Shadow Hunt

by Melissa F. Olson

  I kind of understood what he meant. For a long time, I’d sensed Eli and I weren’t working, that we were never really going to be able to fit together the way either of us needed. But I’d willfully ignored that because I thought I’d be happier with a compromised relationship than with no relationship at all. And I’d pretended to be fine with things that weren’t.

  I wanted to . . . I don’t know, pat Jesse’s shoulder or tell him it was okay or something, but it was just too awkward. He met my eyes again. “Does that answer your question?”

  I nodded. “Ready to go?”

  “Yeah.” Then he froze. “Did you hear that?”

  “What?”

  “Someone just knocked on the front door.”

  Oh. I squinted at the clock. It wasn’t even five a.m. Who the hell would be coming over? I couldn’t see the Luparii deciding to knock. Well, not again, anyway. I got up and moved toward the bedroom door, starting to extend my radius.

  “Hang on!” Jesse said. He was reaching for his gun in its side holster. “It could be—”

  Then there was a familiar bark. Jesse and I locked eyes, and I could see him opening his mouth to tell me to wait, that it might be a trap.

  I ignored this.

  Instead, I threw the bedroom door open and ran for the front door, though I at least had the presence of mind to look through the peephole. There was a young man standing outside, bedraggled and exhausted-looking, but I barely glanced at him. My fingers scrabbled at the locks, and I threw the door wide. “Shadow!” I cried out.

  The bargest knocked me flat on my back.

  Chapter 24

  Jesse couldn’t help but smile as he watched the bargest slobber all over Scarlett as she laughed, tears running down her face. Shadow’s fur—the little she had—was matted and filthy, and her dry, pebbled skin was obviously streaked with blood around her mouth and sides. The blood was coated in what looked like thick brown dust. Her tail, which naturally clubbed off at about ten inches long, was wagging back and forth so fiercely that Jesse was sure it would leave a welt if he stepped within its reach. A small cloud of dust was coming off her tail.

  Then Shadow turned to Jesse, rearing up and putting her front paws on his shoulders so she could lick his face, too. “Ack! Down, please,” Jesse said. When Shadow finally dropped back to all fours, Jesse turned his attention toward the young man, one hand going to rest on his gun. The kid was maybe eighteen, and he was even filthier than Shadow, covered in the same dirt. There was a strip of what looked like his shirttail tied around one arm, and a brownish-red stain had soaked through it.

  “Um, hi,” the kid said, shifting his weight from one side to the other.

  Scarlett climbed to her feet. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Owen? Um, your dog or whatever saved me, and then she was super insistent that we needed to come here?” He blushed. “She kind of herded me like I was a sheep, actually. Is this where—I mean, are you her owner?”

  Shadow’s head snapped around so she could give him a dirty look. Scarlett just smiled, reaching down to scratch behind the bargest’s furry ear. She was practically radiating relief and joy. “Nobody owns Shadow,” she corrected. “But I pay the rent and buy the dog food, yeah. I’m Scarlett.” She held out her hand, which the kid shook.

  “Okay. Shadow, that’s her name. Okay. And you’re Scarlett.” The kid nodded to himself, like this was a really important mystery he’d just solved. “You’re the one.”

  Scarlett’s expression hardened a little. “The one what?”

  The kid took a step back, scuffing his feet. “Um, the one they went to kill last night? We would have warned you, but we didn’t escape till after, and then I didn’t know how to find you . . .” He pushed out an anxious breath and tried for a smile. Jesse realized that beyond all the caked dirt and blood smears, his face was familiar.

  “What’s your name?” Jesse asked.

  “I’m Owen. Owen Schmidt.”

  Jesse and Scarlett exchanged a look. “You’re Karl’s grandson,” she said. “I saw you in the picture at his house.”

  The boy didn’t actually fall down, but his whole body seemed to crumple, like someone had extracted all the oxygen from him. “Yeah. They killed him. But they wanted me alive, see, because I—”

  “Because you have witchblood,” Scarlett said quietly. “Luparii witchblood.”

