Written in Red (37 page)

He didn’t want the Others looking at every human as a potential threat, but the possibility of a partner meant Meg wasn’t safe yet.

A thoughtful silence that held so much weight he could feel it settle on his shoulders.

“Something might have been dropped,” Simon said. “And we can pick up the scent of something even if it’s hidden in snow. If we find anything, I’ll let you know.”

Monty nodded. “I’ll have one of my officers bring in that pizza.”

“Better if it’s a face we already know.”

Another nod, and Monty walked out of the office. Kowalski fell into step with him.

“Anything?” Monty asked.

Kowalski shook his head. “First they were aware of trouble was when Simon Wolfgard sounded the alarm. After that, everyone went nuts.”

“
Nuts
meaning ‘primed for battle’?”

“That’s how I read it.”

As soon as he crossed the line that separated human land from the Courtyard, Monty stopped to assess the street. The bomb squad was gone, along with the fire truck, ambulance, and half the police cars. The intersection was still blocked, keeping traffic away from the Courtyard’s entrance.

But the arrival of the shiny black car and the man leaning against it had occurred while he’d been talking with Meg and Simon.

As he walked over to where Captain Burke waited for him, Monty spotted the officers he had sent to canvas the businesses across from the Courtyard. He stopped and waited for them. “Anything?”

“Nobody remembers anything about the vehicles that were in and out of there today,” Officer Hilborn said. “But
everyone
who had a window seat at the Stag and Hare saw the wolf man.”

Monty frowned. “Wolf man?”

“Half man, half wolf. Or a furry man with a wolf’s head. Until we all showed up, most thought it was a gimmick for a horror movie or some kind of stunt of the dumb and daredevil kind, being dressed like that and standing where the Others could see him. When they realized he was
real
, it scared the crap out of all of them.”

Those images in horror stories and movies had to come from somewhere,
Monty thought. “So, nobody saw a white van leave the Courtyard?”

Hilborn shook his head. “All they remember seeing is something a lot scarier than they thought lived in the Courtyard.”

Too much fear makes people stupid.

Monty glanced at his captain. Burke was watching the Crows watch him. The man wouldn’t stay patient for long, but there would be enough time to hear from Debany and MacDonald before he had to give his own report.

“Write up your report,” he told Hilborn.

Hilborn tipped his head to indicate his partner and the other two officers who had been canvassing businesses. “Not sure how much good it will do. Everyone agreed on something that was a wolf and a man at the same time. After that . . . Well, pick your favorite scary movie.”

“Understood.” With a nod of dismissal, Monty turned to Debany and MacDonald.

“Nobody at A Little Bite knew there was trouble until Tess locked the front door and ran out the back, leaving the Hawk as guard and Ms. Lee to deal with customers,” Debany said.

“Pretty much the same story at Howling Good Reads,” MacDonald said. “Locked door, Wolf standing guard, no explanation.” He looked at Kowalski. “Ruth was there. Apparently, humans who have been given a pass to the Market Square can be tagged as temporary employees. Or maybe she volunteered to help. That part wasn’t clear. Either way, she ended up working the cash register and having an ongoing discussion with a Crow about the necessity of giving people correct change, even if that means giving them coins that are shiny.”

After Debany and MacDonald had the pizza order and were on their way, Monty turned to Kowalski. “Take five minutes and have another look around HGR.”

“Thank you, sir.”

When he and Burke were the only ones left, Monty walked over to his captain.

“Any reason to keep the intersection blocked?” Burke asked.

“No, sir. I don’t think there will be any more trouble here today.”

“Today,” Burke said heavily. “Seems that someone is still whispering in the governor’s ear, and he’s still leaning on the mayor to find that stolen property. You think this is connected?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So do I. What have we got?”

Monty told him about the unmarked van and the suspicious behavior of the man posing as a deliveryman. Then he told him about the reports of a wolf man, and watched Burke pale.

“You’ve seen one of the Others like that?”

Burke nodded. “Early in my career, I worked in a village smack in the middle of wild country. Most of Thaisia is wild country, but we said it like that to indicate the village wasn’t close to a bigger city. The Others who live in the wild places . . . Nobody knows if they can’t shift into the human form well enough to pass for human or if they just don’t want to. But you’ll see those blends if you have to go out and visit their settlements, and they truly are the stuff of nightmares.” He blew out a breath. “You think that van and driver left the Courtyard?”

