by S. L. Eaves
“Later. Right now I want to find my guy.”
Her honing device says we we’re right on top of him, but we can’t tell which of the buildings it indicates. She jumps to the neighboring roof and pries up the first vent she comes across. We can’t get a visual, but the air duct provides good acoustics.
“I dunno, how many did you order?” A gruff voice reverberates through the ventilation.
“That him?”
She raises her finger to her lips.
“They’re all here then.”
“Good. Look ’em over, make sure they’re not damaged. Test a few if you have to, just be quiet about it. My client is sending over a buyer to evaluate the product tomorrow night. I don’t want any surprises.” The voice is less baritone, but full of confidence.
“That’s gotta be him.” Quinn sits up. “I want to peek inside.”
She isn’t asking for permission. In an instant she is off across the roof. She circles the ledge, then crouches down when she finds what she is looking for—a window with enough molding to support her.
“You’re insane. Let’s go back and report what we heard. We’ll come back tomorrow with the crew and intercept the buyer—he’ll lead us to the client.”
Quinn, ignoring me, is halfway over the edge.
“I let you tag along ’cause you said you had my back. Now help me get a better look.”
I hold her ankle with my good arm and lower her to the window. She grips the sill with her arms and hangs upside-down, while I flatten my body on the roof for support.
“Okay, pull me up,” she orders a few long minutes later. I oblige.
“Four guys: the lawyer and three others. Big brutes, wolves most likely.” She stands, dusting herself off. Doesn’t matter, we both look and smell like the sewer we’d come out of.
“We’re standing between four wolves and a full moon; we must have a death wish.”
“Three. My guy isn’t a wolf,” she sneers.
“What?”
“You said it, not me. I got a whiff of him earlier, a hundred percent human.”
All this fuss over a human. God damn.
“But you’re a liability in this crippled state.” She clips my shoulder. “So yeah, we can go.”
“You’re one stubborn bitch. I want you to know that.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Trent and Catch are sparring when we return. Catch raises his gloved hands and Trent relaxes his stance, looking over his shoulder at us as we enter.
“What’s the word, ladies?” Trent manages a flirty grin while detaching glove straps with his teeth.
Catch crosses to Quinn. His eyes narrow.
“Why’d you go off comm?”
Quinn takes her earpiece from her pocket and hands it to him.
“I got too many voices in my head as it is. Don’t need another.”
I don’t need to be here for Quinn’s disciplining. Exhausted, I make for my room. My arm is throbbing; the bone needs to be reset.
“Lori, were you with her?” Catch calls after.
“Yeah, I can vouch for her.”
A short while later Catch walks in on me struggling to wrap my arm.
“Here, let me hold that.” He holds the bone firm while I fastened the bandage.
“How’d it happen?”
“I got made. Your theory was dead on. At least about my target. He was a wolf. Caught up with me in a parking garage. I eliminated him, but it was a wicked tussle. Thank goodness for silver.”
“I should have come with you.” He kisses my wound, then pours me his version of a Bloody Mary.
“How’s Trent’s fighting?”
“He’s a born athlete. Coordinated, agile, fast…but he’s impatient and impulsive. A dangerous combination.”
“Just like his crush.”
Catch meets my smile. It isn’t news. Trent has it bad for Quinn and he isn’t shy about showing it.
“Did she brief you on her findings?”
“A warehouse full of wolves. Buyer meet-up tomorrow night. Sounds like the break we needed.”
I head for the bathroom and turn on the shower. Let the water run hot.
“We going to wait out the moon?”
“And miss the meeting going down tomorrow? Not bloody likely. We’re going in at sundown. We have strength in numbers and the element of surprise. I’m confident the five of us can take on, what? Three or four wolves? Full moon or not. Plus, Marcus and Xan will come if we need backup.”
At least Catch is sounding like himself again.
“We can’t blow this one. We have to get a name. Get the buyer.”
