Murder of Crows (18 page)
“I’ll have a word with the patrol captain in the university district,” Burke said.
“It’s not just Lakeside,” Ferryman said. “We’ve heard rumblings about trouble brewing in Talulah Falls. A couple of demonstrations near the Courtyard there, some speeches at the colleges.” He paused, then added, “And we had an incident a few nights ago. It’s a big reason why we decided to adjust the village budget to hire an official police officer.”
“What happened?” Roger asked, looking pale.
“A boat landed on the north end of the island, where most of the Simple Life folks have their farms. Someone tried to set fire to a barn.”
“Tried?” Simon said.
“We had a sudden downpour that lasted a couple of hours. The rain put out the fire before the farmer could report it. About the same time the rain started, a heavy fog covered the river. You couldn’t have seen your own hand out on the water.”
Ah,
Simon thought.
Water must have been riding Fog that night.
Not even the rest of the
terra indigene
knew how the Elementals divided the world into territories or even how many of them there were. But he was fairly certain that the Elementals who touched Great Island and Talulah Falls were the ladies who lived in the Lakeside Courtyard.
“Did the police have any luck finding the person responsible?” Burke asked.
Ferryman gave the captain an odd smile. “Thick fog and a fast river leading right to the falls. The morning after the fire, a broken boat and two bodies were pulled from the river.”
“Were the bodies drained of blood?” Vlad asked. “I know the Sanguinati who live on the island have been interested in the shore for the past few days. Such interest usually means an incursion of humans who might cause trouble for the island’s residents.”
Ferryman shrugged. “Those men went over the falls. If they were dead when they went over, the Sanguinati did them a favor.”
“Anything else?” Simon asked. When his only answer was several headshakes, he stood.
“Come up to the village whenever you’re ready and we’ll get you settled in,” Ferryman told Roger.
“Mr. Wolfgard,” Montgomery said. “If I could have a minute?”
“A minute,” Simon agreed.
“I’ll wait outside,” Ferryman said.
“Why don’t I give our guests a quick tour of the Market Square?” Vlad said.
When everyone else left the room, Simon studied Montgomery. Not sick, but the dark skin didn’t look as healthy as usual.
“Something wrong with you?” Simon asked.
Montgomery smiled. “Too many sleepless nights lately.”
A Wolf would curl up and take a nap, but humans were rarely as sensible.
“I understand a few of your human employees have left recently,” Montgomery said.
“Most, actually. Why?”
“Officer MacDonald’s cousin is looking for work. She has secretarial and business skills that might be useful to Dr. Lorenzo, if he hasn’t already hired someone for the office here.”
“Why would she want to work in the Courtyard?”
Montgomery looked uncomfortable. “Theral got out of an abusive relationship a few months ago. She’s had two jobs since then and was fired from both of them because her ex-partner showed up at her place of work, making threats and causing trouble. She moved back to Lakeside because she has family here. When Officer MacDonald mentioned that Theral was looking for work, I offered to broach the subject with you, in case you were looking for new employees. If you’re interested, she can call and make an appointment for an interview.”
Simon scratched behind one ear to give himself a moment to figure out what Montgomery was really trying to tell him. “You think this man will follow her to Lakeside and cause trouble?”
“I hope not.”
“But you want us to eat him if he does show up?”
“No, no, nothing like that.”
Despite the words, Simon didn’t think Montgomery would be too upset if he had to fill out a DLU form for this male who threatened a member of MacDonald’s family. “I’ll talk to the other members of the Business Association.”
“Thank you.”
He walked out with Montgomery and wished that Ferryman, who was standing near the back of the Liaison’s Office, would make some lame excuse about needing to get home and not having time to meet Meg.
They didn’t speak until the police drove away, Henry went back to his studio, and Vlad and Tess went back to their stores. Then Ferryman studied him for a moment. “When you walked into the meeting, I had a feeling that you really didn’t want me in your Courtyard. But it’s not the whole Courtyard, is it? It’s this office.”
Simon didn’t answer.
“Do you want me to make an excuse and leave?”
“No.” That’s exactly what he wanted, but he couldn’t figure out how to explain Ferryman’s departure to Meg. Besides, it was possible Ferryman could help her.
“Do all
terra indigene
react this way to a
cassandra sangue?”
Steve asked.
Simon just opened the back door and walked in. Hearing Nathan’s growl, he hurried into the sorting room with Ferryman on his heels.
“Give it back,” Meg said, pulling on one end of a catalog as hard as she could while Nathan pulled on the other end. “Give … it … back!”
“Stop,” Simon said.
