Wild Country

CHAPTER 25

Thaisday, Messis 23

Responding to the frantic knocking on the front door and Rusty’s equally frantic barking, Jana dropped her toast and rushed through the house. Anyone knocking on her door at that hour of the morning and in that way wasn’t outside to tell her something good.

She grabbed Rusty’s collar with one hand as she turned the locks and opened the door with the other.

“You have to come,” Kenneth said. The burly schoolteacher looked ready to faint. “Maddie cut herself and we don’t know what to do. She’s . . . We don’t know.”

“Is Evan home?” she asked, then snapped, “Quiet, Rusty.”

“He’s dealing with the other children,” Kenneth replied. “They . . .”

They want to lick the blood. Michael Debany had hurriedly told her a few things about dealing with blood prophets if she should cross paths with one, and one of those things was that the Others should not consume cassandra sangue blood because it produced a reaction in the terra indigene.

“Go home and help Evan,” she said. “Do not let the other children lick Maddie’s wound or any of the blood.”

“Wounds.” Kenneth sounded devastated. “More than one.”

Gods. “I’ll be over in a minute. You go now.”

Yelling for Barb, Jana dragged a now-whimpering Rusty back to her crate and stuffed the puppy inside. Not a kind thing to do, but she could feel the seconds ticking and knew something was very wrong if a girl as young as Maddie had suddenly made multiple cuts.

“What’s the matter?” Barb asked. “Why are you being mean to the puppy?”

“Maddie cut herself.”

Barb gasped.

“Grab a pen and paper. You have to help me.”

“Me? Why me? Where are Evan and Kenneth?”

“They have to keep the other kids away from Maddie. Come on, Barb.”

Jana ran out the door, trusting that Barb would follow. She stopped outside Maddie’s house, cupped her hands around her mouth, and yelled, “Virgil!” Then she yanked open the screen door and stepped inside.

Maddie knelt in the middle of the living room, smacking her bloody hands on a sheet of drawing paper and making a strangled sound as if she wanted to scream but couldn’t even get that much out. Kenneth held on to Zane, and Evan had a tight hold on Mace, who kept snarling and saying, “Let me lick it. I wanna lick it.”

No sign of Charlee, but Jana didn’t ask about her. If the young Hawk wasn’t in the room, she wasn’t an immediate problem.

Jana dropped to her knees in front of Maddie at the same moment the screen door opened. As Barb dropped down beside her, looking white with dread but holding a pen and pad of paper, Jana closed her hands over Maddie’s wrists. “Speak, prophet, and we will listen.”

Maddie suddenly stilled and stared at her with terrifyingly empty eyes that turned dreamy as the girl began to speak. “Puddle, puddle, red red red. Grandma hair walk her dog. Big water. Bumpy dark.” The girl sighed and slumped forward.

Jana lowered Maddie to the floor, then looked at the two men and the boys. “You boys go to your room and stay there, or I’ll arrest you.”

“You can’t—” Mace’s protest was silenced by the savage snarl that came from the other side of the screen door.

Virgil bared his teeth as he focused on the boys. But Jana saw him quivering and took a moment to admire the strength of will that kept him on that side of the door instead of tearing through it to reach the girl with the bloody hands.

“Boys,” Evan said firmly. “Go with Dad Kenneth.”

Zane and Mace allowed Kenneth to herd them to their bedroom, but Mace, the young Wolf, kept looking back as if to be sure Virgil was still there to reinforce the order.

“Get some water and a cloth to clean up her hands,” Jana told Evan. “We’ll take the papers that have blood on them.”

“And do what with them?” Barb whispered.

“Burn them.” As far as she could tell, the drawing paper didn’t hold anything that would help them—not a picture or any other kind of clue. “Evan, do you know what Maddie was looking at just before this happened?”

Evan shook his head as he began cleaning Maddie’s hands. “We were making breakfast. The children were out here. We didn’t know there was anything wrong until Charlee ran into the kitchen and told us that Maddie had cut herself. I don’t know what she used, what was in the room that could . . .” He glanced around the room. “That issue of Nature! wasn’t on the floor before, and I don’t know where that picture book came from.”

“I’ll take them with me and see if I can figure out what she was trying to tell us.” Jana rose and gathered up the magazine and picture book.

“Should we take her to the doctor?” Evan asked. “The cuts aren’t deep, but there are several of them on each hand.”

Jana hesitated. She wasn’t an expert. Who was when it came to the cassandra sangue? But she was the human part of the law here. “I’ll ask one of the doctors to make a house call. I think the fewer people who see Maddie today, the better.” She hesitated. “You need to discover what she used to make the cuts before the other children find it. Or ask Kane to sniff around the room and find it.” Virgil was right here and could do the sniffing, but she needed the sheriff and that had to be a priority.

Evan nodded, but she wasn’t sure he’d heard her or understood what she’d said.

She left the house, almost smacking Virgil with the screen door in her haste to get home and finish dressing for work. She crossed the street with the Wolf trotting at her side. “You need to contact Tolya, tell him we need to meet. It’s urgent. Kane should go over to Maddie’s house and see if he can find what she used to cut herself. If it has any blood on it, it has to be kept away from the other children.” She thought for a moment, then added, “John should come to the meeting, since he used to live in Lakeside.” He was the one individual she knew had had direct contact with a blood prophet and might be able to give them more information about what they should do now.

Puddle, puddle, red red red.

Grass stained with blood where dogs had died the other day. She remembered it so easily, the ground soaking up the moisture.

Puddle, puddle, red red red.

How much blood would have to saturate the ground before it began to puddle?