  “Yeah,” the kid said, looking at Scarlett with astonishment. “How did you know that?”

  There was a heartbeat of silence, and then Jesse and Scarlett both started asking the kid questions at the same time. Owen Schmidt raised both hands and took a tiny step backward, giving Scarlett a pleading look. “Look, I’ll explain the whole thing, as much as I can, I swear. But first—and I know I’m a stranger—but I would be really, really, deeply grateful if you’d let me use your shower? Please?”

  There was a flurry of activity after that. While Scarlett found the kid some clean towels and sweats, Jesse fed Shadow ostrich steaks from the freezer. She gobbled them up still frozen, along with about two gallons of water, and Jesse knew that he and Scarlett had been right about the Luparii’s plan to starve her to death.

  Then Scarlett called Dashiell to explain the situation, and Jesse insisted on checking Owen’s wound before the kid got it wet in the shower. When he untied the bandage, he let out a low whistle: it was a nasty-looking scrape on top of a deep bruise, but it didn’t look like it would need stitches. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Owen said, though he was wincing. “I just didn’t want to leave a blood trail for them to follow.”

  “How did you get it?” Jesse asked.

  “Getting off the cage rock,” Owen said, as though that would explain everything.

  Jesse shook his head. “Never mind. Get yourself cleaned up and you can tell us the whole story.”

  He left Owen in the bathroom, hearing the shower go on almost immediately. Scarlett wasn’t talking in the living room anymore, but he found her in the backyard, sluicing muddy water off the bargest with a garden hose. A sponge and a bottle of dog shampoo sat beside her.

  “I know it’s cold,” Scarlett was saying, “but we both know what would have happened if I let you use the bathtub again.”

  Shadow’s lips drew open in a terrifying doggy grin. “What would have happened?” Jesse asked as he walked over.

  “She would have shaken muddy water all over the inside of the house. Again.” Scarlett gave the bargest an exaggerated glare, but Shadow was unrepentant, dancing around in the spray of water, pleased as hell with herself. Jesse couldn’t blame her. She was a hero.

  “I can help,” he offered. While Scarlett ran the hose, Jesse bent slightly so he could rub dog shampoo into the bargest’s furry parts, gently cleaning her pebbled skin with the sponge.

  “What did Dashiell say?” he asked as they worked.

  “He accepts postponing the meeting. He wants us to talk to the kid and get the whole story, then call Hayne. We are provisionally allowed to wake Dashiell during the day, if it’s an absolute emergency.”

  “Whoa.” Jesse had some idea of how seriously Dashiell took his security. The one time Scarlett had woken him up during the day, he’d slapped her across the face. Jesse still ground his teeth a little at the memory.

  “We are not, however,” Scarlett went on, “to take Owen to the mansion. In case this is all a trap.”

  “Huh.” It had occurred to Jesse that Owen’s sudden arrival could be a ploy, of course, but he hadn’t thought the possibility through that far. If Owen was with the Luparii, playing nice with them wasn’t a bad plan. It could potentially get him into Dashiell’s mansion during the day with a null in tow—pretty much the only way the cardinal vampire could be killed, short of an army.

  Then again, in that scenario, Shadow would kind of have to be in on the betrayal, which made the whole idea laughable.

  “Should we be worried that the kid will run?” Scarlett asked him.

  Jesse shook his head. “I don’t think h
e’s going anywhere. He was limping when he walked into the bathroom, and he’s scared out of his mind. Besides, where can he go on foot that Shadow here couldn’t track him?”

  Shadow licked the air near Jesse’s face appreciatively. “What do you think, Shadow?” Scarlett asked the bargest. “Can we trust Owen?”

  Shadow’s head tilted sideways for a second, a perfect mimicking of “Let me think about it.” Then she licked the air again and sort of pawed the ground in front of Scarlett.

  “She thinks so,” Scarlett translated to Jesse.

  She rinsed the bargest one more time and then turned off the hose faucet. “I know you’re gonna shake the water off,” she said in a warning tone, mock-glaring at Shadow. “But if you wait until Jesse and I get back inside, I will give you one of those three-foot ostrich bones I’ve been saving.”