Meg looked over and saw the two men. Blushing, she released the catalog, which Nathan then dropped on the floor.
“Problem?” Simon asked.
“I’ve been trying to get some orders filled. Stores have the merchandise until they find out I’m placing the order for the Courtyard, and then suddenly they’re out of stock!”
“That’s a government problem, not yours. Make a list of the stores who are refusing to make deliveries and give it to Elliot. And include that pet store and Hot Crust on that list.”
“Why should Elliot have to deal with this?”
“Because there are penalties for refusing to make deliveries to the Courtyard, and it’s the government’s responsibility to enforce the agreements made between the humans and us.”
“There are penalties?” Meg said. “Good!”
See?
Simon thought, slanting a look at Ferryman.
She’s not a sweet, fluffy bunny. There’s a streak of Wolf in her.
“Meg, this is Steve Ferryman, the mayor of Ferryman’s Landing. And this is Meg Corbyn.”
Ferryman reached out to shake her hand, and it was only Simon’s concern that he might miss and nip one of Meg’s fingers that kept him from biting Steve.
They barely touched hands before they both pulled back. To his credit, Steve looked concerned when Meg started scratching at her arm. But he looked at the box on the sorting table and said, “What are these?”
“Dog cookies,” Meg said at the same time Simon said, “Wolf cookies.”
“One of the items that are suddenly not available to Courtyard residents,” Meg said with a bitterness that surprised and worried Simon—especially when her fingers dug into her arm. If she scratched any harder, even the sweater wouldn’t protect her skin.
Steve picked up the box and shook out a cookie. After examining it, he said, “Do they have to be exactly like this?”
Meg stopped scratching. “Like what?”
Steve held up a cookie. “Like this. We’re always looking for ways to help our Great Island community prosper and make sure everyone has work, whether it’s Intuit or Simple Life or
terra indigene.
I can think of a few women who might be interested in developing a similar kind of cookie.”
“Fresh-baked cookies for Wolves?”
“Why not?”
Simon stepped away from Ferryman. Meg looked too interested in the man, and it was getting harder to remember that Steve wasn’t edible.
“I’d like you to look at something,” Meg said. She led them into the front room and pointed at the Wolf bed.
After glancing at Simon for permission, Steve crouched beside the bed and examined it. “Do you have a spare one I could take back with me?”
“I think there are a couple left in the general store,” Simon replied. “You can have one.”
“Thanks.” Steve rose and smiled at Meg. Then the smile faded. “When an Intuit gets a feeling, there’s always some physical sign—a fluttering in the belly or a particular group of muscles getting tight. But it’s so much harder for you, isn’t it?”
Simon moved closer to Meg, a protective stance.
“Do you know a blood prophet?” Meg asked. “Is there a girl on the island?”
Steve shook his head. “We couldn’t figure out how to help her in time to save her.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” Steve looked uncomfortable. “I’d better be going.”
“I’ll take you over to the general store,” Simon said.
“Thanks for your help, Mr. Ferryman,” Meg said.
“Steve. No need to be so formal.”
She smiled—and Simon swallowed a snarl.
He and Steve walked to the Market Square in silence. In fact, Ferryman didn’t say anything until they picked up the Wolf bed and packed it into the back of his car. Then he turned to Simon.
“While I would like to have Ms. Corbyn as a friend, I’m not chasing after your girl, Mr. Wolfgard.”
“She’s not mine.” Since Meg made an excellent squeaky toy, why wouldn’t Ferryman want to chase her when it was so much fun?
Steve smiled. “She’s the Courtyard’s Liaison and you’re the Courtyard’s leader. In a way, that makes her yours.”
He tipped his head to acknowledge that point—and realized that Steve wouldn’t come sniffing around Meg. Simon wasn’t an Intuit or a blood prophet, but he had good instincts. “You want ties to Lakeside. That’s why you’re looking for a way to make the cookies and the beds. What are the
terra indigene
on Great Island going to say about that?”
“Something is going wrong in Talulah Falls. We feel it; so do the
terra indigene
who live on the island. Ming Beargard has tried to talk to the Others who are in charge of the Talulah Falls Courtyard, but they won’t talk to him because they think the island’s earth natives are too friendly with humans. Ming was told the Others are supposed to receive goods made by humans, not
help
the humans with the work. I don’t think that was always their attitude, but the current rulers of the Talulah Falls Courtyard want as little interaction with humans as possible.”
“So Ming wants a bond with the Lakeside Courtyard too?”