She bolted up the short walk to her front door. “Call them, Virgil!”

Setting the magazine and picture book on the coffee table, she rushed to her room to retrieve her service weapon. Rushed back to the living room and fumbled with the latch on Rusty’s crate.

“Sorry, girl. Sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. No, you didn’t. Come on, now. We have to go. You can have a treat when we get to the office, okay?”

She was heading out just as Barb returned and handed her the paper with the cryptic clues. “Close up the house when you go, okay?”

Barb nodded. “Did you shut off the coffee?”

Jana shook her head. When she reached her vehicle, John was waiting for her and Kane was limping toward Maddie’s house. She didn’t see Virgil, but he might be running toward the town square and would get there before she did.

As soon as she got Rusty settled in the cargo area, she flung herself behind the wheel, hit the lights and siren, and stepped on the gas.

“Hey!” John grumbled.

Jana growled.

It didn’t occur to her until they reached the office that nobody who could wear fur made a sound for the rest of the drive.

The howling vehicle pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office.

“Nothing subtle about her this morning, is there?” Tolya asked, watching as Jana hustled the puppy out of the cargo area.

“Wolverine,” Virgil growled softly. “Snapping orders as if . . .”

As if she were dominant, Tolya thought, finishing the sentence. “And you didn’t correct her?”

Virgil’s bared teeth were his only answer as he opened the office door.

John Wolfgard hurried into the office, then took up a position in the doorway that led to the back rooms, as if he wanted quick access to a number of rooms that had doors he could barricade against the human female.

Did this signal a temporary change in the pack hierarchy or something more serious that would require careful consideration by all the terra indigene running the town?

Rusty bolted for her crate. Safe ground. The pup’s fear of the person she usually trusted said a great deal about Jana’s state of mind—and explained Virgil’s wariness.

Jana dropped a book and a magazine on her desk, gave the puppy a treat, and finally looked at all of them. She blew out a breath and said, “Maddie cut herself this morning. Cut her hands, multiple times.” She held out a piece of paper to Tolya. “Virgil heard what she said. Barb wrote down the words. The children were looking at this book and magazine when everything . . . started. We need to figure out what Maddie saw that set her off, for her sake . . . and, I think, for ours.”

Still wary of the female pack member, John came over to stand next to Tolya and read the words.

“Let me see the book,” Virgil said, holding out a hand. He could have taken it from the desk, but he waited for Jana to hand it to him. A reassertion of dominance or prudence because none of them were certain of her right now?

“I can look at the magazine,” John offered.

“It’s time to ask Evan and Kenneth how long Maddie has been with them,” Tolya said, watching Jana. “Time to ascertain if she had any formal training before becoming part of their family.”

She nodded. “We need information from them—and we need to know everything we can about the cassandra sangue.” She looked at John. “You had experience living around a blood prophet.”

“Jackson and Grace will know more,” Virgil said as he turned the pages of the picture book. “They’re raising the Hope pup and have experience with her cutting.”

“I dealt with Meg when she came into the bookstore,” John said. “Not when she . . .” He made a slicing motion across one forearm.

“There is a human female in this book,” Virgil said. “The pups call her Grandma and she is walking a dog.” He held up the book so they could all see the picture.

“Grandma hair,” Tolya said grimly. “Jesse Walker has gray hair like the female in the picture, and she has a dog.”

“I think I found the big water.” John held up the copy of Nature! so they could all see the illustration of the Great Lakes that went across the top half of the center spread. “There’s also an article about Thaisia’s great rivers, but these lakes are the biggest water on the continent.”

“Bumpy dark.” Tolya looked at each of them. “Any thoughts about what that could mean?”

“Cave?” Virgil said.

Tolya said to Virgil.

The Wolf looked at him.

“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Jana whispered. She looked at Tolya. “Humans. Not the terra indigene. Something is going to happen somewhere in the Great Lakes area, and because it happens, we’re all going to die.”

Tolya had never seen a human who still had blood flowing through her veins look so alarmingly pale.

Virgil snapped, “Stop it. You’re an enforcer, not some mewling, useless human.”

“I—” Jana turned on the Wolf, then stopped.

Apparently the verbal nip by her boss was as effective as an actual bite to get her brain to start thinking again. A good thing for all of them to know about the human deputy.

“I will call Jesse Walker,” Tolya said. “She may have some insights. Virgil? If you could call Jackson Wolfgard and find out if Hope Wolfsong has been . . . itchy . . . this morning?”

“Should we alert the Lakeside Courtyard?” John asked.

“And tell them what?” Tolya replied. “An untested, and probably untrained, sweet blood spoke prophecy this morning and one of the images might mean something will happen in or around the Great Lakes. That ‘something’ might happen in Lakeside or Shikago or any of the other human-controlled cities that still exist on the shores of those lakes—or even happen in one of the terra indigene communities around those lakes. Another clue seems pointed to a female who lives in Prairie Gold, which is here.” He understood the need to do something, anything, but . . . “We don’t know enough. Maddie is not Meg Corbyn or Hope Wolfsong. If we send out a warning without sufficient parameters, we could begin the very thing that will end in bloodshed. Deputy Jana is correct; if we stir up the terra indigene, which would include the Elementals and Elders, then humans will be the ones who will die.”

“So we do nothing?” Jana asked.

“We keep watch,” Virgil replied. “Tolya and I will make the phone calls; then I’ll patrol the business district. You will take the vehicle and patrol the rest of the town, driving as if this was a normal activity, not howling down the streets.”

Jana made a face at him.

Tolya said to Virgil.

Virgil asked.

