Howling Legion (Skinners, Book 2)

by Marcus Pelegrimas

  “Oh yeah! That’s one of the gas stations we baited.”

  “No! Look at the placement of their feet. Can’t you tell they’re just a little too high?”

  “No.”

  Cole took a deep breath and started flipping through several more pictures. “You may not notice all of this, but people who scour websites for this kind of stuff will. They’ll see that the shading on some of the fur was the wrong shade of gray or a reflection doesn’t show up in a window quite the way it’s supposed to. When they pick out little flaws like that, they’ll be tripping all over themselves to claim this whole thing was a hoax or some sort of stunt.”

  “People are dead, Cole. Some doctored pictures won’t change that.”

  “I know, but it’ll cool off the talk about monsters racing through Kansas City. Isn’t that a good thing? You know, to avoid panic or plague or whatever you were talking about before?”

  Turning on the balls of her feet, Paige dried behind her ears and walked back to the sink. Just because she’d started brushing her teeth didn’t mean she was through with the conversation. “Sho, you get a few pictures out there and shay they’re fake. What about all the real ones?”

  “They’ll still be out there, but they’ll look like the doctored ones. Trust me. People are more willing to believe they’ve spotted a phony than admit this stuff is real. That’s the beauty of it. By the way, do you know how difficult it was to make these pictures look just the right sort of fake?”

  Paige spat in the sink.

  “Not only did I have to figure out a bunch of little things that might show up in a doctored picture,” Cole continued, “but I had to use all my design expertise to put those ideas into action. A little shading here, a little misalignment there, some displaced objects in the foreground that don’t match up with the background. I’m telling you I’m one hell of an artist.”

  Walking out of the bathroom while dabbing at her face, Paige said, “All right. I guess it sounds like a good idea. Post those pics on your website or stick them onto a discussion group and see how far they get circulated.”

  Cole grinned and waggled his eyebrows in a way that was excited and unintentionally creepy at the same time. “And now for the next step in my beautiful plan. I’m not posting these. MEG is.”

  Pausing with the towel against her chin, Paige finally looked at the laptop as if she truly knew what Cole was talking about. “You’re sure they’ll do that?”

  “I talked to Stu and Abby about it while you were still asleep.”

  “Who’s Abby?”

  “The field investigator who’s answering phones because of a sprained ankle. She’s really funny and sounds cute.” Before he was cut short, Cole quickly added, “She’s got enough experience to know that MEG couldn’t just pretend these Half Breed pictures weren’t out there. They wouldn’t go so far as to purposely debunk something real, but they will post my pics just like they’d post anyone else’s.” Dropping his voice to a whisper even though nobody else was in the room, he added, “I even know a few conspiracy buffs at Digital Dreamers who live to spot this kind of stuff. I mean, we’re gonna take care of things here anyway, so who cares if rottweilers or escaped coyotes get the blame, right? This will defuse some panic and let it blow over when we’re done.”

  Paige looked genuinely stunned. She squinted at the pictures on Cole’s computer, went through a few different facial expressions, and then finally looked up at him to say, “That’s a damn good idea! I can’t believe you came up with that.”

  “I thank you for the first part and I’ll write off the second part to you being hungry. How about we hit the free breakfast downstairs?”

  “Two for two, Cole. If you think of a way to keep Daniels from whining over our bagels, you’ll be my hero.”

  Breakfast was served in a room just off the hotel’s modest lobby. There was a TV bracketed to the wall, a coffee machine, some bins of cereal next to a pitcher of milk, and a few plates of pastries laid out for the guests. Since it was the middle of the week, Paige, Cole, and Daniels only had to share the room with an elderly couple reading a newspaper.

  “I believe I’ve hit another snag in…” Daniels paused to shoot the old folks a suspicious glare, and then leaned across the table to whisper, “That whole ink idea may not be such a good one.”

  Paige leaned across and whispered, “You know, you draw more attention doing this than talking like a normal person.”

