? ? ?
They had made a mistake. They had wanted to watch an insignificant two-legged predator that caused trouble for its own kind, had wanted to understand what that kind of creature might do that could pose a danger to the earth natives who guarded the edges of the wild country and came in contact with small human settlements—what kind of danger it might pose to the smaller shifters who were living in settlements with humans and might absorb too much human badness and become a small enemy to their own kind.
They had thought the male was a troublesome predator but not a particularly dangerous one. But the male had shown cunning and a disregard for his own young. Having observed the other humans who entered the Courtyard and had young, they had not considered that he would do such a thing.
And the not-Wolf was the Wolfgard’s chosen mate? When they told the Wolf to consider how much human the terra indigene would keep, they had not considered this because this was not how new forms of earth natives came into being. Earth natives did not mate with the form they were absorbing. They mated with others of their own kind who had successfully absorbed the form.
But the Wolf and the not-Wolf had changed things. Had changed each other. Could they make something this new? Would the world want what might come from such a mating?
The not-Wolf amused them, even when she sounded like a scoldy squirrel. Maybe then most of all. And the stories of what she and the earth natives did here traveled into the wild country. But if she disappeared, there would be one last, sad story—because they, the Elders, had not understood that the troublesome male was truly dangerous.
They had needed to learn too much too quickly, and they had made a mistake.
Now they would fix it.
CHAPTER 24
Thaisday, Messis 23
Jimmy turned off the car’s radio and kept driving. The news was still talking about the weird snowfall that snarled up traffic on Crowfield Avenue in Lakeside. But he’d heard nothing that he needed to be concerned about.
His plan had worked perfectly, as he’d known it would. And he’d been lucky. He’d been a couple of cars back from the delivery entrance when that ITF agent walked out of the delivery area and dashed across the street. By the time he pulled up to the Liaison’s Office, the agent was inside the Stag and Hare.
His luck had held when he pulled in fast and clipped that Wolf, and the scar girl ran outside to help the freak. She didn’t even look at him until he grabbed her arm. Then she tried to fight, so he pulled out a blackjack and gave her a tap on the head. He opened the trunk and dumped her inside, taking a moment to feel her pockets and remove the folding razor. When his back was turned for those few seconds, the Wolf managed to get up on three legs and tried to bite him.
He hit the Wolf over the head with the blackjack, putting everything he had into the blow. Once the Wolf was down, he jumped into the car and pulled out onto Main Street, tires squealing as other drivers hit their brakes and their horns.
He was gone in a couple of minutes, with no one the wiser.
He’d been tempted to take the toll road once he left the city limits, either heading east toward Hubbney or following the shoreline of Lake Etu south and west. But toll roads meant people manning the booths. While there was no reason for anyone to be looking for him—not yet anyway—and no reason to think there was anything suspicious about a dark-skinned man driving an older-model car, the little cha-ching in the trunk might realize why they weren’t moving for that minute and start hollering and drawing attention to herself. Couldn’t have that, so he’d taken one of the roads that had a route sign and was going in the general direction he wanted to go.
He’d been on the road less than an hour when he spotted a rest area and a sign that indicated the next village was another thirty miles away. The rest area looked rustic. The crappers were probably nothing more than seats positioned over holes in the ground, but if there was no one else there, the place would serve just fine.
He pulled into the rest area, then backed up as close as he could to the side of the small building that was designated for women. No other cars around, but he still checked the men’s side as well as the women’s before he opened the trunk.
“You evil human! You hurt Skippy!”
The cha-ching tried to sit up without permission. Jimmy slapped her hard enough to split her lip. The slap wouldn’t have fazed Sandee, not to the point of looking like she’d taken a hard blow to the head. He hauled his prize out of the trunk and hustled into the women’s side of the building. He pushed her down on the dirty floor and pulled the folding razor out of his pocket. He’d heard enough about the scar girls to know you cut them and asked a question. Then they gave you an answer.
But where to cut? He figured he could get a hundred—maybe even two hundred—dollars for a cut, but customers would want fresh skin. He studied the cross-hatching of scars on the top part of her left arm, then looked at the evenly spaced scars on her right arm.
She still seemed dazed from the slap, but when she saw him bring the razor close to her right arm, she started to struggle.
“No, don’t,” she said.
His hand tightened on her arm, a bruising grip. “You do what I tell you from now on.” He made a cut across several of the existing scars. Blood flowed from the wound, running down and pooling where his hand held her arm.
“We’re going to a city on the coast,” he said. “Tell me what roads to take to avoid being found by the fucking cops. Speak!”
Her gray eyes went blank, and her expression as she began to speak . . . He knew what it meant when a woman had that look. The little bitch needed a man, and she needed one bad.
First he had to concentrate on what she was saying. He didn’t need to write this shit down; he’d remember it just fine, but . . .
When she finished speaking, she sighed and stretched out on the floor.
Jimmy dropped the razor and shoved a hand down her pants. Gods! She was hot and wet and just begging for a quick fuck. He reached for his zipper, then froze when he heard car doors slam.
Shit!
He grabbed the razor and almost closed it and put it in his pocket. But he’d dropped it on the floor and he could see bits of dirt on the blade. If he cut her with a dirty razor she could get an infection and be worthless. Did he have time?
Male voices, going into the other side of the building.