CHAPTER 11
Firesday, Maius 11
Simon stared at the two stinky children who stood between Pete and Eve Denby. Not an unclean kind of stinky; more that there were so many smells covering them he couldn’t identify them. Not without a closer, and more thorough, sniff that would have the parents snarling at him.
Not that he would blame Pete and Eve for snarling. All the humans who had returned to work this morning were pretending he hadn’t been “bite all humans” angry yesterday, but they were as wary of him as they’d been before Meg started working in the Courtyard.
He wondered if there was a way human males said they were sorry about something without saying they were sorry. Because he wasn’t sorry about being angry. All the terra indigene were angry about the blood prophet pups being killed. But he was sorry that he’d tried to bite Ruthie and Merri Lee, who weren’t the kind of humans who would drown puppies or kittens . . . or babies.
Neither were Pete and Eve Denby, who had shown courage by coming here—and a confidence that their pups would be safe with the Others.
Which brought him back to the children, who looked as if they were waiting for him to sprout fur and grow fangs.
Irritating whelps. As soon as Pete and Eve were gone, he’d chuck them outside.
Caw, caw.
And having them outside would make it easier for curious terra indigene to observe them.
“This is our son, Robert, and our daughter, Sarah,” Pete said. “Children, this is Mr. Wolfgard. He runs the bookstore.”
“Can you really turn into a wolf?” Robert asked.
“I’m always a Wolf,” Simon replied. “Sometimes I shift to look human.”
“Can you, like, get furry and stuff?”
Before he could decide if he wanted to answer that—and what did a young human mean by “stuff”?—there was a thump and a yelp at the back of the store. Then Ruthie hurried toward him, looking mussed and agitated, which was odd because she was usually a well-groomed female.
“Mr. Wolfgard?” she said.
First things first. Get the stinky children outside without upsetting the parents since he wanted them to look at the buildings that were for sale across the street. Then he’d deal with the thump and yelp.
“This is Ruthie Stuart, Officer Kowalski’s mate. She will show your pups around the Market Square,” Simon said.
Sarah giggled. Robert said, “We’re not pups; we’re kids.”
Simon looked at Robert and Sarah, then at Ruthie.
Kids. He’d heard Merri Lee say something about when she was a kid. But the word didn’t apply to her now because she was an adult, so it had never occurred to him that, maybe, humans had a little shifter ability that they outgrew as they matured. When she had said kid, maybe she had meant kid?
He eyed Robert and Sarah with more interest. “Little humans can shift into young goats?” Kids were tasty. Would human-turned-goat taste different from goat-goat?
“No,” Ruthie said firmly. “Humans can’t shift into any other form, and while human children are sometimes called kids, they are never goats.” She took a breath and looked at Robert and Sarah. “It would be better not to use the word ‘kid’ in the Courtyard because goats are edible and children are not.”
Simon watched all the color drain out of Eve Denby’s face.
“What time are you supposed to look at the buildings?” he asked.
Pete hesitated, then looked at his wristwatch. “We should go now.” He pulled a five-dollar bill from his pocket and held it up as he looked at his boy. “Share that with your sister and get a treat.”
Robert took the money.
Another thump from the back room followed by a loud snarled curse. Then Skippy Wolfgard bolted into the front of the store and spotted the money in Robert’s hand.
<Cookie!>
Before Simon could grab him, the juvenile Wolf with the skippy brain snatched the money out of Robert’s fingers, took a couple of quick chews, and swallowed.
Shit, fuck, damn, Simon thought. Grabbing Skippy’s tail, he hauled the Wolf toward him before glancing at the boy. No blood, no screaming, no missing fingers.
As Simon changed his grip to hold Skippy by the scruff, the juvenile’s eyes widened in surprise just before he barfed up the money and half a mouse.
Sarah squealed and jumped away from the mess. Robert leaned forward to get a better look.
<Blech cookie,> Skippy said.
“Sorry, sorry.” John Wolfgard rushed to the front of the store. “He got away from me.”
“He ate a mouse,” Robert said, sounding intrigued.
“You ate a worm once and barfed up the worm and a penny you must have swallowed along with it.” Eve sighed and looked at Simon. “Do you have any rags or something to clean that up?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Tess said, coming through the archway from A Little Bite.
Simon didn’t bother to swear. Tess’s hair was solid green and curling, a sign she was agitated about something.
The Denbys stared. Ruthie stood still. Skippy tried to squirm out of Simon’s grip and eat the regurgitated mouse.
“You. Go with her.” Tess pointed at the children, then at Ruthie. “You two go look at the apartment buildings.” She pointed at Pete and Eve, then turned to John. “You take Skippy outside. And do not tell Meg he ate a mouse or she won’t let him stay with her in the Liaison’s Office.”
Everyone rushed to obey, leaving him facing Tess over a puddle of barf.
“Find something to do,” she said.
This wasn’t the time to remind her that he was the leader. He edged around her and headed for the stairs. But he looked back and saw Tess watching him. She did not look happy.
Of course, he wouldn’t be happy either if he had to clean up the barf. It smelled worse than the Denby children.