by Anne Bishop
“Who sounded the alarm?” Jana asked.
“The Owlgard,” Judith said. “A pair of them moved into the hay barn after the troubles. Stewart installed an Owl door for them and built a kind of platform under it so that, once the chicks hatched, the adults could be outside if they wanted and still be close to the nest.” Taking the glass from her daughter, she sipped some water before handing back the glass. “Anyway, all of a sudden one of the adults was swooping around the chicken coop, which they’ve never done before, and I guess one of them went to the stables and shifted to tell the men there were strangers in the house. Stewart and the boys came running, but Manuel had been heading for the house anyway because he heard a car driving away fast and felt uneasy enough that he wanted to check on Melanie.”
“Manuel rushed in, shouting when he saw the man and realized . . .” Melanie gagged a little before regaining control. “The man rammed the knife into Manuel before running out the door. I heard Dad shouting and he shot at the car, but the men got away.”
“The car has a broken taillight now and a broken window,” Judith said. “We saw the glass when we were getting Manuel to the truck to bring him here.” She thought for a moment. “Stewart said the getaway car swerved, and he thinks he might have hit the driver.”
“You’ve never seen the man before?” Jana asked. “Could he be someone who works at another ranch, or someone who used to stop in Bennett and might be doing that again?”
Mother and daughter shook their heads.
Tolya opened the slim leather case he’d brought with him, took out a picture, and set it on the table. “Was this the man who attacked you?”
Melanie stared at the picture. “No. This is the other man, the one who warned him to get out.”
* * *
* * *
Abigail swept and polished and vacuumed. She dusted the blinds and mopped the hallways and cleaned the restrooms in the office building that held a variety of small businesses. She didn’t mind cleaning the offices. At least there weren’t any surprises. The two attorneys who had come to Bennett didn’t keep bowls of tumbled stones on their desks. And the desks intended for their personal assistants didn’t have anything like that either.
Each office was made up of two rooms, and as houses were cleared, the attorneys’ rooms were piling up with boxes that contained documents that might help locate living heirs.
She considered approaching the men and asking if they needed help sorting the mail that was still coming in for Bennett’s previous residents. If someone sorted the personal mail from all the rest, that would be helpful, wouldn’t it?
And seeing the personal mail would help her figure out which cities still had survivors and might be a place where she could disappear if she needed to disappear again.
Out of the corner of her eye, Abigail saw a shape where a shape shouldn’t be. She stumbled back a step, almost getting her feet tangled in the vacuum cleaner’s cord.
“Gods above and below, you scared me,” she said.
Virgil Wolfgard stared at her. “Tolya wants to see you.”
“Why?”
Virgil said nothing.
“I have work to do. We’re all behind today, and I have more offices to clean.” Her heart beat so hard, she wondered if he could hear it.
“They’ll wait. Tolya won’t.”
“I have to tell my boss. I can’t leave work without telling my boss. She’s just down the hall.”
Virgil bared his teeth, revealing fangs that weren’t meant for a human mouth.
Abigail felt a desperate need to pee and wondered what he’d do if she wet herself. Probably wouldn’t matter to him. He’d drag her out of the building and up the street to wherever Tolya waited.
“Let’s go.” Virgil stepped back from the doorway.
She bolted past him, then stopped. “I have to lock up. I have to . . .”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her down the hallway, down the stairs, and out of the building.
“Why are you angry with me?” she wailed. “I didn’t do anything!”
People—humans—came out of shops and some looked like they might help. Until they saw Virgil, saw the red flickers in the amber eyes—a sign of anger in the Wolfgard. Then they slunk into their shops.
She should have known she wouldn’t get any help from these gutless wonders. Not even Kelley, who came to the door of the jewelry store but didn’t even ask what was going on.
When they reached the Bird Cage Saloon and Abigail saw Jana, she hoped she had at least one ally. But she wished it had been Barb Debany in the saloon instead of Jana. Barb was a sure thing. Jana was still a question mark.
“I have to pee,” she said. “I really have to pee.”
Virgil released her arm and looked at Jana. “Go with her.”
Abigail hustled to keep up with Jana as they headed to the toilets, which were located past the pool table, which she thought was fine for the men, but would the women feel easy about using the facilities when the pool table was in use? In her experience, only rough men—the kind women were smart to avoid—drank and played pool in saloons.
She wasn’t assigned to clean the saloon, so the facilities were an unwelcome surprise. Not individual stalls. It was just a single room with a toilet and sink. She hurried inside and started to close the door, but Jana put her shoulder against it and had a hand on the doorknob.
“I won’t come in with you, but the door has to stay open a little ways,” Jana said.
“What? Why?”
“Abby, if you really have to pee, do it.” There was a hurtful sharpness in Jana’s voice.
“I guess being a friend doesn’t count for much here.”
Jana didn’t respond to the verbal jab, confirming that the deputy wasn’t as gullible as her housemate.
