Henry shrugged. “Don’t know if he’ll have anything to add. He’s always shutting himself up in that room of his and doing whatever he does.” He waved his hand. “Where is the kid, anyway?”
“He’s at school still, honey,” Kathy said in a soothing tone, as if to a child. “Then after work he’s going to be at his part-time job, remember?”
“Right. Damned corner store crap.” One thick finger tapped his temple. “Working midnight to noon, you get a little befuzzled at times about where you are.” He shook his head. “Kid wants to go to college. Good for him, but I can’t afford it all. He’s working hard to make up what we won’t be able to do on grants and all that. Going to go far with that sort of ambition.” He looked up at us, pride in his eyes. “He’s a good kid.”
“I’m sure of that.” I nodded toward Brandon, edging to the door.
“That all you want?” Henry got to his feet with a groan. “Sorry I can’t give you more, but these damned dogs are killing me.” He pointed downward. “On my feet all shift and I ain’t getting any younger, and if I pull these off you’ll be writing about a lethal gas attack.”
We all chuckled at the joke. I glanced at Kathy, seeing the relief on her face. Her secret would stay safe, at least for the moment.
“I just need to know how you spell your last name.” Brandon continued the charade, boldfaced to the end. Damn, the man had charm to spare.
As the weary man began to recite the letters, I pulled Kathy aside. “If Tony shows up, please call me.” I handed her my business card. “Don’t call the cops, don’t call anyone but me. I don’t want the police involved.”
She nodded. “Please.” A fast glance toward her husband brought out a sigh. “Henry’s a good man but if he thinks Tony is in trouble...” The sentence trailed off.
I smiled. “I hear you. We just want to get Tony some help. Call me.” I raised my voice as Brandon stepped toward me, flipping his notebook closed. “And be sure to call if you see that large cat again.”
Kathy nodded as her husband stepped beside her, wrapping his hand around her waist. “We sure will.” The pair edged us out the door onto the porch, leaving us standing next to a stack of boxes and a short step away from the dying grass.
“That was smooth.” I let my breath out slowly.
“Thanks.” Bran beamed as he walked down the steps, offering me his hand. “I figured that he’d be more likely to be happy talking to a reporter than to someone looking for his kid.” He hefted the knapsack back up onto his shoulder. “Sad thing is that they didn’t even recognise their kid’s bag.”
“Well, it’s sort of obvious to me that there’s no time in that household.” I shuffled along the dry grass toward the gate. “I can’t imagine growing up and hitting puberty in this household without having someone around to help deal with being Felis.”
We trotted through the small fence and back onto the street. Bran turned toward me. “Is it really that tough?”
I shrugged while we walked down to the corner. “It’s just rough going through that time of life regularly—there’s a whole lot of hormones fluxing around.”
“So...do Felis women lose their minds too?” He hooked one hand around my waist.
“Totally. However, that doesn’t bring us any closer to finding Tony.” Spotting a small park nearby, I steered us toward the single empty bench. The two of us sat down near a passel of mothers watching their kids scramble over monkey bars and a playground that didn’t resemble anything I had growing up. The mixture of faux wood, bright plastic and various rope nets had me wondering if they would handle my weight.
“So now what?” Bran stretched out his arms, snagging my shoulder with one hand. “We’ve got the parents aware, we’re not calling in the dogs, so to speak, and now we’re here in a lovely quiet spot.” The knapsack sat at our feet. “I really doubt that he’s going to go to work today.”
“That would be a good bet. He knows someone’s after him and I don’t think he’ll be coming home anytime soon.” Opening up the bag, I began stacking notebooks on Bran’s lap. “Maybe there’s something here that’ll tell us where he hangs out, where he goes for a bit o’quiet.”
“Definitely not his bedroom,” Bran said as the stack grew higher. “Every kid has some hangout where you go when life gets rough.”
“Exactly.” I dug deeper, coming up with a well-worn business card. “Bingo.”
Bran grinned as I turned the card around and pointed it at him.
“Brad’s CyberCafe. About three blocks from here.”
