Hunter's Trail (A Scarlett Bernard Novel)

by Melissa F. Olson

  “How can you,” I said very quietly, “when you don’t really know me?”

  He stepped all the way into my personal space, touching my cheek with one warm palm. “You’re wrong,” Jesse said gently. He smelled wonderful, and it took every second of growing up I had done recently to not throw my arms around him.

  Instead, I sighed and took a step sideways, away from him. “Maybe I am. But then why do I feel so right?”

  He stared at me for a long moment, hurt, and I felt anxiety and sorrow twist in my gut. Then Jesse shook his head in disbelief. “This is about Eli. You’re pushing me away because of him.”

  “Eli’s out of the picture,” I corrected him. “He left LA.”

  “Then it’s still about Olivia,” he insisted. “You think you can’t be happy because of what happened with her.”

  I gave him a sad smile. “No, Jesse. For once, this isn’t about the psycho hose beast. This is just me.”

  He paced a few feet away from me, and then turned on his heel and came back. “Do you love me?” he demanded. I blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Do you?” he pressed.

  “Yes,” I said quietly. “I love you. But I don’t trust you.”

  Jesse rocked back like I had hit him.

  I could have kept talking. I could have explained that I trusted him to have my back, to keep me safe, but I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t wake up next to me in a week, a month, a year, and decide that I was a stranger. That I was tainted.

  I could have talked and talked, but we would have always ended up back here, with that betrayed expression on his face. “I need to take a walk,” he said abruptly.

  “Jesse . . . ,” I began.

  He waved an arm to dismiss whatever I was about to say and marched off toward the front of the house.

  I breathed in and out, slowly. And I let him go.

  After our talk, the excitement finally began to wind down. I texted Dashiell with the go-ahead, and he arranged for an anonymous tip to be called in to the police station nearest the ugly wedding cake-condo. A few minutes after Petra Corbett returned from Will’s house, the police knocked on her door and found her in the middle of packing her bags. They claimed that they’d received a report of a man screaming in pain, and an annoyed Petra invited them in to prove that the condo was empty. When the cops opened the door to the back bedroom, however, they found a very dead Henry Remus, stark naked, lying next to a big pile of creepy, macabre prop house items: jaws full of fangs, vicious claws, stone knives. They all had Remus’s blood on them. There was also a bunch of Remus’s blood and hair inside a huge wire cage, along with a totally illegal Taser.

  Jesse had hated planting that evidence, but he’d agreed it was the only option we had left. None of those things had any fingerprints on them, of course, but later we learned that when they searched the front bedroom, the police found a lot of weirdo occult stuff: spell books and charms and creepy black candles. And those things were covered in Petra’s DNA.

  Personally, I enjoyed the irony of the Luparii scout getting arrested for the one murder we were sure she hadn’t committed. Jesse saw it a little differently. “She wanted the nova wolf,” he said righteously to Will. He wasn’t meeting my eyes. “And she got him.”

  “If she hires a really good attorney and fights hard, that evidence may not stick,” Will warned us.

  I shrugged. “I bet they’ll at least deport her ass, though.”

  An hour later, Jesse called the relevant LAPD station and confirmed that Petra had been officially booked for murder. The pack was free to go back into the park and change.

  Which meant that Corry was done for the night. I was supposed to take her home after I’d walked the pack into the park, but Jesse pulled me aside and asked me if he could drive her home instead. “I’m ready to be done,” he said plainly.

  I flinched. “Jesse . . . ,” I said, touching his arm.

  He shook it off and started to walk toward the door. Then he paused. “You’re wrong, you know,” he said, turning to face me. He was so angry.

  “About what?”

  “I do know you,” he said firmly. “These things you do—the things we did today—you push them out of your head. Terrible things.” He stepped closer and added, not unkindly, “What happens when you can’t run away from them anymore? What happens when everything you’ve seen catches up with you?”

  I recoiled as though he’d slapped me. We stood there looking at each other for a moment, and then he stepped in and kissed me on the head. “The thing that scares me,” he said very quietly, “is that by then, maybe you won’t find them so terrible.”

