Blood's Shadow: The Lycanthropy Files, Book 3 Read online

  “Any leads yet?”

  I shook my head. “It only just happened this morning. I’m waiting for the report from the detective, and I’ll go from there.”

  “That’s not like you, Gabriel. I know you as a man of action. You’re not one to think too much.”

  “I’ve grown up,” I snapped and would have said more except our drinks and snacks arrived.

  He held up his Scotch. “To those departed, both long and recent.”

  “Slàinte. So would you care to tell me why you brought me here? We could have discussed this at Lycan Castle.”

  He leaned forward and cradled the square Scotch glass with both hands. “I have my own concerns that may not be those of others. I’ve heard rumors that the Wizard Tribunal wants to pull Maximilian Fortuna from the Institute. From what I understand, he does his own thing, but they’re willing to do anything to make sure he doesn’t continue. Something about bad blood or some such.”

  “Blood magic,” I said and mimicked his posture. “It’s a forbidden art, but necessary for the CLS reversal, or at least that’s what they think. We trust that Doctor Fortuna can handle the ability without any bad effects.”

  “Have they actually tried it yet? Has he?”

  “The first batch of test subjects was just recruited. As for him, I don’t know. He seems a smart man, so I would imagine he would know his limits. And if he didn’t, his wife would.” Lonna’s concern flashed into my brain, but I pushed it aside for now.

  “It seems like you’re building your case, not to mention a multimillion dollar Institute, on a lot of what ifs.”

  “We have to try, David. Lycanthropy isn’t for everyone, and those who have been turned against their will deserve a shot at returning to a normal life.”

  “And what about those who were born with it? What if they want to give it up?”

  My jaw dropped. “David, are you…?”

  He shook his head. “Not me, but I know of some who are unhappy that the reversal process is only being offered to those who were changed through pharmaceutical means.”

  I’d heard rumors that some born lycanthropes would want to give it up. “How desperate are they?”

  “Desperate enough that they’ve been lobbying certain Council members hard that if they don’t get a shot at reversal, no one should.”

  Now I understood his motivation in bringing me here: others would know he stood with me, and I with him, but I still didn’t understand his agenda.

  “So why do you care so much?”

  He leaned back. “I see potential for other applications of this process, or parts of it. I won’t say what here, but I have my reasons for being behind you.”

  “And who isn’t?”

  “As much as Morena likes to talk progressively, she’s on the fence. Keith is also waffling now. He has a lot of young wolves in his district who want the choice even if they wouldn’t take it. Dimitri is firmly in support of the genetic wolves who want the reversal option, and Cora, being who she is, is against reversal for anyone at all. Finally, Tabitha tends to go with Morena, as you know.”

  “But the establishment of the Institute was a unanimous vote! I remember it clearly. How have we lost so much ground?”

  “Word of what it is and what it will do got out. You know how that goes.”

  “Aye.” Annoyingly, I did. The Council liked to talk a pro-human game because it ran counter to the Wizard Tribunal philosophy, but when the chips were down, it was every lycanthrope for himself and their biggest influencers. I’d long wondered if we’d gotten Cora’s vote because her husband had been out of town at the time. He ran the closest thing we had to a cult, and the only reason it had been allowed to continue was because his wife was on the Council. As for the others, they liked to appear altruistic, but I knew they had their own agendas.

  David’s knife cut through his egg with ease, and he poured H.P. Sauce over it. The image of LeConte’s blood dripping on to the floor came to mind.

  “So you think the incident today was an attack from one of the dissatisfied factions,” I said to keep the conversation going and prevent my mind from wandering toward uncomfortable memories.

  “Or a wizard or something else.” He took a big bite of egg, sausage, and sauce, and some of it dribbled on his chin. Or maybe that was drool because his eyes widened at something behind me, and he licked his lips. “Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” he mumbled once he’d swallowed most of his bite.

  “Let me guess, it’s a pretty girl.” I twisted around and saw that, indeed, it was. Selene Rial had just walked in the door, and she scanned the pub with an anxious expression on her face. I swung my legs to my right to exit the booth and go to her, but I felt an invisible hand on my arm.

  “Just wait,” the voice from the car said in my ear. Every single one of my hairs stood on end, and the room spun. I clutched the table for support.

  “Now you really do look ill,” David said. He pushed my Scotch toward me. “Or like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I haven’t seen one yet,” I managed to say. I caught a glimpse of red in the mirror at the back of the pub and observed Selene’s movements that way. She met up with a man with dark hair and followed him outside. I took a deep breath, the warmth in my chest at seeing Selene at war with the cold warning in my ear.

  “I never knew you for a fan of redheads,” David said. He’d abandoned silverware to swipe the egg through the sauce on his plate with his fingers, and I could picture the little boy he’d been. He likely hadn’t had such treats growing up under the oppressive thumb of the English in the late eighteenth century. I cut a sliver from my egg and tasted it, but it might as well have been fried sawdust. I pushed it away.

  “There’s something magical about them,” I said. “Hang on, she shouldn’t be here. I’m going to try and hear what they’re saying.”

