Secret of the Wolf (4 page)

“Or?”

Scott’s eyebrows climbed, furrowing his brow. “They support it.”

Dante straightened out of his slouch. “I…No, I don’t like to think they’d do that, sir.”

“Well, who knows about them, right? They have their own agenda.” Scott shook his head. “I’d like to think they wouldn’t try to cover something up, but…”

“How many attacks have there been?” Dante asked. He’d have to remember to ask Tori what she knew about these attacks. Surely she’d been talking with the werewolf liaison of that quadrant. She might have more information than the council was releasing to its human counterparts.

“There was one each on Sunday and Monday, then again one on Thursday and one on Friday.” Scott lifted a hand and scratched his head. “Four goddamned victims with just enough forensic evidence to get us nowhere. So far we’ve managed to keep a lid on it, but it’s only a matter of time before it gets out.”

“Shouldn’t we warn people?”

“And tell them what? ‘Be on the lookout for a rogue werewolf’?” He shook his head. “It won’t do us any good to have people panicking. We’d be right back to the days before the Preternatural Protection Act was enacted. Sons murdering their fathers, neighbors at each other’s throats…” He swiveled his chair to look out the window. “Just keep your ear to the ground and let me know what you hear about these werewolf incidents.”

Dante knew a dismissal when he heard one. “Will do.” He pushed to his feet and left the captain’s office. Once at his desk, he booted up his computer and sat back in his chair. He had his report typed up within fifteen minutes. He printed it off and added it to his folder of pending reports, intending to file it with the clerk later.

His cell buzzed. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and glanced at the display. It was one of the Special Case detectives from District Four. Dante pressed the phone icon on the touch screen and put the device to his ear. “Hey, Manny,” he greeted.

“Dante,” Manuel Rivera responded. “I hear you had some werewolf trouble this morning.”

“Good news travels fast.” Dante put one hand on the back of his neck and rubbed the tense muscles there.

“Yeah. In some ways Scottsdale’s still a small town. So?” The other detective’s voice held hope.

Dante felt for the guy. Four werewolf attacks in a little under a week meant he was under the gun to produce results. Having the suspect handed to him would be a godsend. “I didn’t talk to the guy, Manny. Sorry.” Dante heard Rivera’s sigh and added, “But I can check with our werewolf liaison and see what she thinks.” He’d have to get over this lust thing he had going on for Tori. He had to keep things strictly professional between them so he could keep his emotional balance. For the time being, at least.

“Hey, man, I’d appreciate that. We got nothing so far. No hair. Or fur as the case may be,” Manny added, his voice deeper with sarcasm that quickly turned to frustration. “No fiber, no usable DNA, no nothing.”

Dante frowned. “If he’s biting people, how the hell can you not have DNA from his saliva?”

“Bastard washes the wounds with bleach. Whatever DNA’s still present gets degraded, and subsequent tests are inconclusive.” Rivera muttered a long string of expletives in Spanish, then said, “He’s a clever mutt, I’ll give him that.”

“How are the victims connected?” Dante remembered the case he’d first met Tori on, where a group of vampires killed other vamps. At first, there had seemed to be no affiliation other than the obvious, but then deeper connections had surfaced.

“None that we can tell. First one is a twentysomething med student, the second one is a bricklayer, third one’s a stay at home mom, and this last one…” He sighed. “He’s a councilman from ward six.”

Dante let out a low whistle. There’d be hell to pay on that one. And a local council seat to fill. Prets weren’t allowed to serve in human governments at any level.
Equal but separate
was the motto of the day. “Well, I can see where a wolf might have thought he could use the councilman, but, still…He had to know as well as anyone else that the man would lose his seat.”

“You’d think so.” Manny sighed again. “Thanks anyway,
amigo
. Keep the faith,” he said with his usual farewell.

“You, too.” Dante ended the call. He slid his phone back into his jacket pocket and pondered what Rivera had said. At first blush it seemed the attacks by the werewolf were random. Maybe it was a pret who’d snapped and couldn’t keep his fangs to himself. Maybe it went deeper than that. At the very least, Tori would have an idea if their guy from this morning’s attack was involved. He pulled out his phone again and speed-dialed her.

“Hello.” Her dulcet tones pulsed through him all the way to his toes, pausing to dance along his cock for much longer than was appropriate at work.

“It’s Dante.” His throat closed up. He cleared it and tried again. “Ah, it’s Dante.”

“What’s up?” The rhythm of her voice didn’t change, so he had no idea what her mood was. She seemed glad to hear from him, but considering the schizoid way he’d acted at the crime scene, he couldn’t be sure.

