“Because you saw Joe’s face.” And if you saw his face, you saw the rest.
“It really happened?”
“Yes.”
“Does Simon know?”
“He knows Joe is dead, but he didn’t see . . .” Couldn’t finish.
“All right. I’m going to the office. There will be mail, maybe some deliveries. But I won’t look at the Lakeside News or turn on the radio.”
“Okay.” The female pack was bound to see something. He couldn’t stop all of them from seeing what had been done, but Meg didn’t need to see it again. “I’m not sure if e-mail is getting through. The phone lines have been jammed since yesterday. But I’ll try to get through to Jackson and find out how Hope is doing.” And he’d check with Steve Ferryman and find out how the five young cassandra sangue were doing—and Jean.
? ? ?
Simon hadn’t intended to go to Howling Good Reads today. He hadn’t wanted to do anything human except spend time with Meg. Outside.
But he ended up at the back door of the bookstore before he realized he didn’t have his keys. Or clothes. He found the back door of A Little Bite open and crept inside, wary of running into Tess if she was in a deadly mood.
Instead of Tess, he found Nadine in the back room where Tess sometimes baked cookies.
“Couldn’t sleep, so I’ve been here a while,” Nadine said. She tapped a container that sat on the edge of her worktable. “Special delivery from Eamer’s Bakery. Wolf cookies. I guess they were up early too, working. A lot of us are going to be up early. I heard you lost a friend yesterday. I’m sorry for that.”
He whined to let her know he’d heard her. Then he went to the lattice door, let himself in to Howling Good Reads, and went up to the office. Not to deal with paperwork or read e-mail. He had added a simple wooden trunk—simple if you didn’t count the carving Henry had done on the lid—to the office furniture as a place to store a set of clean clothes and a pair of shoes. He dressed and went back downstairs. He’d check the stock, shelve a few books. Wouldn’t stay long since he hadn’t told Meg he was coming to the store and she’d be expecting him at the apartment.
As he turned toward the stock room, he heard the familiar slap of paper on pavement. Copies of the Lakeside News.
Fetching the spare keys from the office desk, he opened the front door, grabbed the newspapers, and dumped them on the checkout counter. The headline said, “Humans Triumph!” Beneath the words was a photo that filled half the front page.
Simon stared at the photo. Stared and stared. Then he whispered, “Joe.”
? ? ?
Pouring himself a large mug of coffee, Monty half listened to the television news report and ignored the looks from some of the other police officers packed into the station’s break room to hear the news and see the “graphic proof” of the Humans First and Last movement’s triumph.
“Humans have taken possession of thousands of acres of prime land through the HFL’s audacious strike against the terra indigene, creatures who have held a chokehold on Thaisia for decades. But not everyone is applauding the HFL’s actions toward land reclamation. One rancher near the Midwest town of Bennett had this to say.
“‘They’re damn fools, the whole lot of them. My family has been raising horses and cattle here for four generations, and we have never had trouble with the terra indigene.’
“When asked about the loss of livestock to Wolves, Stewart Dixon told the reporter, ‘It’s called rent.’
“And now here’s a recap of the photographs that were sent to news stations all around the continent.”
Monty watched the photos appear on the TV one by one. No one spoke, not even the officers who had supported the HFL. Then the last photo appeared and remained on the screen.
“Oh, gods,” Monty whispered. The mug slipped from his hand. Had Meg Corbyn seen . . . ? Of course she had.
He looked toward the door where Burke stood. Yes, his captain recognized the Wolf on top of the mound of bodies. Burke gave him a nod.
“Lieutenant?” Kowalski said, suddenly beside him. “I’ll get the car.”
Monty walked out of the break room, his mind racing. The other photos had been terrible, but it was the half-shifted, recognizable face of Joe Wolfgard that made the loss of the Wolfgard in another part of Thaisia personal.
He doubted Simon Wolfgard would want to see a human today. He doubted Simon would want to see a police officer or be asked what ramifications these actions might have for Lakeside. But today he wasn’t going to the Courtyard as a human or a police officer. Today he was going as a friend.
? ? ?
Burke moved aside when Montgomery and Kowalski hurried out of the break room. Then he filled the doorway, preventing anyone else from leaving.
“Gentlemen, there is a war coming. Despite what the HFL may want you to believe, it won’t be against the terra indigene. It’s going to be humans against humans. It’s going to be between those who recognize that working with the Others is the only way to survive on this continent and those who mistakenly believe that killing the shifters will win us anything. It’s going to be between the so-called Wolf lovers and the HFL supporters.”
Burke scanned the room, noting who met his eyes and who looked away. “So I’m telling you now. If any of you, after looking at those pictures, are thinking of putting on an HFL pin again, I want the paperwork for your transfer or resignation on my desk first.” He gave them all a fierce smile. “I know. I’m not the station chief. I’m just the patrol captain and I don’t have any say about the personnel under other captains’ commands. But I’m telling you here and now, if you can’t—or won’t—fight alongside the Others in order to save this city, I don’t want you in this station, because being divided within the ranks will kill us all. I can’t do anything for the rest of the continent, but I’m going to do everything I can to save Lakeside, and, if the gods are merciful, saving Lakeside might help Governor Hannigan keep at least part of the Northeast Region open to human habitation.”
He turned away, then turned back. “Don’t try to call my bluff about this. I am standing with the Lakeside Courtyard because I think it’s the only way to save the people of this city. If you can’t stand with me, you need to be gone by the end of the day.”
He walked to his office and wasn’t surprised when Louis Gresh came in right behind him.
“That was quite a speech,” Louis said.
“You think so?”
“You usually get what you want when it comes to having men transferred out of this station, but . . . a humans-against-humans war when there’s another potential enemy?”
“They didn’t think it through.” Burke settled in his chair. “You kill off one kind of predator, you leave a void. Sooner or later, something will fill that void, and in this case, I think it will be sooner rather than later. The HFL wants to talk about land reclamation? They have no idea what they started—and I have no idea who among us will still be here to see where it ends.”
? ? ?
Deciding on visible police presence, Monty asked Kowalski to park in the Courtyard’s customer parking lot.
“Check on the Denbys, warn them about the news reports,” Monty said.
“Sure not something the children should see.” Kowalski seemed about to say something more but changed his mind.
Monty smiled. “I’ll check on them after I talk to Simon.”
“Not sure what all they’re doing, but the girls are working with Meg at the Liaison’s Office this morning, and Theral is at the medical office.”
“Then check on them too.”
The lights weren’t on in Howling Good Reads, but the front door was open. That door wasn’t usually open anymore, so Monty went in cautiously, his hand brushing against his police issue revolver.
“Simon?”
A sound. Something moving on the other side of the main display table.
Careful, careful. He could draw his weapon against a human intruder but not against a Wolf. Not today.
Then Simon stood up, grabbing the table for balance.
“Simon.”