Murder of Crows

CHAPTER 17

Simon raced beneath a full moon, reveling in his speed and power as he closed the distance between himself and the most delicious-tasting, succulent meat he’d ever known. His soon. All his.

He chased her until she began to tire. The pumping legs, the pumping arms. They couldn’t give her enough speed to escape a Wolf.

He caught up to her, felt the rhythm of her moving limbs, closed his teeth over her elbow as it swung back—and pulled her down.

Intoxicating scent, that blood. And meat so very delicious because it was …

Simon woke with a yelp and flung himself off the bed. Panicked and panting, he peered over the edge. The room held the faint gray of early morning, which was enough light for a Wolf. He couldn’t see Meg on the bed, but …

He started to shift. Remembering his promise to stay in Wolf form, he shoved his head under the covers and sniffed.

Blood.

Scrambling away from the bed, he howled, filling the sound with his unhappiness and fear.

A startled response from Vlad, whose apartment was two doors down. Tess and Henry had apartments on the other side of the complex, but they would be demanding answers soon.

He didn’t have answers. He had only the memory of his teeth …

Simon howled again—and Meg appeared in the doorway. She flipped on the overhead light, momentarily blinding both of them.

“Simon, what’s wrong?”

He leaped toward her, caught the scent of blood, and backed away, whining. The delicious smell of her was right, but the taste in his mouth was all wrong, confusing him.

“What is wrong with you?” She looked frazzled. “Are you hurt? Are you sick?”

That wasn’t fair! She’d made him promise not to shift, but now she was asking questions that he couldn’t answer because she couldn’t communicate in the terra indigene way.

He shook his head. It was the best he could do under the circumstances.

Meg sagged against the doorway for a moment. “Okay. Since you’re all right, I … have to flush the toilet and wash my hands. I thought something was wrong, and I didn’t finish things.”

She hurried back to the bathroom and shut the door more firmly than she needed to.

The front door of her apartment opened and slammed shut.

“Meg!” Vlad shouted.

Simon shifted, grabbed the jeans he’d left on the floor by the bed, and pulled them on before Vlad appeared in the bedroom doorway.

“What’s going on?” Vlad asked as he stepped into the room.

“I’m not sure.”

“Are you still sick?”

“No.” In fact, now that he was fully awake, he felt good. Confused, yes, but rested, energized.

Meg returned to the bedroom and stared at the two of them. “What is wrong with all of you this morning?”

“I smelled blood,” Simon said. “It was … upsetting.” He looked at her torso, just below the breasts. Did the cut open up? If it opened up and bled again, would Meg need to speak prophecy? Or did she have a fresh cut? Was that the reason she was in the bathroom? “Is there something I should write down?”

“No,” Meg replied tightly. “It’s not a cut, so there aren’t any visions or prophecies with this kind of blood.”

He cocked his head. “There are different kinds of blood?”

Vlad, who was standing closer to her, looked at her face and took a step back. Simon wished he hadn’t put on the jeans so he could grow a tail and tuck it over his male bits.

“I’m a girl!” she shouted. “It happens!”

Simon glanced at Vlad, who looked equally puzzled.

“You’re both so quick to think it’s ‘that time of the month’ whenever a girl isn’t all sweet and sunny, but it doesn’t occur to you when it really is that time of the month?”

Probably best not to point out that she’d been living in the Courtyard for three months now and this was the first time she’d done this particular female thing. Maybe blood prophets came into season once a season? How were the Others supposed to know? The human female employees usually took those days off work to avoid being around predators who might become excited by the blood scent. So this was his first experience being around a female who was doing this and wasn’t terra indigene—and most kinds of terra indigene females only came into season once or twice a year.

“Meg,” Vlad finally said.

She gave Vlad a scalding look. “Since I’m not getting any more sleep, I’m going to put the kettle on and make some chamomile tea.”

For a short female whose weight was appropriate to her height, she could sound as stompy as a bison.

Vlad turned to look at him. “What’s going on?”

“I think Meg is in season.” That wasn’t what humans called it, but he was rattled and couldn’t remember the right word. “I was dreaming. I must have smelled the blood and …”

Vlad flipped the covers back. They looked at the brownish red smear on the bottom sheet. He flipped the covers up. “I don’t want Meg mad at me for poking into private things, so I didn’t see that.” He picked up one of the pillows and frowned. “Why is one corner of this pillow drooled on and chewed?”

That explained the taste in his mouth. Instead of answering, Simon retrieved his sweater and put it on. “You head off Henry and Tess. I’ll deal with Meg.” He paused in the doorway. “Human females. They’re kind of crazy during this time, aren’t they?”

“If you choose to believe the stories written by male writers,” Vlad replied.

They heard a bang and thump from the kitchen, followed by Meg yelling at something.

Simon sighed. “That many males can’t be wrong.”