  And he left, taking Corry with him.

  Chapter 49

  I didn’t cry, although I wanted to. I was sure I had done the right thing, but watching Jesse walk away still felt suspiciously like giving up on my own future.

  When they were gone, I extended my radius to keep the wolves human until we could get a little deeper in the park. “Everybody ready?” I called.

  About half of them left their pj’s at Will’s house, unashamed, while the rest of them kept them on. We hiked into the woods, going very slowly in my honor. We were a strange procession: almost twenty people compromising a mixed bag of ages and races, gathered around a girl with a cane like they were my Secret Service detail. Will brought up the rear to make sure there weren’t any stragglers who got out of my radius. Nobody spoke much on the way, but after a few minutes I became aware of a man sidling toward me. I took a deep breath, working to keep the concentration required to extend the radius, and looked closer at him.

  He was African American, with snow-white hair, and he looked like he was in his mid-fifties. I recognized him right away. He had been on a flight from New York with me a couple of weeks earlier, and he’d sent me champagne out of gratitude for making him human on the long flight. “Hello, again,” I said politely. “I didn’t realize you were actually part of the LA pack.”

  “That’s because we haven’t been properly introduced,” he said cheerfully, with a honeyed Georgia accent. He wore stately flannel pajamas in a navy blue that disappeared in the darkness. His movements were easy and fluid, which felt a little ironic given that he looked like a senior citizen and I was walking with a cane. “Deacon Crosley,” he said, holding out his left hand so I wouldn’t have to stop using my cane. “I’m a photographer.”

  “Scarlett Bernard,” I replied, shaking his hand. “Wait, I’ve seen your name before. You took some of the pictures at Will’s bar.”

  “I did.”

  “They’re beautiful,” I said honestly.

  “Well, thank you, miss,” he said, pleased. Then he added, “If you don’t mind me saying, you sure look tired. Run hard and put away wet, as we used to say.”

  “Yes, sir. It’s possible that I bit off more than I could chew today,” I admitted.

  Even in the dim light from my flashlight, I could see his eyes twinkle a little. “But you had to find that out for yourself, didn’t you?”

  Those words sparked something in my head, an idea I’d have to look at later. But at that moment, Will called from the back, “That’s far enough, Scarlett.”

  I smiled at Crosley and stopped, closing my eyes and extending my circle as far as I could so that those who had waited to disrobe could get a little ways away for privacy. “Go ahead,” Will said gently, and the werewolves at the front of the pack began to step forward, out of my radius.

  I’d never actually seen the pack on full moon night before. I knew that during the rest of the month, changing into a werewolf is a painful process that can take as long as four or five minutes. On the full moon, though, the magic calls them quickly, and the change is smoother. I watched the first row step away and crouch, and there was a moment that looked like water running over rocks, a sort of shimmering of skin and muscle followed by sprouting fur. It’s like watching something being born, I thought. Natural magic at its most terrifying.

  Those wolves moved aside, stretching
and shaking out their fur, and another group moved forward, and then another. Esmé turned out to be a lovely tan wolf that could have made a fortune shooting wildlife calendars. Miguel, the wall of muscle who had terrorized Molly almost a week earlier, was a muscular, rangy wolf with a dusting of black where most of the others had brown. Deacon Crosley was a grizzled gray wolf. He yawned once, displaying a mouthful of fangs that would make any predator proud.

  They all trotted off into the darkness, deeper into the woods. I watched them go for a while, entranced. Before she’d gotten very far, Will called to Esmé, who paused and waited at the edge of my radius. Will walked Lizzy toward her, whispering something in a low, soothing voice. Lizzy nodded and took the last careful step away from me, and towards her life as a werewolf. I looked away, not wanting to watch her go through the change again. I can be cowardly like that. When I looked back, Lizzy was in her wolf form again, and Esmé was nuzzling her, nudging her, getting her to move. I found myself smiling.

  Will came and stood beside me. “You did good work today,” he said quietly.

