by Mac Flynn
My face fell. “So more traveling?” I guessed.
Luke smiled. “I’m afraid so. If we can stop our enemies from smelling invisible to our noses than we’ll take away our greatest disadvantage.”
“So where do we go first? To the cleaners or to Stacy?” I asked him.
“Stacy’s region is just north of Mullen’s and they’re both south of here, so we’ll head to her first,” Luke answered.
“If that’s what you’re doing, then count me in,” Baker spoke up. We turned to him in surprise.
“But you can’t leave your kids,” Luke argued.
Baker shook his head. “I’ve got some good neighbors who will take care of them. Besides, if I don’t help you then I won’t be helping my kids because one way or another Lance’s plans will kill us all,” he pointed out.
Luke smiled and gave a nod. “Then we’re happy to have you on our team.”
8
Alistair had the good timing to return at that moment, and with our bag of clothes I’d dropped at the road when Sam captured me. “I’ve found the car. It’s in the small wilderness a few miles from the house,” he informed us. “There’s nothing in the vehicle to identify them, and the car appears to be a rental.”
“Probably hired under a false name,” Luke added.
“Undoubtedly,” Alistair agreed. “I also took the time to search the bodies of the men, but found nothing. However, there was something that seemed out of place in the tool shed.” He reached into his coverall pocket and pulled out the bottle I’d seen roll beneath the workbench.
“That guy had that! It popped out of his jacket and rolled under the bench!” I exclaimed.
Luke held out his hand and turned the cylindrical plastic bottle over in his hands. There was a single purple-colored pill inside, and no label on the outside. He popped open the lid and pinched the pill between his fingers. He raised the pill to his nose and sniffed. He wrinkled his nose and frowned. “This doesn’t have a scent,” he told us.
Baker held out his hand. “Let me smell.” Luke passed the pill like an amateur drug deal and Baker sniffed the tiny item. He, too, wrinkled his nose and passed the pill back. “No, it doesn’t have a smell. Any idea what it is?”
“No label, so no,” Luke replied. His face hardened and a dangerous glint slipped into his eyes.
My own eyes widened and I slowly shook my head. “Don’t you dare-!” I didn’t get a chance to finish before he popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed. I jumped to my feet and threw up my arms. “What the hell are you doing? That could be more cyanide!” I exclaimed.
He shook his head. “Poison would be better concealed than in a clear bottle,” he pointed out.
“That’s a big-”
“-scent,” Baker spoke up in shock.
I blinked. “A big scent?” I repeated.
Baker frowned and shook his head. “Laughton’s scent has disappeared.”
I lifted my nose in the air and gave a whiff. According to my sniffer my mate had vanished. “That’s actually kind of creepy not smelling you,” I commented to Luke.
“It’s unsettling for me, too, so let’s hope it doesn’t last,” he agreed.
Baker nodded at the bottle. “With the bottle nearly empty I’d say they don’t last very long.”
“But it’s a small bottle, so they might last longer than we think,” Luke argued.
“Boys, the enemy is Lance, not each other,” I playfully scolded.
Luke took well his words being thrown back at him because he smiled and pocketed the bottle. “You’re right-”
“-as always,” I added.
“-and we have more important things to talk about.”
“Like the bodies in my barn,” Baker spoke up. “I’m going to have somebody take care of my farm while I’m gone and I don’t want them stumbling on a corpse.”
“Maybe they’ll think it’s fertilizer?” I suggested. The joke fell flatter than a circus elephant onto a midget.
“Do you have any of that cleaner chemical around the house?” Luke asked him.
“Yes, but if you’re thinking of sprinkling the corpses with it then stop thinking. That stuff doesn’t last as long as a decomposing body,” Baker argued.
“It’ll have to unless you’re asking a human to keep care of the place,” Luke countered.
Baker furrowed his brow and a grudging smile slipped onto his lips. “That’s the first good idea I’ve heard you say all night.”
Luke grinned. “And the night’s not even over,” he quipped.