“This morning’s top news stories. Late yesterday evening, radio and television stations in Talulah Falls stopped broadcasting. Sometime after midnight, phone lines went down. A spokesman for the Lakeside mayor’s office says every effort is being made to reestablish contact. Here at home, terror and tragedy struck last night at the Lakeside University when over two hundred students living on or near the campus contracted a mysterious illness. So far four deaths have been reported, and investigating officers and medical personnel are working to identify the illness and counter its effects. When asked if this was a new kind of plague, medical personnel refused to comment. However, all classes at the university are canceled until further notice. This is Ann Hergott at WZAS, bringing you the news on the hour and half hour. And now …”

The man sitting in front of Monty on the Whitetail Road bus turned off his portable radio and gave his fellow passengers a self-conscious smile. “Sorry. I was hoping the investigators had identified the cause of the illness.”

The investigating officers know enough about the illness not to ask what caused it, Monty thought, giving the man a distracted smile before turning to look out the window. They’ll remember the talk about people who came down with similar complaints a few weeks ago. They’ll look at the students who died and remember that a woman named Asia Crane had also died in a way that gave seasoned cops and medical examiners nightmares.

The cause of those illnesses and deaths lived in the Lakeside Courtyard—and there was nothing the police could do about it.

“Captain Burke is looking for you,” Kowalski said as soon as Monty reached his desk.

“Already? I came in early because Dr. Lorenzo and I have a meeting with Simon Wolfgard this morning.”

“Well, I think the captain has been here for a while.” Kowalski hesitated. “Debany heard the news on the radio and called me. He’s a bit freaked.”

“I imagine he would be.” Debany was one of the officers who’d found Asia Crane. “Where is he now?”

“At the efficiency apartments. He didn’t want Ms. Lee to be alone last night. But he’ll be in for his shift.”

Monty studied his partner. “Is Ruthie all right?”

Kowalski gave him a strained smile. “The president of the school where she teaches suggested that she take an unpaid leave of absence.”

“Why? Because the rest of the faculty don’t want to be around someone who is a ‘Wolf lover’?”

“Something like that. There’s only a few weeks left in the school year. Ruthie wants to stick it out if she can. And, frankly, it’s going to be hard to afford our new place without both incomes.” Kowalski tipped his head toward the captain’s office. “Not a good day to keep him waiting.”

As soon as Monty walked into the captain’s office, Burke said, “Close the door and have a seat, Lieutenant. Your meeting still on with the Courtyard’s Business Association?”

“Yes, sir. In about thirty minutes.”

“Then I’ll be brief. You’ve heard about the university?”

“And about losing communication with Talulah Falls.”

“Nothing we can do about the Falls, so let’s do what we can to help Captain Wheatley contain the situation at the university.”

“Yes, sir.” What were they supposed to do? Stop our own people from escalating the troubles; that’s what we’re supposed to do.

Burke pushed a piece of paper across the desk.

Monty picked it up and read, “ ‘The next time you touch what is ours, this will happen to all of you.’ ” He felt dizzy. “What is this?”

“That message was found with one of the bodies, written in a notebook the boy must have been carrying. I think the message is clear enough.”

“Simon Wolfgard wouldn’t allow that.” At least Monty hoped Wolfgard wouldn’t agree to senseless slaughter.

“Remember when this strange illness appeared a few weeks ago, around the time when Darrell Adams died? We suspected then that there is something in the Courtyard that can kill with a look. If that creature now wants to wipe out the entire student body of Lakeside University, I don’t think Simon Wolfgard is going to get in its way.” Burke’s smile was fierce and friendly—and held a little pity. “You’re a bit innocent, aren’t you, Lieutenant?”

“Sir?”

“You were born and raised in Toland?”

“Yes. My father’s family immigrated to Thaisia from Afrikah a few generations ago and settled in Toland. Most of my mother’s family still live in the Storm Islands.”

“But you never had any real contact with the Others until now?”

Monty shook his head. “I didn’t even know that Sanguinati was the name for vampires or that they ruled the Courtyard in Toland until I came here.”

“And that’s why you’re an innocent. The Sanguinati have ruled the Toland Courtyard for two hundred years or more.” Burke blew out a breath. “Gods above and below, how many other officers in the Big City don’t know something that basic?”

Stung, Monty wanted to push back, but he tried to keep his voice courteous. “We were charged with keeping the peace among our own kind. Most police officers never came in contact with the terra indigene. It’s not that different here. This station and its personnel are the only ones who have to deal with the Others on a regular basis. It’s not like there’s any status in dealing with the fanged and furred.”

“The fanged and furred?” Burke linked his fingers together and rested his hands on his belly. “That’s quite an outburst coming from you. Why do I think this lapse has nothing to do with Talulah Falls or the students at the university?”

