Wolfsbane and Mistletoe (Charlaine Harris) (Kitty Norville 2.50)
Page 45
She smelled David.
Pausing a moment, she tasted it, fearing what it meant. But no, this was fresh. Still warm. The touch of him on the air was more human than wolf. He was in human form. His trail didn't have the reek of a predator who'd just devoured prey.
Ahead, she saw him, a dark figure stretched out on the ground, collecting bits of s
now in the wrinkles of his clothes. She was in the perfect position to sneak up on him and pounce. In fact, her hands itched, the claws wanting to come out, Wolf wanting to grab this opportunity.
And wouldn't that be a complete and utter disaster? She refrained, not wanting to give him a heart attack - or a good excuse to turn wolf at this particular moment.
"David," she called in the loudest whisper she could manage, creeping up until she was beside him.
Despite her caution, he flinched and twisted back to look at her. Then he sagged with relief.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed back.
"Following you. Have you found out anything?"
He took a deep breath. "I don't think a werewolf did it. There'd be some trace of it, wouldn't there?"
There would. She'd smelled the aftermath of a werewolf-killed body before, and he was right - if David had done it, they'd be smelling blood, bodies, and wolf.
"Yeah, there would," she said.
He slumped and made a sound that was almost a sob. He'd come out here for no other reason than to reassure himself.
Tentative, she touched his shoulder. Leaned close to him in a wolfish gesture of companionship. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. Let's go back now. " Back to the warmth, light, virgin eggnog, Jimmy Stewart, and a wonderful life.
"If I didn't do this," David said. "Who did? What did?"
"That's for the police to find out. "
Something seemed to have taken hold of him. Some newfound determination. Like the evidence had given him confidence - proof that he wasn't an out-of-control ravening monster.
"We ought to be able to find something out," he said. "We can smell the trail. The police can't do that. If we can, shouldn't we help - "
"'With great power comes great responsibility. ' Is that what you're thinking?" she said with a smirk.
Looking away, he frowned. "It can't hurt to try. "
She wanted to apologize. She shouldn't tease him.
"So," she said. "You feel like a hunt?"
He stared out to the murder scene. He might have had a human form, but crouched there, his gaze focused, body tense, ready to leap forward in an instant, his body language was all wolf. She felt the same stance in her own body.
"Yeah," he said. "I do. "
Together, they took off at a jog, keeping clear of the cordoned-off area and the circle of lights that marked it.
Prowling out of sight of the police, they found a trail, the barest scent of blood on the air. Probably not so much as a drop was left on the ground for the police to find. But it was there, lingering, fading rapidly because of the falling snow. If they were going to do this, they needed to hurry.
They ranged back and forth along the same half-mile stretch of prairie leading away from the road, looking for the sign they'd discovered: blood on the air, and oil, like the person they were looking for worked in a garage. There was something undefinable - something she as a human being couldn't describe. But the wolf inside her knew the flavor of the smell. This was a predator they were looking for. A taste of aggression rather than fear, like there'd be with prey. The feeling put her on edge. She was sure, though: the murderer was human.
A few miles from the interstate, another set of police cars gathered around a house at what looked like a junkyard. Acres of wrecked and rusting cars lined up on the land around it, roped in by strings of barbed-wire fencing. The familiar ring of lights and yellow tape bound the house. And the tang of blood and slaughter drenched the air. This scene was more recent than the other.
"What is this?" Kitty whispered. "Is some guy roaming the countryside murdering people he just happens across?"
The thought of a crazed murderer running around out here didn't frighten her; she was a werewolf. Unless his weapons were silver, he couldn't hurt her without really working at it. Even so, this was turning into one of her more harebrained adventures.