by Anne Bishop
“She’s not an Intuit.”
“I know that, Mom. I know she’s not one of us, I know she’s got a job in Bennett, and I work at the ranch, and there’s a fair piece of driving between those two places.”
“Nothing wrong with a phone call between visits. Or a letter.”
“A letter? I’d probably be the one driving our post up to the Bennett office.”
“A letter is something that can be enjoyed between friends, but it’s also an old-fashioned kind of courtship. A woman can revisit a letter when the man isn’t around. Gives her a reason to think about him. Speaking of letters, since you’re making the trip anyway, take the sack of mail Phil has ready and bring back the mail for the town as well as the ranch. And check with John Wolfgard to see if he has any of the books I asked about.”
He’d called Truman Skye after leaving his mother’s house that morning and offered to pick up any mail for the Skye Ranch since it would be on his way back home. Truman sounded grateful to eliminate one chore from his list and asked if Tobias could bring back a few things from the general store, if the items were available.
He couldn’t complain if his social call had turned into a delivery run. It justified the use of the gasoline.
* * *
* * *
“Joshua is going to work for you at the bookstore?” Barb twisted around to look at John, who was in the cargo area with Rusty, the carryalls, and the carry sack of food he’d had with him when he’d informed Jana that she was giving him a ride to the town square.
“He likes books,” John replied. “That’s why he spends extra time sorting the books that come in from the houses.”
“Is that our story?” Jana asked dryly, looking into the rearview mirror.
John hesitated, then gave her a delighted smile. “Yes. That is our story.”
“Okeydokey.” Jana didn’t glance at her housemate. Did. Not. After that crack about whether Virgil had adjustable parts, Barb deserved a little teasing.
“Well, he does like books,” Barb said defensively.
Jana smiled. “Then it’s a good fit. Joshua does work he likes and gets to interact with people who are, for the most part, coming in for something that will please them.”
Barb looked out the window and said, “We’re just friends. I have lots of friends. Besides, Joshua is too young for me.”
Definitely too young and too . . . undomesticated . . . to cope with some human behaviors. But being a true wild boy, Joshua is the only friend you’re hoping no one mentions to your brother.
Jana looked in the rearview mirror again. John met her eyes and nodded. If Michael Debany found out about Barb’s friendship with Joshua Painter, the news wouldn’t come from either of them.
* * *
* * *
Tolya turned on his computer. He’d never had a reason to be grateful for the Earthday rule of most businesses being closed—including government offices—but as Bennett was swiftly being transformed back into an inhabited town, he appreciated having one day when he could ignore the human residents and their helpful ideas and the requests to reopen more of the businesses. Reopening businesses was a good thing, certainly, but all those humans made his job more demanding. At least handling the paperwork and keeping track of who was living where and running which business was no longer his problem now that he had hired the two humans to be land agents.
His mobile phone rang. He glanced at the clock as the phone rang again. Too early to be a personal call. Too early to be anything but trouble.
“Tolya Sanguinati.”
“It’s Stewart Dixon. Do you remember me?”
“Of course.” A rancher who lived north of the Elder Hills, Stewart Dixon had been helpful when the Prairie Gold Wolves had shipped eleven bison to Lakeside. “What? Please repeat your words.” The signal faded and came back.
“A stranger came to the house. Tried to force himself on my daughter. Ranch hand came in and interrupted. My man’s been stabbed. I’ve got him in the truck and I’m heading to Bennett. Please gods, tell me you have a doctor there.”
“We do. Come to the government building when you reach the town. I will escort you to the doctor from there.”
“Got my wife and daughter with me,” Dixon said. “My sons and some of the hands are watching the house and the horses.”
Tolya disconnected the call, then used the desk phone to call one of the doctors who had been hired through the Lakeside job fair. The doctor’s wife was a nurse and midwife and worked with her husband, so he didn’t have to call anyone else. But after a moment’s thought, he called the other doctor as well as the vet, who also had been hired through the job fair. Tolya wasn’t sure the second doctor would be required or that the vet would be useful to a human who had been stabbed, but he wanted all of the town’s bodywalkers awake and ready.
Next he considered the females coming in with Dixon. He wasn’t sure if the daughter was injured, but he was certain that, with Dixon needing to be present to help the injured man, the females would be on their own and vulnerable.
He called the Bird Cage Saloon. “Scythe?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded rough, as if she wasn’t fully in her human form yet.
“It’s Tolya. I need you to provide hospitality to some human females who will be arriving soon.”
“Why bring them to the saloon instead of the hotel?” Curiosity, not challenge.
“Because you’re at the saloon.” And no one would harm those women with a Harvester standing guard.
“I’ll be ready,” Scythe said.
With nothing else to do until Dixon arrived, Tolya checked his e-mail—and felt his body tighten as he opened the message from Jackson Wolfgard and downloaded the picture that was attached.
He printed out two copies of the picture—one to keep and one for the sheriff’s office. Then he forwarded the picture, along with Jackson’s message, to Jesse Walker.