“No, sir. But I’m hoping Simon Wolfgard will feel obliged to us enough to ‘find’ the man’s wallet and hand it over.”

Burke didn’t say anything. Then he pushed away from the car and opened the door. “You’re managing to keep things smooth, Lieutenant. Good work.” He got in, started the car, and drove off.

And a handful of Crows went winging into the Courtyard to report.

Monty got into his car. While he waited for Kowalski, he took an envelope from the coat’s inside pocket. The envelope was in Elayne’s handwriting, and the pressure of pen on paper told him she had been cornered into sending it. The handmade card inside was from Lizzy, his darling girl. Hugs and kisses for her daddy.

He put the card away and closed his eyes.
Keep things smooth.
Besides all the lives at stake here in Lakeside, he had one very good reason for keeping things smooth.

With a little effort, Asia picked the lock on the apartment door and slipped inside. By the time she was done with this assignment, she would have some serious skills for her TV series. Asia Crane, Special Investigator, would be a native of Toland. . . . No. Most of the PIs currently on TV were from the East Coast’s Big City.
She
would be a specialist brought in from the Cel-Romano Alliance of Nations to uncover corporate intrigue in Thaisia, or unmask a threat to the human government, or even deal with problems between humans and the
terra indigene
. Maybe her character could have an ongoing romance with an officer on the ship that routinely traveled across the Atlantik, providing transport between Cel-Romano and Thaisia. Maybe she could have a tame Wolf as an assistant, who could sniff out information other investigators wouldn’t be able to find. Wouldn’t
that
be a kick in Simon Wolfgard’s ass?

One way or another, this assignment was going to make her a very hot property who could write her own ticket—and name her own price.

Thank the gods she’d parked on a side street when she returned to the Courtyard. She had wanted to be around when Simon Wolfgard realized Meg the feeb was missing. Instead, she’d found cop cars all over the place, the intersection blocked, and all kinds of talk about someone
trying
to do something suspicious at the Liaison’s Office. Something to do with a box or a van or . . . something.

Everyone who had a mobile phone was chattering nonsense, but it was enough to tell her that White Van had failed big-time.

The idiot not only bungled the snatch; he got caught. She wasn’t worried about him coming back here and finding her searching his apartment. Even if he managed to get out of the Courtyard, he was gone, gone,
gone.
But she had left a couple of printed notes under the van’s windshield wiper, providing information about Meg’s routine. A pro would have disposed of the notes.

A pro wouldn’t have gotten caught.

As research for her upcoming role, she’d followed White Van one night to find out where he lived. His location had been a tidbit of information for her backers and not of much interest. However, she figured it would come in handy if she needed to point the cops toward a convincing suspect. But the fool had done that himself. Worse, he’d thrown himself to the Wolves, and the gods only knew what he would tell them before they killed him.

So she was here, doing a fast search to make sure the police—or someone worse—wouldn’t find anything that would come back and bite
her.

Nothing.

She found the magazines under the mattress and rolled her eyes. But she flipped through them, hoping pages wouldn’t be stuck together, and found a slip of paper with a phone number.

Not a local number. And considering what White Van had been trying to do, that number could be lucrative.

Asia pocketed the slip of paper, put the magazines back under the mattress, and left the apartment.

Late afternoon. Debany and MacDonald had delivered the pizza, and it had eased something in Simon’s chest when Meg showed enthusiasm and appetite for the food.

Not really hurt. Not if she was eating with such obvious pleasure. No longer afraid because an intruder entered the office. And not afraid of him, not when she was willing to tease him about being too full of cookies to want pizza.

Happy Meg made him calmer.

Happy Meg was willing to share food. She even tore off the top of the pizza box, put two pieces on it, and took it outside for the Crows
.

He knew enough to insist she put the pieces behind the office instead of out front, where humans could see. Humans had already seen enough of between forms. It was better if they didn’t see Crows with little hands at the ends of their wings, pulling food apart.

While the Crows were distracted, he took his pieces of pizza and ate at the front counter, watching the street.

Merri Lee had brought new sweaters for Meg and persuaded her to see Elizabeth Bennefeld for a massage to relax. So Meg was in the Market Square, being pampered, by the time Simon finally locked up the Liaison’s Office. When he stepped out the back door, he noticed Blair leaning against the garage, waiting for him.

“Henry is very angry,” Blair said quietly. “He shifted and wants to be left alone until tomorrow.”