The reporter chuckled, shuffling the books back into the pack. “Always someplace.” The jovial look left his face when he helped push the stack down. “And now what? We find him and chat him down?”
“I’m not sure,.” I said. “Part of me wants to thrash the kid into snail snot...”
“And part of you wants to hand him over to the Pride for proper training and teaching him how to understand his gifts.” He placed his hand atop mine. “I understand, Reb—but the guy’s a killer. He took out Janey and he tried to kill you.”
I sniffed the air. Something was wrong. “Weren’t you the one talking about understanding where he was coming from?”
“Yes.” He helped me to my feet, frowning while I continued to stare up at the sky. “But I don’t want you to go into this without a plan.”
My lips pulled back from my teeth in a snarl as I spun around. “I think there’s a plan here.” Pushing him down onto the wooden seat I tossed the book bag into his lap. “A really, really bad plan.”
Chapter 19
Sprinting across the playground, I spotted the shadow behind one of the low hedges, leaning against a tree. A cigarette dangled from Jess’s mouth like some sort of Western flashback, matched by her cowboy boots. The kids scattered in front of me, mothers snatching their precious cargo out of danger—probably thinking I was chasing down some terrorist or child abuser.
Jess smiled as I pulled up, taking a deep drag on the cig and blowing it over us. “Good senses, Reb, although I wasn’t sure you’d catch me. I’m still upwind of you.”
My teeth were still bared. “Don’t. Ever. Spy. On. Me. Again.” I grabbed hold of her light-blue blouse, my mind automatically labelling it as expensive and thus a prime target. “I mean it.”
Hammersmythe laughed, brushing my grip off with a swipe of her right hand. “Girl, you really don’t want to get into it with me.” Her eyes flashed. “I went easy on you the last time.”
Brandon chugged up, still carrying the knapsack. “Ah, the cavalry. Or at least the horse.” His eyes went to the lit cigarette. “Those things’ll kill ya.”
“Thanks,” Jess said dryly. She turned her attention back to me. “Did you really think we would let you handle the Hunt on your own? Now that we have a name...” The slim woman shrugged. “Leave it to us to bring him in. We’ll take care of him.”
“You’ll kill him.”
The older woman pursed her lips. “Maybe. Maybe not. Not your decision to make either. Belongs to the Board.”
I moved into the shadows, feeling the tension in my shoulders. “You want him? You work with me to get him.”
“Why?” The question slapped me across the face as if I were a kit again.
“Because that was the contract we agreed to. I find the one who murdered Janey Winters.”
“And you did.” Jess took another long drag, blowing smoke rings toward the crowded playground. “Now we’ll bring him in for you. Not a bad deal. You’ll still get paid.” The end of the cigarette shone a bright red as it bobbled from her lips. “Look, this isn’t the way we thought it’d go. We thought you’d find some crazed Family member who hated Janey or some crack-head who managed to get past her defences. We’re dealing with a rogue male, a wild animal who took out a full-grown woman.” Her eyes scratched over my body. “He’d take you out in the right circumstances, and you know it. You’ve gotten lucky twice—do you really want to go for the trifecta?”
I
swallowed past the sudden ache in my stomach. “He’s good, but he’s had no training.”
“He was still good enough to toss you down the stairs.” Jess nodded to Bran. “You know I’m speaking the truth. You want to protect her, as do I.” A smile twitched the edges of her mouth upward. “Although for very different reasons.”
Bran looked at me then away. “He’s damned good, Reb. I know you’re good but why not leave this to the experts.”
“Because it’s my job. Why is this so hard for you to comprehend?”
Jess chuckled again then dropped the cigarette on the ground, grinding it under her heel. “You’re even more stubborn than you used to be, which is quite the accomplishment.” A lazy smoke ring drifted toward me from her open mouth. “Okay, go get your kit then but I’ll be around for backup.” One salt-and-pepper eyebrow rose. “Don’t push it.”
