Where was I going to get flaming arrows so close to a holiday?
"I have supplies in my trunk," Summer said.
Sometimes I swore she could read minds, though she denied it.
"What kind of supplies?"
"You haven't looked?"
"I've been a little busy."
"Make sure no one else is around when you open it. You could get arrested."
"Terrific." If I'd gotten stopped for speeding, which had been a distinct possibility since I'd hauled ass all night, I cringed to think what the cop would have seen if he or she had decided to pop the trunk.
I'd have wound up in jail since I didn't have the ability to shoot magic "forget me" dust from my fingertips like Summer did. That lack was becoming more and more annoying as time passed, but I still wasn't willing to sleep with Summer's fairy friend to get it. Not yet anyway. Who knows what I'd have to do eventually.
"Do the luceres change back into humans when the sun comes up?" I asked. Regular werewolves did.
"They don't have to," she said. "Luceres are ruled by a spell and not the moon. They can stay in wolf form as long as they want."
Which meant I could keep hunting once dawn broke, if they cooperated and remained wolves. However, I doubted the luceres would continue to run around with ears and no tail once they knew I was in town and capable of killing them.
Sure, I could probably identify most of the luceres since I'd seen their human faces in my vision, but shooting people—even if they weren't people—with burning arrows tended to make me seem like the psychotic murderer. Go figure. Better to finish this business tonight.
After filling the tank, I pulled the Impala around the back of the station to a grassy area, which I assumed was used to give any pets a chance to relieve themselves. Right now it was deserted, so I opened the trunk and found all sorts of goodies.
Rifles, shotguns, pistols, and ammunition for each one. Swords and knives in a vast array of metallic shades—silver, gold, bronze, and copper. But the best find of all was a crossbow.
I lifted it gently, almost reverently. A crossbow was more accurate than a compound bow, which was why, in Wisconsin anyway, only disabled hunters or those over sixty-five years old could get a permit to hunt with them. Combine a crossbow with a fit young man and deer didn't have a sporting chance. I didn't think they had much of a chance anyway, but no one had asked me.
I wasn't sure what the rules were on crossbows in Illinois, but it didn't matter. Owning a crossbow wasn't illegal, only hunting without a permit for one was. And since I was hunting people who'd turned into wolves ... well, if anyone caught me, I'd have more problems than my lack of a license.
Next to the crossbow lay a quiver of strangely made arrows—they appeared wrapped in white linen—and several bottles filled with clear liquid.
I took a whiff and nearly choked. "Gasoline."
Sheesh. I was lucky no one had rear-ended me.
Considering Jimmy drove a Hummer with a similar cache of weaponry, I had to think all DKs were similarly decked out.
I shut the trunk, then climbed inside the car and made a wide turn until the skyline of Chicago became visible. Closing my eyes, I recalled my vision. To have seen the Sears Tower and the fireworks at Navy Pier in the way that I'd seen them, the luceres had to have been—
"Right around here." I tapped the map.
Many Chicago suburbs were upper middle class and similar to the place I'd seen in my vision. I had little choice but to drive around and hope something struck a familiar chord. In a tiny hamlet called Lake Vista something did.
The sun was falling fast, darkness only an hour away at most. The panic had returned, pulsing behind my eyes like the low drone of flies on a hot summer day.
Lake Vista wasn't truly a suburb, more of a development—a huge one—situated outside all the other city limits. I had a feeling they'd applied, or would apply soon, for a charter to create the village of Lake Vista.
If they lived long enough.
I toured the streets—up, down, crosswise—and at last I saw the building where the luceres had "become."
Not wanting to be too obvious, to scare them off, if that were possible, I parked a block away and strolled in that direction. From the side of the building, I could see the city skyline in the distance. When I turned and glanced back toward Lake Vista, the array of houses, driveways, bikes, and trikes made me shiver.
This was the place.
A quick glance inside revealed an empty building. A small sign named it lake vista community center.
Since I needed to move on before someone became suspicious, I headed for the Impala. The suburb seemed nearly deserted, many of the families no doubt headed for the lakefront and the spectacular fireworks display.