Marked In Flesh (The Others #4)

Sirens. A harsh—and human—kind of howling.

Simon listened to all the voices around him, struggling to contain his rage. The Nadine hadn’t hurt anyone by selling bread and pastries to Tess for A Little Bite. In fact, by honoring the agreement the city had made with the Courtyard, her bakery was the reason the rest of the bakeries in the city had been allowed to continue.

Too many terra indigene from the wild country were close enough to the city to notice this fighting among humans. This wasn’t an understandable dispute—two bakers battling to show who was dominant and would control the bakery, forcing the loser to find a new place to work. No, this destruction was a deliberate attack against the Others as well as the humans whose dens and businesses were burning.

<Tess?> he called.

<Leave me alone, Wolf. I need some time alone.>

He wasn’t sure where she was, but he guessed she’d gone into A Little Bite to avoid being seen until she wanted to be seen.

“Simon, I’m going to let Kowalski and Debany use the phones in Howling Good Reads to make their calls,” Vlad said. “I’ll stay in the store with them.”

<Meg.> He wanted to stay with Meg, wanted to sniff the cut and assure himself that it smelled clean. But by now, Merri Lee would have put the stinky healing ointment on the cut and wrapped it in bandages to discourage licking.

“She’s fine.” Vlad nodded toward the back door.

Simon turned. She stood behind Ruthie and Merri Lee. The girls looked pale, smelled afraid.

“Meg should eat,” Vlad said. “The female pack should stay with her. They’re going to Meat-n-Greens. Grandfather Erebus will look after them. So will the Shady Burke.”

<The monkeys. They’re turning rabid.>

“Yes. But this disease has a name: Humans First and Last.”

Simon watched Jester Coyotegard navigate around Wolves and human males, his tail tucked between his legs. When he reached Simon, the Coyote rose up on his hind legs, probably intending to shift to human form. Then he caught sight of Meg and the other girls and dropped to all four paws.

Jester looked at Simon. <I’m delivering a question.>

<Ask.>

<Do you want them to act?>

Simon considered the question—and who was asking the question. Did he want the Elementals to respond to this attack on humans who honored the agreements that had been made between humans and terra indigene? If the Courtyard did nothing, would humans see that as a weakness, encouraging them to continue testing and attacking? But the terra indigene in the wild country, the terra indigene who were Namid’s teeth and claws, were already considering the elimination of this troublesome species, already wanted to purge humans from Thaisia.

That purge was coming. The Sanguinati and the rest of the terra indigene were abandoning the Courtyard in Toland. No doubt humans would think it was because the Others were acknowledging human superiority. But the Others weren’t leaving Toland because of the humans; they were leaving to get out of the way of the fury that was coming.

That was Toland. Jester and the girls at the lake were waiting for his decision about Lakeside.

Too many fires burning in the city tonight. More than the firemen and firetrucks could handle on their own.

Too many fires. And not enough fires.

<Simon?> Jester said. <Do you want them to act?>

Simon looked at Jester. <Yes.>

? ? ?

The fire at Nadine’s Bakery and Café was fully engaged by the time Monty and Burke pulled up halfway down the block.

“Where are the fucking firetrucks?” Burke snarled. He slammed out of the car, its bubble light still flashing, and opened the trunk.

Monty got out of the car and decided the answer to Burke’s question was obvious. All he had to do was look at all the flashing lights from the trucks as firemen tried to control the other fires farther up the street.

Monty scanned the street but didn’t see Nadine or Chris Fallacaro.

Burke slammed the trunk. He had removed his sports jacket, and his shoulder holster and weapon were visible over his casual shirt. He carried a length of pipe.

Monty had expected the gun. He didn’t want to think about why Burke carried a length of pipe in his official vehicle. “Captain?”

“You see her?”

“No. But there are a couple of parking spaces behind her building.”

Burke strode in that direction. Monty followed, keeping an eye on the building. Gods, what kind of accelerant had been used for it to go up this fast? Had Nadine . . .

They heard a scream. Recklessly ignoring the heat and flames, they ran to the back of the building. Nadine had reached her car. She’d had enough warning that she hadn’t been trapped inside the building, but not enough time to get clear of the pack of men who had come to burn her out. They’d smashed the car windows and were dragging her out of the car when Burke arrived, swinging the pipe with a fury that put two men on the ground and scattered the rest of Nadine’s attackers.

“Police!” Monty shouted, pointing his weapon at the attackers. “Down on the ground!”

A piece of burning debris fell between him and the attackers, and he didn’t expect them to obey.

“Lieutenant! Get her out of here!” Burke yelled.

Monty holstered his weapon and ran to the car. Nudging Nadine into the passenger seat, he started the car and barreled out of the narrow driveway, almost hitting a couple of people who were either coming to help or just there to gawk.

He drove past Burke’s vehicle and parked behind it, blocking in the cars that were already parked on the street. “Stay here.” He bolted out of the car, intending to back up his captain, when he saw Burke walking toward him. Watching Burke, he leaned down enough to talk to Nadine.

“Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?”

When she didn’t respond, Monty wondered if she was in shock. Did Burke have a blanket in his trunk?

“After you called,” Nadine said suddenly, “I got dressed and grabbed my purse, my keys, and the two file boxes where I keep all my important papers. I put the file boxes in the trunk and heard shouts, heard . . .”

“We’ll get a statement later. Right now—”

“They were going to throw me into the building, into the fire.” Her voice held a note of bewilderment. “They said that. They were going to throw me into the fire.”

Monty joined his captain as Burke opened the trunk of his own vehicle, tossed the pipe inside, and took the sports jacket out.

“You have a blanket in there?” Monty asked.

Burke pulled one out and handed it to him. Monty hurried back to Nadine and tucked the blanket around her before rejoining Burke. “Captain . . .”

“Lots of debris falling,” Burke said idly, putting on the jacket. “A couple assailants tripped on some debris during a criminal act.”

“Gods, Captain. What if they accuse you?”

The smile Burke gave him was beyond his usual fierce-friendly smile; it was terrifying. “You think any of those men are going to want the terra indigene to know who set fire to Ms. Fallacaro’s business and tried to kill her? I hurt a couple of them, but I wasn’t trying to inflict real damage, so I doubt the blows were serious enough that those men will see a doctor, let alone end up in the emergency room. But if they want to come forward so that a whole lot of beings can recognize their faces, I’ll take whatever penalties come from it.”

“What happened to those men?”

“Went over the fence into the next property. Or so I’m assuming.”

He hadn’t heard gunshots. At least Burke hadn’t shot any of them.

Monty’s mobile phone rang. “Montgomery.”

“Lieutenant, it’s Kowalski. We found Chris Fallacaro. He was at the university precinct, brought in with a handful of other young men who were fighting. I talked to Captain Wheatley. He’s of the opinion that Fallacaro was the victim of an attack and wasn’t doing much fighting to defend himself after someone broke his left hand with a hammer.”

“What stopped the fight?”