“I have to get to my meeting.” Monty didn’t want to admit that it was the call he’d received from Elayne last night that was behind the outburst. Her speech had been slurred, which made him suspect she’d been drinking steadily for a few hours before the call, and he should have hung up since there was no likelihood of him talking to Lizzy at that hour. But he’d listened to her rave about her new lover and how Nicholas Scratch was going to make things happen and how much she was looking forward to spending the summer with him at his family’s estate in Cel-Romano.

Suddenly he realized he’d been thinking out loud.

“Have you found out anything about Mr. Scratch or his current plans while he’s in Thaisia?” Burke asked.

Monty shook his head. “I’d be accused of being a jealous ex-lover if Elayne found out I was investigating Scratch in any way, and it’s already hard getting any information out of her about my daughter’s well-being.”

“I’m not an ex-lover, and considering his line of work and the current tension in the cities around the Great Lakes, I have a very good reason for wanting to know more about Nicholas Scratch and his speaking engagements—especially if he’s planning to visit the area anytime soon. And if I choose to share that information with some of my officers, that’s just police business.”

Monty felt sick with relief. He’d take whatever help he could get to keep tabs on his little girl.

But thinking about Lizzy made him think of something else. “Captain? Why isn’t anyone trying to help the people in Talulah Falls?”

Burke gave him a long look. “Say the governor of the Northeast Region orders every city, town, and village to send a percentage of its police force to the Falls to extricate the citizens who are trapped there. And we’re assuming some of them are still alive. How would that armed force reach the Falls?”

“They could go by train,” Monty replied, having the odd feeling that he was about to prove his innocence once again. “Or pack men and supplies into buses and …” He understood so many things at that moment. Why the human-controlled cities in Thaisia were so far apart. Why the police in each city were the only armed force, hired and trained to maintain order within the human population—and stop people from provoking the Others into a slaughter.

“All roads travel through the woods,” Burke said gently. “The moment the terra indigene spotted an armed force on the move, they would do what they have always done here in Thaisia—and everywhere else in the world, for that matter. They would crush the enemy, Lieutenant. They would smash the roads, tear up the train tracks, leave no survivors. And after that, what odds would you give that the Others would allow the roads and tracks to be repaired?”

“No odds,” Monty said, feeling a shiver run through him. “But it would inconvenience them too.”

“Not nearly as much as it would inconvenience us, because it’s a good bet they’ve built roads that aren’t accessible to us.” Burke sighed. “Hopefully the government in the Falls is doing its best to negotiate for the town’s continued existence and a ‘citizen swap.’ ”

“A what?”

“I was a boy the last time it happened, and I don’t even remember which part of the continent was involved. But there was a blowup between humans and Others that was escalating toward humans being exterminated in that part of Thaisia. The Others didn’t want the town to go away completely, but they weren’t going to deal with the humans living there. So a few towns arranged a swap—some of their people moved to the town under siege, and the existing citizens were relocated. Fresh start for everyone. If my father had been younger and single at that time, I think he would have gone for the adventure of it. But everything was too unsettled between us and the Others, and my mother didn’t want to risk her children in such a place.”

“Do you think that will happen in the Falls?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is the farmers in Jerzy talked to the terra indigene and are being allowed to return to their farms. They hadn’t been part of that fight, so when they asked to stay they were given permission. None of the people living in the hamlet itself were allowed to stay. The last of them were escorted out a few days ago.” Burke picked up a folder and set it in the middle of his desk. “You’re going to be late for your meeting, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.” Monty pushed out of the chair. When he reached the door, he looked back. “Do you think the Others are afraid of some of their kind?”

Burke opened the folder and didn’t look up. “I think some of them are afraid sometimes. And some of them aren’t afraid of anything except the end of the world itself—and maybe not even that.”

“I’m going with you,” Meg said. She tossed her carry bag into the back of the BOW and hoped Simon didn’t see her wince. Why would moving her arm pull at the cut on her torso? She didn’t remember having so many movement restrictions when she lived in the compound. On the other hand, the girls didn’t do anything the day after a cut except sit quietly at their lessons.

“I know,” Simon replied, giving her a wary look. “I’m driving you up to the Market Square because you wanted to meet the female who is going to work for Dr. Lorenzo. And you wanted to look at the books that came in for the library since you still need to rest for the next few days.”

“Yes, I want to meet Theral MacDonald and look at the books, but I also want to find out how Merri Lee is doing. She was beat up, which is something none of you thought to tell me.”

She saw something change in his face and identified the look. If she kept pushing, the dominant male would need to assert his dominance.

“I was going to tell you,” he growled. “You didn’t need to know yesterday, so who told you?”

