Standing in the falling light, I dressed in the chill of early evening, feeling the familiar gnawing pangs of hunger. I could have gone back to the extra pair of flops in the mud, but I could also get them next time. Hunger helped me decide on not going back into the swamp after the flops, though the thought that I was littering on my hunting grounds bothered me.
Dressed, warmer, I got in the cab, feeling pensive. There was a protein bar in the glove box. Three, actually. I ate them all without tasting them, which was likely a good thing. I could have bought Popeyes and now be eating cold fried chicken, but I hadn’t. Not poor planning, just . . . I hadn’t wanted to stop.
The drive back to the city was silent, the radio off, no music through the system. Thoughtful. Worried, just a little. About Beast. About Ayatas. About tonight and my schedule. It was full and it was all going to be difficult.
When I got home, I found a parking spot a half block down the street and walked to my door in the early dark, barefooted, carrying my muddy gear. Sniffing for the scent of lemons, the smell of werewolves. But the scents were the same as ever: food, urine, dust, mold, water on the muggy breeze. Because I was so close to Beast, I smelled him even before I got to my door. The floral scent of Ayatas.
He was still in my house.
Moving silently, I keyed open the door and slipped inside. The lights hadn’t been turned on in the foyer and there were enough shadows to hide in. I smelled Ayatas, Eli, Alex, Edmund, and Gee, pretty much the main members of my vampire clan and my maybe-brother. And the garlicky smell of Bodat. Their voices came from the kitchen and the living room. I moved into my room and showered off the remaining mud. Dressed in a long black skirt and jacket and a starched white shirt. I made up my face, going for dramatic, with black eyeliner and lots of mascara though it made my eyelids feel heavy. Scarlet lipstick. Working clothes.
I pulled on a thigh rig weapon harness and weaponed up, adding the Mughal Empire dagger Bruiser had given to me, on a small harness on my hip. The hilt was gem-set jade; the scabbard was velvet-covered wood. The knife had been made in the 1700s, in India, with a slightly curved blade, a central ridge, and double grooves. It had a gold-overlaid palmette and cartouche at the forte. I had made it my ceremonial blade, wearing it when I wanted to make a statement. The blade was watered steel and it was said that it had magic, being charged with a spell of life force, to give the wielder the ability to block any opponent’s death cut. Bruiser had said about the spell, “Pure balderdash, but it makes a nice tale.” Still. Sometimes a history and reputation were magic of themselves.
Barefooted, I walked silently into the living room. Alex and Bodat didn’t even look up. They were bent over several tablets and laptop screens, with the big-screen TV in front of them divided into various views. It was all security video of HQ. I didn’t bother to study anything. Pulling on Beast’s stealth and ability to move unseen, I stepped into the opening of the kitchen and stood there. Watching. Listening.
Gee was at the table, sitting in my place. Edmund was standing near the sink, opening a bottle of wine. Eli was taking a huge chicken pot pie out of the oven. I knew the menu by the mouthwatering aroma. Ayatas was standing with his back to the side door, at an angle where he could see all the others but couldn’t see me, wouldn’t see me unless he turned his head or smelled me and searched me out. I was counting on the chicken pot pie—which smelled heavenly—to cover my scent. Ayatas would have a skinwalker’s scent glands, mostly human, whereas Beast had taken in the genetics of a dog’s scent glands and the part of the brain that analyzed and remembered the scents, from when we shifted to bloodhound. She was way better than any old skinwalker.
Littermate, she thought. There was a sound of longing and wonder in the single word.
Ayatas said, “You were telling me about the video footage.”
“No. I wasn’t,” Eli said.
“I could bring you in for questioning.”
“You could. You won’t.” He set the Dutch oven on the table, on a wood rack I hadn’t seen before. My stomach cramped. I hadn’t eaten much after the shift and I was starving.
“And why wouldn’t I?” Ayatas asked.
“Because Leo has his talons in every law enforcement agency and politico in the state and a good many in D.C. Because you want Janie on your side. Taking me in, Alex in, Jane in, is not the way to build good relations. It’s a way to burn bridges you haven’t decided to burn yet. Bridges with Leo. Bridges with Jane. Bridges with Soul.” Eli took a long-handled spoon and cut into the pot pie’s crust, releasing steam and chickeny goodness. I pressed a hand to my middle. “You’re a smart guy,” Eli said. “But you’re also stupid.”
On the surface, Ayatas didn’t react with offense, but his scent changed. A faint spike of anger. Insulted.
“Here’s what I think happened. You came here in your capacity as PsyLED to oversee the Sangre Duello. Smart. Necessary even.” Eli looked at Ayatas to make sure he was listening and back to his pot-pie work. “You had heard about Jane Yellowrock. Seen some YouTube video. I figure you had researched through PsyLED databases and questioned your family about the long-lost sister. And then Soul came into the picture and gave you more info, more than you found in the databases. The Europeans came. Things heated up here. You decided to apply for a job transfer, with the opportunity to meet Leo, and, on the side, to see if Jane is that sister. Combining two purposes into one trip isn’t stupid by and of itself. But that made Jane an afterthought.” He looked at Ayatas again. “Just a note of caution, counsel, whatever—Jane Yellowrock is never an afterthought.”
I smiled, seeing Eli’s tension as he said that, his jaw tight. No one else might notice his anger, but I did.
“If you put Janie first you might get somewhere. If you can figure out how to do that, and still complete your investigation, you might like your life a lot better and live a lot longer.” Eli began to scoop up servings into the bowls around the table. We were having the pie, salads, and a loaf of herbed bakery bread. Enough for all of us, but I was so hungry that I wanted to kick everyone out and eat it all myself.
“Live a lot longer. Is that a threat?” Ayatas looked amused. He was leaning against the wall beside the butler’s pantry, where we kept our tea and coffee equipment. He looked relaxed, but his scent said otherwise.
Gee said, “No. A fact. The Mithrans in NOLA are always dangerous. Apex predators.”
“And Jane,” Eli said, “is their Dark Queen, which means she’s the biggest, baddest cat in the city.”
My eyebrows went up. Me? That was crazy. Wasn’t it?
“So what is the Dark Queen?”
“Not totally sure,” Eli said. “A mystical, powerful creature that can use all sorts of magical items, witch, vamp, were. She can take positions of command and authority for herself, rearrange power structures. Sorta like a wild card in a full deck.”
“You’re calling her a Joker?”
“More like a Queen of Spades with the powers and unpredictability of the Joker.”
I smiled in the shadows. I liked that description. It fit most of what we knew about the position of Dark Queen.
Ayatas said, “She shifted into a half cat / half human. I have to find out how she did that. How she shifted into parts of something.”
“For the agency? Or for yourself?” Eli nodded to Ed. My primo began to pour white wine into the glasses. Eli went on. “Because I’m guessing you can’t do what Janie did and you want to find out how. You want to learn how to shift into fighting form yourself.” Eli smiled, a tiny quirk of his lips, and carried the Dutch oven to the sink, then stood straight, his hands at his sides. It was the smile that warned me. And warmed me. He said, “You may be Janie’s brother or you may not. But you’re a selfish bastard. And we won’t let you hurt Jane. That? That is a threat.” He raised his voice so Alex and Bodat could hear. “Dinner is served.”
I waited a good five seconds before rounding the corner. “I hope there’s enough for me. I’m hungry as a Beast.” It was a way to tell Eli that I’d been a cat and needed to replace calories used up in shifting.