?
She didn’t know the answer, so she focused on what lay in front of her. Namely, getting her ass to the meeting point before her mother became irritated enough to kick it when she got there.
There was no time to waste. The truck was still coasting to a stop behind the house when Joey threw open the passenger door and hopped out, tugging at her clothes. Behind her, the engine cut off and she could hear the parking brake set. The other door opened and closed, but she wasn’t worried about her brother seeing something he shouldn’t. Nudity was kind of a non-issue with her family when it came to the full moon. She had her shirt off and her pants unzipped before she remembered her shoes, and ended up hopping
on one foot as she removed each in turn. Her heart raced as she finally shed her pants and underthings, leaving her clothes scattered on the ground wherever they’d fallen. It could all be replaced, of course, but no wolf enjoyed shifting with clothes on. It was like getting your blood pressure taken with a full-body sleeve, until seam or fabric finally tore.
Joey knelt on the hard ground and closed her eyes. Her skin started to tingle almost immediately as she embraced her wolf. It was nothing like cinematic depictions. There were no contortions, no sound of cracking bones or tearing muscle. She’d seen packmates shift many times; the air shimmered around them and for a few seconds their human forms blurred like a mirage in the desert. When the haze cleared, a wolf stood in their place.
When Joey herself shifted, she felt a bit of tingling and a sensation not unlike a languid stretch as her wolf emerged. The night came alive around her. Her wolf senses put even her sharpened human ones to shame. She couldn’t just smell the desert air; she could taste it. A myriad of scents and sounds assailed her, but she processed them all effortlessly, an act as natural as breathing.
Her small body flowed from human to wolf in a matter of seconds, but somehow Sam still beat her to it. A soft growl escaped her as she heard him run past, opening her wolf eyes to see him lope off into the darkness. She leapt to her feet in an instant, gave her lustrous auburn coat a shake and sprinted to catch up. It hadn’t been a competition, until it was.
Sam may have been big, but Joey was fast. She not only caught up with him, she overtook him. Her paws drummed softly on the hard-packed earth as she ran. She gave herself over to the joy of running, of feeling the wind in her fur and the moon’s power filling her. Tonight, she would be stronger, faster. They would mourn, yes, but then they would run. They would hunt. They would fall asleep in one of their hollows with full bellies, moon-drunk and sated.
The pack gathered at the big rock under the clear sky, as always. The first sliver of the moon’s face was just showing above the horizon when Joey sprinted into the clearing, slowing to a lope as she approached the others. Her head lowered automatically as she approached her Alpha. She wasn’t looking for a challenge. Nonetheless, the other she-wolf’s ears twitched in annoyance and she snapped her jaws with enough ferocity that Joey skittered aside and found a place to sit with the others rather than risk getting too close.
