“It’s sterling silver,” Arthur informed him. “It will burn you.”
Garrett rolled his eyes. Then he reached out, snatched the small silver cross from Arthur’s hands and squeezed it in his palm. Priscilla watched his face for any sign of discomfort but saw none. After a few seconds Garrett released his grip and the cross tumbled onto the table.
His palm was completely unblemished, except for a shallow imprint of the cross on his palm. “Satisfied?” he asked sarcastically. “I told you, werewolves aren’t real.”
“They are,” Priscilla insisted. “I’d know that better than anyone.”
“Care to tell me why he’s not burned then?” Arthur asked. “You said silver should do the trick.”
Priscilla was flummoxed. Everything had made sense. His extraordinary size and speed, his unexplained hostility toward her, his outbursts, and the smell of wolfsbane could all be explained if he were a werewolf.
But … he wasn’t. Unless werewolves had gained an immunity to silver in the last few centuries since she’d been alive. She doubted it. It had been the preferred method of execution for captured wolves for a reason.
“He has to be,” she muttered to herself. “The wolfsbane would be a poison to him if he’s completely human.”
“Wolfsbane?” Luna asked, looking at them like they’d all gone mad. “Garrett hasn’t touched any wolfsbane.”
“He has to have,” Priscilla said. “I smelled it on him earlier when he grabbed me.”
“You based your hypothesis on the way I smelled?” Garrett asked incredulously. “I could have picked it up anywhere.”
“And where exactly have you been today?” Arthur asked. “I can’t imagine that wolfsbane is a particularly common thing to run across in your day to day life.”
“Work, then home. I stopped over at the Burke place to give Holly another talking to. Luna was crying this morning. She got rejected by another job. I told her that if she doesn’t want to have a lawsuit leveled against her for discrimination, she’ll knock this petty political power play of hers off.”
“That’s it,” Priscilla breathed. It felt like a puzzle piece had finally slid into place in her head and she could finally see the whole picture. And the whole picture looked grim.
“What is it?” Arthur asked, looking up at her in bemused irritation. “What’s that look for, Pratt? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
In a way, she had. A ghost of her past. There was a she-wolf out there who hated her and wanted her dead. It was a full moon and there was a predator in the night as deadly as she. And she had no idea where she was hiding.
“It’s not Garrett,” Priscilla said in a horrified whisper. “It never was. I knew I’d smelled it before. I knew there was a reason I disliked it.”
“Disliked what?” Arthur asked, and he sounded genuinely irritated now.
“The wolfsbane that Holly had growing in her kitchen,” Priscilla explained. “Garrett isn’t our werewolf. Holly is. And I think I know why she murdered her husband.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Tell me again why we’re out in the middle of nowhere, Pratt?” Arthur asked.
His headlights swept across the gravel road ahead of them and cast strange shadows in her peripheral vision.
“Because Holly Burke wasn’t home.” Arthur had sent five heavily armed men to check. Nothing.
“You said she wouldn’t be,” he pointed out. “How’d you know that, by the way?”
Priscilla shrugged. “It’s just a hunch. Lone wolves aren’t healthy wolves, Arthur. They usually got themselves kicked out of a pack for one reason or another. Without the backing of a solid pack to keep her safe, I’m guessing that she’s not going to transform in a place that’s surrounded by humans.”
“Why would we be a threat, if werewolves are as dangerous as you say?”
Priscilla laughed bitterly. “You still don’t see how powerful you are, do you? Humans think because we’re stronger and faster, that means we’re fearless. There are billions of you on this planet. You outnumber supernatural creatures by a staggering amount. You’re very good at killing things, and since the invention of guns, it’s been astonishingly easy for the average human to ward off attacks.”
“So you’re saying she’s staying away from town because she doesn’t want to be shot?”
“Among other things,” Priscilla muttered. “I don’t think she’d go clear into the mountains to shift. So this is our best bet. It’s remote, and most people wouldn’t think to come here. But it was good you sent the others to check any of the abandoned houses between here and Westwend.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because the only other place nearby with enough privacy would be a mountain range, and she can’t go there. There are bears in the Appalachians. They’re territorial and wolves don’t like interacting with bears at the best of times. She won’t do it alone. Too dangerous.”
The houses they were passing were in a sorry state. Most of them were condemned and had been slated for demolition. Whichever company had been responsible for their destruction had dropped the ball, and they were still standing even three years after the order. Several of the more unscrupulous elements in Bellmare and the surrounding area had converted them into meth labs.
Arthur had gotten himself injured during a sting operation last year, after one of the meth heads had taken a sledgehammer to his knee. Apparently the memory of that incident was still fresh in his mind as they drove, because she caught him rubbing at the knee more than once.
The houses had been absolutely covered in police tape, and occasionally one of the men in the department would check on this abandoned road, just to make sure none of the houses had been disturbed. If the police tape was broken, it probably meant there was a vagrant, drug dealer, or other unsavory character inside. The first three houses they’d driven by were untouched, except by the elements.
Their headlights swept over the last house in the row, and Arthur sucked in a sharp breath. The police tape that had covered the door was fluttering in the breeze, severed right down the middle.