“It is for me,” I spoke up. I stood and stretched my tired arms. The long walk had taken its toll and I was dog-er, werewolf-tired. “I’m hungry, tired, and whinny. What’s a girl got to do to get some nice table scraps and a nice bale of hay to sleep on?”
Baker actually chuckled. “For saving my children, I’ll give you the finest leftovers I have to offer.”
We were served delicious leftovers, and sent back to the parlor with our arms full of blankets and pillows. Baker went to his kids’ room to stay with them, and Alistair opted to stand the first watch in the house just in case there were more gunman. Luke was scheduled for the second. “And I’ll take the third watch,” I offered when I heard their proposal.
Luke shook his head, and Alistair slunk out of the room to avoid the coming bloodshed. “If something does happen I’d rather one of us be on the watch.”
I folded my arms and scowled at him. “It’s because I’m a girl, isn’t it?” I challenged him.
“It’s because you’re my girl, and this trip has been dangerous enough without you standing guard,” he argued.
“Worried about my beauty sleep?” I teased him.
He stepped up to me and wrapped his strong arms around me. His eyes glistened with affection as he looked down at me. “I don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about that,” he cooed.
“Even when I’m old and my muzzle is gray?” I wondered.
His voice was soft and caring. “Even then. You’re my mate and no amount of time, age, or scars will change that.”
I blushed at his attentions and snuggled my head against his firm chest. I enjoyed the feeling of his body heat against mine, and didn’t even mind the dirty clothes. “I’m sure you say that to all the pretty werewolves,” I whispered.
He pulled us apart and leaned down so our lips brushed against each other. “You’re the only pretty werewolf for me.”
“How about a little proof?” I teased.
“Gladly.” He captured my lips in a searing kiss that had my body tingling from my head to my toes. We broke apart only because we needed air. I had a blush on my cheeks so hot I worried I’d been installed with parking brake lights.
“You sure do know how to make a mate feel loved,” I breathlessly commented.
He grinned. “Good. Now will you tell me your last name?”
My face fell and I stared at him in disbelief. “You still want to use that as our calling card in Minuteland?” I asked him.
“Manutia, and yes. No one but us and Brier will understand who it’s for.” I sighed, broke from him and slumped into a chair. He raised an eyebrow. “Is it that bad?” he wondered.
“It’s just, well, it might not be useful for us,” I warned him.
“How?”
“Because it’s too plain.”
“Nothing about you is plain.”
“Smith.”
“Pardon?”
“My last name. It’s Smith.” He looked at me with blinking eyes and a blank expression until his face burst into laughter. I thought he’d flipped. “What’s so funny?” I growled.
He gathered himself together, wiped the tears from his eyes, and shook his head. “I was expecting something a little more-well-”
“Grand for your mate?” I suggested.
“Just a little.”
“Well, it’s Smith. Rebecca Ann Smith.”
Luke smiled, knelt down in front of me and took my hand in his own. “It
’s a great pleasure to be properly introduced to you, Rebecca Ann Smith.”
“Ah, but you haven’t introduced yourself. That’s bad form for a gentleman, if we’re going to call you that,” I pointed out.
He pretended to take off an imaginary hat and bowed his head. “I am Lucas Christopher Laughton, Lord of Wildlands and keeper of the honorable house of Laughton.”
“That’s a long name. Should I call you ‘and’ or ‘the’?” I teased.
Luke grinned. “I prefer ‘of,’ but if you must call me something then keep with the Luke. It’s easier to remember.”
“And won’t turn heads when I call you a keeper,” I quipped.
Luke laughed, grabbed me around the waist, and pulled me into his arms. “My life was very boring before I met you.”
I smiled and shrugged. “What can I say? I’m the party of the life.”
We heard footsteps along the hallway outside the parlor and Baker stepped inside the room. He glared at us. “What’s all the noise about?” he asked us.
I sheepishly removed myself from Luke’s arms, and we both hastily stood to our feet like school kids caught in the closet doing more than putting our coats away. “Sorry about that. We were just arguing over the watch,” Luke replied.