“Well, maybe you were right not to tell me yesterday.” She saw no reason to admit that Jenni Crowgard had told her a few minutes ago when Simon had gone to the garage to get the BOW and bring it around. As if a cut on her torso stopped her legs from working properly. On the other hand, it was foolish to slap at someone who was trying to be thoughtful, especially when being thoughtful toward a human was a new behavior. “But that’s not what I meant. I’m going with you to this big meeting you’re all having with Lieutenant Montgomery and Dr. Lorenzo.” Which was something Jenni had also mentioned, along with the grumble that the Crows weren’t invited.

Simon’s canines lengthened, his amber eyes held those weird flickers of red that indicated he was angry, and fur sprang up on his cheeks.

“That meeting has something to do with what happened to both of us yesterday, doesn’t it?” Meg pushed with disregard for the consequences. “It has to do with the things I saw in the prophecy, and what happened to you afterward. So I should be there too.”

He stared at her while the fur receded from his cheeks. If you didn’t count the red flickering in his eyes and the canines, which were still too long, he could pass for human. But she didn’t think he was feeling very human, especially when he came around to her side of the vehicle and pinned her between his body and the BOW without actually touching her.

“Give me the razor,” he growled.

They’d had this argument before. “It’s mine.”

“Maybe you should be at that meeting. But I am not having you there with a razor in your pocket. Not on a day when you’re having a bout of female crazies.”

At that moment, she wished she was as strong as some of the women in stories she’d read recently. She would really like to pick up the BOW and smack him on the head with it.

Female crazies! How dare he!

“I’m not the one who was howling his head off this morning!” she snapped. “And what were you dreaming about that you chewed on my pillow?”

He leaned forward just enough that his body brushed against hers.

“I dreamed I was biting you.”

Okay, it had been a while since he’d threatened to eat her or even bite her. But this didn’t sound the same as when he used to say it. It sounded darker, riper.

She swallowed—and his eyes followed the movement of her throat. Could he see her pulse beating, hear her heart pounding?

“We’re going to be late,” she whispered.

He took a step back and held out his hand. She didn’t argue; she pulled the silver folding razor out of her jeans pocket and handed it to him. He shoved it into his own pocket, then walked around to the driver’s side and got in.

Shaking, Meg slipped into the passenger seat and closed her door. If the rest of the Others were as stirred up as Simon, maybe she didn’t want to go to this meeting after all.

Monty wasn’t pleased to see Meg Corbyn walk into the meeting room with Simon. He didn’t think Dominic Lorenzo was pleased either. They’d both hoped the Others would have a little time to think about Lorenzo’s ideas before seeing their Human Liaison.

Henry Beargard and Tess pointed to a couple of chairs around the low table, then took their own seats. Elliot and Blair Wolfgard were also in the room, but they stood against the wall. Observers rather than participants?

“This might not be …” Monty began.

Simon snarled at him. “We’re all looking for answers. Meg is part of this, and she wants to be here.” He turned to Henry. “Where is Vlad?”

“On his way,” the Grizzly replied. “He said to wait for them.”

Simon froze for a moment, then sat next to Meg, who was between him and Tess.

Before anyone had a chance to feel restless, Vladimir Sanguinati walked into the room with a beautiful woman dressed in a long, old-fashioned, black velvet gown with draping sleeves. Like Vlad, she had olive skin, black hair, and dark eyes. Monty felt a tug of attraction and wondered how many men who responded to that tug survived.

But it was the old man with her who held Monty’s attention. His hands were knobby and veined, with thickened nails that looked more like horn. Like the woman’s gown, his clothes looked old-fashioned, but there was a smudged quality to the edges that made Monty wonder if the garments were actually made of cloth.

“Mr. Erebus,” Meg said, sounding surprised and pleased.

He smiled at Meg, a benign old man. “How is our Meg today?”

Something crawled down Monty’s back, something more primitive than fear. He was sure the slight accent was an affectation. It reminded him too much of the villains in the movies he used to watch as a boy for him to believe it was genuine. And it made him wonder what the voice might reveal without that affectation.

“I’m fine,” she replied, smiling at the old man.

“She needs to take it easy for a few more days so she heals properly,” Simon said. “No lifting mailbags or heavy packages. Right?” He aimed the last word at Dr. Lorenzo.

“I’ll be better able to judge after I examine the cut, but there’s no harm in being careful,” Lorenzo replied.

“Grandfather,” Vlad said, “this is Lieutenant Crispin James Montgomery and Dr. Dominic Lorenzo. Gentlemen, this is Erebus Sanguinati.”

Tess was the only one in the room who didn’t seem wary of Erebus, but her hair had changed from brown and wavy to green and curling with red streaks.

As the Sanguinati took their seats around the table, the door opened and four women walked in.

Monty recognized two of them. They had created the blizzard that could have buried Lakeside. Seeing them now, Monty didn’t need to be told that the outcome of this meeting could have terrible repercussions.

Simon nodded to the four women, then addressed the humans in the room. “This is Water, Air, Spring, and Winter.”

Lorenzo gave Monty a startled look, as if asking, Really?