“Bingo,” Priscilla muttered. “She’s got to be in there.”
“Do you have the syringe?” Arthur asked as he brought the car to a stop in an overgrown driveway.
Priscilla nodded and clutched the syringe in her hands a little harder. It had cost them about fifteen minutes they didn’t have, but she’d insisted that the officers bring wolfsbane to the precinct from the little garden by Holly’s house. Avalon had been able to give them the right mix to make a serum for Holly, and that was what she clutched tightly in her hand. Priscilla wasn’t entirely sure that the she-wolf would have dosed herself tonight, and wanted to be sure that they kept her from turning into a ravening beast during the confrontation.
“All right,” he muttered darkly. “Let’s go.”
Priscilla couldn’t help the tremors that rocked her body as she climbed out of the car. The very real danger they were in was hitting home. Every cell in her body wanted her to run in the opposite direction. Usually in a fight or flight situation, her instinct was to meet the threat head on. But not with werewolves. That was one beast she did not want to square off against.
Arthur drew his gun as they approached the doorway, keeping it aimed at the ground. Priscilla wanted to whimper as he stepped through the doorway alone. He was so fragile. So human. And what they were facing was not. She didn’t like that he’d gone first. So, fighting against her urge to flee, she stepped in after him.
The inside of the place wasn’t much to look at. The place was bare, except for a couch that had been eaten away by vermin. The broken windows let the light of the full moon stream inside, illuminating the figure of Holly Burke on the floor.
She’d drawn her knees up to her chest and was rocking back and forth, looking feverish. Right about now, her body would be gearing up for the change. Her skin would get hot, her bones would ache in preparation to twist and morph into a new shape, a
nd her eyes would grow keener and more wolf-like with every passing hour.
Even now, they were a wolf’s eyes, staring out at them from a woman’s face.
“Put your hands where I can see them,” Arthur said calmly, raising the gun to point at Holly. “It’s over, Holly. We know what’s happening.”
“Oh, do you?” she said with a cackle. Her voice had dropped in pitch, coming out more gravelly than usual. “Do you really now, Chief Sharp? Because I think you’re in way over your head.”
“We know you killed your husband,” Arthur said. “We know you argued with him that day at the bakery. We know that you cut his throat.”
Holly continued to rock, her arms tightening around her knees. “Stupid, stupid man,” she muttered. “He never listened. He never understood.”
“And you never explained it to him, did you?” Priscilla asked, stepping closer in spite of her fear. “You could have saved yourself heartache if you’d told him that you were a wolf. But I’m guessing you didn’t want to scare him off. He was the first man who had loved you in how long? Of course you weren’t letting him go.”
Holly bared her teeth, and they were already growing into fangs in her mouth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You could have told him that the change is too violent for any children to survive to birth,” Priscilla continued mercilessly. “You could have told him that. But you made him think that you were a human, just desperate for a child. Any child.”
“Shut up,” Holly snarled.
“What happened in that shop, Holly?” Arthur asked, keeping his gun steady. If she made a threatening move toward either of them, he’d pump her full of enough tranquilizer to take down a bear.
“Stupid man,” she muttered again, but this time her eyes filled with tears. “He should have told me. He shouldn’t have made arrangements to bring that thing into our house. It wasn’t a child. I just wanted a baby. A human baby who I could love. Was that so wrong?”
A pang of pity shot through Priscilla as she observed the weeping woman on the floor. She’d never wanted to be a mother herself, but she’d seen the devastation that the absence of children had on other people. It made them desperate. Sometimes desperate enough to do terrible things.
“He tried to convince you to foster a vampire child, didn’t he?” Priscilla asked quietly.
Once they’d correctly identified the werewolf, it hadn’t taken Priscilla long to understand what Holly’s motives had been. Even during their brief conversation, Holly’s desire to have a child had been palpable. Putting that together with what Garrett had told her about their recent preparation to become parents, and the fact that Aaron had recently found an easier route to adoption, she could only come to one conclusion.
The adoption system was screwed up. It wasn’t as easy as it should have been for parents who wanted children to get them. It was harder than ever these days. The government had incentives in place in order to making vampire adoptions easier and cheaper than regular adoptions. It helped get rid of their vampire child problem and allowed them to say that they were making strides towards improving the system, when very little work had actually been done.
It hadn’t taken long for them to look into the records and find out that Aaron had been interested in adopting a sixteen-year old boy named Dean.
It made sense that Aaron Burke, cheated at every turn by his unscrupulous boss, would find the option of adopting a vampire child appealing. Priscilla could only assume it also appealed to the part of him that enjoyed Fangs, Fur, and Fury to bring a vampire into his home.
Of course, he hadn’t anticipated the reaction of his werewolf wife.
Holly pushed to her feet, trembling with rage. “He started the paperwork to adopt a sixteen-year-old boy!” she nearly shouted. “He knew I wanted a baby! And he just ignored that. When I said older, I meant one or two years old. Not a monster that’s been hanging around like a damned parasite for the last hundred years!”
“You shouldn’t have killed him for it,” Arthur said.
