Authors: Winter Pennington
"That's my line," I said as I unfastened my seat belt. I unbuckled my black leather belt and slipped it through the holster. The Pro .40 fit perfectly. "Thanks, by the way."
"You're welcome."
There were a few moments of silence before he said, "Have you figured out where I live yet?"
"Crud, I totally forgot about the bet."
"How could you forget about the bet?" he asked with a look of disbelief.
"I've had a lot going on the past few days."
He nodded. "Start from the beginning," he said. "Tell me about the crime scene the police called you in on, and what we're going up against. Then get to the rest."
I told him what I'd seen at the crime scene and what I'd told the police. I explained what had happened with Rosalin Walker and the case she'd brought to me. Rupert kept his eyes intently on the road, but I knew he was listening to every single word I spoke.
*
There was a small area at the edge of the woods where Rupert was able to safely navigate and park the van between two large trees. There were tire marks on the ground where cars before us had parked in the same spot. No doubt the tracks were left behind by people who had been doing something more nefarious than what we were about.
Rupert unbuckled his seat belt and began checking his weapons.
"I can never figure out how you manage to hide that much firepower," I said, watching him.
"Practice," he said, and then asked, "Do you have a map?"
"No, there wasn't a map available. It's the boonies," I said, adding, "literally."
"So what's the plan?" He pulled a gun out from under the seat. It had a scope on it. "Night vision," he said as if it explained everything.
"I don't need it," I said. "We need to stay close together. We need to mask our scents, in case the werewolf is still out here." I handed him the bottle of patchouli oil. I could tell he wasn't wearing cologne, as I had requested. Perfume and cologne will give your presence away really fast around a bunch of lycanthropes. When you're doing surveillance work, the obvious goal is to remain hidden while gathering information.
He dabbed the oil on lightly.
"I want to get a feel for the area, see if there are any other clues the cops missed." I stepped out of the car and shut the door quietly.
"Aren't you afraid of getting lost?" he asked.
I shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair before securing it in a long ponytail. "No.
There's a horse farm a few miles away. In a place like this there are going to be trails. Are you ready?"
The look in his eyes was cold as he smiled darkly. "What do you think?"
"Great," I said, "try and keep up." I smiled wickedly before throwing myself into the woods. I had to force myself to keep to a pace that Rupert could keep up with. There was a certain temptation at the pit of my stomach, in the depths of my mind, to just let go and run like the wind couldn't touch me.
The smell of the wild called to me, called to the wolf within. The breeze whispered through high branches, louder in my ears than it should've been. Despite an inability to perceive color in the dark, my night vision is excellent. The woods stretched out before me like some beautiful black-and-white photograph.
I heard the soft
thud-thud-thud
of Rupert's footfalls. I could tell by the sounds of his breath that he was struggling to keep up, but because he was in shape and because I wasn't running as fast as I could, he managed.
I opened myself to the earth, and the scent of pine filled my nostrils. The woods have their own perfume. It was a scent so natural that it felt as if I could wrap myself in it. I could hear the soft hooting of a night bird. Crickets played their sweet music. I turned my head, hearing their song like a small orchestra. A brown rabbit bolted across the path in front of us. It stopped and sniffed the air. Beady eyes met mine and I could taste its heartbeat on my tongue. The rabbit darted into the thicket and I had to force myself not to chase after it. It wasn't that the wolf thought it would make a nice snack-it was more that the wolf thought it sounded like a jolly good time, chasing rabbits.
That's not why we're her
e, I reminded myself, swerving around a tree and following a fainter path. It looked like it hadn't been traveled in years.
The murmuring of voices caught my attention and I stopped, listening.
I couldn't make out any words.
"Get down," I whispered, but the voice that came out of my mouth was deeper than usual. Rupert knelt beside me. About ten feet before us was a swell of bushes. I lowered myself to the ground and crawled to them, sniffing the air as I went. Rupert sat on his heels to my left.
"What is it?"
