“That’s it?” Something in my stomach seemed to drop. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting or why. Then I looked at the time. “Oh, shit, I have to go.”
“Sky!” My mother reproached.
“Mom, no amount of prayer or good vibe-ing or meditation has worked. You know I’ve been patient. You know I’ve tried everything!” Tears were pushing into my eyes now. I’d always been an easy crier and now it seemed like I cried at the drop of a hat. “I can’t hang my hopes on some good dream of yours. It’s probably your subconscious trying to reassure you that your son isn’t a huge asshole. But he is.”
And then I hung up.
The weather and my mood had not improved by the time I got on the bus. Sitting with my forehead pressed to the sticky, cold glass, I hated everything. I hated the guy sitting in front of me with his headphones turned up too loud, the woman chomping on a bagel diagonal from me and the two girls shrieking with laughter at their phones. Both of them were young and pretty and skinny. Ugh. Laugh now. Wait till life gets a hold of you.
Meanwhile, I was a frumpy old lady in a dress that choked off my oxygen supply. I should have just opted for slacks and a loose blouse. But no, I had to try to look good. And now I was itchy and couldn’t breathe.
The bus was taking me to a start-up magazine and blog that wanted to be the next HuffPost or BuzzFeed. As one of their “top contributors,” which was a fancy way of saying “a well-paid contract worker who doesn’t get health insurance,” I was required at weekly meetings. Yet little else, which was nice. And writing articles for them was a good way to pay the bills and flex my chops.
At least, that’s what I told myself. What it had become was a convenient excuse for not finding a publisher for my book.
My heart squeezed and I pushed those thoughts away. Instead, I watched the busy streets and pedestrians strolling by.
Then I kept doing a double-takes as I thought I saw people I knew. It was weird.
Rolling up to a stop, there was a flutter of commotion as a crowd of people surged down the steps. I went to get up and sat back down. Man, I was out of it. This wasn’t my stop.
Turning back to the window, someone touched my shoulder and whispered, “Get off.”
I started and whirled around. “What?” Then I started again. No one was there.
I really need to get more sleep, I thought, rubbing my face.
Now the bus was idling at the stop and my knees were bouncing. I just wanted to get moving again. Why was this bus sitting here? God, King Transit, get it together.
Looking back out the bus window, my gaze vaguely traveled through the crowd crossing the street. I saw the profile of a guy laughing, his shoulders loose and his stride easy. A little sigh escaped me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed freely like that.
Next, to him, I saw his friend offer up a reluctant grin as though he couldn’t help himself and then glance back, over his shoulder towards the bus.
Is that…?
The friend was now walking away, but my eyes tracked him effortlessly through the crowd, as he was taller and broader than anyone else. The laughing guy was also tall – and still laughing – but I was trying to get a good look at his friend. The blonde guy.
The guy who looked like my older brother.
At that moment the bus lurched away and the two vanished into the crowd. My heart was pumping all the way down into my fingertips and my cheeks felt cold.
“Miss, are you alright?” A solicitous older man had lowered himself into the seat next to me and he was giving me a worried look. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
“I think I did,” I said, putting a hand to my heart as it seemed to shake under my fingertips.
During the meeting, I did my best to pay attention, but my mind kept wandering.
No, he couldn’t be in the city. It wasn’t him.
But I would know him anywhere. The way he walked, his hair…
If my brother is in the city, why didn’t he call? Wait, does he know I live in Seattle?
I couldn’t remember.
By the time the assignments rolled around, I was in a state of distraction. Should I call him? Would he pick up? Was he here to make amends? Who the hell was that guy he was with? Why were they both so damn tall and fit? Why did I have to be the short, plump one?
“Stanford, yeah. Can you believe it? I guess that’s why he calls himself that, though,” said the editor-in-Chief, Mary Loorner, with a laugh.
“Stanford?” I asked.
“Oh my God, that’s right,” Mary’s bright gaze had zeroed in on me. “Sky has connections.”
“I do?” I asked.
