Etched in Bone

CHAPTER 18

Sunsday, Messis 21

Jimmy waited until the lunch crowd thinned out before he meandered over to the Market Square. Wouldn’t do to run into Mama or CJ. Wouldn’t do to run into any of the bitches who spied on other people for the freaks. But three of them were sitting at one of those umbrella tables, eating salads like that crap was real food. He recognized the two women living in the apartments with the cops—Ruth and Merri-something—but he didn’t recognize the third one, a black-haired girl who was wearing a big gauzy shirt despite the heat.

She looked vaguely familiar, like he’d seen her in passing. Didn’t matter. Couldn’t be much of anything interesting about her if she was hanging around with the other two.

He wanted to take a look at what had arrived at the butcher shop that morning, needed to tell his crew what they could expect. He resented having to buy fresh meat. Sandee would cook it to the point of being inedible—the bitch could mess up spreading peanut butter and jelly on bread—but he needed a reason to be there instead of buying prepared food at Meat-n-Greens or A Little Bite.

Going into the butcher shop, he confirmed there was no bell on the door to be making noise that might carry late at night. Nothing fancy about the lock either. Shit, even Clarence could pick that lock inside a minute.

He waited near the door, but the shopkeeper seemed intent on talking to one of the male bloodsuckers who were squatting in the apartment above his.

“Delivery of special meat will be arriving tonight,” the shopkeeper said. “Rarely get it anymore. That’s why I’m not posting a sign, just passing the word.”

“How much is being delivered?” the vampire asked.

“Not sure. That’s why I can’t guarantee you’ll get a particular cut, but I’m making a list of anyone who is interested in receiving a bit.”

The vampire glanced at Jimmy, then turned away but didn’t lower his voice quite enough. “You going to let the humans reserve some of the special meat?”

The shopkeeper laughed quietly. “Nah. I’m not going to mention it to any of them. If there is any left over after I fill our orders, I’ll sell it to the humans, but it isn’t likely there will be anything left.”

The vampire nodded. “Put us down for a piece. Don’t want to miss out on a delicacy.”

Jimmy barely contained his excitement as the vampire walked out, leaving him alone with the shopkeeper. Special meat. Delicacy. Hot damn, they’d picked the perfect night to empty the butcher shop.

“Afternoon.” He gave the shopkeeper a big smile. “I was hoping to buy some meat for the family’s dinner.”

The shopkeeper waved at the glass counter. “What I’ve got is here. If you want a quick meal, I’ve got slices of cooked meatloaf with gravy today. Was made fresh this morning. By a human.”

On any other day, he would have tried to buy a whole meatloaf, figuring to sell or trade half of it. But he didn’t want the freaks looking at him too hard today—and he didn’t want them whining to CJ or that bastard Burke about him taking more than could be eaten at one meal.

“I’ll take three slices,” he said. When the shopkeeper raised eyebrows that had more brown feathers than hair, he added, “The kids won’t be able to eat more than half a slice each, not when they’ll be having their vegetables too.”

Three slices went into one of those containers customers were expected to wash and bring back. Jimmy made the purchase and walked out. He kept his pace leisurely, even waved to the three bitches who were finishing up their meals.

Sandee was out when he got back to the apartment, and the brats were out too, so he heated one slice of meatloaf, then another half for his own meal. Having put the rest in the refrigerator, he spent the afternoon sitting on the porch waiting for nightfall.

Meg hung up her gauzy shirt in the back room of the Liaison’s Office, then went into the bathroom to splash some water on her face, brush her teeth, and pee. Euphemisms, she had learned, were wasted on Wolves. As soon as Nathan returned from his own midday break, he would sniff around the back room and be able to report exactly what she’d done, so what was the point of saying anything else? She’d tried the whole “I’m going to powder my nose” thing once, but every Wolf she knew had come around trying to sniff her face to be able to identify the scent of this powder.