“I won,” I quipped. Baker rolled his eyes, turned, and left us.
Luke glanced at me with a raised eyebrow. “Who won?” he wondered.
“I did. You just weren’t listening.” I grabbed his arm and tugged him into the chair I’d recently vacated. Sitting there in the dim light he did look a little tired. Fighting bad guys and saving the day was hard work. “Now you just get a good sleep and I’ll change shifts with Alistair,” I ordered him as I tucked him in tight with a blanket. By the time I was done he looked like a royal mummy wrapped by the lowest bidder.
Luke didn’t argue, but instead leaned his head back and smiled. “Just don’t fall asleep yourself,” he warned.
“Me?” I gasped in fake outrage. I sat myself down on the hard floor and smiled up at him. “Of course I won’t fall asleep!”
9
Yeah, I fell asleep, and damn quick. He wasn’t the only one who’d saved the day, and Baker’s delicious food sat so comfortably in my stomach that even the hard floor couldn’t stop me from leaning against Luke’s chair and falling asleep. The next thing I knew there was a clanking of silverware and dishes outside the parlor. I jerked up and frantically looked around. A weak sun peeked over the horizon, a blanket lay over me, and the chair beside me was empty. I scurried up and out of the room to find the family, Luke, and Alistair wide awake and making breakfast.
Luke noticed me over the handful of plates in his hands and smiled. “Good morning. Sleep well?” he asked me.
“You let me sleep through my watch, didn’t you?” I scolded Luke.
He shrugged and walked into the dining room that lay past the kitchen. “Maybe,” was the snarky reply.
I rolled my eyes and followed him, and the food, into the dining room. Our places were set, the food was ready, and I did justice to the meal. The kids were quiet all through breakfast, and I soon found out why when there came a knock on the front door. Baker stiffened and sniffed the air, then relaxed and answered it to reveal a middle-aged woman with a bright smile. “Good morning, Mr. Baker. Are Simon and Leslie ready?” she asked him.
“As ready as they’ll ever be,” he replied. He turned into the house. “Leslie! Simon! Mrs. Sampson is here to take you!” The pair shuffled out of their room with suitcases in hand. This was the neighbor who would care for them while we were out saving the werewolf world. That, or getting ourselves killed. They came up to their father, who knelt down and smiled at them. “Be good to her, and I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised them.
Leslie nodded, but Simon’s face was a mess of red cheeks and tears. He balled and flung his arms around his father’s neck. “Don’t go, Papa! Please don’t go!”
Leslie broke under the strain and joined her brother in clinging to their only parent. “Can’t we go with you?” she pleaded.
Baker hugged them both and pulled them away. There were shining tears in his eyes, but his face was firm and serious. “This is too dangerous, and I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to either of you. That’s why you’ve got to watch out for each other until I get back. You understand?” They both nodded, and he smiled. “Good. Now get along and behave yourselves. And Simon, no throwing fireworks into the chicken coop again.” The kids managed small smiles at remembrances of past mischief, and Mrs. Sampson sighed but good-naturally shook her head.
“Children will be children,” she commented. She took the children in hand, but paused and glanced over Baker. “You be careful now and come back to these kids right quick before they drive me to a madhouse.”
“I’ll try my best,” Baker promised.
“Good, now let’s be off, kids. I’ve got some nice goodies at the house waiting for some small hand to grab them and run away,” Mrs. Sampson told them.
The kids left with smiles, but we weren’t so jolly. We knew what was at stake, or at least the danger our enemies had in store for us. Baker turned to the three of us with a grim face. “We can take my car to the station and get seats on the next train to Manutia. There’s one that leaves most every day, but I don’t know what the schedule is right now.”
“We’ll go find out, but there’s still a problem. What did you do with the bodies?” Luke asked Baker.
“I put them in an unused, overturned feed trough out in the far pasture. No reason anybody should go out there, and I’ve got some humans managing the place while I’m gone so they won’t be able to smell them,” he replied.