Monty moved his head in the barest nod. Yes, really. The Elementals were sitting in on this meeting. Were the shifters and vampires feeling as uncomfortable as the humans were because of these additional attendees? After all, a blizzard could kill Wolves as well as humans.

Finally Simon looked at Vlad. “Do you have that list from the prophecy?”

Vlad handed Simon a manila envelope. “That’s everything.”

Simon opened the envelope, pulled out a sheet of paper, and set it on the table in front of Meg. “This is what I could remember of what you said. I think there was more, but …” He stopped and just watched Meg.

“There were more images,” Meg whispered. “I almost … remember.”

The fingers of her right hand moved restlessly up and down her thigh, digging into the jeans as if trying to reach the skin. The fingers of her left hand were digging into her right forearm. When her left hand reached for her torso, the fingers a claw of tense muscles, Lorenzo made a wordless protest. Simon caught her hand and said, “No, Meg.”

Tess went to one of the desks in the room and came back with a pad of paper and a pen. Leaning forward to catch Meg’s attention, she said, “Speak, prophet, and we will listen.”

Command and promise. Monty wasn’t sure if Tess was mesmerizing Meg or if it was the phrase itself, but after staring at Tess for a long moment, Meg focused on the paper with its list of words.

Her left hand reached for her right forearm again. Simon released her but looked ready to grab her at the first sign she might dig into the cut that was healing or do some other harm to herself.

Meg leaned forward and touched the paper, her fingers moving between the words “fin” and “smiling shark.”

“Donkey,” she said, sounding oddly tranquil while her brow furrowed in concentration. “Not donkey but like donkey.”

While Tess wrote down the words, Monty reached in his pocket for his own notebook and pen, then glanced at Simon for permission. Receiving a brusque nod of consent, he too wrote down the words.

“Car,” Meg said. “Sunrise. Car. Sunset. Geese and suitcases.” Her fingers moved down the list. “Fog. Water. Hide the children. Shark.” She stopped scratching at her arm long enough to brush her fingers over her left cheek. “Broken jars. Lumpy smoke. Scars.”

Monty shivered. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the slight tremor in Lorenzo’s hands. They had both seen the crime scene photos that had been sent from Talulah Falls before all communication was severed. Meg’s words were a vague but accurate description of what had been found in that basement in the Falls.

“Anything else?” Tess asked.

Meg stared at the list. “People-shaped cookies driving a boat.” Her hands relaxed. She blinked a couple of times, then looked apologetic. “That’s all I remember. I don’t know what any of it means.”

“Figuring out what it means is our part of the job, not yours,” Tess said briskly.

Simon rested a hand on Meg’s back. “You want anything?”

“Water,” Meg replied. “I’m thirsty.”

“I would recommend some fruit juice as well,” Dr. Lorenzo said, studying Meg.

“I’ll get it,” Elliot said. “Is the back door to A Little Bite open?”

Tess nodded, her attention on her list. “What’s a donkey but not a donkey?”

“Horse, mule, ass,” Blair said. “All good to eat.”

“But none of those animals have fins,” Monty said.

“No, they don’t.” Meg seemed to shrink into herself. Then she winced.

Simon gave Monty a warning look that clearly meant Don’t upset Meg.

A glance at the Elementals and Sanguinati who were between him and the door told Monty it wasn’t the Wolves he needed to fear right now.

“It’s all about images,” Simon said. “The images you see can have a different meaning when combined in different ways, right?”

Meg nodded.

“You mentioned cars this time,” Henry said. “Maybe there is a fin or a donkey painted on the car.”

“Sunrise and sunset,” Blair said. “East and west.”

“Someone traveling?” Tess said. “Coming from the west and heading east?”

“And traveling … Meg, do you remember which way the geese were flying?”

Meg closed her eyes. “North.”

“Something you see as a shark is traveling east and north,” Simon said.

“But a shark wouldn’t be driving a car!” Meg protested. Then she looked at the Others. “A shark wouldn’t, would he?”

Henry shrugged. “It’s not likely any of the Sharkgard would be around here since there isn’t the right kind of water to accommodate them shifting out of human form. But if you’re seeing a shark to indicate a predator that’s headed our way and is a threat to children …”

Wondering if this was how prophecies were usually extracted from the visions seen by cassandra sangue, Monty continued writing his notes. He would have to pull them together in an orderly fashion while this meeting was still fresh in his mind—and he would have to receive Wolfgard’s permission to distribute this information in case the Others’ interpretation about a threat to children was correct.

“Fog and water hide the children,” Tess said, looking at the four women who had remained near the door, listening.

“Fog needs to rest a while,” Water said. “He has worked hard the past few days.”

Spring looked at Air and Winter. “Fog is not the only way to discourage travelers.”

There was something too alien about the Elementals to pass for human. It was more than the shape of the face and the look in their eyes. It was the sense that their connection to a tangible shape was tenuous at best—and they liked it that way.

