Selected Short Stories Featuring Cry Wolf

by Nicolas Wilson

types.”

  “Blood’s about the only thing I do pay attention to.” He’s preening- and yeah, now I do want to beat on him a little- but Pawn’s already a lock for bad cop. But ‘bad’ is relative.

  “I’m not some college girl you’re trying to bang- I know you’re a predator. And you know your prey. You have to. Especially in a place like the Cauldron. It’s the only way you can keep from trying to feed off a mage or a hunter, or maybe something worse.”

  “Mages stink to high fucking heaven of the craft. It’s in your blood, on your clothes, fingertips. I ain’t ever been close enough to know if you shit magic, too. But hunters, yeah- never know when the rabbits have claws unless you’re careful.” Something flashes in his eyes, and I know- and suddenly all his bravado makes sense.

  “You don’t know the room, do you? Because you weren’t there- not initially. So who the fuck pointed you towards the body?

  He is a predator, and knows he’s cornered, so it’s die trying to kill me, or, “Patrice.” He says the name softly, protectively.

  I change my tone, trying to reassure him. “And who’s she?”

  “Girlfriend.” He clams up anyway. The body’s likely a dead end, and whatever is going on with this vamp is probably my only lead- and no amount of magic can heat back up a cold trail.

  “You kept her out of your narrative. Why? Or maybe you’d like to tell me why you haven’t asked for an advocate from the VC. You know that’s your right, by treaty, right?” He doesn’t deny it fast enough, and he knows I have him by the short hairs. “I got all day. And Pawn’s got all night. Given the amount of blood you’ve lost already, I’d be surprised if you’ll last that long.”

  His eyes flash red at me, but before he can do something stupid he recognizes it’s the situation that’s gone wrong on him. Being stupid only makes it worse. “I turned her.” He flicks his tongue over his eye teeth, and I notice his fangs are drawn- he was that close to jumping me. But it’s out there, now. His secret.

  I try not to betray too much. According to the treaties, the vampire colonies police their own. Anything that might endanger the colony- like turning a human without sanction, or killing during feeding- is forbidden. Which means if they find little Cedric and his lady out, they either murder the both of them, or spend the next decade torturing him to make sure the lesson sticks. Maybe both, if he finds the colony in a lousy mood, and it’s a rarity to find them in anything else.

  But that’s if they find out. “We’ll need to talk to her.” There’s a moment, where he calculates attacking me, and how many milliseconds it would take to tear out my throat, and I pull the meanest spell I can remember into my forethoughts. His muscles relax enough he I don’t think he’s preparing to pounce, he just needs a little more pressure. “I don’t report to the colony authority, and what consenting adults do is their business. But I need to know what I can about this murder. So I’m asking that you bring her in, so I can talk to her.”

  “Not that little pit bull of yours?” He’s earnest; it’s at least a part of why he lied to us- he knew Pawn would get his licks in, and he was trying to shelter her.

  “He doesn’t even need to be in the room.”

  “So does that mean I’m free to go?”

  “Sure. But better get her to me quick. Pawn gets… antsy. Neither of us want him to go looking for her.”

  “Yeah.”

  I put a hand on his shoulder as he stands. “Keep her nose clean. You know what they’ll do to the both of you if she gets found out. And I’ll see if we have a brick of halvah, and I can get you another bag of coagulant factor. Unless you want me to try to cauterize it.”

  “You’re as likely to burn a hole in my face.”

  “Fair enough.”

  I barely have to look at Pawn for him to go scurrying for the halvah and the CF. He’s in deep shit, and he knows it. And Rook’s full of righteous pissiness. I should have expected as much, since it’s noble goddamn sentiment that’s kept most of the covens out of proper government- because authority is always messier than philosophy.

  “Let me see if I’ve got your job description straight: you beat and bully the people who help you until they probably won’t help you a second time?”

  I try not to snap at her. Interrogation’s never pretty, even when Pawn isn’t involved. And I also don’t have the heart to tell her just how vanilla this one actually was. “That’s probably how this played out. But more often than not, interrogation gets you information a witness wouldn’t give up willingly. Interrogation’s a part of what I do. So’s scene investigation. Tracking. Pawn goes home and blackout drinks tonight away, and Bishop, after a day or two pulling apart that overcooked McNugget gets to set it aside. But this case is mine until I bury it. Pawn’s an ugly little thug-”

  “Thanks,” he says, before realizing he should have kept his nose buried in his refrigerator, trying to find the halvah.