“Your dad, duh.” Joaquim Lee, CEO of The Whole Scoop, rolled his eyes. It was strange to work for a twenty-three-year-old, but no one could deny Joaquim was talented and possibly a mad genius. “Stanford tenured. Would he have an in?”
“An in to what?” I asked, flushing. “I’m sorry, it’s been a morning.”
“You do look a bit pale, honey,” Kira Goss, one of the other writers and a catty mean girl gave me a look of false sympathy. “There’s a bug going around. You don’t have it, do you?”
“An in to Professor Huxley’s talk tomorrow night,” Mary gushed. “It’s supposed to be huge. But it’s invite-only and we couldn’t score one.”
“Huxley?” I frowned as a picture of a round man with even rounder spectacles popped into my mind. “Oh, yeah, I think he is friends with my dad. Likes to hike, right?”
“Thank you, God,” Joaquim said fervently. “Please, Sky, you can have the piece, everything. Just get us in. HuffPost won’t even be there. But the Times, the Post – all will.”
“Damn, what is he talking about?” I asked. Doesn’t he study trees?
“Call your dad,” Joaquim ordered. “Then we’ll tell you.”
Nodding, I stood up and moved outside of the conference room. The hall was tall and filled with shadows from the brilliant light of the silver sky outside. Dialing my parents’ house, I chewed my lip as my guilt at hanging up on my mother increased ten-fold.
“Sky? Your morning getting any better?” my dad asked by way of answering.
My mind flashed to seeing the man who looked like my brother and I hesitated before answering. “Um, sure. Listen, Dad, I’m sorry about this morning. I just – I need to deal with this situation on my own. And I appreciate what Mom was trying to do…”
I trailed off as he sighed. “All of this negativity and stress isn’t doing you any good, kid.”
“I know,” I whispered, fighting down the urge to cry. Then I sucked in a deep breath. “Actually, I’m glad I got you. Professor Huxley is giving an invite-only talk tonight and I was wondering if you could swing me an invitation…”
“Hux?” My father’s voice became amused. “Oh, I can only imagine. Is this for work?”
“Yes.”
“Of course, then. I mean, you could probably show up and he’d be happy to let you in, but I’ll send him an email and get back to you.”
“Can you either email or text me? I’m kind of in the middle of a meeting. And thank you, Dad, this is huge. You have no idea.”
After agreeing to that and saying goodbye, we hung up and I slipped back into the meeting. They were discussing budgets and I allowed my focus to go hazy as I sat there.
Then my phone buzzed. All set. Have fun, Starry Sky.
Checking my email, I saw an invitation had come through and I glanced up at Joaquim. He caught my eye immediately and broke off what he was saying as a grin spread across his face. “You got it? Damn, that was fast.”
“Wish we had those kind of connections for Hollywood,” Kira muttered.
“Hush, Kira,” Joaquim ordered.
“Yeah, I got it. So what is this about?” As far as I could recall, Professor Huxley was a fancy ecologist who liked to spend weeks in the woods. Was this an environmental thing? A protest?
Joaquim and Mary exchanged an excited look.
“Know anything about cryptozoology and the hominid remnant theory?” Mary asked.
Chapter 3
“Should we have dressed up more?” I asked Rayner. We were standing at the back of a crowded lecture hall waiting for Whity’s friend to give his “talk.” People were being checked in carefully at the front and taking assigned seats. As Whitsy had swung us an invitation last minute, we were stuck in the nosebleed seats.
“For this?” Rayner asked, glancing over at me and grinning.
“Yeah. And for dinner after.” I paused, thinking about it. “Although if he’s Whitsy’s friend, he probably doesn’t mind flannel and jeans. Might be all he wears.”
“Maybe,” Rayner said and lapsed into silence again.
I bit my tongue, even though I was bored out of my mind and needed a distraction. I was getting jumpy. Sitting still had never been my strong suit. Or standing still, I guess.
Rayner and I had been in Seattle since this morning. We’d gotten our rental car, stashed our suitcases in it and spent the day roaming around the city and eating snacks. In a way, it was nice to be two single guys out on the town. I could flirt without meeting the reproachful, amused, and exasperated glances of Hazel, Kalin, and Willow.