“Good, then let’s get going so we can ask Brier about that body,” Luke commanded.
Baker glanced at us and pointed at our clothes. “Maybe you’ll want some different outfits. Those might have worked to get from Wildlands to here, but it won’t work as well from here to Manutia. Most lumber is unloading here,” he told us.
I looked down at myself. “I could also use a bath,” I added.
“The dirt will hide your appearance,” Baker replied.
I sighed and let my arms fall to my sides. “That’s what I was afraid you’d say.”
“I’ve got clothes for you men, and you can have some of my wife’s things. They should fit you,” the farmer offered. He brought out a few sets of clothes from his room, and Alistair and Luke were attired in blue overalls complete with cowboy boots and hats. I laughed myself silly when I saw Alistair dressed as a stud, but he got the last laugh when Baker handed me a flowery yellow dress.
I took it and frowned at him. “This is all she wore?” I wondered.
“She was fond of dresses. I could get you another, but it’ll look much the same.”
“It’s who’s wearing the dress that matters,” Luke spoke up.
I sighed and gave Baker a smile. “Thanks. I’m sure it’ll work just fine,” I told him.
Attired in our new disguises and with our spare clothes and disguise in a growing bag, the four of us set out in Baker’s old pickup truck to Agropolis. The town was bustling with activity as farmers and tradesman did business while mothers with children weaved through the bartering on their way to shop and school. Baker parked his truck in a public parking lot, and we went to the train station office.
“Are there any trains to Manutia today?” Luke asked the station master.
The elderly man dragged a finger along the page of a ledger laid in front of him and stopped on a line. “Yep. One comes in thirty minutes. Goes to Bolton. Wanting a ticket?”
“Four, actually. And can I send a message from here?” Luke wondered.
“Sure thing. Where to?”
“Sanctuary.”
The station master raised an eyebrow. “Another one?” the man mused.
Luke frowned. “What do you mean another one?”
“Yer the second person to be asking that in the last week when we gen
erally don’t get more than two requests a year,” the station master replied.
“Can you tell us who this person was?” Luke requested.
The man’s eyes narrowed and he frowned. “Ah don’t see how I can.” Baker pushed to the forefront, and the station master’s face brightened. “Well, good morning, m’lord. What can I do for you?”
“Bill, we need the name and description of that person who sent the other letter,” Baker commanded.
“Sure thing.” Bill pulled out a stack of messages and whipped one out. “The fellow called himself Prat. I remember he was a tall fellow with dark hair and pale skin.”
“And what was in the message?”
“See for yourself.” Bill handed the slip to Baker, and I got a glimpse over his shoulder of the contents.
* * *
To Whom It Concerns: I am in receipt of simple instructions, and no questions have arisen to complicate the project as a whole. Please send further instructions. - Prat
* * *
Baker and Luke glanced at each other, then Baker handed the slip back and smiled at Bill. “Thanks, Bill. Could you send a copy of that with my friend’s message?”
“Sure thing.”
Luke wrote out a few simple sentences that I didn’t get to see, and handed the paper to Bill along with a few dollars. At least, I thought it was a few dollars until I looked at what was on the faces of those bills. They had pictures of wolves and scenery. I nodded at them. “What kind of funny money is that?” I asked him.
He chuckled. “It’s the currency for werewolves. Like those of humans, we put images that are relevant to our history and our culture,” he explained to me.
“So it’s canine currency?” I quipped.
Bill coughed to hide his laugh, and Luke smiled. “Yes, I suppose you could call it that.”
“And you folks said you needed four tickets?” Bill asked us.
“Yes,” Luke replied.
Our message with its attachment was put in the queue for send-off and we were handed our tickets. In thirty minutes our train arrived to send us to Bolton, wherever that was, and we boarded it and grabbed a nice, solitary car. It had two long cushioned benches across from each other. Luke sat down and I beside him, and Alistair and Baker opposite us. I looked around at my friends for answers. “So what’s this Bolton place we’re going to?” I asked them.