  Shadow’s club tail waved, but there was something mischievous about it. Scarlett dropped the nozzle and grinned at Jesse. “Run!”

  They dashed around the side of the house, Scarlett laughing breathlessly as they narrowly avoided an exploding grenade of water. For a creature only half-covered in fur, Shadow could really shake off water with the best of them.

  Scarlett paused at the front door, leaning against the wall for support. She was still grinning, and her joy was infectious.

  “I got her back,” she said, her breathing finally slowing down. There were tears of happiness in her eyes. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with the”—she gestured at her stomach—“or the Luparii or whatever, but I got her back.” Her face broke into a joyous smile. “I got you both back.”

  Without thinking about it, Jesse took two quick steps forward so he was inches away from her. Scarlett’s grin faded, but she didn’t move away. For once, she didn’t even make a joke. She just gazed up at him seriously. When he slid his hands around her hips underneath the bulletproof vest, she reached up with both hands and entwined them around his neck—

  And then Shadow came rampaging around the corner of the cottage, nosing her way between them in a total dog move. Jesse instinctively stepped back, but not before catching the look of relief on Scarlett’s face. She was glad the bargest had interrupted them.

  Shadow pawed at the doorknob, and Scarlett twisted it so she could barrel in.

  “Let’s . . . um . . .” Scarlett mumbled, and then she ducked past him into the house.

  Jesse cursed himself. What the hell had he been thinking, trying to kiss her? This was Molly’s fault, he decided. She’d gotten into his head. But if Scarlett could compartmentalize, so could he.

  The shower was off when he went back inside. A moment later Owen emerged in a pair of Scarlett’s baggiest sweatpants and a too-big Hair of the Dog tee shirt that had probably belonged to Eli. Owen was a bit older than Jesse had first thought, probably twenty or so, with light brown skin that nearly matched Jesse’s own. His eyes were gray blue, same as his grandfather. He looked scared and a little scrawny, and Jesse wondered whether the Luparii had been feeding him. Scarlett must have had the same thought, because she ushered them into the kitchen and started making peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches. “Is there someone you need to call?” Jesse asked the kid. “Someone who’s worried about you?”

  Owen tilted his head, thinking it over for a moment. “Yes and no. My dad’s not in the picture, and Mom died three years ago. I’ve got lots of cousins—you saw the picture—but they’re all at least an hour away. I was living with Grandpa until last year, when I finally started college at Cal State Long Beach.”

  He didn’t so much trail off as nod off, and Jesse realized the kid was past exhaustion. “Owen?” he said.

  The boy’s eyes snapped open. “Right. Um, I’m in the dorms, but . . . I don’t think it’s safe to go back.” He looked down at his hands, which bore a number of small scrapes and bruises. “They got my wallet, with my student ID card. That’s the first place they’ll look for me.”

  “Yeah, well, this is probably the second,” Jesse said, looking at Scarlett. She handed him a sandwich and gave one to Owen. “We should move.”

  “You’re not wrong,” she said, “but to where?”

  Jesse thought it over as they ate, standing around the kitchen or perched on stools. She was right; it was a problem. “If they’ve been watching us for a couple of months, they know all about Will and Dashiell and Kirsten. It’d be too easy to find us there.”

  “And Shadow is too memorable for an anonymous hotel,” Scarlett added, giving the bargest a fond look. “If one guest takes a picture of her in the lobby and posts it to social media, we’re screwed.”

  “True.” The blinds in the kitchen were closed, but Jesse still had that itchy feeling, like someone was targeting them. “We still need to get out of here, though.”

  Owen was listening to the conversation with a kind of detached interest, like a kid whose divorced parents were determining where he would stay that weekend.

  “What about Hair of the Dog?” Scarlett suggested. “I still have a key, for emergencies, and no one will be there for hours yet.”

  Jesse nodded and grabbed an extra sandwich for the road. “Let’s go.” He glanced at Owen. “You can explain on the way.”