There had been a lot of debate about who would come to Seattle and who would stay. At first, it was all of us, but Kalin was still training and Aunt Sil didn’t think we should all go.
“It might turn out to be nothing. Then you would have wasted your money going there for a weekend,” she pointed out.
“Might be a nice weekend trip,” Burr had argued back, but half-heartedly. He didn’t want to travel, but he also didn’t want to split up. The last time we’d split up, Burr had vanished on us for weeks, sending us into a tailspin of fear and worry. It turned out later he’d been kidnapped by a Spider Demon in Alaska and poisoned, so it was understandable, but still.
However, Rayner didn’t think we should all go either. He was leery about splitting up, too; we had a lot to do in Montana. We were trying to figure out a way to seal the Deadlands and prevent the Ash Walkers from coming through, crippling our greatest enemy.
So then it was going to be Ben, Hazel, and Rayner, but I pointed out that Rayner would be the third wheel. However, Ben and Juniper were also training and learning under Pea and Fern, the two Elder Healers. And Hazel needed to be working with Aunt Sil.
Wes had offered to go with Rayner, but he didn’t want to leave Kalin, so at that point, I pointed out the obvious.
“Listen, Ray and I are the only studly stags left in the group. If anyone should be trekking on a mission out to the big city, it’s us bachelors.”
Aunt Sil had given me a worried look, which I couldn’t understand.
Willow had snorted. “‘Studly stags’? I don’t know if we should let Cree loose on Seattle.”
“Aw, I can keep an eye on him,” Rayner had said, and we exchanged grins.
There had been some protest, but we were decided. If there was trouble, the rest of them could hop a plane or drive out. But it was nothing me and Rayner couldn’t handle.
“Kinda nice to be without the lovebirds, huh?” I asked him now, jostling his elbow.
He shook his head. “You’ve said that already.”
“I know. I just didn’t realize how much of a, uh…” I paused, “seventuple wheel I’d become.”
“Seventh,” Rayner said, chuckling and glancing at his watch. In the fluorescent lights, he looked tired and a little depressed. He’d never been the loudest or craziest, Wildman and I had taken care of that, but he’d always been full of joy. But lately, he’d been kind of down.
Thinking back, I recalled what Wildman had said to me before I left. He’d pulled me aside and given me a stern look. “Don’t you two go haring off and doing something stupid.”
“Hey, I don’t plan on getting drugged by a woman with eight legs, man. That’s all you.”
Burr cracked his knuckles. “I mean it, Cree. You may think Rayner will have his head on straight, but you gotta keep an eye on him.” He hesitated. “Don’t let him go off on his own.”
“What? Why would he do that? Hotshot Brothers are on buddy system until–”
I’d broken off, nearly swallowing my own tongue as I backtracked. I hadn’t meant to bring that up. I didn’t want to think about it. Or talk about.
Giving me his best big brother look, Burr had said, “Cree, do you maybe wanna–”
But I’d fled. “I gotta go pack, man. And yeah, we’ll stick together.”
Stretching my arms over my head, I wondered what would happen if I did a cartwheel down the aisle and jumped up on the stage, then did a break-dance. Imagining the looks on the faces of these proper people, all suited and nicely dressed, I let out a loud laugh.
“What?” Rayner asked. “What’s so funny?”
“Thinking about creating a commotion,” I replied.
Rayner shot me an alarmed look. “Quickfoot, not here. C’mon, let’s hit the bathroom before this thing starts, stretch our legs. I’m going stir crazy in here.”
“Oh, so it’s not just me,” I remarked as we walked out into a gray linoleum hallway with equally sad gray brick walls. Ugh, this place was so boring.
Unable to find a bathroom on that floor, we walked upstairs and the building changed dramatically. It was now all dark, polished wood with the hushed, quiet smell of a library. There were marble busts everywhere and fancy portraits. And up ahead, a bathroom.