“Did he say anything before shifting?” Simon asked.

“Someone hired the intruder to take Meg away from us. They gave him a number to call but nothing else. He also said someone left him messages, telling him where Meg lived and when she was in the office. He didn’t know who was helping him.”

“Someone who knows where Meg lives.” She was protected in the Green Complex, but in the office? “Someone stays with her from now on. More than Crows keeping watch. More than someone upstairs who might not reach her before she’s hurt.”

Blair hesitated.

“She saw me as Wolf, and she wasn’t afraid. So there will be one of the Wolfgard in the office when she’s working.”

Blair nodded. “Boone wants to know if he should put out the sign and let everyone know we have special meat.”

Simon almost agreed. Then he thought about the police. He had let them in, and Montgomery was going to come sniffing around for a while. And he thought about Meg asking for meat for Sam, and he thought about the Ruthie shopping in the Market Square. Sooner or later, both females would see the sign and have to accept what it meant. But this time it would be too obvious where the meat came from.

“No sign,” he said. “Pass the word that there is meat available for whoever wants it. And make sure at least some of the blood is offered to Erebus.”

“That part was already done. Nyx came by and collected it.”

Yes. Erebus would want blood from the man who tried to take Meg, who
touched
Meg.

“You want us to save any meat for you?” Blair asked.

He wasn’t human. Would never be human. “I want the heart. I’ll come by for it later.”

When Meg was asleep.

CHAPTER 16

B
y the time Meg woke up the next morning, the sun was shining and the sky was a clean blue. Poking her nose out her front door convinced her that, despite the blue sky and sunshine, it was still wicked cold. Since there was nothing she had to do and nowhere she had to go, she warmed up the last piece of pizza and ate it for breakfast while she read a few more chapters of the book she’d borrowed from the Courtyard library.

The last two Earthdays in the Courtyard had been full of turmoil of one kind or another, but just by looking out her window, Meg sensed a difference. Today the Green Complex, maybe even the whole Courtyard, felt quieter.

When she got tired of reading, she dusted the furniture, swept the floors, and ran the sweeper over the carpets. By the time she took a shower and wiped down the bathroom, she was also tired of domesticity, and feeling a little uneasy about the lack of company.

Was she the only one in the complex? Was everyone else off doing something in another part of the Courtyard?

You’re safe here,
she thought.
No one is going to come this far into the Courtyard, looking for you.

Even so, by the time she’d eaten the stew Meat-n-Greens had sent home with her yesterday, she wanted to get out of the apartment, despite the cold. So she gathered up her clothes and towels, then bundled herself up for the short walk to the laundry room. Once she had the washers going, she went upstairs to the social room.

Henry looked up and smiled when she entered.

“Didn’t expect to see you up and about today,” he said.

She shifted her feet, suddenly wishing she’d stayed downstairs. “Humans aren’t
that
fragile. I was scared yesterday, and my wrist got bruised. It’s not like I fell off a cliff or something.”

He laughed, a warm sound. “You are the first human to live among us here, so there is much for us to learn.”

She came closer to the table where he was sitting. “But you have those apartments that you let people use. And you have people working for you and shopping at the Market Square.”

“We have those things,” he agreed, “but that’s not the same as living among us the way you do now.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she focused on the colored bits and pieces on the table. “A puzzle?”

“A pleasant diversion on a winter afternoon.” He gestured to the other chair. “Sit and join me if you wish.”

She sat and picked up several pieces, one after another.

“You have never put together a puzzle?” Henry asked.

Meg shook her head. “I’ve seen pictures of games, including puzzles like this, but there was no need for us to play them in order to recognize them in a vision.”

“Then it’s time for you to experience the world instead of just identifying its pieces.”

She watched him work for a minute before she began to look for connecting pieces. There was an easiness to the silence between them. In fact, they didn’t speak until she returned from the laundry room, having put the clothes and towels in the dryers.

“Are we the only ones in the complex?” she asked when she took her seat at the table.

Henry nodded. “Most are spending the day with their kin in the other complexes. The Coyote is enjoying a run.”

“And Tess?” Meg put four puzzle pieces together before picking up her thought. “I’ve seen her only in her human form.”

“None of us have seen her other form. We know she is
terra indigene.
We know how to read her warning signs. But what she is when she sheds her human skin—that is something known only to Namid.”