“Yes,” Winter said. “We can let Fog rest for a day or two. Thunder and Lightning would enjoy a run.”

“So would Cyclone,” Water said. “And Whirlpool is here with us now.”

Monty shuddered. Lakeside was still recovering from the last storm. He didn’t want to think about what another one would do to the area.

“Won’t the flowers die if you summon a storm?” Meg asked, sounding worried.

The Elementals stared at her. Then Spring smiled, and the air in the room became warmer and fragrant. “A thin blanket of snow won’t harm what blooms in this part of my season. And wind cleans away the old to make way for the new.”

“And I’ll keep Cyclone and Whirlpool to the river,” Water said.

“We can fly with the storm at night, and let the Crows, Hawks, and humans on Great Island keep watch for the enemy during daylight hours,” Winter said.

Meg smiled. “That would be good. And then the cookies can drive the … Mr. Ferryman! He was going to talk to people in his village about making Wolf cookies.”

“Sounds like a container or two are heading our way,” Simon said.

“That leaves the scars and smoke,” Tess said. Black streaks suddenly appeared in her hair as she looked at Erebus Sanguinati, who returned her look.

“One of the Sanguinati died, didn’t he?” Meg said. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr. Erebus. Maybe if I’d made the cut sooner, I could have—”

“No.” Erebus looked uneasy. “The sweet blood is both wondrous and terrible. It should not be shed lightly.”

“But it has to be shed,” she whispered.

“That is something for you to discuss with Simon,” Erebus said gently. Then he added reluctantly, “And with the human bodywalker.”

Lorenzo sucked in a breath, but that was the only indication he gave that he now understood how closely the Sanguinati watched Meg Corbyn.

Simon picked up the envelope again. He pulled out the photo and set it on the table. When Meg paled, he put an arm around her.

“Her designation was cs783,” Meg said.

“What was her name?” Simon asked.

“She didn’t have one. Didn’t want one. She … she wasn’t like Jean and me. She wanted someone to take care of her and she wanted to feel the euphoria when she was cut. That’s all she wanted. She liked being kept in the compound.” Meg shuddered. “Outside was nothing but the images she had to learn to describe the visions.”

“So she didn’t run away like you did?”

Meg shook her head.

No one spoke. No one moved. The Others waited with eerie patience.

“The Controller must have sold her,” Meg finally said. “Or sent her away for some reason.”

“You can guess the reason,” Simon said.

“She wasn’t … The Walking Names weren’t always careful about what they said around us. I heard them once when they were evaluating some of the girls. They said cs783’s prophecies were accurate but lacked range. She couldn’t see prophecies the way Jean can.”

“Or the way you can?”

Wolfgard was circling around what they had all originally come to discuss.

“It is time to talk about what happened yesterday morning,” Henry said. “Meg, what do you remember?”

“I had a bad dream, a terrible dream, and I woke up screaming because I was so afraid.” Meg said. “I was so afraid, but I didn’t know why, and I had to cut so I could see the danger. I should have called someone first—”

Simon growled.

“—but I couldn’t wait. It felt like my skin would split on its own, the need was so overwhelming.” She touched the side of her nose. “Like my skin split the night I dreamed about the blood and black feathers in the snow.”

“So you put a towel on the bathroom floor, laid down, and made a long cut,” Henry said.

“I don’t remember the towel or lying down. I don’t remember choosing where to cut. I felt so desperate, I just … cut. Then I tried to swallow the words and the pain because that’s the only way we can remember a prophecy.”

“Pain?” It was the first time Lorenzo spoke since the meeting began.

When Meg paled and seemed unable to reply, Simon said, “There is bad pain until the prophet begins to speak. There’s nothing but pain unless she speaks. That’s how the girls are punished—they’re cut and then prevented from speaking.”

Monty looked at Meg’s left arm, recalling the crosshatch of scars he’d seen when she’d been brought to the hospital.

“That confirms some of what I’ve been thinking,” Lorenzo said.

“What else, Meg?” Henry asked. “What happened after the cut?”

“Simon came, and he was Simon,” Meg said.

Simon looked uneasy. “What else would I be?”

“You were Simon, and then you weren’t Simon anymore. You turned soft and gooey.”

He jerked away from her. “I did not!”

“You did! You were fine, and then you licked—”

Erebus sprang to his feet, a terrible look on his face. “We do not drink the sweet blood!”

Simon sprang to his feet, his canines lengthening. “That rule is for your people, not mine.”

“You licked up my blood,” Meg said, her voice trembling. “You licked my blood, and it made you sick.”

“Not sick!” Simon snapped.

Now Meg stood and stared at Monty. “That’s why all these bad things are happening, isn’t it? That’s what made the Crows too sick to get away.”