“By making our presence known, killing his operatives, destroying his merch. He’ll come to us. This covert intel routine is getting us nowhere fast. It’s time to make a statement. We’re not rolling over and playing dead.”
Catch begins to undress. He follows me into the shower.
“We’ll make our presence known. It’ll be one hell of a party.”
I pull him toward me. His lips nurse my wounds. Steam clouds the glass.
Chapter 26
After sundown we load a small fleet of sports bikes with weapons and ride to the dockyard. We stow our bikes in an alley a few buildings down.
Trent walks unevenly, having packed ten guns too many. He’s painted his face in black and gray camouflage and he looks ridiculous. Quinn stands by his bike lecturing him on what she perceives to be poor handling and mocking his appearance. Trent, loving the attention, soaks it up without complaint.
Catch dons his sword, preferring the silver blade to the silver bullet. I, on the other hand, opt for anything that can shoot through fur and carry a FN P90 and a couple magazines of silver bullets.
We approach the facility, taking cover as a taxi pulls uncomfortably close to our location and a young man emerges. The taxi departs and a teenager knocks on the door of our intended target. He is greeted by the lawyer and they disappear inside.
There is a fair amount of commotion out on the docks, and Quinn IDs the two men unloading cargo as the ones from the night before.
“Lori, take Trent and Quinn inside. Crina and I will take out the two on the dock. We’ll engage first. Create a distraction and draw them outside. Then you three can slip inside. Strike smooth and fast. Remember, we want the human civilians alive for questioning.”
***
Several minutes later I’m sprawled on my back outside the warehouse. An enraged werewolf emerges from what used to be a doorway. I lost my gun somewhere inside but keep a backup inside my boot. I slide it free and fire away. He lets out a howl as four shots pepper his chest. His charge comes to an abrupt halt. I scramble to my feet, gun trained on his heart. Ready. After a few brief spasms, his body goes limp and reverts to human form.
I prepare myself to go back inside. Trent and Quinn are still in there as far as I know. So are a couple of wolves. Gunfire explodes behind me. Catch. I turn and head down the dock.
Suddenly an arrow whizzes past, strikes the gun from my hand, and spears the stack of crates to my left. I spin and spot its owner on the roof. Reflexively, I jump up onto the crates and lunge for the roof.
The guy from the taxi gets off another arrow as I fly up at him. The arrow plants itself in my shoulder. I don’t slow down. He fumbles for another. Reloads as my feet strike the roof. In an instant, I’ve got him by the throat, holding him suspended off the edge by my pierced arm.
This human is intrepid, I’ll give him that. No slouch with a crossbow either. He’s taken aim at my heart, but is struggling to breathe, grasping at my fingers with his free arm. His bow remains steady, finger on the trigger.
“Don’t look down.”
“Don’t think I can’t get this shot off before I fall,” he gasps and chokes.
“I’ll break your neck before you do either. Drop the crossbow. This arm’s not gonna hold very long; someone’s put an arrow through it.”
***
Trent watches anxiously from below. Quin
n runs over, wiping blood off her arm.
“I saw Crina pursue a werewolf onto that boat.” She points to the dark outline of a two-story cargo ship at the far end of the dock, but Trent does not avert his gaze from the standoff above.
“She’s got the human.”
Quinn follows his gaze. “So she does…”
“You think we should help?”
Quinn shakes her head. “Nah, she looks like she’s got the situation under control.”
“Sure about that, babe?”
Quinn takes off for the pier. “Come on; let’s see what trouble they’ve found.”
***
The arrow presses into my skin. My arm is killing me, but questions fight their way through the pain.
“Why are you working for them? What’s in it for you?”
His knuckles whiten as he tightens his grip on the trigger. I can smell the fear.
“Drop the crossbow and I’ll place you back on the roof.”
No reaction.
“It’s a onetime offer.”