Turning to Jana, Tolya said, “Yuri is not on duty at the saloon today, so he will go on patrol with you, and Garnet Ravengard will answer the telephones as a substitute dispatcher.”

“Why? Not why have Garnet—I agree it would be smart to have someone in the office, especially today—but why have Yuri go with me? He’s not a cop.”

“He is Sanguinati,” Tolya said softly. “He is Other.” He paused, then added, “He is a predator, Jana Paniccia, and if the trouble begins here, which is a possibility, you should not be driving close to the border of the wild country without a predator riding with you.”

Tolya waited until Jana headed out to patrol and John left to open the bookstore.

“You’re hoping the Maddie pup is wrong,” Virgil said.

Tolya studied the Wolf. “Aren’t you?”

A big mistake could cleanse all the humans from the continent of Thaisia—maybe even the whole world. But “all” would include the Becky girl . . . and Barb Debany . . . and the wolverine. Did he want that now?

“Should we warn Simon Wolfgard?” he asked.

“Let’s talk to Jesse Walker and Jackson first,” Tolya replied. “Let’s see if either of them can provide some structure to vague images.”

Tolya walked across the square at a brisk pace but not at a speed that would alarm the humans. As he walked, he gave his instructions to Yuri Sanguinati—and made his request to Garnet Ravengard, who was delighted to have the opportunity to answer the telephone and hear information before anyone else.

When he reached his office, he closed the door and made his call to Jesse Walker.

Jesse said nothing while Tolya explained the reason for the early morning call. She said nothing after he stopped talking. When a minute of silence filled the phone line, Tolya asked, “What are you feeling?”

Good question.

Whatever was going to happen, it wasn’t going to happen in Prairie Gold. Not initially. Which meant this wasn’t where she needed to be.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she said.

“You’re coming to Bennett?” Tolya sounded surprised. “I can call you with updates.”

“No. I need to be there.” The certainty settled around her. He didn’t realize it yet—and she couldn’t explain it—but she had a strong feeling that Tolya would need her in Bennett today.

“I will ask Anya to reserve a room for you.”

“Tell her I’m bringing the puppy.”

A sound that might have been a laugh. “If any guests protest about having a pet in the hotel, we’ll tell them the puppy is terra indigene. Most humans wouldn’t know the difference, and that will end any discussion.”

Was he trying to lighten the mood or could he laugh about a puppy while watching a potential disaster take shape on the horizon?

“I’ll be there.” Jesse hung up. Throwing a shawl over the tank top she wore at night, she selected a white flag from the umbrella stand near her back door. Stepping outside far enough to be easily seen, she waved the flag.

Tobias had told her about the instruction to send up a flare if help was needed. This was a similar system that she had already worked out with the terra indigene living in the Prairie Gold settlement. A red flag meant danger, trouble, attack. White meant she needed to get a message to the settlement or, specifically, to Morgan and Chase. Or sometimes Rachel Wolfgard since she couldn’t call the girl if something changed at the store.

The Hawk seemed to drop out of the sky and land a few feet away.

“Could you take a message to Rachel Wolfgard?” Jesse asked. “Tell her to stay home today. I’m not going to open the store. I have to go to Bennett.” She thought of the one thing that might have the juvenile Wolf ignoring her instructions. “And tell Rachel that I took Cory-Cutie with me.”

She gave the puppy a handful of kibble to gobble while she got dressed and packed a bag for the puppy, an overnight bag for herself, and everything else she thought she might need.

The third time she reached for the phone, she gave in and called the ranch. Tobias was already out with the men, which she expected.

“Ellen, it’s Jesse.”

A hesitation. “Yes?”

The hesitation told Jesse that Ellen felt something too—something too subtle to put into words. Yet. “Be watchful today.”

“Of anything particular?”

Anything. Everything. “I don’t know. I’m on my way to Bennett. I closed the store.” The only time she closed the store was for an emergency.

“I see.” Ellen, being another Intuit and a friend, would understand the messages under the words. “Call me when you get to Bennett. Tobias will worry.”

Jesse snorted. Ellen always said that when she was worried. “I’ll call.”

After settling the puppy in the traveling crate, Jesse stopped at the gas station to fill her tank and then headed to Bennett at a reckless speed.

“Jackson and Grace are out hunting with the pack,” the male voice said. “Should we find him?”

Virgil hesitated. “Where is the Hope pup?”

“Probably still at the den. She will be going to her lessons soon.”

“She’ll be watched? Will be with someone who will recognize . . . signs?”

“You think there will be signs?”

“Yes.” Maybe. Bennett’s prophet pup was untrained and untested. All her cutting had told them was that something was going to happen somewhere.

The male sucked in a breath. “We’ll make sure she is watched. And we’ll tell Jackson. The pack may need to hunt without him.”

Virgil hesitated again. Couldn’t depend on the warning given by the Maddie pup but couldn’t ignore it either. “No reason to summon Jackson unless the Hope pup starts drawing pictures.”

“We’ll keep watch.”

Virgil hung up.

We are here, he thought. We are here.

But where was the danger? And would any of them recognize it in time?

Barb fed the dogs and cats and birds. She waved at people and gave everyone a big, big smile as she walked around the town square, stopping at Move ’Em Out to buy a book she didn’t want, lingering over a cold coffee and a breakfast sandwich at the diner. She wasn’t fooling anyone. She saw that truth in the rictus smiles the Intuits offered in response to hers. They didn’t know that a blood prophet had cut herself that morning, didn’t understand feeling weighed down by a storm on the horizon, but they knew something was up when none of the terra indigene except the Sanguinati reported for work. The Others were flying around as they monitored the town, paying special attention to the roads and the railway station in a way that made the humans realize how easily the town could become a prison.