He’s afraid for her, Monty thought, glancing at Simon. He doesn’t want her to tell the rest of them what she’s figured out.

“Not sick!” Simon shouted. “Sit down, Meg, and stop being stupid, or I’ll bite you!”

“I’m not being stupid, and you can’t bite me!”

“I can nip really hard!”

With fascinated horror, Monty saw Erebus’s legs change to smoke, clothes as well as flesh; saw Vlad and the female vampire jump to their feet; saw Henry rise to tower over all of them, his strong fingers now ending in a Grizzly’s savage claws; saw Tess’s hair turn red with wide black streaks. Blair and Elliot were crowding the chairs, putting themselves between the vampires and Simon—who was totally focused on Meg.

The Elementals were the only ones who didn’t seem concerned, and Monty found their curious interest more frightening than being caught in the middle of a terrible fight.

Then Simon grabbed Meg’s upper arms, ignoring her startled cry of pain, and hauled her up to her toes. Even then he had to bend a little to be nose to nose with her.

“I don’t know how long the crazy female mood lasts when you’re in season, but you are not doing anything stupid until you can think straight!” Simon yelled. “And if you try being stupid then, I will bite you, no matter what.”

She stared into Wolf eyes that had turned red with fury. Then she grabbed his sweater. Seeing the way he winced, she must have pulled a couple of fistfuls of fur along with the material.

“Meat grinder,” Meg whispered. Her eyes, her face, her voice, were oddly blank.

Everyone in the room froze.

“Meat grinder dream,” she said. “Need the pain, need the fear to make the best meat. Hand in the grinder, chew it all up. Keep the meat alive while you cut and grind. He’ll find me! He’ll … Simon!”

He went down with her when she collapsed, cradling her in his lap while he licked her cheek. “Meg? Meg!”

Lorenzo shoved past Henry and Tess. “Let me have a look.”

One moment Lorenzo was kneeling on the other side of Meg, staring at an angry human male. The next moment, there was a man with a Wolf’s head holding Meg and snarling at the doctor.

“Let me help,” Lorenzo said. “That’s why you agreed to let me have some office space in the Courtyard, isn’t it? So I can help?”

Blair put a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “He’ll let you help.”

Monty applauded the doctor’s courage. He wasn’t sure he’d have enough nerve to put his hands that close to a Wolf’s teeth.

“She fainted,” Lorenzo said. “Her body’s way of protecting her from what she was seeing. Which explains some things about the euphoria these girls experience.” He eased back. “Is there someplace nearby where she can rest?”

“There’s a Wolf bed in the office,” Vlad said. “It’s just across the hall.”

“She’s coming around, but someone should stay with her,” Lorenzo said.

“I’ll stay with our Meg,” Winter said.

Blair squeezed Simon’s shoulder. “Simon.” A warning.

Wolfgard looked almost human by the time Meg opened her eyes.

“Your ears are furry,” she said.

Simon whined.

“Let’s get her settled,” Lorenzo said, getting to his feet. “Then I have some thoughts I’d like to share with all of you.”

Simon rose with Meg in his arms. Vlad led the way to the office, followed by Simon, Lorenzo, Winter, and the female vampire.

Monty sagged in his chair, exhausted by the adrenaline rush of the past few minutes. He didn’t meet their eyes, but he noticed the terra indigene were all trying to regain their balance. Erebus now looked fully human again, as did Henry. The black receded from Tess’s hair, and Blair and Elliot had resumed their place against the wall.

Do any of them realize that Simon Wolfgard is falling in love with Meg Corbyn? Monty wondered. Does Wolfgard understand his own response to the girl? What about Meg? How does she feel? What would the rest of the Others do if one of their kind did fall in love with a human?

Another complication, but what Meg described just before she fainted was more disturbing and, most likely, more immediate.

Simon, Vlad, and Lorenzo returned and took their seats.

“What happened to Meg?” Tess asked. “She wasn’t dreaming and she didn’t cut. Why did she see a vision? And why didn’t it sound like the visions she’s had before?”

They all looked at the doctor.

“I think she moved the wrong way, and a section of yesterday’s cut reopened enough to seep fresh blood,” Lorenzo said. “And that, in turn, opened her to prophecy … or allowed her to recall the details of a dream.”

“But Vladimir told me our Meg was in season and the blood scent should be politely ignored,” Erebus said, staring at Vlad.

“She is in season and testy about it,” Simon said.

Monty looked at all the males in the room and knew that a discussion of the human female’s reproductive cycle wasn’t something he wanted to have with any of them today—or any day. “Does a second source of blood explain the dreamlike vision?”

“No,” Simon replied. “Meg says sometimes the visions look like a clip from a movie.” He looked at Lorenzo. “If she saw prophecy from a cut and could speak, why wasn’t there any euphoria?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because it wasn’t a new cut?” Lorenzo took a deep breath before turning to address Erebus Sanguinati. “I’m not expressing an opinion about your taboos, just making an observation about shape-shifters and cassandra sangue blood.” He waited for Erebus’s nod before continuing. “I don’t think the problem was that Mr. Wolfgard consumed Ms. Corbyn’s blood. I think the problem was he suffered an overdose.”