As we walked by a grand staircase, with curving balustrades and wide marble stairs, a faint chill danced across the back of my neck, like a distant breeze from an open window.
I stiffened and so did Rayner.
There was a heavy scent on that breeze, metallic and familiar in a way that made my gut twist. Blood.
Without a word, we ran lightly up the stairs, following it up two flights to a dark hallway. It was silent in a way that boded no good and the rush of cold air was stronger, as was the smell of blood. Downstairs, I’d convinced myself it was merely the wind, but now, this close, I knew.
Both Rayner and I could see in the dark, but I had the sudden irrational urge to flick the light on. I didn’t want this shadow pressing on me on all sides.
Like your slow march towards death? came an ugly little voice in the back of my head.
“Shit,” Rayner said weakly, snapping me back to the present.
We were standing in front of an elegant door with a gold nameplate. Otis Huxley.
Exchanging a look, Rayner tried the door, but it was locked. He gave me a look and I took a deep breath. Glancing around, I saw no one, but there was a water fountain close by. With a twist of my hand, a small stream of water came out and I manipulated it into the lock.
With a groaning creak, the door swung open and both Rayner and I sucked in a hard, painful breath. My stomach roiled and clenched, my nose overwhelmed with the smell of death and rot.
In the office, everything was splattered with blood. Otis was sitting on his chair, head sagging limply to the side and an outside lamp reflecting off his glasses, lopsided on his face. His throat and chest had been ripped open by what looked like enormous claws.
“Cree, look at the wall,” Rayner said, his face white and pupils dilated.
Glancing up, I saw the oddly elegant script, red and gleaming like wet paint. My mouth went dry as dizziness struck me.
Some secrets must be kept.
“Thanks.” The police officer hesitated as he slapped his notebook closed. “I have to ask, are you two believers in all that stuff he was into? Bigfoots?”
Rayner and I were standing outside Otis Huxley’s office, which had been cordoned off with yellow tape. The hallway was blazing with light now and crowded with grim-looking people. A few minutes ago, a black bag had zoomed by, causing my stomach to drop through the basement.
“No,” Rayner said with a strained laugh. “We’re friends with a friend of his. See, we’re from Montana and uh, Professor Huxley studied wildfires out the
re. We’re Wildland Firefighters, hotshots. That was our real interest. Tonight was more curiosity than anything else.”
Rayner was a smooth, capable liar. You couldn’t even call them lies. It was more like carefully arranged truths covering up the real stories.
I, on the other hand, was someone who fell for those stories.
But tonight, I’d easily corroborated everything Rayner had said. I was too in shock and too confused for anything else. It was like an animal had attacked Otis.
And then wrote a message in blood? My jaw clenched at the thought. Could it have been a human? A Pale Eye? We’ve never known them to murder, but…
“Oh, good.” The cop blew out a breath. “Well, I’m wondering if maybe you’d heard if one of those crazies was after the poor professor – didn’t think he should be talking about revealing those ‘secrets’ or whatever, maybe?” We shook our heads. “Okay. Well boys, you check out. And I’m sorry about your friend. Also, thank you for your service.”
“Same to you,” Rayner said, nodding his head. “So we’re done here?”
“Oh, yeah,” the cop groaned. “I’m not. Also, I’d advise you sneak out the back way. Front is a mess of reporters. We’ll make sure to keep your names anonymous like you asked.”
“Thanks,” Rayner said, drawing a hand down his face.
With that, we walked away. Usually we avoided dealing with the police at all costs, but since Rayner and I had found the body, we knew we had no choice. It would look too suspicious to call anonymously. That and we were supposed to be staying with Otis while we were here.
My stomach lurched. “Shit, Rayner, where are we going to go?”
“We’ll figure that out,” Rayner said, pounding down the stairs. “Let’s get out of here.”
Outside, in the back of the building, it was cool and fresh. There was a small quad of trees with benches underneath them. I took several deep breaths and my head started to clear. Shoving the grisly scenes from earlier out of my head, I watched as Rayner paced around.
HOTSHOT BROTHERS: Coyote Shifters Page 52