Deciding she’d asked enough questions, Meg worked on the puzzle with Henry until her laundry was dry. She packed up her laundry bag, bundled herself for the quick walk, and headed back to her apartment.

Halfway there, she saw the Wolf rushing toward her in the fading afternoon light.

“Sam! No!” Simon’s voice.

The pup ran past her instead of leaping on her, then turned back and tried to grab a corner of the laundry bag.

“If you rip the bag and I have to wash all these clothes again, I’ll wash you with them,” Meg warned.

His head cocked. His tail wagged. And she wondered if she had just put a very bad idea in a puppy’s head. But he wouldn’t actually try to climb into a washer. Would he?

Sam spun around and rushed toward Simon, who was standing near his own apartment door. The pup leaped up, barely giving Simon enough time to catch him before leaping down and running back to Meg.

Once she was close enough that he was bouncing between them, he began talking at her.

Smiling, she shook her head. “I don’t speak Wolf
.
”

“No shifting out here,” Simon said firmly. “It’s
cold.
”

Sam talked back at his uncle.

As a reply, Simon opened his apartment door. “Go inside, and I’ll ask her.”

Sam bounded into the apartment, sliding as his wet feet hit the bare floor. Shaking his head, Simon closed the door and looked at her.

“Everything all right today?” he asked.

“It was quiet,” she replied. “Peaceful.”

He shifted his feet and looked uncertain. In fact, he seemed reluctant to look directly at her.

“Mr. Wolfgard?”

“After Sam has his bath, we’re going to watch a movie, and he was wondering—
we
were wondering—if you would like to join us.”

Emotions were harder to define on a real face than on a labeled picture, so she wasn’t sure which message she was supposed to reply to. He had invited her to join them, but . . . “You would prefer if I found a reason to decline?”

“No.” The word was snapped out. Then he took a step back, and she heard the soft, frustrated whine.

Simon must have gone to school at some point, must have received the kind of education that enabled him to run a business and a Courtyard, but she suddenly understood what Henry meant about the difference between
dealing
with humans and having one live among them. Having one they treated as a friend.

He wanted her to come over and watch the movie, but something was making him unhappy about it.

“I spend a lot of time in this skin on the other days.” Simon thumped his chest and looked at the snow piled in the center of the complex’s courtyard. “Earthdays are the days I can be Wolf. But I want to encourage Sam to shift, and that means wearing the human skin for a while every day now.”

She took the words apart, as if they were images that would be put back together to make a prophecy—and understood. “You’d like to spend the evening in your other form.”

“Yes.”

“Well, after you make the popcorn and put the movie on, why can’t you do that?”

Now he looked at her. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Seven o’clock?”

She smiled. “I’ll see you at seven.”

She felt Simon watching her as she climbed the stairs to her apartment. She heard Sam howl. And she wondered how many residents of the Courtyard knew she was going over to her neighbor’s place to watch a movie.

Simon washed the dishes and swallowed impatience. He couldn’t wait to get out of this skin, this shape. It had a few advantages over the pure Wolf form, but it wasn’t
natural
,
and having to remain in that skin after it began to scrape on the heart and mind could push a
terra indigene
into a crazed rage.

Not all that different from what had happened out west, except the crazed rage had occurred while the Others were in animal forms.

Not something a leader who had to look human so much of the time wanted to consider might happen to him.

He shook his head, as if that would send the thoughts flying.

Meg said she was all right with him being Wolf while she watched the movie with Sam. He didn’t think she was lying.

He went upstairs and got Sam out of the bath, half listening to the grand plans the boy thought would fit into the couple of hours before bedtime. He let Sam dither over which movie to watch while he went into the kitchen and made the popcorn. Even in this form, the stuff didn’t have any particular appeal for him, but it was a traditional human treat when watching movies, so he made a big bowl of it for Meg and Sam to share.

He had just finished pouring the melted butter over the popcorn when someone knocked on the front door. Sam let out a sound that was part boy squeal and part Wolf howl as he rushed to the door and pulled it open.

The boy’s words tumbled over one another so fast, they made little sense except to convey happy excitement. Then Meg’s voice, still close to the door.

Simon cocked an ear. Why was she still close to the door? Had she changed her mind about spending time with them?

No, he realized as he heard her voice in the living room now. She had stopped to take off boots and coat. Why hadn’t she used the back door? Was front door a different message than back door?