  Daniels sat back and ran his hand over the spot on top of his head where the Nymar tendrils gathered to blacken his scalp. “Since I take it the Full Blood got away, I suppose you’ll want to take me home to continue real work on that project as soon as possible.”

  “What do you mean ‘real’ work?” Paige snapped. “What the hell have you been doing all this time?”

  Sensing a definite turn for the worse, Cole asked, “How’s Sally?”

  Daniels nodded and smiled uncomfortably. “She’s doing well. The pol—” For some reason, Daniels was still bothered by the little old man and lady who nibbled on sweet rolls while handing sections of the paper back and forth to each other. “She’s been questioned about what happened, but didn’t mention any names. Apparently, the authorities were called about the shots that were fired that night, but there’s not enough of those two Nymar left to draw any suspicion.”

  “They probably just figure we were firing at the big thing that crushed one of their cars,” Cole offered.

  “Right. Sally told me some officers came by asking if an exotic pet escaped from one of the apartments and she went along with it. I suppose that’s that.”

  Cole never thought he’d feel so apathetic about the police possibly looking for him, but he was starting to take on Paige’s attitude about the whole thing: if the cops were good enough to put so many crazy pieces together, then good for the cops.

  “So,” Daniels said as he rattled his plastic stirring sticks around in his cream-filled coffee, “when do we head home?”

  “You’ve got work to do,” Paige told him. “I didn’t bring you along to call your girlfriend and put together battery packs.”

  “I’m doing my best!” Daniels whined. “Perhaps you should accept the fact that this whole idea of yours may not be safe. The work I’ve done has definitely uncovered some theories that could be put to use elsewhere, but—”

  Dropping her elbow onto the table so she could stab a finger within an inch of the Nymar’s face, Paige said, “You’ll put them to use where I told you to put them. If you need someone to test it, just tell me when to show up and you can test it on me. I need you to finish this here and now.”

  “That would be far too dangerous. You’re talking about…” This time when Daniels glanced over at the old couple, they were glancing nervously back at him. “You’re talking about injecting potentially hazardous, metallic elements directly under your skin. Even without the…more exotic…components, that isn’t something to rush into.”

  Seeing the intense look in her eyes, Cole stepped in. “We need to drive around KC anyway to check on a few more dens, so you’ll have some more time.”

  “No,” Paige said. “It’s too late for that. Even if the Half Breeds that showed up last night were the only ones, we know we didn’t get them all. The Full Blood got away from us, and it could have made plenty more already.”

  The old couple shifted their eyes to Daniels, folded up their newspaper, and shuffled out of the dining room as fast as their slippered feet would carry them.

  “Then we go after the big game,” Cole said. When Paige didn’t look up at him, he asked, “You do have a way to track down Full Bloods, right?”

  “I can think of something,” she replied. “Daniels, what will it take to finish up your work?”

  “I’ll cook up the next version of my mix, and try a few things.”

  Paige dipped a dry piece of bagel into her coffee. “Fine. Just do what you need to do.”

  “Then can we head back to Chicago?”

>   “As soon as we’re done here.”

  “And what if those things get to us first?” Daniels asked.

  Locking her gaze onto him, she replied, “If me and Cole get killed, you can fish the car keys out of my pocket and drive back. Good enough?”

  Daniels winced, but tried to keep his face stern enough to match Paige’s expression. Failing miserably at that, he got up and headed for the elevator.

  Now that he and Paige were the only ones in the room, Cole asked, “You don’t have a plan for what’s next, do you?”

  “A lot of the stuff that’s happening right now has never happened before. At least, not on this scale. I’ll come up with something.”

  He placed a hand on her arm and told her, “I’ve done plenty of big projects where time was a factor.”

  “This isn’t exactly the same as designing a video game,” she said.