Steve nodded. “We used to sell some of our specialty items at shops in Talulah Falls—things the tourists visiting the Falls love taking home with them. When our team of sales representatives drove up to the Falls to talk with the shops and write up orders for the summer tourist season,
none
of those businesses would place an order with us, and a few of them muttered that they wouldn’t buy anything from anyone who put humans last. Our team felt a hostility whenever a
terra indigene
and a human came within sight of each other.” He paused, as if considering his words carefully. “When things go wrong in Talulah Falls—and I think it’s a matter of when and not if—the
terra indigene
who rule the Courtyard there aren’t going to talk to the police or give the government a chance to fix things. So, if possible, I would rather do business with you.”
Simon wasn’t sure he would be any more merciful if too much trouble stirred up the
terra indigene
in Lakeside, but at least, for now, he could take advantage of a business deal that would benefit both sides.
By the time Ferryman drove off, Meg had closed the Liaison’s Office for her midday break and gone out to lunch with Heather and Merri Lee. He would have growled about Meg leaving the Courtyard with two females who didn’t have a fang between them, but when he walked into Howling Good Reads, John informed him that the girls had gone to the Saucy Plate for lunch, and Henry and Vlad had gone to Hot Crust to pick up pizzas. Since the two places were in the same plaza, the girls would be guarded. And even if the humans at Hot Crust gave Meg a hard time about delivering to the Courtyard, no one but a fool denied food to a Grizzly.
Plenty to think about. Too much to think about and not a lot he could do about any of it right now.
But there was one thing he could do. Picking up the phone, Simon called Dr. Lorenzo to tell him about Officer MacDonald’s cousin.
T
oward the end of Viridus, the Crows from the Talulah Falls Courtyard flew to the part of town where most of the tourists walked and ate and bought souvenirs at the kiosks. For three days, they watched humans toss sparkly toys into the trash cans—toys that were only a little broken in ways that, for Crows, did not diminish their appeal. They watched humans throw away half a hamburger still in the thin paper wrapping so it wasn’t soiled by other debris. They watched little treasures being dropped into the cans—and they watched while city workers emptied the cans and took away that food and those treasures.
And there were bits of shiny nearby, coins that had fallen from pockets and caught the sun, a glittering lure.
For three days, the Crows resisted doing more than keeping watch. But on the fourth day, a few of the adolescent Crows dared to come down from the trees to grab a shiny or snatch a morsel of food or fly off with one of the sparkly toys.
And nothing happened. The humans, who were entranced by the water thundering into the river below, barely noticed them. So on the fifth day, more of the Crows flew down from the trees to snatch a morsel of food or make off with a shiny coin or a little treasure. On the sixth day, even more Crows gathered around the cans, enjoying the hunt for discarded items that sparkled.
On the seventh day, the trash cans that had the choicest morsels of food and the best little treasures exploded, killing Crows and tourists alike.
That night, one of the Sanguinati who had been hunting for the humans responsible for murdering the Crows didn’t return to the Talulah Falls Courtyard.
And early the following morning, in Lakeside, Meg Corbyn woke up screaming.
“Meg!” Standing in their common back hallway, Simon pounded on Meg’s kitchen door, then paused to pull on the jeans he’d grabbed when he heard her scream. “Meg!” He snarled at the door when it didn’t open, when he didn’t hear anything.
Jamming his hand in the jeans’ pocket, he pulled out the keys to Meg’s apartment and turned the lock—and still couldn’t get in.
Why did she have to use that slide lock as well as the regular lock? It wasn’t like anyone used the kitchen door for visiting. Except him. And Sam when the pup was with him. The common outside door was locked, and he checked it every night before turning in, so she didn’t have to worry about an intruder coming in through the back way. He knew she didn’t have company, since she’d quietly told him she wanted to sleep alone tonight.
“And that’s the last time I listen to you about who sleeps where,” he grumbled as he pounded on the door again. “Damn it, Meg. What are you doing that you don’t want me to know about?”
The answer to that had him scratching at the door before he remembered he was in human form.
“Meg!”
Fur suddenly covered Simon’s shoulders and chest as he threw his weight against the door, breaking the wood and the slide lock. He rushed toward Meg’s bedroom, but the fresh scent of blood pulled him toward the bathroom. He shoved at the door and Meg cried out, so he squeezed through the narrow opening to avoid ramming her legs again.
She was on the floor, bleeding. The cut ran all the way across her torso just under her breasts. Too long a cut. Too deep a cut. Too much blood.
“Meg.” Barely enough room to straddle her legs when he dropped to his knees to reach her.
“Simon,” she gasped. “You have to listen.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
His friend was bleeding. It didn’t matter that she was human. His friend Meg was bleeding too much.
He lowered his head, then paused.