Even with Merri Lee’s and Ruth’s help, she couldn’t convince the Wolves there was no powder until Simon confirmed that, in some stories, “powder the nose” meant peeing. Then Katherine Debany ruined it later that afternoon by taking out a compact and actually powdering her nose within Elliot’s sight. Naturally, Elliot informed Blair and Nathan—and Simon—and the whole “let me smell your face” routine started all over again.

She found Nathan in the front room, already stretched out on the Wolf bed. He yawned at her, showing off all his teeth. She wasn’t fooled. He only looked lazy and half-asleep. Any deliveryman who believed the ruse and acted inappropriately discovered how fast a Wolf could move—and just how much damage those teeth could do.

“Merri Lee, Ruth, and I had an excellent lunch,” she told him. “It was a salad made from fresh greens and garden vegetables with the last chunks of leftover turkey and hard-boiled egg, along with a variety of mini muffins we bought from Nadine. What about you? Did you have a good lunch?”

Nathan made a hopping motion with one paw.

“Fresh bunny,” she translated. “Yum.” Then remembering that he might misinterpret that as a request, she added, “Yum for you.”

Returning to the sorting room, she considered what to do with her afternoon until it was time to make her deliveries. The mail was already sorted and out with the ponies; her packages were organized on a cart so that she could load—and unload—the BOW efficiently as she made her rounds. She already had the library books she was delivering to the girls at the lake.

Meg blew out a breath. She could write a note to Jean or Hope or Barb Debany, or even to Jesse Walker in Prairie Gold. She could read one of the books she’d taken out of the library. Normally the thought of doing those things gave her pleasure, but now she felt restless, uneasy. Not prickling, not the pins-and-needles feeling that warned of something about to happen. It was more subtle than that, but it made her a little queasy.

Taking her box of prophecy cards out of the drawer, she opened the box and rested her fingertips lightly on the cards. But she didn’t have a question, didn’t even have a clue what to ask. She’d told Nathan about her lunch, he told her about his, and . . .

Sharp prickles filled her fingertips. She closed her eyes and chose the cards that produced the sharpest prickles. With her eyes still closed, she turned the cards over in the order she chose them.

She opened her eyes, studied the cards . . . and called Merri Lee.

“Can you duck out for a couple of minutes? It’s important.”

“I have a customer,” Merri Lee replied. “Let me finish with him, and then I’ll run over.”

A few minutes later, they were both staring at the three cards on the sorting table.

“So, what was the question?” Merri Lee finally asked.

“I’m not sure. When I choose three cards, it’s subject, action, and result.”

“All three of these are food cards. Okay, one shows a table full of breads, dairy products, and bowls of fruit; one shows a feast with cooked meats and vegetables; and one shows animals that are considered food.” Merri Lee frowned. “Are you still feeling the prickles?”

Meg shook her head. “But something is going to happen that concerns food.”

“Doesn’t look like it’s about a lack of food.”

Frustrated, Meg blew out a breath.

“Do you have PMS cravings? Maybe that’s why you’re fixated on food. I tend to want chocolate, pizza, and salty snacks. Of course, then I drink a lot of water—and retain a lot of water—and get bloated, which makes me crabby.” Merri Lee gave her an expectant look.

She considered that and shook her head. “I guess it’s nothing important, but I’ll tell Simon about it anyway. It might make sense to him.”

She told Simon about it when they got home from work, and she could see that it made sense to him. What worried her was the look in his amber eyes—and the fact that he wouldn’t tell her what it meant. And for the first time, he snarled at her when she pushed for an explanation. Told her it wasn’t any of her business.

That worried her too.

What worried her the most was waking up sometime in the night and realizing Simon was gone.

Everything went like clockwork. The four men parked in the lot adjacent to the Stag and Hare, then crossed Main Street to the delivery entrance of the Courtyard. From there, they went up the access way and into the Market Square, keeping close to the shops instead of dashing across the big open area in the middle.

They slipped inside the butcher shop, found the walk-in refrigerator, and stared for a moment, transfixed by the quantity of meat—trays of prime cuts of beef, as well as roasts and steaks. Other trays held chops, hams, sausages, bacon, and slabs of ribs.

