When I woke up later in the now clean apartment, the light outside had turned the deep purple of late evening.
Crest hadn't called. Too bad.
An interesting thought occurred to me while I lay for a few extra precious seconds in my bed, staring out the barred window at the encroaching twilight. I held on to it, padded, to the kitchen, and called the Order, hoping Maxine was still there. The phone was turning into my weapon of choice.
Maxine answered.
"Good evening, Kate."
"Do you always work late?"
"Sometimes."
"If I asked you to check on something for me, would you do it?"
"That's what I'm here for, dear."
I told her about the missing women. "The cops are involved so there has to be a file on at least one of those women, Sandra Molot. I need to know if they did a general homing spell using one of her personal effects. And same for the other three."
"Hold on, dear, I'll try to find out."
She put me on hold. I waited, listening to the small noises coming over the empty phone line. The night had fallen, and the apartment was dark, save for the kitchen, and eerily quiet.
Tap. Tap.
Something scratched at my kitchen window. It was a small sound, like a dry twig striking the glass.
I was on the third floor. No trees stood close to the building.
Tap.
Silently I backed into the hallway and picked up Slayer, cradling the phone between my cheek and my shoulder.
The line came alive and I almost jumped. "Jennifer Ying has no file," Maxine said.
"Aha." I turned the light off, drowning the kitchen in darkness.
Tap. Tap.
I moved to the window.
"They do have files on the other three women."
I reached for the curtain and jerked it aside. Two amber eyes glared at me, full of longing and hunger. A face that was a meld of wolf and human leaned on the glass. Its misshapen horrid jaws did not fit together right and long strands of drool hung from its crooked yellowed teeth.
The skin around the lupine nose wrinkled. The nightmarish thing sniffed the glass, blowing air through its black nostrils and making a small opaque circle of condensation. It raised one deformed hand and tapped the glass with an inch-long claw.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Both standard and high-end locating spells were made in all three cases. They were blocked and produced no results. Kate?"
"Thank you very much, Maxine," I said, unable to take my gaze off the monster at my window. "I have to go now."
"Any time, dear. Play nice with the wolf."
Carefully I put the phone aside. Slayer in hand, I murmured the spell dissolving the ward around the glass and unlocked the window.
The claws hooked the window's edge and effortlessly slid it upward. The wolf-man stepped inside with marked slowness, one furry sinewy leg at a time, and stood seven feet tall in my kitchen. Dense gray fur sheathed its head, shoulders, back, and limbs, leaving the sickening face and the muscular chest bare. I could see round dark spots dotting the skin tightly stretched over his pectorals.
"Alright, pretty boy. What do you have for me?"
He reached toward me, holding a large envelope in his claws. A red wax seal with some sort of imprint secured the envelope.
"Open it," I directed.
The wolf-man clumsily snapped the seal, pulled out a single piece of paper, holding it with his claws, and offered it to me. I took it. His claws left small tears in the paper.
Four lines written in beautiful calligraphy said
His Majesty Curran,
the chosen Lord of Free Beasts,
requests your presence at the meeting of his Pack
at 22:00 of this night.
The paper was signed with a scribble.
"My own fault, huh," I said to the wolf-man. "I did tell him I wanted a formal invitation."
The wolf stared at me. His drool made small sticky puddles on the kitchen linoleum. I thought of being alone with two hundred monsters just like him, each faster and stronger than me, ready to tear me apart at the whim of their leader, and a sinking feeling sucked at my stomach. I didn't want to go.
"Are you supposed to escort me?"
The nightmare opened his mouth and produced a low guttural growl, the frustrated snarl of a mind gifted with the power of speech but locked in a body unable to produce the words. Only the most adept of the shapechangers could speak in a midform.
"Nod, if yes," I said.
The wolf nodded slowly.
"Very well. I need to change. Stay here. Don't move. This is a dangerous place for a wolf. Nod if you understand."
He nodded.
I stepped into the hallway and touched the wall, activating the ward. A translucent red partition materialized in the doorway, separating the kitchen and the monster within from the rest of the apartment. I went to get dressed.
I CHOSE LOOSE DARK GRAY PANTS, CUT TO FLARE at the bottom. They masked my foot when I kicked. The prospect of many claws at my back made me think of light armor, but my suit waited for me at my real house along with the rest of my supplies, long overdue. Not that it would help anyway, not in the middle of the Pack. I dug in the closet, where I kept a couple changes of clothes. When Greg was alive, I only came to his apartment as a last resort, which usually meant I was bleeding and my clothes were ruined.
I thumbed through the outfits and my hands grazed leather. A black leather jacket. I could dimly recall wearing it at some point. Must've been during my "Oh look, I'm tough!" days. I slipped it on and looked in the bedroom mirror. I looked like a bravo. And it was hot. Oh well. It was better than nothing. I took the jacket off, changed my T-shirt for a dark gray tank top, slipped on the tangle of the back sheath, and put the jacket on again. Thugs are us. Great. Just add a super-tight ponytail and loads of mascara, and I'd be ripe to play a supervillain's evil mistress. Ve haf vays of making you gif us your DNA sample.
I settled for my usual braid.
Having rebraided my hair, I paused, considered the arsenal available to me, put on thin wristbands loaded with silver needles, and took nothing else except Slayer. To get clear of two hundred enraged shapechangers I'd need a case of grenades and air support. There was no reason to weigh myself down with extra weapons. Then again, maybe I should take a knife. One knife, as a backup. Okay, two. And that's it.
Armed and dressed to kill - or rather to die quickly but in style - I went to get the wolf-man and together we took the gloomy staircase down to the street. I held Betsi's back door open for my guide and he slid into the backseat. As we started out of the parking lot, his claw tapped me on the back and pointed to the left. I took the hint and turned in that direction.