But Barb, who knew a little more than anyone else, walked around the square and smiled, and the people she saw pretended it was a normal day while they watched the Others, looked toward the Elder Hills—and waited for something they couldn’t see.

After dropping her bags in her hotel room, Jesse headed for the mayor’s office to meet with Tolya. When she first stepped out of the hotel, no one noticed her and Cory beyond a smile for the puppy and a “Good morning” to her—words that held too much anxiety to be sincere. Then . . .

She told herself there was no reason to feel embarrassed when all the people walking within sight of them froze in place because Cory started yapping at the Wolf who approached them. Having the puppy’s butt parked on her boot while doing all the yapping? That qualified as ridiculous.

“Stop,” Jesse said firmly. Like that was going to have an effect. She couldn’t even make the “no cookies” threat she used to use on Tobias when he wouldn’t settle down, because all the puppy would hear was “cookie” and that would provoke a different kind of frenzied excitement.

Why did children, regardless of species, learn the word “cookie” before words like “stop” and “no”?

After listening to the yapping for a minute, Virgil simply lifted his head and howled.

The bus and a couple of cars pulled to the curb as if responding to a siren.

Jesse sighed. Acting victorious, Cory pranced over to sniff Virgil, who gave the pup licks of praise. Or was he trying to smooth down some sticky-up fur? Who knew?

Glad Tobias wasn’t there to make some smart comment about the similarities between Wolves and mothers when it came to sticky-up hair, Jesse said, “I’m on my way to talk to Tolya.”

No warning. Virgil lunged at her, his teeth closing on the leash inches below her hand. He looked at her and growled softly.

Jesse let go of the leash. “I guess you’re taking Cory for a walk.”

“Roo.”

She watched Wolf and puppy trot across the street and into the grass on the square.

“She gets tired quickly,” she called after them.

“She’ll be fine,” Tolya said, coming up beside Jesse.

“I know.” As she looked at him, her right hand closed over her left wrist. Couldn’t stop it.

He closed his hand over her arm. “Let’s go up to my office.”

“We need to help,” she whispered. “If we help, we won’t die.”

“Come with me.”

As they reached Tolya’s office, he released her arm in order to rush to answer the phone.

“Tolya Sanguinati.”

Jesse watched his face, watched the veneer of humanity fall away until there was nothing but a predator who could pass for human long enough to get within striking distance of prey.

“I understand,” Tolya said. “I’ll stay right here until I receive it.” He hung up the phone and turned on his computer.

“What is it?” Jesse asked.

He fiddled with the mouse, with other objects on his desk, instead of looking at her. “Hope Wolfsong just finished one of her prophecy drawings.”

There was more. She waited because she had a feeling he would tell her. Needed to tell her.

“Something about the drawing upsets you,” Jesse said.

Tolya shook his head. “I haven’t seen it yet. But Jackson Wolfgard has seen it.” He finally looked at her. “And Jackson is afraid.”

“Slow down,” Yuri snapped.

“Why?” Jana snapped back. “Are you afraid I’ll crash the car and we’ll die?”

“I won’t die. I’ll shift to smoke in the moment before the crash and flow out of the hole you make in the windshield.”

It wasn’t that visual that made her take her foot off the accelerator. It was wondering if the Sanguinati knew the human saying about waste not, want not, and would consider it a waste of a fresh meal to let the remaining blood of a seriously injured human leak out onto the road.

“It will take time to scan the picture and send the e-mail,” Yuri said. “And then it will take more time for the picture to download once Tolya receives it.”

And if Tolya and Jackson Wolfgard hadn’t received special permission from the Elders to have a phone line connecting Bennett and Sweetwater, a warning like a prophet drawing might come several hours too late.

“Besides,” Yuri added, “we’re not supposed to scare the humans until we know what’s going on.”

What am I, chopped liver? Jana thought. Another human saying best left unspoken in case it prompted questions about why livers should be chopped instead of just ripped out of a body and chewed.

It took every ounce of self-control to park the vehicle properly and walk up to Tolya’s office. People stopped to watch her, then continued with their own business, satisfied by her behavior that they didn’t need to be in emergency mode—yet.

Tolya’s office felt crowded, stifling, even though there weren’t that many bodies in the room. Still, two Wolves in human form took up more space than regular humans, if for no other reason than humans didn’t want to get within biting distance of them.

Yuri shifted to smoke and drifted along the ceiling, shifting back to human form when he reached the rest of the Sanguinati, who were standing around Tolya’s desk, effectively blocking anyone else’s attempt to see the picture as it downloaded.

“Jesse.” Jana nodded at the other woman.

“Deputy.” Jesse eyed the Sanguinati, then looked at Jana. “I gather our puppies are having a playdate.”

“Are they?” Jana focused on Virgil. “I hope Cowboy Bob didn’t forget the rule—and the consequences—when it comes to giving out unauthorized treats.”

“Cowboy Bob?” Jesse looked from human to Wolf. “Tobias used to watch a TV show about a doll named Cowboy Bob that could—”

“That’s the one,” Jana said, her attention still focused on Virgil.

He showed his fangs before looking away.

Busted, she thought. Virgil wouldn’t have looked away first if he hadn’t broken the rule.

“John.” Tolya stared at the computer screen. The Sanguinati made room for the Wolf to slip around the desk and stand behind Tolya’s chair.

“Blessed Thaisia,” John whined. “That’s Meg Corbyn.”