“I just got a call from Rivera in District Four. He asked me about our guy from this morning. He’s wondering if maybe he’s the same one who’s attacking people up north.”

“I don’t think so.”

Dante heard voices in the background, then some snarling. What the hell? “Where are you?” he asked.

“At council headquarters, waiting my turn to file my report.” She lowered her voice. “They’re not too happy with the liaison from the north quadrant. They expect instant results and it’s impossible in this case without viable forensic evidence. I feel sorry for him.”

“So…he’s the one who’s snarling?”

“No, the snarlers are a couple of werecats being fined for drunken and disorderly conduct. They’re not too happy, either.”

Dante shook his head. If he lived to be ninety, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to this new world he lived in. It was like being in a never-ending episode of
The Twilight Zone
. “So, about our guy this morning,” he said, putting the conversation back on track. “Rivera tells me any DNA that’s at the scene is too degraded for testing.”

“I really don’t think Barry is responsible for the attacks in District Four. He said he wasn’t, and I believe him. He may be dumb, but he’s not stupid. He attacked the man this morning unintentionally. The attacks in District Four are full of intention. And foresight, obviously, if the suspect is doing something to degrade his DNA.” She sighed. “They’re calling for me. Look, I’ll talk to the other liaison.” Voices filtered over the line, people walking close by her, and her voice went husky as she lowered it. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Okay. See ya later.” Dante disconnected the call and sat back in his chair. God, that voice of hers touched places in him he hadn’t known existed. He knew things with Tori could get complicated fast. She was a pret, a werewolf. He couldn’t ignore the fact that she could break his neck with the flick of a wrist. He supposed it would make having sex with her very interesting. All things considered, it might be worth the risk.

It was just…the timing sucked. He had to keep things platonic between them. At least for now, when his attention was needed elsewhere. Maybe down the line he could learn to follow his feelings.

Only today was not that day.

T
ori slipped her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and started toward the big double doors of the main chamber where the council members waited. She couldn’t go in and face three of the most powerful preternaturals in the region with fantasies of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy floating around in her head and playing havoc with her libido. She drew a deep breath and blew it out, trying to clear her mind of everything Dante. As she passed the liaison coming from the room, she murmured, “Ash, I need to talk to you. Can you hang around for a while?”

His normally blue eyes held flecks of amber. “Why the hell not? It’s not like I’m actually doing a job or anything.”

She scowled. She wasn’t going to take any crap from him. From anyone. “Don’t take your ass-chewing out on me.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced. “Sorry. Sure.” When he looked at her again, his eyes were their usual hue. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Come get me when you’re done.” He glanced inside the chamber. “Hopefully, they’ve gotten their nasty mood out of their system.”

Tori watched him walk away. Her phone buzzed, and she dug it out to find an e-mail from the hospital. Opening the attached report, she read that they had indeed verified that the victim from this morning was bitten by a werewolf and not a vampire. She heaved a sigh. Poor Barry.

Her name was called again, this time with impatience, and she shoved her phone back into her pocket as she went into the cavernous room to report her initial findings. She gave a slight bow to signify her deference to them. “
Ati me peta babka?
” she asked in the common language from the other dimension.
How may I serve?

The bright center light, recessed in the ceiling, clearly lit the front of the auditorium-sized room. She looked at the three men sitting in ornate, high-backed chairs on the other side of the long mahogany table. Deoul Arias, president of the council, was a high elf who’d come through the rift over five thousand years ago. There were only two other preternaturals in the region who were older than him, one a vampire and one a demon. But not just any demon.
The
demon. Lucifer. He was the oldest of them all, as far as anyone knew, and he had tremendous power and influence because of it.

And Deoul couldn’t stand it, which meant it rather pleased Tori. She’d use any excuse she could to stick it to the snooty elf.

Sitting next to the president was Caladh MacLoch, a seal shapeshifter and frankly her favorite council member. She and Caladh had met in 1903 and soon thereafter developed a friendship that started as an apprenticeship of sorts, leaving her with a deep affection for the man who had helped make this world a little less lonely.

Next to him was the newest member of the council, vampire Tobias Caine. He had been appointed to his seat as a replacement for the former vampire councilor who’d been killed. His murder was still officially unsolved, though Tori suspected it had something to do with the rift device she had secreted away at her house. Tobias hadn’t told her where he’d gotten it or how he’d come by it, but she didn’t believe in coincidence, especially where murder was concerned.

She gave him a smile of greeting. His gray eyes held welcome and a hint of suppressed humor. He probably could tell from the look on her face that she thought this greeting ritual was a bunch of crap. It was a stupid formality put in place to make the council members feel important. Not that she would ever say that out loud. She knew when to hold her tongue and toe the party line. If a little kowtowing was called for, she could bow and scrape with the best of them.

