by Anne Bishop
“Come on, Sam,” Meg said, too scared now to do more than whisper.
All the way back to the office, Sam ran to the end of the leash, then stopped and kept watch until she caught up to him. And all the way back, Ferus trailed behind them, a silent threat.
Memory. A movie clip showing a pack of ordinary wolves pulling down a deer. Beginning to feed before the deer was dead. Ripping. Tearing. Gorging on fresh meat.
They had watched that same clip for an entire afternoon because one of the girls had fought against being cut, and the resulting prophecy had been of inferior quality. And while the girls watched the clip, the Walking Names had whispered over and over, “That could be you. If we ever stop taking care of you, that is what the wolves will do to you.”
They took care of property, not people. Willing to risk her life in order to have a life, she had run and had ended up in a Courtyard, hiding among beings who were even more dangerous than the man who saw her as nothing but a living tool. Despite Simon snarling at her about one thing or another and always threatening to eat her because she had done something he didn’t like, and despite the conditioned fear of the Others the Walking Names had tried to instill in her, she hadn’t thought of herself as prey. Until now.
She didn’t need to cut skin to know that was exactly how Ferus saw her. To him, human equaled prey, equaled meat. She didn’t need the razor to know it wasn’t a question of if he would pull her down and rip her open like the deer she had seen in that movie clip; it was a question of when.
She had been so busy building a life here, she had forgotten the other part of her personal vision. She was going to die in this Courtyard.
But she’d also seen herself in that narrow bed, and Simon pacing in that white room. How could she be there if the Wolves tore her apart?
Sam yipped, and she realized they had reached the office’s back door. Her hands shook as she struggled to get the key in the lock.
Once she had the door open and Sam had darted inside, she dared to look at the other Wolf. “Thank you for carrying the lunch.”
He just stared at her. Then he held out the lunch box.
Taking it, she backed inside the office and closed the door—and almost wet herself when the furious howl sounded from the other side of the door.
Panting in her effort to breathe, she set all the bags on the small table and ignored the snow she was tracking on the floor. Slipping the leash off her wrist and stripping off her coat, she went into the bathroom, shutting the door before Sam could follow her.
She needed to pee but now she couldn’t relax her muscles enough to go. Finally able to take care of business, she left the bathroom in time to see Sam climb up on a chair and try to snatch the lunch box.
Grabbing the pup, she dried off his feet, removed her boots, and cleaned up the floor. Then, with him dancing around her, she opened the lunch box. A container of beef and vegetable soup for her, and a smaller container of soup for Sam. Dumping out the untouched kibble, she poured the soup in his bowl, dipping her finger into it to make sure it wasn’t too hot. He began lapping up soup as soon as she got out of his way, so she opened her own container. That soup was hot, and she realized Tess must have deliberately let Sam’s serving cool off. A cheese sandwich was included with her lunch. Tearing off a piece, she gave it to Sam, then forced herself to eat a bite of the sandwich and a couple of spoonfuls of soup. Her stomach was still flipping with fear, so even that little bit of food made her queasy.
Giving up, she heated water while she wrapped up the food—and wondered if she was going to have to puppy-proof the fridge and lower cupboards.
After making a cup of peppermint tea, she grabbed the carry bag of books and headed for the front room, intending to open up early and take a better look at the books in between deliveries.
The box of sugar lumps she’d left on the sorting table was knocked over and the top of the box was torn. Drawers where she kept her office supplies were pulled open.
And there was someone making furtive noises in the front room.
Quietly turning the knob, Meg yanked the Private door open, then stared at the Crow who, flustered at being caught, almost fell off the counter.
“Jake?”
Jenni had told her that Jake liked playing the pen game with the humans who brought packages, and he intended to help the Meg whenever he was assigned to watch that part of the Courtyard.
Help was not the word that came to mind as Meg unlocked the front door. And how had Jake gotten in? As far as she knew, only a few members of the Business Association had keys to the Liaison’s Office. Well, he could have slipped in with one of the deliverymen and hidden so he could rummage through the drawers while she was out of the office.
She picked up two empty boxes from the floor, then looked at all the pencils that were scattered on the counter, along with most of the pens she usually kept in the holder. She wasn’t sure what the Crow was building, but he’d certainly gone through the drawers to find what he wanted.
“Jake, you can’t have the pencils and pens,” Meg said. She reached for one of the pens. He pecked her. “Hey!” She had had her fill of wildlife today and didn’t need a pesky Crow stealing her things.
Caw!
“I need those pens!”
Caw!
“Jake!” Her eyes filled with tears, which was stupid. It was all stupid, but she had been scared twice in the space of a few minutes, and she didn’t need this—whatever it was.
Jake tipped his head this way and that. Then he fluttered around his creation, pulled out a blue pen, and offered it to her. When she took it, he selected a red pen and offered it. Finally he gave back a black pen and began rebuilding whatever he was building on her counter.
“Mine,” she said, sniffling as she put the three pens under the counter with her clipboard.
She was about to ask about the sugar when Asia dashed into the office.
“Gods above and below, Meg. What’s going on? Is someone hurt?”
“Hurt?”