Jana leaped toward the desk. Virgil hauled her back and growled, “Wait.”

The printer began chugging, printing out a copy of Hope Wolfsong’s prophecy drawing. As soon as it finished, Virgil snatched it out of the printer and held it so that Jana and Jesse could see it.

“Bumpy dark,” Jana whispered. The picture was of Meg Corbyn in the trunk of a car. Alive? Dead? Hard to say. Definitely wounded.

They need you to think like a cop now. Think! “The license plate is clearly rendered. Would it be accurate?”

Virgil nodded.

Jana looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s a little past noon in the Northeast Region. We have to send that information to as many police departments as we can.”

“Just one,” Tolya countered. “We send this picture on to Lakeside.”

“Not to Lakeside,” Jesse said firmly. “We send it to Ferryman’s Landing.”

Tolya began writing the e-mail to Simon Wolfgard and Vlad Sanguinati when Jesse Walker evaded Virgil and flung herself on his desk, slapping a hand over his.

“Tolya, listen to me.”

Virgil yanked her off the desk with no regard to her gender or her age. Before the Wolf could throw Jesse out of the room, Tolya said, “Sending it to Ferryman’s Landing would cause a delay.”

“No,” Jesse said.

He looked at Virgil.

She returned to the desk, shaken, her right hand clamped over her left wrist. “This is why I needed to be here today. This. Right now.”

“Then, speak.” And I will listen. He didn’t complete the words usually spoken to a blood prophet, but everyone in the room would have filled in what he hadn’t said.

“By the time anyone in the Northeast receives a copy of that drawing, Lakeside will be in turmoil,” Jesse said. “No one is going to be sitting at a desk waiting for an e-mail they don’t know is coming. They’ll be out trying to find Meg Corbyn, will be coordinating with the Lakeside police. And it would be cruel to show that picture to Meg’s loved ones.”

Would Vlad consider himself a loved one? Simon?

“We have to warn them,” Virgil growled.

“Yes, we do,” Jesse agreed. “That’s why you should send it to Steve Ferryman. Someone will be answering the phone at the mayor’s office.”

Tolya looked pointedly at his own phone, a reminder that his phone wasn’t always answered.

“It’s an Intuit village. Someone will be answering the phone during business hours. And they’ll have some kind of police force who can run the license plate just as easily as the police in Lakeside and get that part of the investigation moving. And Steve has contact with all the Intuit communities in the Northeast and can send out an alert. Another source of help, Tolya.”

“They’ll be one step removed,” Jana said. “That doesn’t mean they won’t be concerned, but they won’t be in the middle of the crisis.”

Tolya started to ask John his opinion, but the Wolf who had lived in the Lakeside Courtyard and had known Meg Corbyn looked too devastated to offer anything right now—which made him realize Jesse Walker was right. Someone had to bring this information to the Lakeside Courtyard in person.

“Suggestions?”

“Let Jesse Walker call the communications cabin that sends our messages to the Northeast,” Stazia Sanguinati said. “She is Intuit; so are the humans who work at that cabin. She will know what to say to them to convey the urgency of sending this picture to Ferryman’s Landing.”

He wasn’t sure that Jesse Walker could express herself better than he could, but he would allow her to make the call. “Anything else?”

“The trains should be stopped,” Nicolai said. “It’s unlikely that the enemy has had time to reach the border, but I think the trains should be held at the stations and searched.”

“The railroads will be reluctant to stop the trains without an explanation,” Jana said.

Nicolai smiled, showing his fangs. It wasn’t in any way a pleasant smile. “I will e-mail them and tell them the terra indigene are hunting a human enemy, and no train will be permitted to stop at the Bennett station until the enemy is found. Then each station will have a choice.”

“That message doesn’t tell them much,” Jana protested.

“It tells them everything,” Jesse replied, looking at Nicolai. “His name alone will tell the other station masters everything they need to know.”

Tolya gave Nicolai a nod. “Send your message.”

“Maybe it hasn’t happened yet,” Jana said. “Maybe we have time to stop it. Sometimes prophecies don’t happen because they were seen and people acted on the information. Right?”

“You can’t always act fast enough.” Jesse Walker met Tolya’s eyes. The grief and regret of what had happened to Joe Wolfgard and the rest of the Prairie Gold pack was still fresh for both of them. “Do you have Steve’s e-mail address?”

“Yes,” he said. “Make the phone call, Jesse Walker. Impress upon the humans working at the cabin that this message is more than urgent. It truly is a matter of life and death—for all of you.”

If we help, we won’t die. The words she had whispered such a short time ago seemed to echo in the room. He wondered if she argued to have Steve Ferryman involved in order to save the Intuits or if she had a feeling that involving the Intuits would make the difference in preventing the death that could become the trigger for so many more.

Jesse’s hands shook as she placed the call to the communications cabin.

“Hello?” A male voice filled with tension, like he’d already seen too much. Already knew too much.

“This is Jesse Walker. I’m calling on behalf of Tolya Sanguinati, in Bennett. Your counterpart in the Northeast cabin needs to make an urgent call to Steve Ferryman at the mayor’s office in Ferryman’s Landing.” Jesse stopped. Thought. “No. Your counterpart needs to make an emergency call and inform Steve that Tolya Sanguinati is sending him a prophet drawing via e-mail. Steve needs to get it to the right people as fast as he can. He’ll know who they are.”

“When is Tolya Sanguinati sending this e-mail?”

“As I speak. But Steve needs to know it’s coming, even if he gets the phone message a minute ahead of the e-mail.”

A weighty silence. “What kind of emergency?”