  I pretended I had a phone call so no one would bother me on my way out and wandered outside. I hid behind a large shrubbery and closed my eyes. My wolfish senses increased. Some would say they came online, but I’d had them long before the computer age. My human ears might have wiggled, and psychically my wolf ears swiveled to and fro, picking among the sounds of the pub, parking area, and road like a child searched through pebbles on the ground to find the perfect, shiny one he’d glimpsed from above.

  There, I found it—her voice. She sounded distressed, and I once again had to resist the urge to go comfort her.

  “You weren’t very careful,” she said. “There were traces in the woods. It’s a good thing he was hot on the other trail so he didn’t find them, and I had to make sure he missed them on the way back.”

  “Well, he’s a handsome enough bloke.” The accent was English, the voice mocking. “I’m sure it was such a hardship for you.”

  “Stop kidding around. I can’t stay long. Lonna is having a gathering at her and Max’s place this evening so we can all ‘process’ the day.”

  “Get shitfaced drunk, you mean?” Again, the guy sounded amused in the face of her distress.

  “Have some respect,” she snapped. “Otis was a brilliant scientist. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

  A gasp nearly brought me from my hiding place, and I felt a hand on my wrist, warning me to stay.

  “Just remember whose side you’re on, love,” the voice said. “And what you’re risking.”

  “I have never given you reason to doubt my loyalty.” She sounded like she spoke through clenched teeth, and I imagined his hairy thumb and fingers digging into her arm, marking her pale skin with bruises. I nearly shook with the effort to not jump to her rescue.

  “You know better than to do that.” Now his tone was low and sinister. “What do you remember about the scene? Or did you manage to get any kind of impression before you allowed them to strong arm you out of the way?”

  She desc
ribed it as I remembered it with one exception. “The wounds at Otto’s wrists were puncture marks, and the skin was raised around them, like something sharp had been inserted and pulled out.”

  I would have to check that once the good detective had processed the body for autopsy.

  “So it seems he lost some blood before he lost some blood, but let us not say any more about it here. I’ve heard rumors that members of the Lycanthrope Council hang out here. Buggers have crazy sharp hearing.”

  “Well, Crickets is closed for renovation, and I couldn’t go farther out. I need to be at Lonna’s by six. The least you could do is buy me a drink.”

  I raised both eyebrows. Yes, I would definitely have to talk to Selene again and in more depth. I opened my eyes and looked to see who had grabbed my wrist. The sensation disappeared. No one stood with me, but cold air swirled around me before disappearing. With a look to make sure Selene and her companion wouldn’t see me, I exited my hiding place and returned to David’s and my booth.

  Chapter Five

  The mirror showed me Selene and her companion, a lanky-looking guy with a scar on one cheek, walking to the bar. She didn’t look comfortable in the role of co-conspirator. Nor did she look like she enjoyed his company, and I wondered what she had gotten herself into.

  “Learn anything?” David asked.

  “Only that Selene might have seen our victim before I discovered him.” I remembered the wrists had been torn, not punctured. “Or there’s another reason she remembers it differently than from what I saw. I hope to the gods she didn’t tell the detective that.”

  David popped the last of his egg in his mouth, and I looked at the rest of mine.

  “Do you want this?” I asked. “I’m not feeling up to it.”

  He switched our plates. “Got no wife currently,” he mumbled with his mouth full. “This is going to be dinner.”

  “I don’t either, but I’ve learned to cook.”

  We chatted about the advantages and disadvantages of marriage versus hiring someone to cook and clean, but I kept one eye on the mirror to see when Selene and the bloke she was with left.

  “Would you mind it if we tailed the guy?” I asked David once we paid up and sat ready to go. “I want to find out who he’s working for, or at least where he lives.” I didn’t mention that apparently he’d been at the crime scene or at least around the Institute when it happened. I wanted to get him alone and question him.

  “Fair enough. It’s been a long time since I played spy.”

  Selene and her companion moved toward the exit, and we slid out of our booth, careful to stay as out of sight as possible. The pub had gotten crowded with the after work regulars, so our primary difficulty was with evading others’ attempts at conversation. Some—our fellow lycanthropes—knew who and what we were. Others just thought we were friendly bureaucrats who worked for some government project at Castle Lycan.

  Once we exited the pub, I looked around for Selene’s red hair and saw a flash of it in the white car down the row she and her colleague had spoken in earlier. I ducked back into the doorway and peered around for her companion. A dark-haired figure disappeared down the sidewalk.

  I handed my keys to David. “Start the car and drive slowly behind me, keeping me in sight, but try not to draw attention to yourself.”

  “When I was playing this game, it was with horses and carriages,” he said with a grin. “It’s harder to be subtle when you’re clopping.”

  I clapped him on the arm and walked quickly down the sidewalk toward where I thought Selene’s companion had disappeared. The urge to chase down and vanquish my prey blossomed in my chest, and I had to suppress it so I wouldn’t change right there and ruin my clothing. My hearing remained extra sharp, although not wolf sharp, and I followed the sound of the man’s footsteps.