“Tori,” Caladh said, his dark eyes shining with pleasure. “It is agreeable to see you.”

“And you.” Tori bit the inside of her cheek against a grin. Caladh had such a formal way of speaking, he always sounded like a Vulcan to her. “My lord Arias,” she greeted the president. She met Tobias’s gaze and inclined her head. “Tobias.”

“What news do you bring us?” Deoul asked.

“I’ve just received confirmation from the hospital that our human victim this morning was bitten by a werewolf, not a vamp.” She stood next to one of the folding wooden chairs that were there allegedly for liaisons to sit on while they made their reports, but she had never sat in the presence of the council, nor had any liaison she knew. She tried to put a positive spin on things by saying, “The great news is that Barry didn’t release any preternatural essence into the wound, so the vic won’t turn.”

“That is your wolf’s only saving grace.” Deoul glanced at the other two council members and then turned his pale gaze upon Tori once more. “Our laws are clear on this. The werewolf will be chained in silver, restricting his ability to shift, for one full cycle of the moon.”

Tori swallowed. To change into their animal form was as natural a thing to a shapeshifter as breathing. To be unable to shift at the full moon would be a torture she wasn’t sure Barry’s mind would be able to endure. “May I plead mercy?” She looked at all three councilors. “Barry didn’t attack the human on purpose. He was provoked—”

“Only with words, as I understand it from Aldis Knox. We expect better control from the members of our community.” Caladh sat forward and clasped his hands on top of the table. “We have been able to maintain calm among the human population only tenuously, especially as the next Influx draws near. If Barry were allowed to go unpunished…” He shook his head.

“Of course he shouldn’t go unpunished,” Tori said. “That’s not what I’m suggesting. I’m asking for leniency, that’s all. Please don’t restrain him during the full moon. It would be torture.”

“A fitting punishment, I’d say.” Deoul’s face creased in a smug smile as if the thought of a werewolf in agony somehow made him happy.

Tori clenched her fists against the urge to vault over the table and wipe that smirk off his face. Or just get rid of his face, period. But no matter how close she might be to Caladh and Tobias, even they wouldn’t be able to save her if she ate the president of the council.

Tobias cleared his throat. “I agree with Tori. Binding him during the full moon is too harsh. Fit him with silver restraints for the next week, then remove them and let him shift during the full moon. Otherwise the strain—”

“He should have considered his actions first,” Caladh broke in. He shook his head. “I must side with Deoul on this matter.” He turned his gaze back to Tori. “I’m sorry, Tori, but as Deoul said, our laws are clear. Punishment would be even harsher had he turned the poor fellow.”

“But he didn’t,” Tobias pressed. “Shifting from human to animal is an agony you’re all too familiar with.” He shot a glance at Caladh. “But from what I understand,
not
shifting is even worse.”

“It is. Which would be the point.” Caladh’s gaze hardened. “On this I stand resolute. Actions have consequences. Preternaturals must be held to a high standard when it comes to our dealings with humans.” He shared a glance with Deoul. “The decision stands. Barry will be restrained for thirty days, including the night of the full moon.”

Tobias’s lips tightened. He slumped back in his chair. “I’d like my objection to be on the record,” he murmured. Looking at Tori, he said, “I’m sorry. A decision is based on majority.”

“I understand.” She uncurled her fingers and rubbed her moist palms against the outside of her thighs, before straightening her shoulders. “I’d like to be the one to tell Barry.”

Deoul shrugged. “I have no objection.” He glanced at his colleagues. “Caladh? Tobias?”

They both shook their heads.

The council president looked at Tori again. “He’s in one of the holding cells downstairs, which is where he’ll stay for the next thirty days.” His tone held warning, like he thought she’d try to break the guy out or something.

She might be tempted, but she wasn’t stupid. She didn’t want to ruin her life, or possibly put it in jeopardy because Barry was going to be shackled in silver for a crime he’d actually committed. As a liaison, part of her job in addition to investigating crimes was to uphold the law. She might not agree with it, but until someone changed it, she was duty bound.

Sometimes this job really sucked.

Tori gave a small bow and started to turn.

“Just a moment,” Tobias said. “There’s one more thing I’d like to bring up while Tori’s here.”

She frowned and turned back to face the council.

“It strikes me that having our liaisons make these face-to-face reports is a little…pretentious. Their findings can easily be sent through e-mail over a secure server.”

Why the hell did he have to involve her in this? She didn’t want to fight this particular battle.

“Pretentious?” Deoul’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “This is a time-honored tradition, Tobias. There is order in what we do.”