"Voices." I inhaled deeply. "Wolves." I placed my hand flat on the ground and felt the echoing of footsteps. It wasn't one, but many. I tried to find a hole in the bushes to see through, but ended up putting my hand into the bush to move a branch. I moved it slowly, then guided the branch back into place.
"It's a clearing."
I picked up a handful of dirt and decaying leaves and rubbed them all over my body.
Rupert followed, scooping up a handful of dirt and covering his clothes with it.
I whispered, "Stay here. I need to get where I can see. I don't think they'll smell us on the ground." I hoped he knew what I meant. We'd covered ourselves with the earth, but as we did we left our traces on it. If someone was trying to track us, they'd find our scents there. I crawled in a crouch away from the bush. There was another set of bushes off to Rupert's right. I sank lower to the ground and quietly made my way to them. I peered around the bushes.
Great, a werewolf fiesta.
I frowned as I counted thirty-some weres in the clearing. Two were holding torches, standing beside what looked like heavy rocks piled up to make a basic throne. A woman with golden blond hair sat on that throne, decked in a white pantsuit with black pinstripes. Another woman knelt a few feet away.
What the hell was this? Werewolf mobsters are us? I frowned, thinking. Movement caught my attention, and a man with short-cropped brown hair strode up through the middle of the clearing.
He wore a pair of baggy blue jeans and a faded black T-shirt. Judging by his attire, he wasn't mobster status. Yet, neither were the rest of the wolves, once I looked. In fact, it was the woman on the throne who stood out, drawing attention to herself like she was making some kind of statement with her bold attire. Then again, she was sitting on a throne. That in and of itself made a pretty loud statement.
As the male in blue jeans passed the kneeling woman, torchlight spilled across her features. Her dark hair came alive with bright red highlights.
Rosalin Walker. Shit. Shit. Shit.
I lowered myself and crawled to Rupert. "Van. Now," I said.
He had been peeking through the bushes, and slowly eased a branch back into place. I shook my head and offered a hand. "No time to crawl. Now."
He took my hand and this time I pulled him along for the ride. I opened myself again without holding back. I trusted that his feet would keep up with mine as long as I held on to him. The trees parted before me, easing me through, yielding to my presence. I darted between them like a shadow. I came to an abrupt halt as soon as I spotted the van.
Rupert's brakes didn't seem to be working. He skidded across the dirt and fell on his ass with a heavy thud. "I can't run like you do!" he hissed, getting to his feet. "You're going to throw me into a fucking coronary!"
"Rosalin Walker was one of the wolves in the clearing," I said.
His eyes went cold. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know," I said as he stood and brushed himself off. It was kind of useless considering we were covered in small twigs and bits of leaves. "Obviously it's her pack, but what else?" I shook my head. "I need to find out."
Was it suspicious that a strange wolf had sought my investigative services? It wasn't too suspicious for me. What was suspicious was the fact that the same wolf and her pack met in the woods near the crime scene the police had called me in on.
Rupert unlocked the car doors manually, and my respect for him grew just a little bit more at the small gesture. He was smart enough not to unlock them with the keypad, which would send nice bright headlights blinking through our corner of the woods. Then again, he'd started his career as something similar to a government assassin. He had to be smart.
It isn't unusual for Rupert and me to sit in silence. Our silence now, though, had more to do with us trying to work out different scenarios than not wanting to chitchat.
"What's the plan?" he asked finally. "This is your hunt."
"Well, we could follow her, but in order to do that we've got to figure out where she'll be. There's got to be someone driving a car."
"Do you think we should try and figure out where they parked?"
"That would be a start." I leaned back in my seat. "How are we going to do that without getting spotted ourselves?"
Rupert leaned over and reached toward me. I startled and backed up as much as the seat would allow. He laughed. "Chill out, I just need to get something out from under your seat. I'm not trying to grope at you or anything."
I nodded, still cautious and caught off guard. "Instincts," I explained. "You're reaching into my territory. Warn me next time, or you might get hit." I settled back down.