They’d each brought a big rectangular backpack lined with straw around thick plastic. The late-night heat wasn’t much better than the daytime temperature; it wouldn’t do to have the meat start going bad before they had a chance to get it into their own freezers or sell most of the best cuts for profit.

Jimmy Montgomery was a blustering, arrogant prick who thought he was hot shit just because he’d lived in Toland, as if picking a lock there required more skill than it did here in Lakeside. He’d walked into the bar, bought himself a drink, and sat down at their table, as if he’d been invited. Started talking about needing a crew for an easy job—one he guaranteed would put food on the table. Illegal? Of course not. Human law didn’t apply in the Courtyard, so how could anything done there be illegal?

No guards, no sentries around the business district after the shops closed. Yeah, being out at night might be tricky, but if you picked the right time, even the cops wouldn’t be doing much patrolling, preferring to stick close to their stations unless they were called out.

He’d scoped out the shops, knew exactly where the butcher shop was located, had told them about the lock and lack of a bell on the door. Had confirmed the delivery of meat from one of the earth native farms. Even his reason for not going in with them made sense. Of course, his “commission” would reflect the chances he wasn’t taking tonight. Not that they’d encountered any problems.

They filled their packs with the best cuts of meat, leaving the sausages and bacon, along with the roasts and hams they couldn’t fit in their packs. They hadn’t found the special meat Jimmy had said would be there, but that didn’t matter. They had everything they’d come for and more.

Yes, everything had gone just like clockwork. Right up until the moment when they left the butcher shop and found the vampires and Wolves waiting for them.

Heart pounding, Monty scrambled out of bed, yanked open the drawer in the bedside table, and removed his recently acquired backup weapon, holster and all. Then he quietly moved to the screen door that opened onto the porch and stopped to listen.

He’d heard something that his training had responded to before he was fully awake. A brief scream, high-pitched and terrified. Now . . . nothing.

He unlocked the screen door and stepped onto the porch.

So quiet. Most people were following the police recommendation about being home before midnight, so there were no cars on the roads at this time of night—except official vehicles. But it wasn’t a siren he’d heard.

In that quiet, Monty heard another door open. Bracing his free hand on the railing, he leaned forward and looked up at the second-story porch of the house next door.

Kowalski, dressed in nothing but pajama bottoms. Something about the way he stood told Monty his partner had also grabbed a weapon in response to . . . what?

Another door opening, farther down. He couldn’t see, but Monty knew it was Debany. So. They’d all heard something.

Monty whistled, a soft sound, but it was enough to have Kowalski turn in his direction. Then the younger man disappeared. A minute later, he reappeared, ghosting across the front yards until he reached Monty’s porch.

“Yeah,” Kowalski said quietly into the mobile phone. “Yeah. I’ll let you know.”

“You heard it?” Monty kept his voice low to avoid waking Lizzy, whose open bedroom window was at the other end of the porch.

Kowalski nodded. “So did Michael.” He looked around. “No lights coming on in any of the houses down the street, and nothing stirring across the street. Whatever it was didn’t alarm the Courtyard’s sentries.”

Going to the end of the porch, Monty saw two Owls perched on rooftops that gave them a good view of the Courtyard’s businesses.

“Could have been a rabbit,” Kowalski said. “They do scream when they’re killed.”

Rabbits weren’t the only things that screamed.

“Michael and I could go over and take a look around.”

“No. None of us should go poking around the Courtyard at this time of night.” Monty’s heart still pounded. It was tempting to go across the hall and bang on the door until Jimmy answered, surly at being woken so abruptly.

If Jimmy answered.

“No,” he said again. “We weren’t called to assist. Just keep your eyes open tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir. Good night.”

Kowalski didn’t go inside his own home. He went over to the apartment building on the other side of the double to talk to Debany. A couple of minutes later, he went home.

Doors closed. Everything was so quiet.

Monty went inside and tucked his backup piece in the drawer, where it would remain, close at hand, until he got up and locked it in the gun safe with his service weapon. He stretched out on his bed, but he didn’t sleep. Didn’t mean to anyway. But at some point he slipped into an uneasy doze, dreading what he’d have to face in the morning.