  “Bullshit,” spat a voice behind us.

  Will and I both turned. Lydia stood there, still dressed, the last werewolf beside Will to change. She looked very sane, but that was almost scarier than when she’d been twitchy. She was trembling with anger.

  “What’s wrong, Lydia?” Will said patiently.

  “I think this . . . person . . . killed Anastasia,” she growled, pointing at me. “You-all seem to be playing nice, pretending like everything’s fine now. But Ana’s gone.” Her voice broke on that last word.

  Confused, Will looked at me. “I thought—Scarlett?”

  Fuck it. “It’s true,” I said, as calmly as I could manage. “Anastasia attacked me two nights ago. I think maybe she followed me home from your house.” I pulled down the collar of my jacket, showing them the bruises. “She tried to kill me. I stabbed her in the heart.”

  Lydia let out a scream of anguish and dove for me, but Will stepped in front of her and held her back.

  “Why?” Lydia screamed, her voice a raw gash on the night air. “Because she was on to you? Because she knew you have a cure?” I glanced around. The other werewolves had heard the commotion and returned, gathering in a loose circle just outside of my radius. Several of them pawed the air, agitated, but most stood silently, staring eerily at me.

  “I don’t have a cure,” I said wildly. I could feel anguished tears threatening to spill over my cheeks. “Please believe me, I can’t cure anyone!”

  “Eli!” Lydia screamed. “You cured Eli!”

  There was a sudden tug of magic on my radius, and then a familiar voice said, “Cured me of what?”

  Lydia whirled around. And Eli stepped forward out of the darkness.

  I felt the steady pulse of magic in my radius, and I stared at him with my mouth open. He was a werewolf again.

  He was a werewolf again.

  By my side, Will subtly put a hand under my elbow to steady me. Eli walked toward us until he was right in front of Lydia. He was nude, but unaffected by it. “Hey,” he said to her. “Hi, Will. Scarlett.” He was careful not to let his eyes linger on me. “I’ve been running around the forest looking for you guys for hours.”

  Lydia dropped to her knees. I couldn’t see her face, but whatever Eli must have seen made him stride forward and kneel down to hug her.

  “Where were you?” she cried, wrapping her arms around him.

  “I had a family thing, back in New York,” he said casually, patting her back. “I had to keep it quiet because . . . you know. It’s a vampire town.” I just kept staring at him, speechless. What an awesome cover story. Why hadn’t I thought of that a week ago? “Sorry I couldn’t say anything. What’s all the fuss?”

  Lydia sobbed into his neck, telling him about Ana’s death.

  I glanced at Will, who seemed to have adjusted to Eli’s second change a lot faster than I had. Too fast, actually. I wheeled on him. “You?” I whispered. “You did this?”

  He nodded. “Sorry I couldn’t tell you,” he murmured. “We weren’t sure if it would work. I was afraid his body might reject it the second time, and he said if you knew, you’d try to stop it.”

  “I fucking . . . you’re damn right I . . . ,” I sputtered. He grinned at me. Then he moved toward Lydia and Eli.

  “Come on, Lyddie, let’s give these two a chance to talk. You’ll run with me tonight, and when we get back, we’ll talk about a memorial for Ana,” he said soothingly. She nodded, still crying, and rose to her feet, allowing Will to lead her outside my radius for the change.

  And then it was just Eli and me.

  “Hi,” he said softly, smiling up at me.

  “No,” I mumbled. I swayed once, and Eli barely had time to look alarmed before I fell, sideways, landing on my left. He scrambled across the ground toward me. By then I was shaking, and tears had come. “No,” I wept. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening.”

  “Shh,” he whispered. “Shh, it’s okay, I wanted to.”

  “You did not!” I wailed, trying to control my breathing. “You did not, and don’t say that you did. You were happy . . .”

  “I’m happy with you,” he insisted. I started shaking my head, and he took my face between his hands, gently forcing me to look at him. “Listen, listen. That morning, I followed you and Lydia to the diner.” I froze, my sobs hiccupping to a stop. “I heard what she said to you. I knew she would never give up until she saw me.”

