“The Wolves can’t find Meg’s scent,” Kowalski said. “Wherever she is, she didn’t leave the car anywhere around here. Nobody is shifting to human form to talk to me, but my impression is they didn’t find her scent in the car; just in the trunk.” He hesitated. “Captain, there’s blood in the trunk. I don’t think it’s enough to be life-threatening, at least for any of us, but it struck me as being more than usual for one of Meg’s cuts.”
That was disturbing but not surprising. Very few people would know how to properly cut a cassandra sangue to avoid her suffering physical or mental problems, and Cyrus Montgomery wasn’t one of them. Even if he had known, Burke doubted Cyrus would have cared.
“The Wolves may not realize that we’re miles from the spot where Meg escaped from Cyrus. Go up and tell them so they understand why they can’t pick up her scent. As soon as Captain Miller confirms the location, you and the lieutenant pack up the Wolves and get over there to start the search.”
“Yes, sir.” Kowalski didn’t move, just stared at the jaw.
“Don’t ask the question if you don’t want the answer,” Burke said quietly.
Monty had an ingrained courtesy and courage that had opened a door, allowing some humans to communicate with the terra indigene. Karl Kowalski had the grit to see the truth about what was on the other side of that door and still walk through it.
But did he have enough grit?
“Was he dead when they ripped off his jaw?” Kowalski asked.
Burke took a deep breath and blew it out. “No.”
? ? ?
So thirsty. And scared that Simon wouldn’t find her. The terra indigene weren’t the only wild things out here. And unlike the terra indigene who knew she wasn’t prey, other wild things might decide she looked, and smelled, pretty tasty.
She couldn’t run. Even if both legs worked, she’d never outrun predators who were used to chasing their dinners.
She didn’t have much strength or courage left, but she had enough for one more bit of defiance.
“Arroo!” Meg howled. “Arroo!”
I am here. I am here!
Then she noticed the odd silence.
? ? ?
They circled the small bowl of land, trying to decide what they were seeing.
Looked human but didn’t smell human. Didn’t smell like prey. Smelled . . . intriguing.
“Arroo!” it howled. “Arroo!”
Tiny voice. Puppy howl. All puffed up and challenging.
And hurt. Hind leg didn’t work right.
“Arroo!” it howled again. “Arroo!”
Tiny voice. Puppy howl. But brave to challenge them, to warn them off.
Was this the howling not-Wolf?
They circled the small bowl of land and considered the messages that had rippled under the skin of the world, that had been a scent in the air and a taste in the water.
It was not a Wolf, it was not prey, and it was howling.
Crows had told them there were Wolves in their territory, searching along the road. Was the not-Wolf howling for its mate? Tiny howl. Wouldn’t be heard.
One of them stayed to watch the not-Wolf. The others moved silently along the game trails, traveling far enough to ensure that they would be heard.
Then one of them howled.
? ? ?
Simon staggered into the middle of the road and stopped moving.
Meg was gone? Really gone?
He was supposed to find her. There was supposed to be a trail for him to follow.
But Meg’s scent wasn’t on the road or the grass, wasn’t anywhere except in the trunk of the car. Without her scent, he didn’t know where that Cyrus had left her.
Had no way to find her.
Lifting his muzzle, Simon howled the Song of Sorrow, joined by Blair and Nathan.
Then he stopped howling as a thought occurred to him. Nothing Meg had seen had indicated that he would lose her forever. She had escaped from that Cyrus and run into the wild country where a human couldn’t follow her. She would run until she found the place in the woods that had the grave and the cold hand—the place she had seen in the prophecy dream. She would get there and wait for him. So his Meg wasn’t gone; she was just lost until he found her.
If the humans couldn’t help him find Meg, the terra indigene who lived around here could—and would.
When he howled again, it was a Song of Battle. And it was answered.
? ? ?
Monty leaned against the patrol car, blinking away tears as he listened to Simon’s heartbroken howl.
Jimmy had done this to Simon, to all of them. Just another scheme that might have consequences for everyone but Jimmy. Except this time he had miscalculated and had paid dearly. Would his wife and children grieve, or would they secretly be relieved that he wasn’t coming back?
Gods, what a thing to wonder about a brother.
Monty wiped away the tears. This wasn’t the time for him to grieve or wonder. Meg Corbyn was still out there, somewhere.
He pushed away from the car and noticed how O’Sullivan immediately turned toward him. The ITF agent didn’t need to worry; he wasn’t going to try to see what had been left inside the crime scene tape. Not again.
Kowalski hurried over to join him.
“What’s our status?” he asked, taking in the Wolves’ body language as Nathan and Blair stood with Simon, howling: defeat.
“Captain Miller gave me the exact location where Meg escaped from Cyrus,” Kowalski said. “Sounds like a few men started at that point and searched along the edge of the woods for a couple of miles in both directions. So far, there’s been no sign of her.”
“How far could she travel?”
Kowalski snorted. “You’ve never played chase with the Wolves. Uninjured, I think Meg could cover some distance.”
And if that distance took her deeper into the wild country, they had no chance of finding her because there was no mercy in the wild country, no safety in the dark—even when the dark was the shade and shadows of the woods. The men who patrolled these roads knew that, and while a commander might risk his men if they had a solid location and were going in to rescue someone, no one would send in men to search for a body.
Simon howled again, but it sounded different now.
“Lieutenant, I have to tell the Wolves . . .”
“ARROOOOO!”
The Wolves froze. Burke and the local police officers scrambled onto the road.
“ARROOOOO!”
Based on the deep voice, whatever was out there was huge.
“Arroo!” Simon replied. “Arrrrrooooo!” He turned east, running past them as he headed down the road in the direction of the howl. Blair followed him.
“Nathan, wait!” Monty said when the other enforcer started to follow Simon. “What is it?”
The Wolf bristled with impatience, but Nathan shifted to a mostly human form. “The Elders found something.”
“Meg?”
“They’re not sure. It might be the not-Wolf.” He shifted back to Wolf.
“Wait.” Monty held up a hand. “Let us go with you as far as we can.”
Nathan growled. Not a welcoming sound.
“We have water,” Kowalski said. “And food. And a first-aid kit. When you find Meg, she’ll need all those things. It will be easier to carry them in the car.”
Nathan stopped growling. Monty decided that was as much agreement as they would get. Apparently Kowalski thought the same thing because he was behind the wheel of the patrol car in seconds.
Monty pulled open the passenger door, then stopped and looked at Burke.
“Go,” Burke said. “O’Sullivan and I will handle things here. Good luck, Lieutenant.”
Monty dove into the passenger seat. Kowalski had the car rolling before Monty closed the door.