It was unnerving to watch a room full of predators focus on a man.

“There is a lack of information about blood prophets, and that doesn’t make sense since these girls require so much medical care,” Lorenzo said. “But that’s a different discussion. The point is, I have no evidence to support what I say. Maybe you have something in your histories that would confirm my guesses.”

“Guesses about what?” Simon asked.

“The human body is a chemical stew. The body floods with different chemicals to respond to different situations. Flight or fight response. Fear, anger, aggression.” Lorenzo looked at Simon. “Ms. Corbyn had that gash on her chin when you brought her to the hospital. You were angry and aggressive that night almost beyond reason.”

Simon nodded. “I licked the blood from the gash, trying to clean the wound.”

“But yesterday morning, I think she began to speak prophecy shortly after you found her, and as soon as she began speaking, her body flooded with all the chemicals that create the euphoria. When you licked that blood, basically you were consuming a potent tranquilizer.”

“So Wolves react to Meg’s blood in different ways depending on whether she’s happy or scared?” Henry asked, studying Simon.

“Not just Wolves,” Lorenzo said. “Whoever is using these girls to create the drugs known as gone over wolf and feel-good have targeted humans as well. I think the prophet’s blood is, in a way, a wonder drug and a curse.”

“Namid’s creation is wondrous and terrible,” Erebus said.

“Poison frogs,” Monty said, thinking about a program he’d watched with Lizzy. “Not harmful if left alone, but the poison that exudes through their skin will kill anything that tries to eat them.” After a look around the room, he added hastily, “Not that I think Ms. Corbyn is like a frog.”

“But she is,” Lorenzo said. “Attack a blood prophet, frighten her or hurt her, and her body becomes a weapon against the attacker. I imagine if any of you consumed the quantity of blood you usually would from a kill, you’d all overdose to the point of turning on each other. The girl dies, but so do the attackers. Good reason to cross cassandra sangue off the list of edibles. On the other hand, you have bodywalkers, which means taking care of injuries. We use opiates to relieve pain in our hospitals. But early in our mutual history, when humans and Others first crossed paths, a girl whose blood could render someone passive to the point where a bone could be set or a wound stitched up would be, I think, a valuable asset. Something you wouldn’t waste. But too much of that blood, like too much of an opiate, could be deadly. Impossible not to overdose if you’re feeding while she was lost in the euphoria.”

“The prophet who was found in the basement,” Erebus said. “Any Sanguinati would know she is not prey and could not be touched.”

“We all sensed that Meg is not prey,” Simon said.

“What does all this mean?” Tess asked. “And what do we do about Meg’s need to cut?”

Lorenzo sighed. “I don’t know. As I said, there is very little information available about blood prophets. Maybe a girl with less ability could be weaned away from the razor. I’m not sure Ms. Corbyn can stop cutting at this point. If what I saw here is typical, cutting, and the euphoria that comes with it, might be the only safety valve her sanity has. I do feel, if she’s going to stay here with you—”

“Of course she’s staying with us,” Simon snapped.

“Then you need to work out a schedule, or come to some agreement with her. She can’t be alone when she cuts. This time the cut was deeper than it should have been, but it still wasn’t a serious wound. If she’s alone and slices through a vein or artery, you might not be able to get help in time to save her.”

“She spent her life in a cage,” Henry said. “We will not put her back in one. Not even to save her.”

“But we’ll take what you’ve said under advisement,” Tess added.

A dismissal. Meeting adjourned.

Monty let out a sigh of relief when Vladimir and Erebus left the room, along with the Elementals. Lorenzo went across the hall to check on Meg. Blair, Elliot, and Tess left a minute later, leaving Monty with Henry and Simon.

“Warn your people about the shark,” Simon said, sounding exhausted. “I’ll warn Steve Ferryman.”

“I think Captain Burke would appreciate talking to Officer Czerneda about this new information. Lakeside police can set up roadblocks if necessary.”

Simon nodded. “The Intuits will know if trouble is coming.”

Feeling battered, Monty excused himself and went downstairs to wait for Lorenzo. He called Kowalski, who was visiting with Debany and Merri Lee, and arranged to leave in five minutes.

Lorenzo came downstairs in four, so they walked out together.

“Quite a meeting,” Monty said.

“A lot more information than I expected,” Lorenzo replied.

Hearing a grim undertone, Monty stopped walking toward the patrol car. “After what you saw today, what chance do you think Meg Corbyn has?”

Lorenzo looked away. Finally he sighed. “With her sensitivity to prophecy, I think Meg Corbyn was doomed after the first cut.”