  He crossed at a light, and I darted after him, keeping to the late afternoon shadows. He looked over his shoulder, and I caught a glimpse of the red line running down his cheek. The tone of his rhythmic stride changed when he entered the old part of town and concrete transitioned to cobblestone. I glanced over my shoulder—it would be harder for David to follow us quietly. He stopped just short of the west port gate, and I nodded to him.

  My quarry’s steps quickened, so mine did as well, and I followed him into an alley beside the West Port Inn. He turned, and it occurred to me that cornering a suspicious person in an alley might not be the smartest idea just before a strong arm collared my neck. I clutched at it instinctively. It tightened, and spots swam in front of my eyes.

  “Think you’re so clever, don’t you?” the Englishman asked. “I knew you were behind me the whole time.”

  “Congratulations, you caught me,” I told him. “Now get your ogre to let me go, and we’ll talk.”

  “Consider this a warning, mate. Leave us alone, and we’ll do the same for you. But if you keep poking your nose into our business, then next time it won’t end so well for you.”

  “But I don’t even know who you are.”

  “Good.”

  A sharp pain blossomed on the back of my head, and everything went black.

  I woke to a bright light in my eyes and shoved it away. It turned out to be David shining the torch app on his cell phone in my face.

  “Not your smartest moment,” he told me and helped me sit up.

  My stomach heaved, but all that came up was acid. It took me a moment to find the right words to tell him, “I think I have a concussion.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Someone managed to rattle the brain inside that thick skull o’yours?” He helped me stand, and I leaned on him.

  “Trust me, it occurred to me that I shouldn’t have rushed in, but at least I got a good close look at the guy. At least I think I did. It’s all fuzzy now.”

  “Right, then. We should get you back to your flat. Or to a doctor.”

  “No.” I tried to shake my head, but pain lanced through my brain. “Okay, maybe, but not the hospital.”

  “There aren’t any clinics open this time of night. I could call the NHS nurse line. See what I should look for or do for you.”

  “Take me to the home of Maximilian and Lonna Marconi-Fortuna,” I said. “Max is a physician. Do you mind driving my car? I’ll pay for your cab ride home.”

  “I’ll figure out a way back to Laird Hall. Don’t worry.”

  He helped me to the car, and every little bump over the cobblestones jarred my brain. I felt like sleeping when we got to the smooth pavement but remembered something about that not being a good idea, so I told David, “Keep me awake until we get there.”

  “I canna hit you while I’m driving. I’d put this prissy German car of yours into a tree.”

  I laughed. “No, just talk to me about something interesting.”

  He snorted. “Like what?”

  I hadn’t felt whatever it was—my father, a ghost, something else—since the pub, and as much as it had perturbed me, I wished it would return. Maybe it would have kept me from following the scarred Englishman into the alley. No, I couldn’t blame some phantasmal force for my own mistake.

  “Tell me about my father. I was only a boy when he was killed and don’t remember a lot about him.”

  In the waning light—the sun set so very late during the summer, which always threw me off when I returned from my travels—I saw his hands tighten and relax on the steering wheel. “What do you want to know?”

  “Anything.” I closed my eyes against the perceived movement of the road and trees outside but then opened them again when I got dizzier. “Whatever you remember.”

  “He could hold more Scotch than any other lycanthrope I knew,” he said. “He had a laugh that boomed throughout any pub, no matter how small or large. That’s how he and your mum got together—she was a university professor, one of the few female ones, and she was at Marley’s one night with
a group of colleagues.”

  “I know her story,” I grumbled. “Get back to his.”

  “Well, he was also grumpy when he lost a fight,” he said with a smirk. “Couldn’t stand it. Not that it happened often.”

  “They caught me from behind.”

  He laughed outright then. “He’d take responsibility for his mistakes. That’s how he usually lost the fights—something stupid or showing off. He could never resist an audience.”

  “How long did you know him?” We were almost to the house Lonna and Max rented, and I almost asked David to circle around so I could continue to take advantage of his talkative mood.

  “I met him in 1800 when he came on as the Council Investigator. I’d just come out of hiding myself. The Order had shifted its attention to the American Colonies and their conflict and got stretched too thin to keep after us effectively.”

  “The Order? I remember something about them in Council records, but it’s been a long time.”

  I couldn’t tell with certainty, but he seemed to shudder. “And here we are, then. I’ll just leave your car here so you’re not blocking anyone in.”

  “Thanks.” I made a mental note, addled as it may have been, to ask him about the Order later. We’d always maintained a cordial tone with our Council dealings, but this was the first day he’d decided to open up, and he’d only whetted my appetite for information.

  We got out of the car, and he held me steady with one hand as we made our way up the front walk.

  “Be careful,” he said. “You remind me more and more of him as you get older.” With that comment, which could have been a warning or compliment, he disappeared into the night.

  I rang the bell and leaned against a post. Lonna opened the door.

  “Gabriel?” Her eyes widened when she saw my face. “Come in. Max!”

  I stumbled forward, and she and Max caught me and brought me to a sofa. The house smelled of Italian comfort food—lasagna, garlic bread, and the clean scent of salad with vinaigrette along with them. I guessed there was a chocolate cake somewhere. And of course, alcohol.