  “but he’s a terrier, and barks real loud to keep people in check. But when they become unchecked, it’s my job to find them and shut them down.”

  She wants to fight it out, but her diplomatic instincts kick in. “Fine.”

  “Just take it,” I hear Pawn from the other side of the room. Cedric walks toward the door, and Pawn keeps jabbing him with the halvah and CF; he won’t take them, and I understand why. I grab them from Pawn, and Cedric takes them, gently, out of my hands. He nods to me, but his eyes are sad.

  “Sorry about that little trip you took,” Pawn says, and claps him on the shoulder.

  Cedric’s eyes go red again, and he nods in my direction. “If he weren’t here, I’d rip through your neck like tissue.” He slams the door before Pawn’s hand can start to gravitate to the snub-nose in his pocket.

  “Guess I won’t be using him as a CI anymore.”

  “They’re gone,” I tell him. “Whatever goodwill he banked with us or the VC, he can’t trust anymore. So he’ll take Patrice and disappear, go to a new city, start over with a different colony.”

  “Hey, don’t blame me,” Pawn says, before I even get a chance to. “I know Patrice, and that she’s been hanging around Cedric. But I didn’t fucking know he turned her. Christ. I’d have torn out his fangs if I’d known that. You know those VC fucks- look for any reason to pitch the blame on us humans.”

  “They’re human, too,” I correct him.

  “Keep telling yourself, that, pal. I prefer not to share a species with people who see me as livestock.”

  “What’s our next step?” Rook asks.

  “There’s an off-chance Cedric brings Patrice around on their way away. Otherwise, Pawn will track her down, if he can, and I’ll ask her, gently, what went on.” Pawn, midshaft on the cock-n-balls, glares at me. “But their story seems to match Tim’s, so it’s probably a dead end. Otherwise we’re waiting on Bishop.”

  “Want to get some more coffee?” she asks. “Slightly warmer, or colder, this time?”

  “Sure. Let’s walk.” I figure pumping her legs will get some of the tension out so we hoof it to Voodoo. We get less than a block before I realize she’s watching over her shoulder. “Worried about the vamp?”

  She blushes. “Shouldn’t I be?”

  “Wary, not worried. One to one, a mage trumps a vamp. They’re faster, stronger, more agile- but that only matters if they can get in close. So it’s basically suicide for a vamp to attack a mage. It might be worth it for him to try to kill Pawn- he’s a big enough prick- but you and I, no. That’d be suicide times 2.”

  “Unless there’s more than one of them.”

  “There’s a treaty, between the vampire colonies and the gambits. They don’t attack us, we don’t attack them. It’s a fragile peace, but one that’s beneficial enough that nobody’s looking to violate it. And Cedric has broken their rules; he can’t trust any of them with it- so he couldn’t ask any of them for back up.”

  “How close do you work with the colony?”

  “Kind of depends. If they’ve got trou
ble they’ll consult with us. If we’ve got a vamp suspect, we’ll consult with them. Theoretically, we could call them for back-up in a pinch- but I’d hate to have to rely on that. In a city this size, you’re almost guaranteed to have either an infestation or a colony. Since Salem’s the capital, I’d be surprised if you didn’t have a few vampires there, hangers-on or manipulators. I know a good extermination guy I can recommend to your Circle.”

  “A hunter?”

  “No, not one of those genocidal pricks. More of a catch and release specialist. Besides, if you can point them out to a nearby colony, they’ll take care of it.”

  “I don’t think I like the euphemism.”

  “It isn’t one. Most likely they’d set up a colony. Organize it. Without a VC, pretty soon you end up with an infestation- a de facto colony that’s rogue, doesn’t enforce the rules, and tends to attract the worst elements. Then it’s kill or be killed.” I hand her a card. “Just talk to my guy. Better to know. What the Circle does with the information is up to them.”

  She’s still mulling the idea when I get a call. It’s Bishop. “Better come down here.”

  “B? What’s wrong? You in trouble?”

  “Just fucking come. And bring Pawn.” We run back by the safe house. He’s doesn’t say a thing, but he’s ready when we get there- him not dragging his ass shows just how rattled he is.

  Bishop’s never been this taciturn before. I don’t know what that means- but it’s bad. I speed