Secret of the Wolf

by Cynthia Garner

  “He pretty much came up with the same thing. Said he talked to the werewolf liaison in your quadrant and she agrees. So does my captain.” Manny cleared his throat again. “I just wanted your opinion.”

  Dante gave a little shrug. “It works for me.” He heaved a sigh. “Guess that means you just need to be on the lookout for a rogue werewolf with OCD. Shouldn’t be too hard,” he said with a bit of sarcasm.

  “Yeah, right. At least it’s something.”

  Something was better than nothing, though not by much.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Around ten o’clock that night, Dante couldn’t get Tori on the phone, so he decided to head over to her place. He wanted to talk to her about what Manny had said about the rogue’s signature; plus, he wanted to return the rift device and schematics. He was more than willing to lock them up in his gun safe, but she hadn’t said she wanted him to keep them yet.

  He knew Tori usually didn’t go to bed until close to midnight, so he wasn’t worried about waking her. But when she didn’t answer, his concern for her grew. He banged on the door with his fist.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he heard Randall yell. In another couple of seconds the door swung open and Tori’s brother stood there with his hand on the knob and a scowl on his face. His hair was wet and he was wrapped in a navy-blue robe. He must have just gotten out of the shower. “What the…” His gaze hardened. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you know what time it is?”

  “I do, actually.” Dante didn’t like Tori’s brother. At their introduction, the guy had been a jerk, and Dante didn’t see much change now. Granted, he’d shown up on their doorstep late at night, but from what he understood, Randall was out late most nights anyway. “Is Tori around? She’s not answering her phone,” he said by way of explanation.

  “She’s sleeping.”

  Dante frowned. “Is she all right?”

  “What’s it to you?” Randall crossed his arms.

  Dante tightened his jaw. While he was sure it would be highly satisfying to plant his fist in this little prick’s jaw, he was equally sure Tori wouldn’t appreciate it. He was also sure he wouldn’t be leaving the rift device and schematics here tonight. “We’re friends. I’m concerned.”

  “Right. Friends.” Randall didn’t seem too keen on the idea. “She’s fine.”

  At first Dante didn’t give a damn whether Randall wanted him to be friends with Tori. But then he figured one of them had to be the grown-up here, for Tori’s sake. He’d make an effort to connect with her brother. Pasting what he hoped came across as an interested expression on his face, he asked, “So, how’d the council meet and greet go?”

  Randall just stared at him.

  “I’ve never been to one, obviously,” Dante said. “I was just curious about it.”

  “Yeah, humans don’t get invited to those. Just prets.” Randall gave a careless shrug. The fingers of one hand began drumming against his thigh. “I didn’t go.”

  “Really?” Dante knew enough about these things to know they were a big deal as far as the council was concerned. A really big deal, yet Tori’s brother hadn’t bothered to go. “Why?”

  “Wasn’t interested in meeting the council.” The look on Randall’s face suggested he was confused and irritated at Dante’s probing. “Anyway, what’s it to you? You’re not my keeper.”

  Oh, yeah. Tori’s brother was a douche bag and not scoring any points here. “I imagine your not showing up isn’t going to make things any easier on your sister.” At Randall’s low growl, Dante held up one hand and said, “Look, man, I was just trying to get to know you a little, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, well, man, I’m not interested in that, either.” His sneer was pronounced. “I’ll let Tori know you stopped by.”

  “Thanks. Ask her to call me, will you?”

  Without responding, Randall closed the door with a solid click.

  All Dante wanted to do was remind her about having dinner at his place the next night. He hoped her little punk of a brother would give her the message, though Dante suspected he wouldn’t.

  The next morning, his belly full of eggs, bacon, and toast, he drove to the station. His cell phone rang, and as he pulled it free from its holder his heart jumped at the thought that Tori might be calling. When he saw the main dispatch number on the display, he squelched his disappointment, his greeting less than enthusiastic.

  “We’ve got a DB over on Fifth Avenue by the horse fountain,” the dispatcher told him. “First uniform on scene said it looks like a werewolf attack.”