It would make him so angry. Like the last time when she fell in the creek and cut her chin and he had to get her to the human bodywalker.
I don’t care. She’s one of us now. Clean the wound. Get rid of the blood scent and hide the fact that she’s vulnerable.
He quickly licked the blood flowing from the cut. Licked and licked to keep it from dripping on the towel Meg had put on the floor to soak it up.
“Simon,” Meg moaned. “Simon. I see … It’s too much. I have to speak. You have to listen.”
For a moment he’d been very angry, and now he wasn’t. He heard Meg’s voice and something changed and he wasn’t angry at all.
Lick, lick.
She always tasted good. But this was
wonderful.
Lick, lick.
He liked the sound of her voice. Even when she was yelling at him. Which she wasn’t doing now. She was …
The scent of arousal, as alluring as the scent of blood.
He sat back on his heels to bring his face closer to this new, delightful scent. His human body responded with pleasure, responded with a willingness that was hard to ignore.
“Simon.”
Something not pleasing in her voice now. Something … that should bother him.
“You have to remember,” she pleaded.
Remember? Yes. Lick, lick. The wonderful taste of Meg. But no biting. No tearing the flesh because … Why? It would feel so good to taste flesh. So very good. But not Meg’s flesh. He wouldn’t hurt Meg. Would never hurt Meg.
Something he was supposed to remember. Something about Meg talking when there was a cut and blood.
“Have to write it down,” he mumbled.
“Yes,” she said. “Hurry.”
He tried to get up, tried to leave the bathroom and fetch paper and pencil to write down … words! Write down words. She smelled
so
good. Tasted even better. Even her hair, still all weird shades of orange and red, didn’t stink anymore from whatever she had done to it.
Words. Important to write down Meg’s words.
Using the sink for support, Simon struggled to his feet. Maybe his feet. Couldn’t feel his feet. Did he still have feet?
“Write,” he growled. He should be angry. Why wasn’t he angry? Wasn’t sick, but wasn’t well either.
Fear surged through him, clearing his head for a moment.
A basket on the counter full of little brushes and pots of color. Female toys. He grabbed a pencil and wrote the words that poured out of her now.
Something wrong with him. Something very wrong. But he wrote the words until her voice stopped. Then he dropped the pencil and slid to the floor.
“Meg?” He licked at the blood still flowing from her wound and whined. “Meg?”
Her eyes were glazed. When she tried to raise her hand and touch him, she couldn’t do it.
“Your ears are furry,” she said.
They needed help. He … needed … help.
Meg bleeding. Had to do something about Meg bleeding. Im … por … tant.
Simon stretched out on top of Meg, his face pressed into her sweet belly, where he could breathe in all those delicious scents.
Familiar scents and sounds, but nothing that said
Meg
to him.
Meg smelled good. Tasted even better.
“I think he’s finally coming around.” That voice belonged to Blair, the Courtyard’s primary enforcer.
Why did hearing Blair’s voice make him feel afraid?
“Simon?” That was Vlad, sounding angry. Why angry? Did Vlad also lick …?
“Meg!” Simon tried to move, to sit up, but his body seemed tangled and nothing worked quite right.
Until Vlad grabbed his arms and hauled him up enough so that all he could see was the fury in the Sanguinati’s dark eyes.
“What. Did. You. Do?” Vlad snarled.
Do? He … remembered.
“Meg was bleeding,” Simon said. His voice didn’t sound right. His jaw didn’t move the right way for human speech. What …?
Tess stepped into view next to Vlad. The hair that framed her face was black, black, black, but the rest was the red of anger. And all of it coiled and moved in a way that was mesmerizing—and terrifying.
“We know about Meg,” she said. “We’re asking about
you
.”
To avoid her eyes and Vlad’s, he looked at his surroundings. The living room in his apartment. How did he get there? Then he looked at his naked body—and the jolt of what he saw cleared the rest of the fuzziness from his mind.
One leg was human, the other was a Wolf’s hind leg starting from midthigh all the way down to the foot. As he processed the scents in the room and realized how many Others were looking at him, his tail curled protectively over his human genitalia. Fur on most of his torso. Hands that weren’t quite hands. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what his head and face looked like.
Between
was a form that wasn’t Wolf and wasn’t human. Many of the
terra indigene
who lived in the wild country could take the rough shape of a human but could never pass for human, could never achieve a form that wasn’t somewhat between. The Wolfman in horror stories. The Others who lived in a Courtyard made an effort not to take a
between
form around humans, but they all shifted pieces when they needed some aspect of their other form. Like ears that could hear better. Or claws and fangs. There was a symmetry to that kind of shifting, even when it was more instinct than deliberate choice. But this? This was a body out of control.