Running out of oxygen, he makes the wise decision to consent, lowering but not dropping the crossbow. I bring him back over the roof, feet still raised inches above the surface. I rip away the bow with my good arm as I release him. He takes deep breaths, rubs his throat, and studies me. I smell through the fear.
“You’re human.”
“For the moment.”
“Did they infect you?”
“Yes.”
“Voluntarily?”
“No.”
“Let me guess, you did some odd jobs for quick cash. Trust was gained, they brought you deeper into their organization, eventually turned you.”
“Something like that.”
Plays like a bad mob movie.
“Then you have information I need.”
“I’m not giving you anything.”
I see dired blood and pull the shirt from his shoulder to reveal a bite mark. Fresh. Made today.
“You haven’t turned yet, but with the full moon, the process—which normally takes days—will only take hours. After the transformation, you will carry the virus, the curse till death. Time is not your friend, but I can cure you.”
“What possible cure can you offer? Death? Vampirism? No thanks.”
I shake my head. “I have an antidote; you don’t have to share their fate.”
“Why?”
“You have information I want.”
“Cure me first.”
Crina keeps a kit on her bike. I think about what Catch told me, that the antidote is simply vampire blood. Vampires can’t be turned into wolves. A trace amount of blood injected into a human will wipe out the infection before it takes hold of its host. Fool it, so to speak. As long as he hasn’t been swapping blood with any vampires lately, he’ll be fine. A small amount of vampire blood won’t harm a human, not permanently. All the same, I don’t dare disclose what I’m about to administer.
We reach the alley where our bikes are stashed. It’s my first time injecting anyone, but I try my damnedest to mask my trepidation. He winces as the needle breaks flesh. He makes a fist, unclenches, then repeats as the veins throb in his arm. If he only knew how thirsty I am…
“How do I know it worked?”
I don’t know how or even if. I’m rather skeptical of the whole process. But we desperately need answers.
“When you don’t grow a snout and start pissing on fire hydrants. Now tell me who you’re working for.”
“S&D Pharmaceuticals. Two men, brothers, have been paying off customs to smuggle in chemicals, lab equipment, weapons…I’m not sure of specifics. I can give you names of a few of the people—er, wolves—you killed tonight, but—”
I remember the S&D emblem on Adrian’s papers.
“Where are they operating out of? I assume there’s a base somewhere in the city.”
He rolls down his sleeve, looks around.
“Two places I know of besides here—a law firm on the Upper East Side and, just recently, a hotel downtown. I run packages; they tell me nothing. Cash does all the talking, ya know?”
“But you knew you were working for wolves. And tonight wasn’t your first time holding a crossbow.”
“Yes. They know you guys exist. They call you The Endangered. Everyone under S&D employ is advised to carry a stake.” He shrugs. “We keep a stash of crossbows in that warehouse. I’ve messed around with them before.”
“Did they know we were coming tonight?”
“No. Well maybe. We were on high alert. They suspected your arrival in town. Apparently one of their associates went missing.”
I give a huff.
“How did you get recruited?”
“One of the guys, a wolf, was a friend of mine. Said I’d make some quick cash. Deceitful asshole. Hope your friends took him out after what he did to me. He and two others were running the show until recently when the bosses—the brothers—arrived. Suddenly the warehouse started seeing lots of activity; various people coming and going. Maybe a dozen new faces over the past couple weeks. And I have not met the brothers. Couldn’t give you a positive ID.”
“So you’re telling me these brothers are leading the whole operation? That they are wolves? Running everything under a tidy corporate veil?”
He nods. “Pretty absurd. But yes, that’s how I understand it. Dunno what they are planning. I moved envelopes. Cash. Paperwork…”
“Right. Ok. So where is this hotel?”
“The Hyatt. 47th and Madison.”
“You’ve been very helpful. Doubt anyone will come looking for you after tonight, but just in case, you should lie low till this blows over.”
“No problem.”
I mount the bike and race back toward the dockyard.