  “Got it. I’m on my way.” Dante made a U-turn at the next intersection and headed toward the crime scene. He drove up Marshall Way and pulled to a stop next to a marked unit that was parked sideways, blocking off the roundabout where the horse fountain was the centerpiece. He lifted his chin in greeting to the uniformed officer standing sentry at the perimeter. “Joe,” he said as the man lifted the yellow tape for Dante to duck beneath.

  “Dante.” The officer thumbed over his shoulder. “It’s a real mess over there.”

  “Any witnesses?”

  “Nope. It’s pretty quiet around here. Some of the coffee shops and restaurants have been open for business for about an hour. If anyone was here when this went down, they’re not talking.”

  “Figures, not that I can blame them. I imagine seeing a werewolf attacking someone is a scary thing.” Even from where he stood, Dante could see evidence markers all over the scene. He walked over and stood at the edge of the crime scene, a small bricked area with a few round concrete picnic tables and large planters with yellow flowers in them. George, the council ME, was bent over the victim, and several criminalists were at work, taking pictures and collecting data.

  Dante went over to a tech who was busy sketching the scene. Dante watched as he accurately represented the scene on graph paper while studiously ignoring the cop peering over his shoulder.

  Someone walked up and stood next to Dante. He glanced sideways and saw the werewolf liaison from quadrant four standing there. “What brings you to my crime scene, Ash?” Dante asked.

  “From the description, this sounds like it’s my guy. So dispatch sent me instead of Tori.” He raked dark blond hair off his forehead. “Crap. Even from here this looks bad.”

  Dante was glad Tori was getting some time off but he missed not being able to talk through the case with her as they walked the scene.

  The ME glanced up from the body suddenly and motioned them over. They both took care where they placed their feet as they joined him. The closer to the body they got, the stronger the smell of bleach and ammonia became. “You smell that?” Dante asked Ash.

  “Yeah, I do.” He huffed a sigh. “Damn it.”

  Dante hunkered down and looked at the body, or what was left of it. It was a man, his head turned to one side, the neck clearly broken. His clothing lay in tatters around him, and blood smeared nearly every inch of his skin. The torso was ripped open, a gaping, bloody hole where organs should have been. This reminded Dante of one of the early scenes in his career on the Special Case squad, about a year ago. He looked over at the ME. “Please don’t tell me the suspect ate part of this poor guy.”

  Ash squatted down and gave a few sniffs, wrinkling his nose before standing back up.

  “I can’t say, because that would involve supposition on my part,” George replied, as persnickety as ever. He took off his latex gloves and dropped them near the body, then grabbed a small cylindrical container from his shirt pocket and pulled off the cap. He shook a toothpick out and stuck it between his teeth, then replaced the container in his pocket. “What I can tell you,” he said with teeth clenched around the small wooden stick, “is that all the internal organs are gone. They were ripped out, not cut, and from the amount of blood in the thoracic and abdominal cavities, I’d say the victim was still alive when this all started.”

  God. The poor bastard had been eaten alive? Dante shared a look with Ash. “If this is the same rogu
e that’s been turning people,” Dante said, “why would he kill this guy instead of turning him?”

  “He’s succumbed to bloodlust,” Ash murmured. “Shit.”

  Dante glanced from the werewolf liaison to the ME and back again. “Bloodlust?”

  Ash drew in a deep breath. “It’s a fine line we draw, those of us—like shapeshifters and vampires—who have a taste for humans. If we deny ourselves too long, we can go into a frenzy when we finally do get a bite. Or if we’ve been indulging too much, it basically shuts down our body’s response to satiety.”

  “Leptin levels drop and ghrelin levels rise,” George added. “The release of cholecys…” He trailed off and sent Dante a chagrined look. “Sorry. Geek speak. Let’s just say that our brain doesn’t tell our stomachs that we’re full. So we feel hungry all the time.”