If Stewart Dixon hadn’t called, the picture would be no more than a curiosity this morning—a young woman with pale red hair looking in a mirror, but instead of her own reflection, the mirror showed a young, dark-haired man. The woman was starting to turn away, as if wanting nothing to do with the man.
Tolya recognized the woman—and he suspected Abigail Burch would be able to tell him the name of the man.
* * *
* * *
Scythe’s hand rested on the phone. She was a hunter, a predator, a Harvester. Such an odd feeling to be asked to protect anything, let alone humans.
What was needed? What should she offer? And who should she have with her who would better understand what these females required?
She called Garnet Ravengard, who would keep watch from one of the trees in the town square and give warning if an enemy approached. Then she called Candice Caravelli and Lila Gold, waking both. When she told them to come to the saloon and why, Lila had questions about the females who needed protection. Candice did not, which made Scythe think that Candice knew more about needing help than Lila did. Her last call was to Yuri Sanguinati. The Intuit males who worked in the saloon were good workers, but she thought another predator would be more useful right now.
She combed out her hair, still wet from the shower, then dressed in jeans and a T-shirt—a simple outfit that matched the kind of clothes Candice and Lila wore before they reported to work. Casual attire. Something a business owner might wear before the business opened for the day and she dressed in the costume that was part of the ambiance of the Bird Cage Saloon.
She gave Yellow Bird fresh food and water and changed the papers in the cage as Barbara Ellen had shown her how to do.
“I will return later and listen to your singing.” She didn’t know if it made a difference to the bird, but it seemed sad for the bird to sing and not have anyone listen.
As a last check, she stood in front of the full-length mirror
. The clothes were appropriate and would not alert the threat, whatever it may be, that she was more than the other females in the saloon. And the hair—mostly gold with streaks of blue and red—now had the waves that Lila Gold always complimented without understanding their significance.
A door opened downstairs—and Scythe’s hair began to coil. A sharp whistle made her hesitate at the door of her suite.
Yuri laughed.
Yes, Scythe thought. If the enemy came to her door, he would expect no trouble—right up to the moment when her hair turned black and simply looking at her would have his organs turning to sludge.
* * *
* * *
Jana opened the door of the sheriff’s office and dropped her daypack on her desk.
“I’ll put the food in the fridge for Virgil and Kane. Where do you want these?” John asked, lifting the carryalls as he walked past her.
“Put the clothes in Virgil’s office.” She almost told him to put the clothes in the Me Time cell, but that would be like pulling Virgil’s tail—not something she wanted to do when they were almost getting along.
As soon as John left, Jana dropped Rusty’s leash and turned on the computer. “I’ll take a quick look at e-mail and make sure nothing urgent came in last night; then we’ll drop off this letter at the post office and take a quick walk around the square. Okay?”
E-mail from Tolya, asking Virgil to meet with him as soon as the Wolf was on duty. Another e-mail from Tolya, specifically to her, telling her to report to him immediately to deal with a situation that had occurred on a ranch north of Bennett.
Did they have jurisdiction there? She hadn’t been in town a full week yet and had been so focused on getting settled and learning the town’s boundaries and its citizens that she hadn’t thought about who else the Bennett Sheriff’s Department was expected to protect. She’d study a map of the Midwest and find out where the towns had been before the war—and make a note of which ones still existed. That would give her some idea of where the next human law enforcement might be.
Jana closed the e-mail program and headed for the door, snagging the letter to Tobias from the front pocket of her daypack as she passed her desk. “Okay. Let’s go to the post office and then see Mr. Sanguin . . .”
Rusty huddled in her crate. Now that Jana thought about it, the pup had seemed overly eager to get inside the office this morning.
Crouching, Jana held out her hand. “Rusty? Come on, girl. It’s okay. Come on out. Quick walk.”
Rusty came to her but balked at the office door. Should she let the dog stay or insist on being obeyed?
“Come on, girl.” She really needed a dog-training book. Or a book on human-dog relationships. Virgil could interpret dog, but she didn’t want to ask him about Rusty’s behavior since it would prove she knew less than he did and that would give him more reason to ignore what she thought about Rusty’s education.
The dog came with her but didn’t do her usual pulling on the leash to explore as much as possible. Instead, the only pulling was attempted dashes back to the sheriff’s office. And when the pup wasn’t trying to go back to the office, she was pressed so close to Jana’s leg that Jana had to watch each step to avoid stepping on Rusty’s feet.
As they came out on the other side of the square, Jana spotted Isobel Sanguinati outside the post office.
“Morning!” Jana called.
Isobel turned—and Jana jerked back a step. The Sanguinati who were in charge of Bennett had originally lived in Toland, an East Coast city that had been one of the largest human-controlled cities on the whole continent. They always sounded so educated and looked so sleek in their black clothes, it was easy to forget they weren’t some high-society family who had made their fortune in banking and investments; they were predators. They were a form of terra indigene.
Looking at Isobel now, Jana knew she wouldn’t forget it again.