She did what she had to because she really had to. When she tugged on the door to exit, Jana released her hold on the doorknob but looked ready to ram the door if Abigail tried to lock herself in.
“Why is everyone being so mean?”
“No one is being mean,” Jana replied. “Just cooperate, okay? We believe you can answer some questions about an attack on a ranch early this morning.”
“An attack? But I was home until I reported to work. Ask Kelley. He’ll tell you.” He might not have come to her rescue just now, but he wouldn’t lie to get her in trouble. Not with the Sanguinati or the Wolves.
“No one thinks you were there, just that you have some answers.”
Jana escorted her to the table farthest from the saloon’s entrance, where Tolya waited. Abigail sat in the chair opposite the Sanguinati while Jana took the seat beside her. Virgil stood behind her, and every breath he took felt like a threat.
She’d been this scared at other times in her life, but she’d always managed to keep her nerve enough to get out of trouble. She’d keep her nerve this time too.
A sheet of paper lay in the center of the table. Tolya turned it over and pushed it toward her, saying nothing.
He didn’t have to say anything. She’d seen a drawing like this before when Jesse Walker had been asking about fortune-telling cards and she’d shown Jesse and Shelley Bookman her decks of tarot cards.
“The blood prophet drew this, didn’t she?” Abigail said, her voice barely loud enough to be heard by sharp ears.
“Yes,” Tolya replied.
Bitch. No denying that she was the woman in the drawing.
Tolya leaned forward and tapped the other figure. “Who is he, Abigail?”
Do you know what we do to traitors, to anyone who talks about the clan?
She remembered the man her father and uncle had brought in to do a job with them. She remembered what had happened to him after the job because he’d drunk too much and talked too much, telling secrets to the whore he’d bounced on that night.
Sh
e remembered her father’s hands on her shoulders, holding her in the chair, while Judd McCall—the one some of her father’s associates called the Knife, the one she had feared even more than her father—unwrapped a stained handkerchief and showed her the traitor’s tongue.
“A man who was with him attacked a young woman and stabbed a ranch hand who came to her aid,” Jana said. “You can’t protect him, Abby.”
Do you know what we do to anyone who talks?
“They’ll kill me if I tell,” she whispered.
“Based on this picture, we can guess who he is, but we need a name,” Jana persisted. “We need his name, Abby.”
She could claim she didn’t know, couldn’t be sure. He’d been nineteen the last time she’d seen him and still had a bit of a baby face. That softness was gone now—at least in the picture.
“You can tell us, or you can be on the next train out of Bennett,” Tolya said.
“To where?”
They didn’t answer.
Abigail shuddered. She’d already told them some things about her family, but naming individuals, identifying individuals . . .
The Knife, the man she feared more than her father, had rubbed that severed tongue over her lips, pressed it against her mouth—then stepped away as she vomited on herself, her father’s hands not allowing her to lean forward and puke on the floor.
“Dalton,” she finally said. “That’s my brother, Dalton Blackstone.”
* * *
* * *
Businesses were blooming like flowers after a good rain.
Tobias put the large pizza and sandwiches on the passenger seat of his pickup, then looked around the town square.
Was the town blooming too fast? A month ago there had been fewer than a hundred people, mostly young men looking for adventure and opportunities. They had ignored any squeamishness they had felt about coming to a place like Bennett and had focused on the chance to learn a trade or run their own businesses. Bennett was an empty place that could be filled, and it seemed like there were new people arriving by car or train every day—and humans were quickly outnumbering the terra indigene who were, in a very real sense, the only protection these newcomers had against what lived beyond the town’s lights.
Just that afternoon, he and Jana had taken the horses out and ridden past the newly defined boundaries of the town so that she could look around when she wasn’t alone. And he’d wanted to go out a few blocks beyond the new boundaries to look for any signs that some of that dog pack might have survived. They’d found no sign of dogs. Instead they’d come across two cars full of people who were snooping around some houses, looking for a way inside. The strangers had become wary when they noticed the badge pinned to Jana’s shirt.
She’d been polite about explaining that, despite the civilized trappings, they were standing in the wild country. The strangers hadn’t liked being asked about where they were from and why they were on the outskirts of Bennett instead of coming into town.
They weren’t outlaws or serious looters. For one thing, even the girls—and they were barely old enough that he would call them women—had been half drunk, which meant they’d carried the booze with them or had broken into a house or two already and hauled away some ill-gotten gains. But seeing the way one of the men kept a hand behind his back, Tobias had been sure the man had a gun tucked under his shirt. That didn’t make the man an outlaw, but it did make him a fool’s kind of dangerous.
That was the moment when Mel had begun snorting and dancing and trying to move out despite Jana’s hold on the reins. Having raised and trained the buckskin, Tobias knew the warning signs and knew there was nothing Jana could do, so he had urged his horse forward, leading them to the nearest side street and away from the other people.