“That scream. Didn’t you hear it? I was looking at the display of pottery in the window of Earth Native and I heard that awful scream. And all the birds suddenly flying around, going crazy and making a racket.” Asia threw her hands up, causing Jake to flutter his wings and caw in protest.
Meg wanted to slink into the sorting room and lock all the doors and never come out. She would stay there until she dried up into human jerky.
Then she considered what the Wolves would happily do with that kind of jerky.
“You heard that?”
“Of course I heard that!” Asia edged away from the Crow and lowered her voice. “Do you know who it was?”
“Me,” Meg mumbled, her face burning with embarrassment. “It was me.”
“You?”
“I was startled. And even little Wolves look pretty big when they’re running right at you.”
Of course, that was the moment Sam chose to stand in the doorway, wagging his tail and licking his chops.
“Oh,” Asia gushed, leaning on the counter but careful not to have any part of herself beyond the counter. “Isn’t he the sweetest thing!” Her eyes flicked up to the doorway. “Speaking of sweetest things, you must have a mighty big sweet tooth, Meg.”
Meg glanced back. “Oh, the sugar is for the ponies. They get a special treat on Moonsday.” She looked at Jake. “Do you know how the box got knocked over and the top torn open?”
The Crow lifted his wings in a way that perfectly mimicked a shrug.
Meg leaned closer to Jake. “If someone hid a lump of sugar in order to attract bugs to eat, that someone isn’t going to be allowed to play with the pencils anymore.”
He stared at her. Then he fluttered down to the floor, pecked around the edge of the counter for a moment, flew back up, and dropped the sugar lump on the counter.
Sighing, Meg took the sugar lump—and heard something fall over in the back room.
“Asia, this isn’t a good day for a visit.”
“I can see that,” Asia replied. “You take care. Maybe we can grab some lunch in one of those places across the street tomorrow.”
“I’m not sure. I’m looking after Sam, and he’s a handful.”
A thump, followed by Sam loudly talking back at something.
“I have to go,” Meg said, hurrying into the back room.
For a moment all she could do was stare. Sam had somehow dragged a chair across the room and was climbing up to reach the box of puppy cookies she’d left on the counter. The fridge door was open, and scraps of her cheese sandwich were scattered on the floor, along with the wrapping, which had been ripped into pieces. Either he wasn’t interested or he hadn’t been able to grab her container of soup. She didn’t want to think of how much of a mess that would have made.
Deciding she would drink her now-cold peppermint tea before dealing with Sam’s helping himself to her lunch, she grabbed the pup and went into the sorting room, firmly closing the door to the back room.
That’s when she saw the box of sugar on the table and realized she no longer had the sugar lump she’d taken from Jake and had no clue where she’d dropped it.
Slipping into the front room to retrieve her tea, she saw Ferus standing outside the consulate, talking with Elliot Wolfgard and gesturing toward the office. Easy to guess what they were talking about: Sam on a leash. Vlad and Henry didn’t seem concerned about it when she and Sam walked around the complex, but she had a feeling the Wolves weren’t going to be as understanding about buddies and safety lines.
“Crow in the front room, puppy in the middle room, crazy Wolf outside,” she muttered. “Could today get any better?”
Apparently, it could. Fortunately, she noticed the bug Jake must have dropped in her tea as a peace offering before she took a sip.
* * *
Entering the Stag and Hare, a restaurant directly across from the Courtyard’s delivery entrance, Asia settled at a table by the windows. The cold came off the plates of glass in waves, and most of the customers were huddled at the tables closest to the fireplace in the center of the main room.
Keeping her coat on, Asia placed her order and stared out the window, turning over the things she had seen as she considered what she could use to her advantage.
Meg had screamed, and all the terra indigene in that part of the Courtyard had responded, even those who worked in the consulate. According to Darrell Adams, a human who worked for Elliot Wolfgard, everyone at the consulate thought of the Liaison’s Office like a poor relation—something that had to be tolerated but was ignored as much as possible.
Poor relation or not, even they had paid some attention when Meg screamed. So there was a way to redirect the Others’ attention, if only for a minute or two. Plenty of things could be accomplished in a minute or two.
And there was that Wolf pup wearing a harness. Could he shift into a boy, or did the harness constrict his ability to change into human form? If one of the Others could be contained and controlled, her backers probably knew a few collectors who would risk the wrath of the terra indigene to have a Wolf for a pet, if only for a little while. They might even consider using a tamed Wolf in a few horror movies—at least until he became old enough to be dangerous.
Asia smiled at the waiter when he brought her a bowl of soup. As the simple meal warmed her, she looked at the Courtyard and smiled again.
Meg was looking after a pup while Simon Wolfgard was away. Didn’t need to be a genius to add up two and two and get money.
After all, holding someone for ransom was often a lucrative, if risky, business.
CHAPTER 13
On Sunsday morning, the new set of bowls and the dog bed for the office were delivered as promised, and Sam was delighted to have his own comfortable spot where he could watch Meg as she sorted mail and packages. Boone brought over a small container of chopped meat, claiming it was now a regular order. Meg didn’t ask what kind of meat it was or who had placed the order. She just warmed up the meat and stirred it into the kibble.