“Life or death for all of us.” Her words weren’t an exaggeration; they were the painful, terrifying truth.

Some commotion suddenly in the background. Raised voices. The man said, “Hold on a minute.”

Jesse listened to the voices, then looked at Jana. “Something’s wrong there.”

“Are they under attack?” Jana asked.

“You there?” The man sounded spooked. Since he was an Intuit, that wasn’t good.

“I’m here,” Jesse replied.

“You said Steve Ferryman at Ferryman’s Landing. That’s the Intuit village on Great Island, near Lakeside and Talulah Falls. Is that right?”

“Yes.” Definitely something wrong.

“A rider from the other cabin just came in with a printout of an e-mail that was sent from Ferryman’s Landing to a long list of Intuit villages as well as the Northeast communications cabin. It’s asking everyone to be on the lookout.” He hesitated. “Does that picture you’re sending have anything to do with the Lakeside Courtyard?”

“Why?”

“Because the Lakeside Courtyard’s Human Liaison was abducted a short while ago by a man named Cyrus James Montgomery.”

Jesse felt her stomach roll. Fighting against the nausea, she said, “Then let’s all hope that what we’re sending will help them find her in time.”

Parlan had done his duty, flirting with his business partners’ wives enough to make them feel good without flirting so much that the husbands might feel a flicker of jealousy—if they could take their eyes off the prettier, younger women who were traveling on the train. Now he wanted to go back to his private car before the train left the station—and before one of the women invited herself to join him.

“If you ladies will excuse me . . .” He pushed his chair back.

“It’s outrageous,” a man said as he and a companion entered the car and took the table on the opposite side of the aisle. “And no explanation!”

“There’s a problem on the tracks?” Parlan suddenly felt uneasy in the same way he did when a game turned sour. “My apologies for intruding on your conversation, but what you just said sounds alarming.”

“Alarming?” The man huffed. “Damned inconvenient, that’s what it is. The station in Bennett is closed, so now all the trains are being held at whatever station is their nearest stop until . . . Well, that’s the point. No one will tell us why the Bennett station closed, so no one can tell us when we’ll get moving again.”

“There was that robbery at the way station the other day,” the man’s companion said. “Maybe the authorities are closing in on the robber. He shot one of the people working at that station, didn’t he?”

“If that was the case, you’d think they’d want the trains moving instead of being sitting targets. Might as well put up a big sign that says, ‘We’re stuck here, come rob us.’”

Spotting the conductor as the man entered the car, Parlan raised a hand, a quiet command that received more attention than the men who, also spotting the conductor, were loudly demanding answers.

“Gentlemen,” Parlan said sternly. “We’d all like to hear what the conductor has to tell us, so be quiet now.”

They wanted to argue—oh, how they wanted to argue—but they looked in his eyes and saw a hint of why he was the leader of the Blackstone Clan, why he, who seldom got his hands dirty, had influence over a man like Judd McCall.

“If you could tell us what you know,” Parlan said quietly, shifting his gaze back to the conductor.

“Station master at Bennett said the Others are hunting for a human enemy, and he was closing his station until further notice. No trains allowed in and nothing going out. Every station master who received the message is holding the trains.”

“Why? Surely a problem at one station shouldn’t put a freeze on the trains throughout the Midwest.”

The conductor gave him a strange smile. “One of the Sanguinati is the station master in Bennett. If he’s giving the warning . . . Well, you’re all free to disembark and find another way to where you’re going, but stations have been designated safe ground as long as no one starts any trouble, so you won’t find any man who works for the railroad, from engineer to porter, who is going to leave a station until we get a message that the trouble is past.”

The conductor took a step toward the next car, then looked at the two men who had been making all the ruckus. “Don’t usually tell passengers this because it would scare them too much, but there are terra indigene out there that like to chase the trains for the fun of it. And some of them can outrun a train, they’re that fast and that big. Not that you actually see anything. It’s more an impression that you’re being chased. And sometimes the fun turns into a hunt. Everyone who works on the lines has seen what happens to a train when the Others attack—and what happens to the people inside the cars. We’re not going to die today so that you can make a profit.”

The conductor walked to the next car to inform the passengers of the delay.

Parlan shuffled the cards. He could try to call Judd and Lawry and find out if they’d heard anything—and if they hadn’t, he needed to warn them that the Others were hunting a human enemy. Unless Sweeney Cooke and Charlie Webb had somehow gotten far enough ahead of Judd to have reached Bennett already, they weren’t the cause of this lockdown of the trains.

If he went to his private car, he’d have the solitude he wanted but he wouldn’t hear the news as it drifted through the public cars, wouldn’t have a sense of what the Blackstone Clan’s next move should be.

“If you ladies will excuse me for a minute,” Parlan said. “I need to stretch my legs.”

Gentlemen stretched their legs. Ladies powdered their noses. Human euphemisms for needing the toilet—and not using those phrases was one of the small ways a terra indigene who could otherwise pass for human revealed what it was.

“When I return, perhaps you’d like to play another game to pass the time?” The women fluttered like schoolgirls, their sagging middle-aged bosoms encased in garments that didn’t invite a man’s fingers to touch, didn’t intrigue him into wanting to reveal what the garments hid. Parlan had a feeling their husbands’ fingers were exploring nubile flesh right now, and being discovered by hurt, outraged wives would cast a shadow on his plans. So he squelched his desire for solitude and took just enough time to step outside and place the calls, leaving messages for Judd and Lawry. Then he stretched his legs before rejoining the women and keeping them occupied until dinner.

