"I heard you laughing with my uncle. That didn’t sound like someone with a death wish."
She shook her head. “No, I guess it didn’t. Being here and spending time with family for the first time in a very long while…is nice. I feel as though there’s a place for me here—if you’ll have me."
"Of course,” I said. “But you have to promise to use the front door whenever you visit me or Justin."
She smiled. “I think that can be arranged. Be safe, PJ. You are the last unmarked Mackenzie.”
The wound on my shoulder suddenly itched. I reached to scratch it and felt no pain in my wrists. All my wounds from the previous battle had healed. Regular old humans didn’t do that.
“I’m not so sure about that anymore,” I said.
Slate did something then that I really didn’t expect—she hugged me. “Don’t worry,” she said. “If you were one of us, you would know it by now.”
I thought about all of them—Slate, Lupin, Dree, and Justin. My gang, my pack—three wolves, a doctor, and little old me. What would Poppa think?
I went back upstairs after locking up and caught myself chewing on my necklace again. I realized that it didn’t matter. This was my fight, and I’d make whatever friends I needed. The story Poppa had told me my whole life—the basis for his hunts—was a lie. The truth was much more gray.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The next day I paid a visit to Manuel’s botanica. His wife greeted me from behind the counter when I walked in. My curiosity must have shown clear on my face because Maria laughed and pointed to the back door.
“He’s being a farmer this morning. Says dirt washes off cleaner than blood.”
How much about our little adventure had Manuel told his wife? I wasn’t sure I should ask.
“I wanted to thank him for his help dealing with Cesar the other night,” I said. No need to get into details if I didn’t have to. “I couldn’t have done it without him.”
Maria nodded slowly. “I know what he did to help,” she said. “He’ll make up for it in his own way.”
“He said something last night,” I said. “It’s none of my business, but I’m curious. Something about salvation not coming at the end of a machete?”
Maria sighed. “My husband was not always the man you see.”
I walked over to the counter. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“He found God,” she said. “It changed him, changed us both.”
She pulled up the sleeve of her blouse, and I saw a faded circular tattoo on her shoulder. It looked like something you would see on an ancient Mayan ruin, with the face of a god sticking out its tongue for blood sacrifice. Underneath was a stylized number 13. I knew a gang tattoo when I saw one. Those were the kinds of jobs Connor was careful to avoid.
“How long ago was that?” I asked.
“Not long enough,” Maria said.
Manuel walked in with a small basket full of herbs. Maria smoothed down her sleeve and took it from him. “I’ll get these drying. It was good to talk to you, PJ.”
As soon as she was out of the shop, Manuel pulled out a cigar and lit up. He took a long drag, and then pulled a book out from under the counter. I recognized the Mackenzie crest on the top.
“I figured you’d want this, chica,” he said. “It has your name written all over it. Or is this purely a social call?”
“Did you read it?” I asked.
He nodded, but didn’t offer anything more. He looked a little pale today. Then again, he did just slaughter a pack of wolves and negotiate a truce with a drug cartel. That would take it out of you.
“Is there anything I should know about, Manuel? You don’t look so hot.”
He shook his head and worked on his cigar some more. “Read it. I’ve marked the interesting parts.”
I opened the book and turned to a marked page. One side had a set of runes I’d never seen before. They looked less Celtic and more…something else. The hand-drawn image on the opposite page stopped my thoughts cold. Were those…wings?
Manuel saw my reaction. “Your family made more than just wolves, chica.”
I closed the book and tucked it under my arm. This would need more research.
“Before I go,” I said, “I wanted to give you some more blood. Justin has an idea on how to reproduce it synthetically, but let’s just say I won’t trust it until I can do some field tests.”
Manuel led me back to the room behind his counter and pulled out his kit. I let him take as much as he could. He didn’t say anything about my suddenly healed wounds, and I thanked him silently.
I bought another candle before I left. Manuel wrapped it for me, but not before throwing in another baggie of wolfsbane.
“Just in case,” he said.
With Donald gone, there would be fewer wolves for a while. I wouldn’t hold my breath that they’d be gone forever. More always came out of the woodwork.
I’d have to talk to Justin and make sure he’s not the jealous type. I couldn’t have him forbidding me from hitting the clubs by myself. After all, it’s a full moon this week. I’ll want to go out hunting again.
What can I say? It’s in my blood.
About the Author
Maurice Lawless lives in Houston, Texas. He writes criminal justice software for local government and fiction in his spare time. He hopes one day that those roles can be reversed. If you enjoyed this book, feel free to drop him a line on his website, The Lawless Pen. He is also active on Twitter. Find him on his blog (lawlesspen.blogspot.com) or on Twitter as @MauriceLawless.
Want to get an email when Maurice’s next book comes out? Sign up for his new releases mailing list here: smarturl.it/mauricelawless
Marked Clan #2 - Red Page 17