“Yes, yes.” Caladh waved one hand. “In this I must also agree.” His glance toward Tobias held some humor. “This appears to be an off day for you.”

“Apparently.” Tobias crossed his legs and rested one elbow on the arm of his chair. “I just feel like it’s more a matter of ego to make them come here in person and adhere to the old-fashioned greeting.”

Deoul puffed up, his eyes glittering. “Ego! This is not about ego. It’s about respect.” He leaned toward Tobias. “Do you not believe the council is worthy of respect?”

Tori watched the interaction with a horrified interest that was reminiscent of watching a train wreck. She wanted to look away but couldn’t. Apprehension crept up on her, because she knew that soon enough one of them would turn to her for her opinion.

“Of course,” Tobias responded to the most egotistical and pretentious pret among them. “But wasting our liaisons’ time by making them come to the office is hardly respectful of
them
.”

Then came the moment Tori had been dreading. Caladh looked at her and said, “You’re a liaison. What do you think of Tobias’s proposal? Do you believe we disrespect you?”

Hell, yeah
. Tori searched her mind for a tactful way to agree. “There could be more efficient uses of our time,” she finally murmured.

“I see.” Deoul began drumming his fingers on the table. “Should we discontinue these face-to-face meetings then? These in-person reports where we can gather so much more information through body language and attitude that doesn’t come across in an e-mail?”

You mean so you can try to figure out if your liaisons are trying to hide something from you
. Sneaky, slippery elf. “I merely agreed with Tobias that e-mails would be more efficient as far as time goes.” She made an effort to keep a melodious inflection in her voice. It had been known to calm the savage beast. She wasn’t sure it would do the trick on three of them. “Though I will say that the greeting I could do without.”

Deoul’s eyebrows rose, as did Caladh’s.

“It’s just…” She huffed a sigh of frustration. Damn Tobias for putting her in the middle of this. “We’re not in the other dimension anymore. Many of us have been on Earth for centuries. Some of us for millennia.” She looked at Deoul and Caladh. “Why are we holding onto a language from a place that cast us out?”

“Hear, hear,” Tobias said quietly.

Tori tried to tamp down her irritation. He really was trying to make her job easier. She should cut him some slack. She just wasn’t sure she would.

“Hmph.” Deoul folded his arms across his chest and stared at Tori. Finally he said, “We’ll take this under advisement. You may go.”

She gave a slight incline of her head, shot Tobias a dirty look, and then turned and left the chamber. She knew Barry was on pins and needles, waiting for the verdict, so she headed down to the basement first.

Stopping at the check-in desk, she removed her weapon and signed it over to the guard on duty, who stowed it in a locker and handed her the key. She passed through a metal detector and went on to where Barry was.

The cell was really a large metal cage, maybe six by eight, with a bench against the back and three rings bolted into the cement floor. Barry was on the bench, one arm between his legs, a silver handcuff around his wrist. The other handcuff at the end of the foot-long chain was attached to one of the floor rings. He looked up as she stopped in front of him. “Well?” he asked.

“Thirty days of restraint in silver.” There was no easy way to break it to him, and he was way past needing things sugarcoated.

He paled. “Even through the full moon?”

Tori nodded. “I tried for leniency, Barry. I really did.”

“I know you did.” He stared down at the floor. “I’ve never been unable to shift into the wolf at the full moon.” He looked up at her again. “The urge is inescapable, Tori. I’ll go crazy.”

“No, you won’t.” Right then she made the decision to ride this one through with him. Werewolves were social animals. To be denied the opportunity to shift and run with the pack would be untenable. She couldn’t let him go through it alone. “I’ll be right here with you. We’ll keep each other sane.”

His eyes widened. “You’d do that?”

“Yes, I would.” Tori knew Barry was a good guy. He was one of the prets who’d decided to look at his exile on Earth as a second chance—a way to atone for the lawlessness he’d practiced in the other dimension. He volunteered at a homeless shelter and worked as a nurse at one of the local hospitals. “Consider it a date.”

His lopsided grin held self-depreciation. “Usually I can show a girl a better time than being chained up in a cell.” He glanced at the handcuffs, waving his hand back and forth to give them a rattle. “Though something like this I could put to good use.”

“I’ll take your word on that.”

His lips quirked again. Then he sighed. “Really, Tori, I appreciate the offer. But I can’t let you do it. I got myself into this mess, and I’m the only one who should be punished.”

She studied him and saw fear lurking deep in his eyes, though he did a good job at trying to hide it. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” His gaze met hers. “You’re a stand-up person, Tori. Thanks.”

“No problem.” She rested one hand against the wall of the cell. “You keep your chin up, okay?”