Amos rubbed his leathery chin, which was tanned from hours under the sun. “Adopted, huh. Seems unnatural.”
I tilted my head and tapped my cheek. “Really? I’m more interested in learning how this information plays into your investigation.”
“Just trying to get the lay of the land, Hunter Sabre.” His lopsided smile revealed yellowed teeth. “You sworn to a family?”
“I’m the last Sabre, and the last of my mother’s family, the Wards. I have fealty to both families, even though I’m the only one alive of either of them,” I said.
Hunters—active ones, anyway—didn’t have the greatest life expectancy given our line of work. It wasn’t shocking that my parents’ parents had died when I was little, though my lack of relatives was pretty depressing as it meant two hunter families would die out if something happened to me.
Which can’t happen. I need to pass on these puppy pheromones so my offspring can needle werewolves for generations! Don’t want to let me live the lazy life I want? Fine, I’ll just make sure my offspring are a blight on you for centuries!
Shania looked distinctly uncomfortable as she clutched her keys, learning more about my sob story childhood than she’d ever imagined, I’m sure. Aeric had heard it before—you couldn’t keep anything secret from the Pack—but I was pretty sure the only reason he hadn’t tugged Shania away was he was live texting the entire Pack whatever Amos was saying.
“Glad to hear you have some hunter loyalties,” Amos said. “I’ll be expecting your cooperation on this investigation.”
The oily way he said “cooperation” made my bones shiver, but I forced a smile. “Of course.”
I glanced at Shania and Aeric again, when I happened to see a very welcome force of nature barreling down the sidewalk: Mayor Pearl.
She marched with the pointy shoulder pads of her suitcoat stabbing the air as two hunters—who each had to be fifty years her junior—scrambled behind her.
“Amos Fletching?” she shouted in her raspy voice.
Amos swiveled to face her, a smile slapped on his hardened face. “Indeed I am. You are—”
“Mayor Pearl. Your cars are parked in metered parking spots, and you haven’t put quarters in the machines. If you don’t add money, I’ll notify the police to have your cars towed.”
“Very well. We’ll get right on that,” Amos smoothly said. He nodded at the two hunters that had trailed Mayor Pearl.
They turned on their heels and ran back to the cars.
“Also, I will require proof of your Concealed Weapons License—from you and all of your little minions,” Mayor Pearl continued. “Weapons of any kind—including daggers, arrows, swords, spears, and the like—are not allowed in any public building, including town hall, the library, and the post office.”
“Huh. I see.” Amos turned and started walking away, but Mayor Pearl kept after him.
“There is a law that strictly prohibits loud and unnecessary noises during the hours of midnight to seven in the morning,” she said. “As outlined by chapter 15 orderly conduct…”
I swear Amos slightly hunched his shoulders as Mayor Pearl droned on, keeping up with him despite her toothpick legs.
“Wow,” Shania said.
“It’s good to see that Mayor Pearl hates all people, not just those of us who live in Timber Ridge,” I said.
Aeric laughed. “That’s the truth.”
“Are you going to be okay in the welcome center?” Shania asked. “That guy seemed kind of…intense.”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I said. “He was sent by the Regional Committee of Magic. He’s not going to try anything illegal. Besides, I can give him the brush off until work hours are over, and Moira is in her back office.”
“Okay.” Shania reluctantly started toward Howl-In Café. “Call me if he comes sniffing around. He gives me the creeps.”
“Got it—thanks, Shania. Bye, Aeric.” I waved to the pair, but as they made their way off to the café, I turned my gaze to the hunters—who were moving their cars.
They’re hunters. They might not be best buddies with werewolves, but they’ll be fair. Besides, Greyson and I didn’t do anything wrong. It’s that weird magic the wolf was dosed with that they’ll need to work on, and that’s important for the werewolves’ sake.
Even so…I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Amos Fletching was going to be a problem.
*
A wolf howled, and I ran as silently as I could across the meadow, sprinting to safety.
My lungs burned, and there was a stitch in my side that felt like a dagger was stabbing me between the ribs, but I kept running.
The sky was painted red from the setting sun—which had long disappeared behind the tall trees. It gave the meadow—some of the most dangerous territory I’d crossed all night—an ominous red glow.
Almost there. If I can just make it to the trees…
Behind me, another wolf howled—this one’s voice was clear and loud, projecting across the meadow.
They’d found me.
When I glanced back over my shoulder, I saw three wolves emerge from the shadows of the trees—their white fur swirled into their brown and gray coats was a stark marker in the evening light.
Larger than average wolves with the frightening intelligence of humans glittering in their eyes, the wolves blitzed across the meadow, running faster than I ever could.
A low growl closed in on me, but I laid out one last burst of speed, reaching the trees.
My hands scraped on rough bark as I shimmied up the closest tree.
The wolves snarled and snapped at my feet—which I yanked clear just in time. They circled the tree, their lips curled up to flash their white teeth at me.
“Yes, I regret to inform you that this evening, Hide of Hunter is no longer available on the menu.” I tried to bow at them like a waiter in an expensive restaurant, but it almost knocked me off balance, so I hurriedly fixed my grip and then scooted up higher so the maze of branches and leaves gave me better cover.
The largest of the trio—a yellow-ish gray colored wolf with black brushed over his back and tail and a narrower head—snapped at me.
“I made it fair and square, Rio!” I called down to the sore loser.
He growled as I climbed higher still.
“Throw a temper tantrum as much as you like, but I still made it.” I peered through the dark innards of the tree, waiting for my eyes to make the adjustment. (That was another standard hunter power—better night and low light vision.)
One of the wolves sneezed, and Rio snarled again.
I stayed silent—the game wasn’t over. I still had to make it to the lake.
Three times a week, I was “invited” to train with the wolves.
Wolves trained in a variety of ways—and it varied a lot from Pack to Pack.