I nodded. “Done.” It was still early afternoon, the children racing around with seemingly endless energy. I envied them. “Just don’t let him scent you. He knows me, but another strange Felis is going to send him skittering underground and then we’ll never find him.” Biting my lower lip, I looked at Jess. “He’s a kid, a scared, lost kid who doesn’t know what to do with himself. Emotions all mixed up, a mess inside. Let me at least try to do it nicely before you call a Hunt.”
Hammersmythe took a step back, blending into the growing shadows. “Your way first. Then our way.”
Then she was gone. I sniffed the air but she had blended back into the darkness and the cigarette smoke had effectively blinded me.
“My, she’s a charmer when she puts her mind to it,” Bran said while we walked back across the playground. “Sort of like the big sister you never had but who beat you up in the backyard whenever your parents weren’t watching.”
I felt like someone had punched me in the chest, the memories of the Challenge and of Jess beating me rising from the backwaters of my mind. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.” Mentally I slapped the rush of emotions and images surging forth. This wasn’t the time to dissect that mess. “Not right now.” I repeated, using the mantra to complete the cycle. “Not now.”
Bran stopped on the sidewalk, the book bag hanging from his right shoulder. “Okay.” The words held a sense of sadness, pain and more than a little affection. “Let’s go get this kid before someone else gets hurt.”
Brad’s CyberCafe was a bit of a misnomer—the small building sat just off of Yonge Street, tucked away from the average tourist. Two floors held enough neon lights to put Times Square to shame, with a handful of computers available for rent. A few truant kids were there, already playing the latest first-person shooter game, screaming and swearing while getting blown away by some crack shot in Taiwan. Adults were restricted to the guy behind the counter selling overpriced coffees and herbal teas, and a pair of lovebirds sitting in the far corner cooing to each other while their respective sons and daughters played the video games at the far end of the café.
“Nice place.” Bran glanced around the first floor. “All it needs is a jukebox.”
I laughed. “And a pinball machine.”
“Bah. These kids don’t know what they’re missing with their newfangled video games and fancy-dancy music tunes.” He winked at me, pulling a smile onto my face.
A waitress appeared within minutes of us sitting at one of the rare empty tables. The menu was simple, a photocopy stuck in a plastic holder. Bran let out a low whistle while he scanned the words.
“Fried mac and cheese. Yum.” He beamed at the waiting woman. “I’ll have an order of that. And a diet cola.”
“Just a regular cola for me.” I couldn’t help letting out a sigh as the young woman disappeared into the back. “Diet soda? With fried mac and cheese? You do see the silliness in that, right?”
Bran shrugged. “Sue me. Besides, I find the regular stuff too sweet.” His eyes went to the bar. “Heads up. Guess he didn’t see or smell you on the way in.”
A thin young man swung the door open, almost smashing it into the wall. Without looking around, he strutted to the counter and rapped his knuckles on the faux wood. Without a word, the barista got to work and a minute later a tall latte with plenty of foam appeared in front of the teenager.
“Man, he’s cool.” Bran leant in, whispering. “Tell you what—let me go and see if I can chat him down. Too many civilians around for you to start something here.”
I pressed my lips together tightly. The café wasn’t packed, but full enough that a fight wouldn’t go unnoticed or without some casualties—to people or furniture. “Go.” I grabbed his arm as he started to get up. “Sit on his left side.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s downwind. He’ll smell me on your other side.” I couldn’t help blushing. “It’s sort of obvious.”
“Ah.” Bran grinned.
“But don’t forget who and what he is.” My nose twitched. “Don’t forget.”
“I won’t.” Patting my arm, Bran grabbed one of the small macaroni bites that had just been dropped off at our table. “Damn, those are good.” Picking up his soda, he took a sip, carrying the glass with him.
He strode to the counter, sitting down on the stool next to Tony. The teenager turned slightly to assess this newest entry into his world. His nose twitched—he’d learnt fast how to assess a potential enemy.
“Hey.” Bran nodded. “How’s it going?” The conversation was so low that if I hadn’t been concentrating and had a bit more skill than the average human, I wouldn’t have heard anything.