  “Have you ever been the one to tell a convention hall full of ravenous fanboys that the game they’ve all been foaming at the mouth for is being pushed back eight months? It can get ugly. One scary looking bald dude had the first release date for Sniper Ranger 3 tattooed on his forearm. His sniping arm, is what he told me. When we canceled that date at an electronics expo, I was more afraid of him than any werewolf.”

  Paige’s tired chuckle turned into more genuine laughter.

  “We just need to break down what needs to be done into bite-sized pieces,” Cole said. “That Full Blood isn’t very subtle, so we probably would have seen him by now if he meant to track us down.”

  “He was hurt,” Paige said.

  “Those Half Breeds may have even finished him off.”

  “That would be nice, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  “Okay, fine. We found the Half Breeds before. We can do it again. We’ll check the dens, but I’m guessing the next batch will be in new ones.”

  “Yep,” Paige sighed. “They could be anywhere. Parks were the easiest choices, but they could be in basements or abandoned buildings. Hell, considering how many of those ugly bastards showed up last night, we probably didn’t even find all of the original dens in the first place.”

  “Too bad we can’t just sniff them out directly,” Cole said. Raising his eyebrows hopefully, he asked, “Can we sniff them out?”

  “Not really.” Paige was looking at the TV, which showed a local news break regarding the previous night’s rash of “wild dog attacks.” Fortunately, the only thing caught by a professional cameraman was a German shepherd chasing a rat.

  Cole didn’t even try to focus on the grainy amateur photos and frightened witnesses being interviewed. He had enough going through his mind without cramming in any more. Pressing his fingertips against his eyelids, he grumbled his thoughts as they drifted through his head. “They can track us. Those Half Breeds tore after that scent trail we left. Burkis probably followed me all the way from Canada.”

  “Don’t forget Jackie. She’s another little present you brought back from Canada.”

  Cole would never forget Jackie. In fact, there’d been many a tired and frustrated night in his walk-in freezer when he’d thought about her. Jackie was a shapeshifter known as a Mongrel. Where werewolves typically turned into something vaguely canine, Mongrels could look like any one of a motley assortment of representatives from the animal kingdom. According to Paige, there were were-leopards, tigers, snakes, and plenty more. Jackie was a cat of some sort. Her lithe body produced the substance that Paige had used to make herself invisible when sneaking into Stephanie’s Blood Parlor. Apart from that substance and her fur, Jackie hadn’t been wearing anything else when she introduced herself to him.

  That was the part that kept his thoughts warm when he was feeling restless. The term “Mongrel” just didn’t fit a creature like Jackie. In human form, her body was tight enough to make a professional dancer jealous. They had wrestled when they first met, but not in the good way. Now, as his thoughts pointed him in that direction, Cole slapped his hands down on the table and stared at Paige with wide eyes.

  “I think I’ve got it,” he said.

  She smiled and angled her head toward a family of four that had wandered into the room to raid the cereal bar. Every other table was empty, but the middle-aged parents and their two eleven-year-olds just had to cluster around the one directly beside the Skinners.

  Cole was too excited to worry about disturbing the new arrivals. “The Mongrels! They could track me, so maybe they can track a Full Blood!”

  Paige got up, marched to the door and impatiently motioned for Cole to follow. He caught up with her at the elevator.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked while jabbing the Call button.

  “Jackie tracked me from Canada. You told me she did at least some of that through scent, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Half Breeds smell like ass, so they should be easier to track. And didn’t you tell me Full Bloods and Mongrels fight like…well…cats and dogs? Those two must have a good way of keeping tabs on each other!”

  The elevator doors opened and a couple in their early thirties stepped out. One was a guy with a shaved head and a long goatee dragging a black travel case. The other was a brunette with rosy cheeks and generous curves. As soon as they stepped out of the elevator, Paige and Cole stepped in.

  “Mongrels are the only thing we don’t have to worry about around here,” Paige said. “Let’s deal with what’s already on our plate before we start thinking about the next course.”