  Ash looked at the carnage. “Not just hungry. Ravenous. So we kill again. And again, the taste for humans becomes an addiction we can’t fight. We don’t want to fight.” He rubbed his chin and met Dante’s eyes. “I’ve been close to that condition, man, and it’s a hard thing to turn away from. The sense of power you get, taking someone’s life, is a heady feeling. I can pretty much guarantee that all our guy can think about now is when he’s going to get his next meal, when he’s going to feel that way again.”

  This was bad. Very bad. “So we have a starving werewolf on the loose? Great.” Dante stood and glanced around. He itched to investigate further to see if the killer had left his signature. “What’s your TOD, doc?”

  “I put time of death around two, three hours ago, just before sunrise.”

  Dante shot Ash a surprised look. “That’s kinda pushing it, isn’t it?”

  Ash shrugged. “It was still dark, plus there was a full moon out last night.” He paused, his face darkening. “Aw, hell. I hope that doesn’t mean we have more than one vic.”

  Dante turned to the ME. “Were there any other victims?”

  “Not that we’re aware of,” the ME said. “The senior tech said so far there’s no evidence of anyone else on scene, but then again, there’s little evidence that the attacker was here, either.”

  “Except for this guy,” Dante said with a dry look at the victim.

  “Yeah, except for that,” George replied. “As usual, he used bleach and ammonia.” He gestured toward Ash, who was wiping his nose with a plain white handkerchief. “I know it bugs you that you can’t pick up on his scent.”

  “Hell, I won’t be able to smell anything for at least a day.” Ash took in the crime scene. “Is it okay if I take a look around, doc?”

  “Yeah, I’m done here.” The ME motioned for the morgue attendants to come forward. Looking at Dante, he said, “They’ll take the body back to the city morgue, where your ME can have a look at it. I’ll get my report over to him ASAP.”

  “Thanks, George.” Dante moved out of the way and walked the scene with Ash. At the southwest edge he stopped and knelt down to look at something curious.

  “What is it?” Ash hunkered down as well.

  Dante pointed to a row of dead leaves lined up on the bricks beneath one of the large planters. “Look at that.”

  “Six in a row, just like my other scenes.” His phone rang and he stood and pulled it out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Asher.” He paused, listening to whoever was on the other end of the call. “Yeah, I’m here right now.”

  Dante stood and watched Ash’s face.

  The werewolf liaison’s “What?” was shocked and hard-voiced. He listened with a clenched jaw. “I’ll be there as soon as I wrap up here. Give me half an hour or so.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket and told Dante, “There’s another victim up in the north quad. Rivera’s on scene now.”

  “Two in one night? He’s escalating.”

  “No kidding.” Ash shook his head. “I shoulda known he wasn’t finished. He was simply storing energy.”

  “Or that break really fed his addiction.” Dante walked Ash to their parked cars. “He started going into withdrawal, and so last night was a…feeding frenzy.” It almost made him sick to his stomach to phrase it that way, seeing as how the “food” had been some poor bastard’s inner workings. And there were plenty of unknowing humans in this town who could be this monster’s next meal. They needed to stop whoever was doing this and fast.

  “Damn it.” Ash huffed a sigh. “Rivera said the killing up north happened about seven hours ago.”

  “So…dinner and then breakfast?” Dante asked.

  “I guess.” Ash paused by Dante’s truck. “Let me know if you find out anything else, all right?”

  “You got it.” Dante watched the werewolf liaison walk to his flashy red-with-black-racing-stripes muscle car. Dante had his own sporty car he wanted to buy. Maybe he’d finally get one when they put this case to bed.

  He climbed up behind the wheel and started his truck. The diesel engine rumbled to life, and Dante backed up several feet before making a U-turn and driving away. He’d made it about halfway to the station when his cell rang. He answered with a terse, “MacMillan.”

  “Hey.” It was Tori. She sounded alert, her voice bright and energetic. The extra sleep had clearly done her some good. “Rand told me you asked me to call when I woke up, so…here I am, calling.”

