Hours passed. The alpha had left his porch light on, but the little street was quiet, even on New Year’s Eve, and Jesse wondered idly if the whole street took vacations at the same time. He turned the car’s heater on whenever it got too chilly and sipped Diet Coke to keep himself awake.
By two in the morning he desperately needed to urinate and decided it was time to give up for the night. He wasn’t really surprised that they hadn’t managed to catch the nova, but he was disappointed anyway. It would have been nice to get a break in an Old World case. For once.
Jesse had already retracted his arm from Scarlett’s shoulders and was about to start the sedan when he decided he wasn’t going to make it all the way home without peeing. “Scarlett,” he said, and she made a sleepy annoyed noise at him. “Scarlett!” Jesse said again, shaking her shoulder a little.
“What?” she mumbled.
“I’m going to go . . . uh . . . well, I’m gonna go pee in the woods real quick,” Jesse said sheepishly. “Then we should go. He’s not coming tonight.”
“’Kay,” Scarlett replied drowsily. She hadn’t even opened her eyes.
Jesse got out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition in case she needed to run the heater again. He circled Will’s house, heading for the trees. It’s too quiet up here, Jesse thought, as he relieved himself. And damned cold, for Southern California. He zipped up and stretched out his neck, feeling stiff from the long stakeout.
Because of the silence, Jesse had no trouble catching the sound of movement far off in the woods. He froze, his head still bent at an angle, and listened. It had just been a rustling, but fast, like someone had thrown a rock through the trees. Jesse had spent his whole life in the city and had no idea if this was a normal sound for the forest or not. Maybe a big bird?
But no, the sound was coming again, from somewhere lower. He thought of the nova, and his hand went to the gun on his right hip. He was carrying the nine-millimeter Glock, loaded with the silver ammunition.
Now the sound was even closer, and it seemed . . . spread apart. More than one animal? Jesse peered into the woods, unnerved by the total darkness. He took a few steps backward on the lawn, back toward the lights of the house. Then he heard rustling again, much closer now. Jesse lifted his gun and took aim at the woods. Whatever it was, it was coming fast.
A huge wolf exploded into the clearing, and Jesse almost shot it dead on pure reflex. It was charcoal-colored from nose to tail, an efficient running machine that didn’t even slow down as it took in Jesse’s presence. He had seen wolves at the zoo, but those topped out at maybe eighty pounds. This one looked to be nearly twice that, and his finger instinctively tightened on the trigger. But Jesse understood immediately that if he took a shot, it would miss. The wolf was just too fast. Besides, it was moving away from Jesse. He wasn’t in danger, and he couldn’t be sure this was the nova.
Jesse forced himself to take a breath in and out, relaxing his hand on the gun when the second wolf burst out of the woods, and he almost fell down from the shock. This wolf had more traditional coloring: it was a dusky tan that faded down its legs into white paws. Impossibly, it was even bigger than the first, two hundred pounds or more. Jesse had a sense of immense power, of gorgeous, kinetic grace. Then he realized the new wolf was favoring one leg, and that there was a series of long rusty stripes down its body that didn’t seem natural—blood. It was bleeding.
The tan wolf paused in its chase to look at Jesse. Jesse’s stomach twisted with cold fear as the tan wolf gazed calmly at him. It wasn’t growling or anything, but it was so goddamned big that Jesse felt a rush of stupidity. What was he doing out here with this creature? He raised his gun automatically, and now the animal’s lip curled up, a growl starting in the back of its throat. Its canine teeth were enormous, almost as long as Jesse’s thumb. It moved laterally to put itself between Jesse and the charcoal wolf, which had stopped too, a few hundred feet away. With its enemy distracted, the charcoal wolf began to creep back in the direction of its pursuer.
Shit. Jesse didn’t know how intelligent the werewolves were in their other form, but it seemed like the tan wolf understood the gun. Very slowly, he put the gun back in the holster, hoping to pacify the big tan wolf, who must surely be . . . Will? Jesse cursed himself for not thinking to get pictures of the wolves in the LA pack. As his gun went down, the tan wolf’s growling softened, though it kept its eyes fixed on Jesse. The charcoal wolf saw an opportunity and leapt at its pursuer with the total, determined commitment of hunters. The enormous tan wolf sensed the leap and instantly turned to meet the charcoal wolf as it crashed into him with unnatural speed and power.
The two werewolves were a blur of dark and light movement, like animal fights in those old Looney Tunes cartoons, where there was just a cloud of gray smoke and the occasional paw or tail sticking out. Jesse jumped back to avoid being trampled, trying to make out what was happening in the weak light from Will’s porch. The tan wolf was trying to protect itself, but not really attacking its smaller opponent with any seriousness. The charcoal wolf, on the other hand, was enraged, launching forward to snap at the other wolf’s legs and hindquarters. The tussle took both animals a few yards away from Jesse, and he began to edge back toward the car.
But before he’d gone very far, the wolves separated and the charcoal one let out a hacking bark of frustration. Then it froze, blinking, and Jesse was struck by how eerily human the gesture was. The werewolf had an idea. It wheeled around, snarling, and made a sudden beeline for Jesse.
“Shit!” Jesse yelled, scrabbling for his gun again. He got it out but couldn’t get the safety off before the charcoal wolf had two paws on his chest.