Tony glared at him. “What’s it to you?” With a sneer he turned away, taking a sip of the fancy coffee.
“I know who and what you are.” Bran kept his voice low, neutral. Tony’s head snapped back as if he’d been slapped by a stranger on the other side. “I know what you did.”
“What?” The teenager’s voice was just as low, but shocked.
“Tony, I know you’re...” Bran’s finger drew an image on the polished countertop. I wasn’t sure what he was portraying but I was pretty sure what the meaning was.
The dark-haired kid looked down then at Bran’s hand sitting next to his. “So, what do we do now? You shoot me or something like that?” His words were sad, almost a whimper.
“Nope.” Bran leaned in further, making sure no one could hear them, except me, of course. “I just wanted to tell you that I understand.”
“You what?” Tony’s incredulous reply almost shattered my eardrums, it was so loud compared to the rest of their conversation. He reached back, pressing his greasy dark hair back down. The kit needed a shower badly, with a shave and a new set of clothes. “You get it? How?” A sneer appeared on his face. “You ain’t no catman. I can tell.”
“Nope.” Bran shook his head. “But I know what it’s like to be young and confused.” He smiled. “I used to run with the kids down at the Gardens at night.”
A sudden look of respect came over the kid’s face. Allen Gardens had always been a bit of a dangerous area for casual tourists at night, usually a haven for drug deals and wayward kids looking for a green place to spend the night. Obviously it had been one of the places Bran had frequented during his ‘research.’
“Cool.” Tony nodded. A wary look appeared on his face. “What, you a diddler?”
“Not likely.” Shrugging off the derogatory term, Brandon continued. “I wanted to hear their stories. A lot of them really came from screwed-up families. Like yours.”
“Not like mine.” The greasy-haired kid took another sip of his drink. “Nothing like mine.”
“What, you think you got a monopoly on growing up in a crappy world?” Bran flicked a speck of dirt off the bar between them. “Welcome to the club, buddy, and you getting all furry don’t mean you don’t have rules to live by like the rest of us.”
“Really.” Tony scraped a dirty fingernail across the edge of his cup. “Who the fuck are you to say I gotta play by any rules?” The grin sent a shiver up my spine, his tee
th just edging on bursting out. “I’m a monster. I can do whatever I like.”
“Sure you can.” Bran shifted his weight to one side, taking yet another submissive pose. The bastard must have spent a lot of time watching Animal Planet. He was working it like a pro. “But that don’t get you the girls or the girl you wanted, eh?” A sad smile touched his lips. “Come on, you were hot for teacher. Weren’t you?”
Tony’s cheeks went scarlet. Bran continued. “Hey, it’s cool. Listen, there isn’t a man alive who hasn’t gotten excited seeing some hot woman up at the front of the classroom, especially when they wear those tight little skirts and those blouses that open down to here...” His fingers wriggled in the air.
The rogue replied with a short laugh, nodding his agreement. “Mrs. Winters, she was a good lady. Really good legs, you know?”
“Sure.” Bran playfully dug his elbow into the teenager’s ribs. “Bet you liked it when she kept her back to you, you know? Get you all thinking about what she’d be like, eh?”
In my mind I knew Bran was just trying to be smart and sympathetic to the kid, but I was about to walk over there and crack their heads together like a pair of coconuts.
Tony nodded again. “She was one sweet looker.” He stared at his hands, placing them both on the countertop, palms down. “But I never thought... I mean...”
“You caught a whiff of her scent and went nuts, didn’t you?” Bran took a swig of his cola. “Tell ya, it’s not just you Felis who get it going at the smell of a woman. There’s nothing like it, that delicious sweet ‘come and get me’ smell.” He let out a low wolf whistle. “Let me guess. You follow her home that day, you want to talk to her about maybe getting together for a quickie. No one needs to know, just you and her and the alleyway.” The words tumbled out of his mouth as if he were sketching a picture. “You call her over, she comes to see you in the alley, in the dark, and you smell her and you know she’s just like you, and it’s a sign, isn’t it? She’s just like you.”
What God and Cats Know Page 23