Isobel smiled, carefully not showing even a hint of fang. “Your dog is nervous.”
“Yes. We usually take a walk in the morning, but I think I should put her in her crate for a while.”
“It would be harder for an enemy to reach her if she was in a larger cell.” Isobel held out a hand. “You have mail? I will take it.”
“Thanks.” Jana hesitated a moment before stepping forward and giving Isobel the letter. “Why do you think Rusty needs a larger cell? What’s going on?”
“Perhaps nothing. Perhaps a fight.” Isobel walked into the post office.
Oh gods. Who’s fighting? Forcing herself to steady her breathing, Jana looked around. An Eagle perched on one of the new hitching posts, watching her. Hawks soared overhead. Ravens or Crows flew from one tree in the square to the next, but they were silent. Whatever communication was being shared, it wasn’t vocalized.
A little ways down the street, Jana noticed Becky Gott taking her morning constitutional. Hannah and Sarah Gott had taken over two of the alleyway stores for their used-clothing business, and Becky had the job of sorting buttons taken from clothes her aunts deemed fit to be rags or quilting squares, filling glass containers with different colors. But every morning Becky took a walk around the square, waving at people as they opened their stores. Eventually her brother, Jacob, would fetch her and guide her back to the Gotts’ store.
Today, with Rusty whining and Isobel Sanguinati’s comment about a fight still circling in her head, seeing Becky on her own gave Jana a chill.
“Deputy? Morning, Jana!”
Jana worked up a smile as Craig and Dawn Werner, the new land agents, hurried toward her. In their mid-twenties and married just before the war that swept over the continent earlier that summer, they had had the misfortune of losing their jobs a couple of days before the wedding. With some cash from friends and family, they had packed their belongings into two large backpacks and headed out to see some of Thaisia. Then the Elders closed the borders between the regions, making travel difficult if a person didn’t have a work permit. Caught on the wrong side of the border and unable to return to the West Coast town where they had grown up, they had scrambled for food and shelter and safety until they managed to convince someone that they were heading for jobs in Bennett and bought tickets on a bus that covered travel between towns not serviced by the trains.
“Morning. Who is this?” Jana asked, looking at the black-and-white puppy.
“We just got him yesterday and haven’t settled on a name,” Dawn said. “We’re not even sure what breed he is, but we’re hoping he doesn’t get too big.”
Studying the puppy, Jana thought Dawn should hope a lot harder.
When both puppies started whimpering, Jana figured she’d delayed long enough. “I have to—”
“We have a business proposal for reopening the movie theater,” Dawn said hurriedly, holding out a sheaf of papers. “Small scale to start since we’re running the land agent office. Just weekends. I would take care of tickets and the books.”
“I worked part-time in the projection booth of theaters in our home town and could take care of showing the movies,” Craig said.
“Could you . . . ?” Dawn glanced toward the government building, then quickly looked away when Tolya Sanguinati stepped up to the open window and looked down at them.
“Yeah, okay.” Aware that she should be heading up to the mayor’s office to talk to Tolya, Jana looked at Becky, who seemed to be studying something in the grass. She hoped it wasn’t poop. “Drop the proposal off at the sheriff’s office this afternoon and I’ll take a look at it. Right now, I need a favor. That’s Becky Gott.”
“Okay,” Craig said.
“I’d like you . . .”
Horses. Screaming.
The Eagle launched itself s
kyward. The Ravens were suddenly in motion.
A fight, Isobel had said. Looked like it had arrived. But who were they fighting?
Jana gave Craig a shove. “Grab Becky and get inside.”
“Where . . . ?” Dawn began, scooping up her own puppy.
“Anywhere! Just get inside. Now!” Certain that Rusty would run away from strangers if she gave her to Dawn, Jana unclipped the leash from the pup’s collar and dropped it. Better to let the dog run and hide than have the leash tangle in something and leave Rusty vulnerable to whatever had frightened the horses.
Drawing her weapon out of the holster, she strode across the square, trusting Craig and Dawn to look after Becky. If she could reach the office, she’d take a moment to shut Rusty inside.
She was almost across the square when she heard gunshots coming from the direction of the livery stable.
As she looked in that direction, a woman on the other side of the square screamed—Dawn or Becky. Rusty stopped suddenly and barked, a frightened, frantic sound.
Pivoting, Jana cocked the hammer and raised her gun.
Two dogs racing toward her from the direction of the stables. The one in the lead was a big brute. Nowhere near as big as the Wolves, but the biggest dog she’d ever seen.
In the second before she pulled the trigger, she wished she’d asked about a firing range where officers must have practiced, wished she’d tested the revolver. Wished . . .
Sound exploded around her. Even as the gunshot filled her ears and head, she heard the sound of fighting off to her right and saw both dogs still coming toward her—not running from the livery stable, running at her.
No time. No time.
She shot the first dog in the chest and put two bullets into the second dog just before it launched itself at her. A savage cry had her spinning around in time to shoot the dog that had been charging her from behind. She had one round left, and the fourth dog . . .