  “I could have changed her,” I hissed. “I could have fixed it somehow, or talked her out of it . . .”

  “No, you couldn’t,” he contended. “You were right, I could never stay in LA unless I was a werewolf. And this is my home. You’re my home,” he said simply.

  I stared at him through my tears. It was like the fucking “Gift of the Magi.” I’d thought I was fixing his whole life by changing him into a human again, and so he tried to fix my whole life by changing himself back. I let out a half-hiccup, half-laugh. Men.

  “I love you too, you moron,” I said, smiling at Eli through my tears. “I can’t believe you turned yourself into a werewolf just to be with me.”

  “Well, I was gonna buy flowers, but then I thought . . . ,” he joked, and pulled me close. I threw my arms around him. “What do you say?” he said, returning the hug. “Can we do this for real?” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I mean, we can keep it quiet, if you want,” he added. “If you’re worried that—”

  I pulled back just far enough to put my mouth over his. “No,” I said after I kissed him. “No hiding. No pretending.” I kissed him again. “Take me home.”

  Chapter 50

  Eli and I spent the whole next day in bed at his Santa Monica apartment. We talked a lot, and watched a couple of movies, and Eli insisted on elevating my knee and putting ice on it at intervals. He’d been a paramedic in another life, and old habits really do die hard.

  We ordered pizza for supper, and then I told Eli I needed to go back to Molly’s for a few things. He offered to come with me, but I wanted to go by myself so I could clear the air with Molly. I needed her to know we could still be friends even though I was looking for another place to live.

  The sun had been down for an hour when I hobbled down the outdoor stairs at his apartment and made my way toward my van.

  Hayne was leaning against the driver’s side door. “Scarlett,” he said, grinning.

  “Teddy,” I retorted. “You could have just come and knocked, you know.”

  Ignoring this, he stepped back and opened the car door. “He wants to see you.”

  “Now?” I complained. But I didn’t really have a good reason to blow off my boss, aside from a slightly less than professional but I don’t wanna.

  Hayne nodded, unaffected by my whine. “Fine,” I sighed.

  Half an hour later, I stalked into Dashiell’s office. Well, as much as one can stalk with a cane. I saw Dashiell behind his desk, staring at my approach with a completel
y unreadable expression. My steps faltered, however, when I entered the doorway and saw Will sitting in front of Dashiell’s desk—with the bargest.

  “Shadow,” I said in surprise, feeling all of them in my radius. The bargest trotted over and pushed her nose into my hand, wagging her strange club tail. I petted her head, which I could do without needing to bend. I looked up at Will, puzzled. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to put her down?”

  “I was,” Will grinned. “But we came to a different arrangement instead.”

  I hobbled over to the second visitor’s chair in front of Dashiell’s desk and sat down. “What arrangement?”

  “We got off the phone just a little bit ago with someone who calls himself the head of the Luparii,” Dashiell announced. Tiny smile. “He was suddenly interested in taking my calls, after his niece was arrested for an American murder.”

  “And?”

  “And we made a deal,” Will informed me. “Petra Corbett’s going to plead guilty to murder and serve her time. And the Luparii won’t return to Los Angeles, ever.”

  I looked from one to the other. “That seems like a really good deal,” I said slowly.

  Will shrugged. “I think he was more angry at Petra for letting a null and a human get the better of her than anything else.” I could see him trying to keep a straight face, but he looked positively delighted.

  “What’s the catch?” I asked warily. There had to be a catch.

  “We never take the bargest out of LA County, and we don’t allow any witches to examine the spell that built her,” Dashiell said evenly.

  I thought that over. “That’s why you can’t kill her,” I summed up. “Even if you found a way to do it. You have to keep her as leverage in case they renege.”

  “Exactly,” Will said, smiling broadly like I was a star pupil. “And we know you love dogs, and you haven’t been able to have one because you’re around so much magic.” He spread his arms, indicating the bargest. “It’s a perfect fit.”