***
My tires screech against the damp wooden planks of the pier. Crina and Trent are carrying a battered Quinn from the boat. She has one arm around each of their necks and is drifting in and out of consciousness. She seems unable to put weight on her left leg. I dismount and run up to meet them.
“What happened?”
Quinn groans.
“Explosion. Fuel tank on the cargo ship caught a stray bullet.” Trent glances back at the ship. “I think it’s gonna blow.”
Black smoke billows from all angles. His assessment seems accurate.
“Where’s Catch?”
“He was on the ship with me, but I lost him. Thought he returned to the warehouse,” Crina explains.
I take off down the pier and jump onto the deck of the ship. The heat instantly flushes my skin, smoke searing my eyes.
“Catch!” I run in the first opening I can find. Flames greet me in bursts from the floorboards. I stumble, squint and fight my way inside, calling Catch’s name. The smoke is blinding, but it is hard to miss the “Hazardous Materials” and “Flammable” warning labels on the rows of containers lining the ship. Not needing to breathe comes in handy for situations like this.
I trip over something solid. A body. A naked, badly burned body that used to belong to a werewolf.
“Catch!”
Flames illuminate the far end of the room and I spot a silhouette of Catch’s head beside an overturned container. I run over and discover him trapped beneath a steal tank and some fallen beams. His right arm is crushed underneath the tank and a beam has impaled his left just below the shoulder.
I fall to his side; he blinks up at me through the haze and smiles faintly.
“Hey doll. They finally managed to crucify me after all.”
I heave my body against the tank. Its metal surface burns my skin, but it gives and rolls slowly off Catch’s arm. It is burned black and remains immobile.
The beam proves more of a challenge. Resolute in its position, it refuses to budge even an inch. Then the roof above us shifts and cracks the beam. I leverage my shoulder under it and pry northward. It comes loose and Catch crawls to his feet.
“Thanks, love, I owe you one. Now how do we get out of here?�
��
Good question.
The boat rumbles. It is preparing for another explosion. We stumble to a doorway and kick our way through. Catch’s arms are limp at his side and he has extensive burns over most of his body, but he manages a shaky walk. I try to help, but his arms hurt to the touch.
We emerge onto the deck. No sign of the pier. Wrong side of the ship.
“Shit. We gotta go around.”
“Bloody hell.”
The rumbling increases. An explosion rings out from the bowels of the ship. We are sent airborne. Water strikes my body and pulls me downward. I never learned how to swim.
***
When light returns, I feel a hard surface against my body. I blink the light into focus and puke up the water I’d swallowed. I am back on the dock by the warehouse. The others stand around me. Catch kneels beside me.
“You all right?”
“I’ll live. Apparently. What happened?”
“Explosion tossed us overboard. Crina and Trent pulled us out.”
I stand and ring dirty bay water from my hair.
“Wow. Thanks.”
“Now I get what you see in her. She’s as crazy as you are.” Trent nudges Catch.
“We have to keep moving. Cops will be all over this place.” Crina is dousing our surroundings in gasoline. She is fighting a limp herself.
These wolves had done a number on us. They weren’t the newly turned beasts reacting out of terror and confusion that we were used to facing. These wolves are seasoned fighters and not new to their fury form. If this is a taste of what’s to come, we are in for a hell of a beating.
“I know where they are operating from. A hotel. Downtown.” I wring water from my clothes. “The human. Messenger. He’s brought packages there. The, uh, Hyatt.”
“Good. We’re going.” Crina tosses the gas canister aside. “Trent, I need you to take Catch and Quinn back to base. Lori, brief me on the way there.”
Trent helps Quinn, who had been sitting on a crate, to her feet. I kiss Catch.
“Love you, babe.” He tries to embrace me, but his arms won’t obey.
“I’m driving,” Crina declares as we reach my bike.
“Hell you are—you can barely walk,” I protest, holding up the keys.
Crina squeezes my shoulder where the arrow pierced and I flinch. She snags the keys and mounts the bike. I sigh and swing around behind.