He’d worked hard to learn the rules of doing business with humans, but there could be a whole other set of rules for personal interactions.

Frustrated now—and suspecting he was making a simple thing complicated—Simon brought the popcorn into the living room. He went back to the kitchen for two large mugs of water. Placing everything on the table in front of the sofa, he greeted Meg and retreated to the kitchen to shed the clothes and shift.

He crept toward the living room, silent and waiting. Sam and Meg put the movie disc in the player and got it started. He listened to the bits and pieces about other movies, listened to boy and woman settling down on the sofa. He waited a couple of minutes longer, then slipped into the living room.

They were tucked at one end of the sofa, the bowl of popcorn on Meg’s lap, their eyes focused on the television.

A dart behind the sofa to come around the other side.

A moment’s tension. A moment’s fear. Then Meg patted the cushion and said, “I think we left enough room for you.”

He climbed up on the sofa, filling the remaining space.

“Popcorn?” Meg asked, tipping the bowl toward him.

As an answer, he turned away from the bowl, lightly pressing his muzzle and forehead against her upper arm. More tension, but when he did nothing, she slowly relaxed and began eating the popcorn.

Simon closed his eyes. Keeping his head against her arm, he breathed in the scents that were Meg. The hair was still stinky, but not so much now, and the rest of her smelled good. Pleasing. Comforting.

After a few minutes, he nudged her arm until his head rested on her thigh. Another moment of tension. Then, making no protest, she shifted the popcorn so she wouldn’t keep bopping him with the bowl.

A few minutes after that, he felt her fingers shyly burrowing into his fur.

The first time she sucked in a breath, he almost sprang up, thinking she’d heard something outside. Then he began to understand the rhythm of her touch and Sam’s comments about the story. Dozing, he could follow the story through Meg’s fingers and breathing, only half listening to the boy’s “This is a scary part, but they’ll be all right,” and “Watch what happens now!”

Pleasure. Comfort. Contentment.

Except for the hair, she really did smell good.

Simon came fully awake when Sam said, “We can watch another one.”

“You can, maybe,” Meg replied. “But I have to work tomorrow, so it’s time for me to go home.”

“But—”

Simon said.

Simon raised his head and looked at the boy.

Sam slid off the couch. He gave Meg a shy smile and Simon a wary glance.

“I can come to work with you tomorrow,” Sam said.

“You have school tomorrow,” Meg replied, smiling. “And I’m not going to agree to something without talking to your uncle first. So good night, Sam.”

He poked out his lower lip, as if trying to see what kind of reaction he would get. When Meg and Simon both stared at him, he sighed, said good night, and went upstairs.

Meg set the bowl on the table, then looked at her hand. “Guess I should have gotten some napkins at some point.”

He stretched his neck and swiped a tongue over her palm. When she didn’t pull away, he took another lick, and kept licking until he cleaned the salt and butter off her skin.

She smelled good. She tasted even better.

“That’s good. Thanks,” she said. She picked up the bowl and mugs, pushed to her feet, and walked out of the room.

Getting off the sofa, he yawned and stretched, then followed her into the kitchen.

“I’m not sure if popcorn goes in with the compost or in the incinerator bag,” Meg said. “So I’ll leave that for you.”

Retracing her steps, she put on her coat and boots.

It was hard not to crowd her, hard not to jump, hard not to invite her to play. But it was almost time to sleep, and he didn’t want Meg to get riled up or worried about being around a big Wolf
.
He could go for walks with her and Sam if she wasn’t afraid of the Wolf
.

He went out with her and walked her up to her own door. He waited until she was inside, then took a thorough sniff around her porch before going down and checking the rest of the complex.

As he reached the road, Allison hooted a greeting and glided past him on her way home. Lights were on in Vlad’s apartment, which meant the vampire had returned from his evening in the Chambers.

No unfamiliar scents. No sign of danger.

For tonight anyway, they were all safe.

Satisfied, Simon trotted back to his apartment and the boy who was waiting for a story.

“Hello?”

“The messenger you hired to retrieve your property got careless. The Wolves got him before the police did.”

“Who is this?”

“Someone who has a better chance of helping you reacquire your property—for the right fee.”

“How did you get this number?”

“Like I said, your messenger was careless.” A pause. “And I thought it might be inconvenient if the police found this number when they searched the man’s apartment.”

“There are several messengers looking for my property. Which one got careless?”