That morning, there was no sign of Jake Crowgard. There was also no sign of any of the pencils or pens he’d been playing with—including the three that were supposed to be hers. Between deliveries, she called toy stores, found what she was looking for, and got a promise from the store that she would have the merchandise by that afternoon.
Sometimes Sam hid from the deliverymen; sometimes he watched them from the sorting-room doorway—and Meg watched the way a couple of them studied the red harness just a little too long for her liking.
And too often throughout the day, when she thought about the vision of the men in black and Sam howling in terror, she found herself rubbing her arms to relieve the prickling under her skin while she struggled with the craving to make another cut.
* * *
By Windsday, Meg and Sam had a workable morning routine, and for the first time since beginning her puppy-sitting stint seven days ago, they got to the office without rushing.
As she opened the front door, Meg stuck her head out and smiled at the Crows who had taken up their usual position on the wall. “Tell Jake I have a package for him.”
After setting up for business, she unclipped the leash and removed Sam’s harness. She made that decision after waking up twice, scared by dreams she couldn’t remember. She would keep the harness and leash handy, but she didn’t want him wearing it when it wasn’t necessary.
Besides, Merri Lee told her that Ferus had been reassigned to work with Blair at the Utilities Complex. And yesterday Henry suddenly came into the office several times to check on a delivery or look through a catalog he claimed he didn’t have. It hadn’t escaped her notice that the Grizzly showed up every time Elliot Wolfgard left the consulate. Realizing Blair and Henry had done those things because some of the Wolves were upset about the harness was another reason for Sam not to wear it.
“We don’t need the safety line when we’re inside the office,” she told him when he tried to leap up and grab the harness off the counter. “All you have to remember is not to run out when we fill the mail baskets for the ponies.”
He talked back, but she gave him cookies and another piece of the stag stick, which he took back to his bed to gnaw on, ending the discussion.
Jake Crowgard wasn’t as easy to distract.
Meg didn’t know how he was getting in, but he was on the counter, studying the empty pen holder when she came back to the front room. Setting her peppermint tea on the sorting table, where it would be out of reach of any gifts he might want to drop into it, she pulled out a box from under the counter, opened it, and showed him the wooden wheels, colored sticks, and various connectors.
“Give back all my pencils and pens—and promise to leave them alone from now on—and you can have this,” she said.
Negotiations would have been simpler if Jake had shifted to his human form so that he could actually talk to her. She was sure that was the reason he didn’t shift. He tried to pretend he didn’t understand what she was saying, so she smiled at him, closed the box, took it into the sorting room, and shut the Private door.
She ignored Jake’s cawing while she sorted the mail. She ignored Sam’s howling when she unlocked the sorting-room’s outside door, then went into the back room to fetch her coat and the bowl of carrot chunks that was the ponies’ treat that day.
Sam stood in front of the outside door, mouthing his end of the leash and wagging his tail. Clearly, having a door open to the outside required the safety line. Wondering if she had emphasized the buddy system a little too much, Meg slipped the leash’s loop over her wrist and picked up the first two bundles of mail just as a chorus of neighs announced the arrival of the ponies. Pleased with himself, Sam stayed beside her as she walked back and forth between the table and the ponies, loading their baskets with mail, catalogs from nearby stores, and flat packages.
Once the ponies were on their way and Sam had ducked out just long enough to yellow up some snow, Meg locked the doors. Then she checked the front roo
m. Jake wasn’t in sight, but there were three pencils on the counter.
She took the pencils and put two colored sticks and a wheel in their place.
When she closed for lunch, she snuck the toy box out of the office and locked it in her BOW. Then she dropped Sam off at Henry’s yard for an hour of playtime while she went to A Little Bite for a leisurely meal.
Returning to the office, she found three more pencils and four pens on the counter—and a black feather in the sorting room. Apparently, Jake had tried to get around trading by searching for the box. She felt oddly proud that she’d been sneakier than a Crow.
She never saw him during the afternoon delivery hours, but every time she checked the front room, a few more pens or pencils would be on the counter. When the pen holder and the pencil boxes were full, Meg set all the remaining toy pieces on the counter and locked up for the day. She had deliveries to make, and she needed to get Sam settled at home before heading out.
As she and Sam went out the back door, Starr Crowgard ran up to them.
“Jake wants to know if you found the last pencils,” Starr said.
“Yes, I did.” Meg paused, her key in the lock.
“He wondered if he could have the rest of the sticks.”
He wondered? Meg thought as she opened the door. “Sure.”
They went to the front room. Meg put the remaining pieces back in the box and gave it all to Starr, who shifted from foot to foot.
It was a mistake to think the Others were exactly like the birds or animals they mimicked, but after living in those forms for so many generations, they had absorbed some of the behaviors of those animals. Putting together what she knew about crows with the way Starr was looking at her, Meg tried not to sigh. “How many boxes would you like for the Corvine social room?”
Starr held up five fingers.
“I’ll order them tomorrow.”
Smiling, Starr followed her out, then hurried toward the Market Square, where her sisters—and, no doubt, Jake—were waiting at Sparkles and Junk to finish building whatever they were building.