He looked up at Blair, who watched him with sympathy laced with anger.
Then Henry stepped up beside Blair. There wasn’t any sympathy in the Grizzly’s eyes, but there was plenty of anger.
Surrounded by Sanguinati, Wolf, Grizzly, and Tess.
Have to choose a form.
He wanted to shift to full Wolf and curl up somewhere until he had time to think it through, sort it out. But he was the Courtyard’s leader, and the leader couldn’t hide.
It took effort to shift all the way to human, and that surprised him. It felt like he’d tumbled into something sticky, something that slowed his reflexes and hampered his ability to shift.
So hard not to show fear. Impossible not to feel fear.
He must have shifted sufficiently to human because Vlad released him and Tess tossed a blanket in his lap.
“Where is Meg?” Simon asked. He needed water. He wanted food. More than either of those things, he wanted answers.
“Meg is staying at my place,” Henry said. “She’s been there since this morning. Nathan, Jester, and Jake are with her now, watching movies.”
“This morning?” He couldn’t see the windows—too many bodies in his way—but the light wasn’t much different from when he’d broken Meg’s kitchen door.
“Sun’s down,” Henry said. “I found you and Meg in her bathroom this morning. Do you remember that?”
“Don’t remember you coming in, but I asked you …” Simon struggled to remember. “Meg, bleeding. Long cut. Too deep. Too much blood. Words. Had to write the words.”
“When Henry found you, he called Blair and me,” Vlad said. “We hauled you out of the bathroom so Henry could deal with Meg.” He bent over so his eyes were on a level with Simon’s. “You were awake. For hours you were awake, but you didn’t care. About
anything.
We could have cut off your hands and feet, and you wouldn’t have done a thing to stop us.
Couldn’t
have done a thing to stop us. We could have carved you into pieces or cut you until you bled out, and you would have done nothing but watch us. The drug that laced the food the humans had used as bait for the Crows got into the Courtyard, got into
you.
We need to know how that happened.”
He kept his eyes on Vlad’s. “It’s not Meg’s fault. I thought it would make me angry, like the last time. I thought it would make me stronger so I could help her.”
Vlad studied him. “What isn’t Meg’s fault?”
“The Sanguinati don’t drink the sweet blood of the
cassandra sangue.
Not because of the prophecies that swim in their blood. Erebus was wrong about that. It’s because the blood prophets are Namid’s creation, both wondrous and terrible.”
Vlad straightened up and took a step back. “What are you talking about?”
“The drug. It’s the blood of the
cassandra sangue.”
“Which drug?” Henry asked. “There are two of them affecting
terra indigene
and humans.”
Simon swallowed. He really wanted some water. “Both of them.”
Turning into the Bird Park Plaza’s lot, Captain Burke glanced at Monty. “You hear anything more from Dr. Lorenzo about Meg Corbyn’s condition?”
“No, sir. Nothing since this morning.” Monty had already reported his conversation with Dominic Lorenzo. Meg Corbyn had an atypical cut—too long and too deep—but there was no indication it wasn’t self-inflicted. After closing up the wound, Lorenzo’s recommendation had been rest and plenty of iron-rich foods to help replenish the blood that Meg had lost. “He’s planning to look in on Ms. Corbyn tomorrow morning after his shift at the hospital.”
Burke made a sound between a grunt and a growl as he pulled into a parking space. “Then let’s take care of
this
problem.”
Monty got out of the black sedan, relieved that the drive to the plaza from the Chestnut Street station was a short one. Burke was a big man, and being stuck with him in a small space when his blue eyes were lit with controlled fury wasn’t pleasant.
Of course, there was good reason for Burke’s fury. As information trickled in from Talulah Falls, the Lakeside government and police force began to realize they were looking at a situation that could sweep away more than one human town if everyone wasn’t very, very careful.
The town of Talulah Falls was the powder keg. It was no longer a question of
if
the humans would lose another piece of Thaisia; it was a question of how much they were going to lose.
The residents and tourists trapped in the Falls could be just the beginning of what was lost.
And that was the reason Captain Douglas Burke and Lieutenant Crispin James Montgomery were standing in the plaza’s parking lot at sundown, waiting as patrol car after patrol car found a parking spot and the officers got out to meet them.
Burke must have summoned every officer under his command,
Monty thought. Then he spotted Louis Gresh and wondered if the commander of the bomb squad had been summoned or if Gresh understood something about Burke’s meeting with the station’s chief that afternoon and decided to bring his squad to this gathering.