Jana rode Mel around the business district’s side streets and up and down the residential streets, looking for any sign that the Elders were, once again, coming down from the hills to unleash their fury on the residents of Bennett—innocent people who had nothing to do with whatever was happening in the Northeast. Not that being innocent would make any difference.

Was ignorance better than knowledge? She and Jesse Walker were the only humans in Bennett who had seen the drawing of Meg Corbyn in the trunk of that car. They were the only ones who knew the name of Meg’s abductor—Cyrus James Montgomery. They were the only ones who knew the problem wasn’t something anyone here could fix, that it was happening hundreds of miles from here.

But every human here would pay in flesh and blood if the drawing Tolya had sent didn’t arrive in time to help save Meg Corbyn. And she wondered, as she’d wondered throughout the day, what made this one woman so important to the terra indigene that her loss might unleash a flood of hate toward the rest of the humans on the continent.

She’d probably never know the answer, so she rode around the town square and the nearby streets where other businesses were located. People watched her, taking some comfort in the knowledge that she was there to serve and protect—just as she took comfort whenever she heard a Wolf howl.

We are here.

She wondered if that would be true tomorrow.

Virgil leaned in the doorway of the sheriff’s office, conserving energy for when it was needed, and checked in with his brother.

Virgil smiled.

Since it was obvious who was requiring the adults to put a new movie into the disc player when the previous one finished, Kane ignored Virgil’s question and asked one of his own.

He wished John hadn’t told him and Kane stories about Broomstick Girl. He wished he hadn’t begun to think of her as part of the Lakeside Wolves’ pack, hadn’t felt amusement mixed with sympathy for Simon’s frustration in dealing with a female who was like an innocent, and somewhat clumsy, force of nature in her own small way.

He wished he’d seen a happy picture of Meg Corbyn before he’d seen that picture.

He watched Deputy Jana walk down the street from the livery stable.

How much of his tolerance for humans, and for dealing with the wolverine, was due to the stories about Broomstick Girl? And how much tolerance for humans would die throughout Thaisia if Simon didn’t find Lakeside’s sweet blood?

“You are done riding the horse who is not meat?” he asked when Jana reached the office.

“His name is Mel.”

He shrugged because he knew it would annoy her. Right now, he preferred dealing with the wolverine.

The phone rang.

They looked at each other as the phone rang a second time. Then Virgil rushed to answer it. While he listened to the person on the phone, Jana would have been breathing down his neck if she’d been tall enough to reach it.

He hung up and dodged around her in order to head outside.

“Darn it, Virgil.” Jana grabbed the back of his shirt and tried to stop him. Couldn’t do it, of course, but she tried. He heard a couple of seams rip before he reached the sidewalk.

He’d decide later if he was annoyed or amused. Right now . . .

“Arrrrroooooo!”

Everyone around the square stopped moving, stopped working, maybe even stopped breathing.

“What?” Jana said. “Who was on the phone? What did they say?”

“They found her. Simon found her.” Something hot and heavy filled his chest. Relief? He wasn’t sure. Tonight he would shift to Wolf and run and run until that feeling eased.

“Alive?”

The wolverine smelled of fear. For herself or for the girl in the Lakeside Courtyard that she might have met in passing?

“Alive,” he confirmed. “Hurt, but alive.”

“Thank the gods,” she whispered. Her voice shook but she stood straight.

“What do humans do when you receive news like this?”

“Laugh, cry, gather and hug each other. Become giddy enough to be a little stupid.”

“Humans are always a little stupid.”

She laughed. “I guess we are.” Then she sobered. “The man. Cyrus James Montgomery. Are the police still looking for him?”

“No.” Virgil met her eyes. “The Elders found him.”

He was glad she didn’t understand what that meant. Dead, yes. She understood that much. But not the rest.

He did understand what it meant—and he was glad.

Scythe watched the humans who filled the Bird Cage Saloon. They crowded all the tables and stood three-deep at the bar. Even Candice Caravelli and Lila Gold were behaving oddly. Excited and fluttery, like Yellow Bird when she gave it fresh food and water.

“This behavior is normal?” she asked Don Miller. Yuri Sanguinati was at the other end of the bar, filling drink orders as fast as he could. “They don’t even know what happened.”

“We don’t know the specifics, but enough of us had a feeling that something bad was happening, something the sheriff and the mayor wouldn’t—or couldn’t—share with the rest of us. And now there’s a feeling that the crisis is over, that things are okay again.” Don looked at the customers. “So, yeah, this behavior is normal. Everyone wants to celebrate.”

Scythe considered his words and nodded. “I will walk among the customers and smile at them.”

“Which is exactly what the owner of a frontier saloon should do.”

Pleased that she had correctly interpreted her role in this situation, she was about to step away from Don when she saw the look on his face. Sharp. Almost predatory.

she said.

The Sanguinati looked up, looked over. Focused on Don. Then focused on what had caught the Intuit’s attention.

So did Scythe, but all she saw was Jesse Walker elbow her way up to the bar.

“Jesse?” Don said.

“Bottle of whiskey. I’ll take it with me.”

Don hesitated, then selected an unopened bottle and handed it to Jesse. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Not necessary,” Jesse snapped.

But Don was already moving to the open end of the bar—and Scythe moved with him, scanning the area of the saloon where Jesse had been. All these happy humans, and suddenly one who was important to the town was unhappy. In her saloon. Why?

As Don escorted Jesse to the door and Yuri kept watch, Scythe moved through the mass of human bodies who were laughing and singing poorly compared to Yellow Bird—a hunter moving through oblivious prey.