"Is it that bad with you guys?"
I moved out of the way so he could reach under the seat. "It can be. Usually, I can control it, but if you catch me off guard I can't guarantee which response you're going to get."
"Flight or fight?" he asked as half of his arm disappeared beneath the chair.
"Yes," I said, watching him curiously. "You better not tell me there's a bomb under there."
"Nope." He grunted and retrieved the item at last. "They're better than the scope," he said, handing me binoculars. They were heavy in my hands.
"I don't carry bombs around," he said. "There are grenades in a bag under one of the back seats, though."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
He looked out the window. "Do you think you could track them by yourself without being seen?"
I tapped the edge of the binoculars on my thigh. "Most likely. Why? What are you thinking?"
"I could drive down the road and find some cover to park under. You could go track them and find Rosalin's car. That way, you don't have to worry about me not being able to keep up."
It didn't sound like that bad a plan, but there was one problem. "What happens if I spot the car and it takes me twenty minutes to get back to you, let alone find you if shit hits the fan?"
If he hadn't been wearing the oil, I could have found him if something happened. Since he was, it would make it more difficult for me to track him.
"I could wedge the van deeper into the woods?"
I looked at the trees so closely knit together. "You'll scratch the van up and make too much noise."
He pointed at the corner of the windshield.
"I could park it between those trees right there."
There was a break in the trees that I hadn't noticed. It wasn't much of a break, but it would be enough to hide a small car. The problem was, we weren't in a small car, but if Rupert was confident that he could do it, I wouldn't doubt him. He'd taught me a lot in the past several years and I respected the fact that he had a lot more experience than I did. Granted, my trust in anyone's judgment only goes so far.
I grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. I turned to tell Rupert to wait in the car when I saw the headlights at the far end of the road. I ducked down in my seat. "Shit, duck!"
Rupert ducked. "What?"
"There," I said, lifting the binoculars to my eyes as soon as the light passed. I had good eyesight, but lycanthropy didn't grant me a bird's-eye view. The binoculars helped, even if they did cast a sick green glow. I instinctively aimed them at the driver's side mirror. If I was going to see who was driving, that was where I needed to look. Unless they didn't adjust their mirrors. If that was the case, I was screwed.
The face of the driver was familiar. It was the man that had been wearing the baggy jeans in the clearing.
I checked the passenger's side, and Rosalin's profile came into view.
I waited until I saw the car, a Cavalier, slow for the stop sign ahead. "Start the van, and follow them."
"And if we get spotted?" he asked but started the van and put it in reverse.
"Then we do what we do best."
"Which would be?"
"Confrontation."
Rupert's version of a mad scientist's laugh filled the van.
It was so horrible-I couldn't help it.
I laughed. It wasn't until my vision went blurry with tears that I wiped my eyes and shook my head.
Rupert followed about four car lengths behind the Cavalier. It wasn't until he'd sped up and navigated the van onto the highway that he flipped on the lights. We were three cars behind the one we were following. Rupert got into the far left lane. From there we were able to keep an eye on the car cruising down the middle lane. There wasn't too much traffic on a Tuesday night, but there was enough to provide cover.
I looked around the seat I was sitting in. "Surely," I said, breaking the long, tense silence,"you've got some CDs in here to listen to?"
Rupert spared a glance at me. "Check the glove compartment or on your side of the door."
I opened the glove compartment and my fingers curled around something long and square shaped. Curious, I withdrew it from the glove box. There was a little button on it. I pressed the button and jumped as a spark of electricity zapped from the end closest to my body.
"Shit," I said.
"Leave it alone, Kass."
"Right." I put the thing back where it belonged. I don't like electricity-at least not on my body.
Arthur had once given me a flashlight at a crime scene. The incident taught me not to take flashlights from him, or anything that could potentially backfire on me. When I'd turned the flashlight on, it'd shocked the hell out of me, leaving currents of electricity tingling up and down my arm for five minutes afterward. Sensational? Yes. Did it feel good? No.