Moments after they were out of sight, there were yells and screams. Twisting around, he and Jana had watched a mangled garbage can sail over the roof the house where the strangers had been poking around and smash into one of the cars.
The snarl that followed had both horses bolting as car doors slammed and engines revved. He hadn’t heard the cars peel out and drive away. Jana had looked sickly pale, and he’d figured that she was also imagining the worst-case scenario.
He hadn’t told her there was no point going back. She’d already known that. They were in the wild country, out of her jurisdiction. On any other day she might have turned around anyway to see if she could help. But not today.
Once she’d brought Mel back under control, she’d said, “That’s how he responds to Elders?”
And Tobias had replied, “To Elders and rattlesnakes. If he’s uneasy, it’s good to pay attention.”
They had finished their ride without further incident, but she had returned to the sheriff’s office determined to have street maps printed with the new and official boundaries. He’d spent the rest of the day buying supplies and making arrangements to pick up any perishable items first thing in the morning.
Too many things had happened that day that would chase him in his sleep, so he’d been glad to receive the invitation to a movie night at Virgil’s house. Barb had Wolf Team movies, which were something none of them except Barb and John Wolfgard had seen.
As he parked in the driveway of the Wolfgard house and collected the food, Tobias felt the weight of something on his skin—a sensation of being watched. He felt that weight lift when Virgil stepped out of the house and said, “Need a hand?”
“No, I’ve got it. Wasn’t sure what everyone might like, so I brought a few things.”
“Barbara Ellen brought a roast for Kane.” Virgil frowned. “The wolverine says the puppy has to stay at their house.”
Tobias stopped short and stared at the Wolf. “The wolverine? You mean Jana?”
A growl was the only answer.
“The pup had a pretty traumatic day. She could use some quiet time in a familiar place. And she’ll have the bird for company.”
Now a grunt was the reply as Virgil opened the door for Tobias.
Since he didn’t think Virgil and Kane knew much, if anything, about televisions or electronics of any kind, Tobias figured the big TV and disc player, along with a stereo system that produced a pang of envy, had been in the house with the rest of the furniture.
Food and plates were set out on the dining room table. After everyone made their selection, Tobias, Barb, Jana, and John took their places on the sofa and chairs. Virgil sat on the floor near Kane, casually tearing the crust off his piece of pizza and giving it to his brother before concentrating on filling his own belly.
Barb figured out how to work that model disc player, and they settled down to watch one of the movies about the Wolf Team, which Barb explained were movies produced by the terra indigene and were based on books about the same characters.
A pack of juvenile Wolves who investigated when the terra indigene thought humans were doing something sneaky or were otherwise up to no good, or came to the rescue when someone—or something—needed rescuing.
“Oh, forelock!” Barb clapped one hand over her eyes and then spread her fingers to see part of the screen. “I’ve seen this movie before but I forgot when this part came up.”
Jana sucked in a breath but didn’t look away. Virgil and Kane cocked their heads and watched with focused interest.
This should be required viewing for everyone who wants to live in Bennett, Tobias thought. Maybe humans would be more careful if they knew this is what the Others thought of us. He considered Virgil’s reaction to the story and the characters. It’s certainly the way Bennett’s sheriff views humans. Most humans.
He wondered if Jana knew Virgil called her the wolverine. It sure wasn’t a compliment, but he thought Virgil said the word with a kind of wary respect for another predator.
There were places in the movie when he laughed even though he wasn’t sure the humor was intentional. And there were place
s where he cringed, thinking about his mother dealing with Morgan and Chase Wolfgard. By the time the credits were rolling, and he noticed how many names ended in “gard,” he’d decided he needed a copy of at least one of the Wolf Team movies as well as the books, which he was sure had never been sold in the Bennett bookstore. Fortunately, John Wolfgard had brought two full sets of the Wolf Team books to sell, along with thrillers by someone named Alan Wolfgard. After telling John he would stop by the bookstore before heading home in the morning, Tobias thanked his hosts and prepared to call it a night.
“You’re going to the hotel?” Virgil asked.
“Yep. They’re almost full up with people waiting to choose a house, but Anya Sanguinati has decided to hold some rooms for overnight guests.”
“I’ll go with you. It is dark. Humans should be going home.”
And the Elders will be moving through the town, watching.
It wasn’t said, but Tobias understood the protection Virgil’s presence offered—and he appreciated it.
“Thanks. I’ll walk Barb and Jana to their house and be back.”
“Oh, you don’t . . .” Barb glanced at Jana and pressed her lips together.
As they walked outside, Tobias said, “Hold up a minute.” He went to his pickup and retrieved the book he’d tucked into the storage compartment behind his seat. “I picked this up for you.”
Jana took the book and tilted it to read the title in the light spilling out of the house. “A book about training puppies?”
“I thought it would come in handy.”
She laughed. “This explains why John got so flustered when I asked him if there was a book like this in the store. You’d already bought it.”
They started down the sidewalk, Barb a few paces ahead of them.