“He wouldn’t listen!” Her face contorted in sudden fury. “He wouldn’t send it back. He was going to bring that thing into my house. Do you know what vampires did to me? They killed my entire pack in the 1969. A group of rogue vampires strolled right into the commune and slaughtered every last one of my family. I only survived it because I chose to run, instead of fight. And he wanted to bring a killer into my home!”
“Hands behind your head,” Arthur said coolly. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Aaron Burke.”
Suddenly, Holly’s back hunched and her bones began to twist and pop. She let out another deranged laugh. “Too late, Sharp. You’ll never catch me.”
Holly darted forward, too fast for Arthur to track. The dart he let off lodged itself into the floor where she’d been. Priscilla lunged after her, catching her ankle. She jabbed the syringe full of wolfsbane into Holly’s heel. The woman howled in pain and tried to kick Priscilla in the face.
Priscilla couldn’t hold onto the wildly thrashing werewolf for long. She tossed the syringe away when she’d emptied it, sure that it wasn’t the only one in the building. Holly kicked hard again, and this time she hit Priscilla right in the temple. Her grip slackened and the woman wriggled free.
“What does she think she’s doing?” Priscilla asked, staring wide-eyed after the rapidly shifting form of Holly Burke. As they watched, she dropped to all fours and began to lope in the direction of town. “There are people that way. She’ll be spotted!”
“I don’t think she cares. She’s doing the same thing that every animal does when it’s cornered,” Arthur said grimly. “She’s lashing out. We need to catch her before she reaches town.”
“Or what?”
“Or we’re going to have a lot more blood on our hands.”
Priscilla got to her feet, trying to ignore the momentary dizziness that came from the blow she’d suffered. It would pass soon enough. She broke into a dead sprint, running as fast as she could after the retreating wolf.
“Where are you going?” Arthur shouted after her.
Priscilla didn’t have time to respond. She ran still faster, trying to work herself up to full speed, a whopping twenty-eight miles an hour. It wasn’t enough to catch a werewolf immediately. But there were only a few people who lived in town who were strong enough to hold up the wolf for long. Maddison Baker, Diane Webb, and herself. And she was the only one who knew Holly was coming. So she was going to catch Holly Burke. She had to.
Lives were at stake.
Chapter Sixteen
Arthur kept pace with her in the car. He could have sped ahead and hit the wolf broadside. But it would have defeated the whole purpose of the exercise. They needed to bring Holly Burke in alive so she could serve time for her husband’s murder. Performing a hit and run was counterintuitive, and Priscilla wasn’t even sure if it would work. Werewolves could be tough customers.
“Get in!” he shouted. “We’ll go faster this way!”
Priscilla couldn’t respond. She was pouring all her energy into chasing after Holly Burke, who was fully wolf now. They were rapidly approaching the town’s borders. Soon they’d be within striking distance of any number of homes.
“At least get on,” he shouted in frustration. It took her a moment to realize what he meant, and then another few seconds to make a decision. Arthur was right. She could go faster if she was in his police cruiser. But since they didn’t have time to slow down …
Priscilla bounded the few feet between her and Arthur’s car. Then, in a move that made her feel like some sort of stuntwoman in a Hollywood movie, she leapt several feet into the air, using her strength to push off the ground, hard, and landed on top of the cruiser.
The impact dented the metal, which she was sure she’d get flak for later. For now, they had a wolf to catch. She held herself in place using the lightbar on top of the cruiser and squinted past the red and blue light to make out their target in the dar
kness.
Arthur put on a burst of speed as soon as she was secured and began closing the distance between themselves and Holly. The latter was forced to keep running, lest she get hit. It kept her from darting toward any of the homes they were passing.
“She’s headed for the square,” Priscilla said, feeling fairly confident in her gut instinct.
“How do you know?”
“She’s going down and will want to bring down as many vampires as she can. Maddison is cleaning and opening up the shop tonight.”
She’d asked the young vampire to help her out, now that the shop was almost ready for a grand re-opening. Of course, Priscilla hadn’t planned for the crazed werewolf bent on revenge when she’d asked. Arthur muttered a curse.
When they reached the square, Priscilla leapt off the top of the car and had to roll to keep herself from breaking anything. Holly snarled, turning to face her in the middle of the street. Priscilla bared her teeth.
“You want to kill a vampire?” she asked. “Try me.”
Holly lunged forward, the movement too quick. Priscilla had grown so used to dealing with humans that she’d forgotten how fast other creatures could be. Holly hit her in the stomach and sent them both sliding toward the sidewalk that bordered the courthouse, set in the middle of the square.
The cobblestone streets were annoying at the best of times. They were hard to drive on, suffered damage during the winter, and were an all-around nuisance. Now the force of their momentum and their combined weight made the stones feel like a cheese grater against Priscilla’s skin. She smelled blood and knew it must be her own. The stinging on every inch of exposed skin meant she’d probably just gotten a wicked case of road rash in the short seconds Holly had been on top of her. Then her head slammed into the concrete curb, and she saw stars.
Priscilla could only raise her hands to protect her face and throat as Holly shifted her weight, getting to her feet. She didn’t have long before the wolf got her bearings and tried to rip her throat out.
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