  Well, what do you know? Her brother had actually delivered the message. “How’re you feelin’?”

  “I’m fine. Those meet and greets really take it out of me. I don’t know why. But I’m not planning on doing much of anything today.” She paused, then asked, “Did you want something in particular, or did you just want to chat?”

  “Oh, we have plenty to chat about, believe me,” he said. “But not over the phone. What I wanted was to remind you about dinner tonight at my place. Steaks on the grill, and maybe a ride if the horses will tolerate having a werewolf around.”

  “You had me at steak.” She laughed, a soft trill of sound that went in his ears and shot straight to his groin. “Should I bring anything?” she asked.

  “Hell, no. You’re my guest.” He made a turn onto the street where the station was located. “How does six sound?”

  “Six is great. I’ll see you then.”

  “Oh, and I still have the thing, so we can work on it again.”

  “Okay.” Her tone softened as she said, “I’ll see you tonight.”

  That sultry voice did it to him every time. His cock stiffened. He could come up with no other response except a quiet, “See you later.”

  Mind on the job, MacMillan. Otherwise they’d never make it to the food or the device.

  Chapter Fourteen

  By late afternoon Tori had had enough of lazing around. She puttered around in the yard, making sure the flowers had enough water and pulling a few stray weeds out of the graveled landscaping. Then she went inside to get cleaned up for her evening at Dante’s.

  It was silly how excited she was about going to his house. She had to leave in an hour, and she felt like a schoolgirl with her very first crush. Her insides trembled, her mind skittered from one thought to another, not allowing her to fully land on anything specific. Even though she had been to his house before, this time seemed more like a date and less like work. Maybe a cold shower would clear her head.

  After a couple of seconds of cold water beating down on her, Tori decided cold showers were overrated. She turned the faucet to hot and finished up. As she was cinching her robe around her waist, the smell of Italian spices drew her to the front of the house. She walked past the guest bathroom, and the smell of ammonia made her stop. She peered in and saw the toilet bowl brush resting in the toilet. Hmph. Rand had cleaned? She went into the kitchen, rubbing her wet hair with a towel, and almost ran into her brother. He’d been on his way out when she’d gotten up this morning, stopping briefly to tell her Dante had come by late last night, then he had headed out. He’d gotten back only about half an hour ago.

  “ ’Ello,” he said as he easily sidestepped her, holding a cup of tea. �
��How’d the yard work go?”

  “Fine. It’s not like it was hard or anything.” She draped the damp towel over one shoulder and stared at him. “You, ah, cleaned the bathroom?”

  He stared at her. “I thought I’d do some chores around here. Is that all right?”

  “Sure. Yes, absolutely.” It was her own damned suspicious nature that made her equate ammonia with the rogue werewolf. “Where were you last night?”

  He set his cup on the island and turned toward the stove. Donning a pair of oven mitts, he opened up the oven door. “What do you mean?” His voice gave away nothing of what he was thinking, and she picked up no unusual emotional scents from him, either.

  “I mean you weren’t at the newcomer meet and greet.” Tori drew in a breath and determined not to let him distract her with that absolutely yummy looking pan of lasagna. “It’s a requirement for all preternaturals new to a city to attend one of those, not just to meet the council members, but also the local liaisons.”

  “But I already know the local liaison,” Rand said with a small smile.

  “Sorry, buddy. That doesn’t count.” She couldn’t resist taking another sniff or two of the lasagna he lifted out of the oven. “You don’t want to get me in trouble with my bosses, do you?”

  He snorted. “They can’t hold you responsible for me. It’s not like I’m your kid. Anyway, this stupid meet and greet is only required in the cities where the councils are located. If I lived down in Tucson or over in Yuma I wouldn’t have to do this.”

  “That’s because it doesn’t make sense to have people travel from all over the surrounding areas to come to their regional council. But it does make sense for the council to get a feel for the prets who live in their town.” She stared at him as he put the pan of lasagna on top of the stove and removed a foil bag of garlic bread, then closed the oven door.