PP’s head turned back to the house at the same instant that I smelled werewolf. I managed not to draw on my host, and also to pivot slowly instead of whirling, but it was a near thing. I had thought Sarge had meant he was going to change clothes to start this hunt, but he had taken me literally when I said he’d be leashed. A big gray wolf sat on the back deck staring at me with eyes the color of rainbow moonstone. Christabel’s hand was on his head, petting his ears as if he were a dog. Whatever magic had hidden his scent, it was gone now, with him in wolf form.
Previously, I had seen Sarge in his wolf from only at a distance, in poor lighting. Seen closer, his coat was silver, each hair black-tipped, black legs and tail, a silver brow with a black stop and a black stripe that ran down his nose. He nudged Christabel, who knelt and strapped him into a harness like PP’s, but his was looser and had a strap up the tail, which would keep the harness in place while in dog form but allow him to change to human form while wearing it.
Once he was harnessed, Sarge picked a leash up in his mouth and carried it to me. As he left her, Christabel caught my gaze and held it with hers. She grinned, her mouth full of sharp, pointed teeth. I nodded once. I understood. If I didn’t bring her family back unharmed, she’d find me, kill me, eat me, and take my scalp for her trophy wall. Though maybe not in that order.
Sarge stopped at my feet and moved his eyes from me to the airboat. I untied the rope and put my back into getting the boat offshore, into the water. When the bow was still on sand, Sarge whuffed and I stood straight, arching my back to loosen the muscles. Sarge and PP leaped into the boat and I followed. There were seat-belt-like harnesses suitable for big dogs on the front bench seat, and seat belts for humans on the upper seat. The key was in the ignition. A storage trunk ran the width of the johnboat, just in front of the prop. There was plenty of gasoline in the tanks, and the steering mechanism was the same as another I’d driven, a stick that controlled the rudders. In moments, I had the canines belted in, and we were practically flying toward the last-known location of the escaped prisoner and his two hostages, the roar of the airboat deafening. There would be no sneaking up on anyone in an airboat.
***
Sheriff Nadine LaFleur was onshore, with haphazardly parked cruisers, a crime scene van, and local law enforcement behind her. Lots of cops and deputies, male, female, all races, dressed in a mélange of uniform styles, street clothes, and business attire designating their branches of law enforcement. The gang’s all here, I thought. Media vans were in the distance with telephoto lenses, trying to see what was going on.
I beached the boat near the small pier off Highway 56, known to the locals as Little Caillou Road, Nadine’s eyes checking out the canines. She ignored PP, as if she’d seen the dog before, but the wolf was a different matter. Nadine wasn’t happy to see him.
As the noise of the airboat abated, law enforcement types spread out, all armed, most carrying shotguns in addition to their sidearms, two with sniper rifles. Every single one of them turned weapons in our direction.
I did my best to look innocent, but the black leather jacket, vamp-killers strapped to my thighs, and bulges of more weapons beneath my clothes didn’t help. Sarge made a barking sound and grinned at the humans like a frisky pup. PP took her cues from him and sat up, barking, looking as pretty as a buffalo-dog can.
“Don’t tease the humans, Fido,” I said. Sarge’s mouth snapped shut and the look he gave me was not playful. “What?” I murmured, for his ears only. “You want me to call you Sarge?” I could see all sorts of things flicker through the wolf’s eyes before he vocalized softly and ducked his head. I’d made my point. I smoothed my wind-tangled hair, keeping my hands visible, tucking the ends into my braid as Nadine approached. The stocky, dark-haired woman was frowning, the stink of hatred and fear in her wake. The cops didn’t like werewolves. Which was okay by me. I didn’t like them either.
I studied the group as they advanced on the airboat. There were dogs and multijurisdictional vehicles and boats and gear. The LEOs were preparing to start a search and rescue, a SAR, for John-Roy and the kidnapped women, but they hadn’t left yet, which was good. Their passage would mess up the air currents and any scents the wind might carry. We were just in time. Ducky.
“What is that?” Nadine jerked her chin at Sarge.
“Sarge loaned me PP, and the wolf came by boat.” Which was not a lie. Go, me.
“Sarge is always willing to loan his dog. That wasn’t my question. Where did you get the werewolf and why don’t I just shoot him where he sits?” One of the snipers raised his rifle and took a bead on Sarge.