There was a male over there who looked angry, but the look disappeared when Garnet Ravengard walked by and stopped when the man spoke to her.

Perhaps she’d been mistaken. Perhaps he wasn’t angry, just disappointed that he wasn’t talking to a female.

But Jesse Walker. That was a problem someone else needed to fix.

“So we’re okay?” Tobias asked.

Jana tightened her hold on the mobile phone as if it were a lifeline. She’d told him enough for him to appreciate how close they had come to disaster today. “We’re okay. Didn’t think of what it must have been like for the cops in Lakeside when the scariest forms of terra indigene declared war on humans and swept through the cities. The cops knew enough to understand what was going to happen—and there was nothing they could do to stop it. Nothing I could have done here to help anyone if things had gone the other way back East. Feels pretty helpless.”

“You weren’t helpless, Jana. You were out there doing your job. Keeping the peace. Providing vigilant protection.”

“I wish you were here.” I wish you were kissing me and helping me forget what could have happened today.

“Have you and your housemate worked out a system for when you need privacy, or is everyone okay with a closed bedroom door?”

“What?” She felt her face heat and wondered if Tobias had somehow sensed her thoughts or was just letting her know he’d like to explore the spark that was between them.

Tobias laughed. “You can give me an answer the next time I’m in town.”

A Wolf howled nearby.

“Have to go,” Jana said. “I’m still officially on duty.”

“Long day.”

“Yeah. But once the saloon closes and we make sure everyone who was celebrating is still sober enough to find their way home, Rusty and I will be heading home too.”

“Good night, Deputy.”

“Good night, Rancher.”

As she ended the call, Jana wondered why those two words, deputy and rancher, made her feel a little sad.

Tolya knocked softly on Jesse Walker’s hotel room door. He heard movement inside the room, but he didn’t hear footsteps approaching the door.

All Scythe could tell him was there was something wrong with Jesse, that she was unhappy and upset when all the other humans seemed excessively happy, and that she had bought a bottle of whiskey to take back to her room. Yuri couldn’t tell him much more than that.

He knocked again, louder this time in case Jesse hadn’t heard the first request to enter.

More sounds in the room. How much had she drunk? Surely not enough in the time between Scythe’s and Yuri’s reports and his standing here to have done herself some harm. Easy enough to shift to smoke and flow under the door and . . .

The rattle of the security chain before the door opened with a jerk.

They stared at each other. Tolya was surprised at the stiff body and the anger on Jesse’s face. Then the anger faded and the stiffness eased.

“Oh.” Jesse opened the door wider and stepped to one side. “Tolya. Come in.”

He came in and closed the door behind him. Put on the security chain. Then he moved closer, studying her. “You expected someone else.” Not a guess; a certainty. Just as he was certain the other visitor would have been unwelcome.

She poured a double shot of whiskey in a water glass and downed it. “I may not be some fresh young thing anymore, but after waiting through this day to find out if we were going to survive, I just wanted to kick up my heels and have a little adult fun with a like-minded man. And no matter what anyone says, I am not lonely, and by all the gods, I’m not so old and so desperate for male company that I need to accept a pity fuck.” She grabbed the bottle and poured another double shot. As she raised the glass, she looked at him. “You probably don’t know what that means.”

“I know what a pity fuck is, but I don’t understand why someone would offer one to you.”

She laughed, a bitter sound that troubled him—and angered him when he realized she had misunderstood what he’d meant.

Humans had sex without wanting to have a mate or young, so Jesse’s age wasn’t relevant, and despite being human, she was an interesting, intelligent female. Such a female would never be desperate for male company if she wanted company. But whatever words were said had hurt her, and he valued her too much to let her wallow in that hurt when there was something he could do.

“Who made such an offer to you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It made you unhappy, so it does matter.”

Jesse sipped the whiskey and eyed him. “It doesn’t matter enough for me to identify the fool. He bruised my ego, hurt my feelings. I’ll get over it.”

Will you?

“It’s just . . . I thought there would be enough single men here that one of them would want a skin-to-skin celebration. That’s all I was looking for, some company tonight and, hopefully, some halfway-decent sex. But the man who approached me made it clear he would be doing me a favor, which is all I could expect, and I don’t want that kind of company.”

“There will be many having sex tonight?” Tolya asked.

“Oh, yes. It’s a very human way of confirming that you’re still alive.”

Tolya walked over to Jesse and took the glass from her hand. “Enough.”

“Why? If I can’t have sex, I might as well get drunk.”

“You are going to have sex, and I don’t want to get drunk.”

“How . . . ?” Her eyes widened when she realized what he meant.

“Not a pity fuck—and not a pity feed. A mutual give-and-take between friends to celebrate being alive. Is that acceptable?”

She said nothing. She just studied him. Finally she nodded. “That’s acceptable.”

She looked away, and he was charmed to see her blush.

“Is it different with your kind?” she asked.

Tolya smiled. “In this form, I believe the mechanics are the same. The rest?” He shrugged. “You can tell me after.”

As he kissed her, touched her, undressed her, he couldn’t say if it was different for her, but it was different for him. This wasn’t an impersonal hunt where sex was the bait. This wasn’t a stranger’s body to feed on and leave. This also wasn’t romance as portrayed in human stories. This wasn’t love, and it wouldn’t be forever. Someday he and a Sanguinati female would become a mated pair and would raise their young. But for tonight at least, he could touch and taste and kiss a woman’s flesh in ways that pleased her. When he moved inside her and she moved beneath him, he told her without words that she mattered.

And when she guided his mouth to her neck in order to feed while passion fired her blood, she told him in her own way that he mattered too.