  “Good Lord, you really don’t play any sort of games do you?” Before she could answer that, Cole said, “It’d help you with your tactical thinking, you know. For instance, in all the games I’ve played or designed, there’s always something that sets apart the grunts from the bosses. Bosses aren’t bosses just because they’re tougher. You’ve got to figure something out. They’ve got a weakness. It’s either a soft spot or a pattern or something, but it’s there.”

  “Why does everything come down to video games with you?”

  He shrugged and considered that for a moment. “Would Star Wars analogies work better for you?”

  “Forget I asked. I already know Full Bloods have weaknesses. That doesn’t help us track them.”

  “We know that most supernatural things can be hurt by other supernatural things. Our problem is that we’ve just been using dead supernatural things.”

  The elevator’s panel dinged and the doors opened to the second floor. Paige stepped out and said, “The live ones usually aren’t very cooperative.”

  Cole tagged along with her, smiling and nodding like an idiot. Rather than say what was racing through his mind, he gave her a second to figure it out for herself. It was a good thing she was quick on the draw, because he couldn’t have held out much longer before the vein in his forehead popped.

  “They’re not cooperative,” she said slowly, “unless there’s something in it for them.”

  “You just found the secret cheat code.”

  “Mongrels know how to find Full Bloods,” she continued. “That’s how they survive. If you find a Mongrel’s home, you know it’s a spot far away from Full Bloods.”

  “Are there any Mongrel homes within driving distance of here?” Cole asked.

  “I’m not sure, but if another one of us found one, they would have let MEG know about it.”

  “You want to make the call or should I?”

  Chapter 22

  Cole sat in the car and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while watching the sidewalk that ran along Forest Hill Cemetery. Paige had told him to hold off on calling MEG so they could focus on finding stray Half Breeds in the dens they knew about. Even though she was the one searching the section of broken sidewalk, he knew she wouldn’t find anything. He could feel there were some shapeshifters about, but not anywhere close. Even with all the news regarding wild dogs and the charred remains that had been discovered at the nature preserve, the city just felt calmer than it had the night before.

 
; His leg was bandaged, but the wound was sealed as if it had been healing for weeks. All the smaller cuts had faded, but the serum didn’t do much for the bruises. Despite the ache that claimed nearly every inch of his body, he’d actually started to relax while watching Paige search the perimeter of the cemetery grounds. When his cell phone rang, he cleared his seat.

  He plucked the phone from his pocket and was surprised to find Digital Dreamers, Inc. on his caller ID. “Hello?”

  The voice that came through was familiar but distorted. His new phone might have had a nice, bright touch screen, but sometimes the reception was worse than a pair of cans connected by a string. “I just got finished with a meeting where you were supposed to be fired,” Jason Sorrenson announced.

  “Really?” Cole asked as a way to test the waters. “Maybe I should have showed up to that one.”

  “That might have helped when I went in to try and defend you to the other two directors. Fortunately, Hammer Strike is doing well enough that we want to get things rolling for a sequel, and those designs you e-mailed got here just before the meeting. Between that and the ideas you pitched to me earlier, you’ve still got a job. Thought you might like to know. When can you come back to Seattle?”

  “I don’t know, Jason. I really don’t.”

  “Then I don’t know if I can have you on the design team for Hammer 2.”

  Cole straightened up so quickly he nearly broke a rib on the steering wheel. “Hammer Strike is all me! You can’t do the next one without my input. The players will know the difference, and it may just flop hard enough to squelch the whole series.”

  “Sending in tweaks and downloadable content from your laptop is one thing, but you can’t truly expect to be a part of a real design team without even being in the same city as everyone else. At best, you could have a say on some of the creative aspects, but none of the technical stuff. It’s too organic a process for any pivotal member to be so far out of reach. You know that, Cole.”

  Settling back into his seat, Cole glanced up and down the sidewalk and then spotted Paige strolling along the low rock fence. His services as a getaway driver weren’t needed just yet, so he grudgingly said, “I know that, Jason. It doesn’t mean I like it.”