  Chapter 25

  We crammed into the Lexus. I told Jesse he should drive because I didn’t like the car, but I think he knew I was nauseous again. Jesse and I had enough room up front, but Owen was smooshed in the back seat with Shadow, who immediately began fogging up the window as she hulked in the seat next to him. Jesse covertly hit the child safety locks so Owen couldn’t bail out.

  I had about a thousand questions for the kid, but first I had to call Will and let him know where we were going. He was awake, despite the early hour, and Dashiell had called him to say the meeting was off, so he knew about Shadow and Owen. Without saying it outright, I intimated that we were going to hole up at the bar for a few hours. The Luparii probably knew about Hair of the Dog, but hopefully they wouldn’t expect us there before it was open. Plus, it was on a busy commercial stretch of Pico, which would be much harder to attack in broad daylight on a Sunday morning.

  “Fine, that’s fine,” Will said distractedly. “I’m not sure we’re even going to open today.”

  He sounded even worse than I’d expected. “Is everything okay?” I said cautiously.

  To his credit, Will didn’t respond with “Of course it isn’t fucking okay, you moron.”

  “I’m still trying to get as many of my pack out of the city as I can,” he explained, “but it’s complicated because of territory. On top of that, half the wolves I talk to hear the word Luparii, and they want to stay and get their revenge for Drew and Terrence.”

  Oh. Trying to put a positive spin on it, I said, “Um, there’s always the other half?”

  Will sighed. “Many of them think running is the coward’s way out, and I’m a bad leader for suggesting it.”

  So much for that positive spin. “I’m sorry, Will,” I said, meaning it. Jesse gave me an inquisitive look, but I gave him a little headshake. “Hopefully we’ll have some answers soon.”

  As soon as I hung up the phone, Jesse said, “How’s he doing?”

  “Not great.” I glanced over my shoulder at Owen, who was making himself as small as possible. Jesse got the message: I didn’t want to fill him in while the kid was listening.

  Owen picked up on the attention and straightened up just a little. “Um. Okay. Where should I start?”

  I was about to say something dumb like “at the beginning,” but Jesse jumped in with “Start with yesterday morning, when they killed your grandfather.”

  Yeah, that was probably a better spot.

  “Okay, well, I wasn’t even supposed to be at Grandpa’s yesterday, but I promised him I’d stop by in the morning and help pack boxes. He’s . . . he was supposed to be moving from the house to an assisted-living place in a few weeks. Anyway, around ten there was a knock on the door. Grandpa had fallen asleep in his chair, so I went to answer it.”


  He paused, and I turned sideways in the car seat so I could look at him. “Through the little window I saw a woman, maybe your age, and an older man. He was probably sixty or so. And I . . . I opened the door.” His voice broke, and guilt washed over his face. “I just thought they were lost, you know? I mean, this is Long Beach, in the middle of a nice suburban area in broad daylight. Hell, the woman had a yoga mat on a strap.”

  “I would have probably done the same thing,” Jesse assured him.

  I doubted that, but it was a nice thing to say. “Go on.”

  “The man pulled out a gun and made me back up, into the living room. Grandpa was just standing up to follow me to the door, but he saw the man, and his whole face turned white. I mean, Grandpa is—was—a pale guy anyway, but for a minute I honestly thought he was having a heart attack. But he knew the other guy. He called him Thierry.” He pronounced it tee-e-REE. “And Thierry knew Grandpa’s real name, Otto. He ordered Grandpa to give him the scroll.”

  Okay, that was a lot of information. I said, “What do you mean, his real name?” at the exact same moment Jesse said, “What scroll?”

  Owen chose Jesse’s question first. “It’s a spell,” he explained. “Grandpa stole it from the other Luparii a long time ago. That’s why he left them. Changed his name and hid in Los Angeles.”

  Jesse and I looked at each other. Karl Schmidt had been a Luparii deserter?

  Jesse told Owen to go on.

  “Okay, well, Grandpa tried to play dumb at first, and the blonde lady opened up her yoga mat—it was actually a false compartment, kind of smart—and pulled out this”—Owen’s voice dropped into an awed hush—“sword.