'Okay,' I said.
'Will you please give me his number, then?' Philip said.
'Philip,' I said, then stopped. 'I can't. I can't betray his trust. Not even for you. It's hard to explain what trust means to us down here.'
'Look, Dakota,' Philip said. 'All right. Wulf is a suspect, and I need to question him. I freely admit it. But just question him-that's it. I have no intention of running the first guy I've collared to the DA, not with eyewitnesses denying his involvement and mysterious figures trying to manipulate the police. And if he is innocent, then he is in danger. He needs to be cleared, he needs protection, and most of all, he needs your tattoo. To do all that, we need to find him. Could you imagine, just for a minute, just for one minute, that I'm not trying to notch up a collar here, but that I want to find him because I have his best interests at heart?'
I wavered, then broke down. 'All right, Philip,' I said. '678-'
'Wait,' he said, 'let me get a fucking pen-'
'If you hurt him,' I said, 'or disappear him, you're a dead man.'
'Dakota, I meant it. At this point I just want to talk to him, offer him police protection if he will accept it-and either way, tell him to get a good lawyer.'
'Police do that?'
'We do what we have to,' Philip said. I gave him the number, and then he said: 'Look, I'm gone, but if you need us-you have my number, and Rand's. And if it's an emergency, call 'Black Mayday, Black Mayday' on any police channel. Say you are an important asset in a DEI case, and someone in Atlanta will pick it up and respond as soon as they can.'
'Take care,' I forced myself to say. I was still angry, though I couldn't really say why.
'You too,' Philip said. 'I… well, be safe, Dakota.'
And then he hung up.
I stood there staring at the phone glumly. I was angry at Philip for targeting Wulf, but deep down I knew I couldn't blame him. In his place I'd have been forced to do the same thing, no matter how I felt about Wulf.
And I realized that maybe there was more at work than just the issue of trust between Edgeworlders. I did feel something about Wulf, more than just appreciation that he'd saved my ass. Seeing the man struggling with his wolf made me empathize, made me connect to him. Made me wonder what he'd be like if there weren't so many bumps and bruises in his past. He made me care. But so did Philip, the scary man-in-black with the devilish goatee who in one moment seemed as ruthless as Wulf was wounded, and in the next seemed to be bending rules just because I asked him to.
I was very confused.
And then someone whispered in my ear, 'Having trouble with your ^oooyfriend?'
33. DISTURBINGLY EASY TO FIND
'Aaa!' I cried, half leaping out of my chair and whirling around. Cinnamon sat on the reverse-facing train seat that backed up to mine, leaning her head over the joint headrest until she'd practically rested it on my shoulder-and I hadn't noticed. 'How the hell did you-'
'You're like the world's easiest person to track,' she said, sniffing curiously, flicking her big ears at me. 'At least this time you hopped on a train, so I gots a good run. Chasing you round on that little bike is so boring.'
She rolled over, propping her arms lazily on the seat, blinkingwhich gave her a good look at my hair and face. She hissed and recoiled.
'Thought I smelled a beating. Who banged ya up?' she snarled. 'Who did ya? Was it that little shit they booted out, Trans? Fuck! I'll kill 'im!'
'Leave him alone,' I warned. 'He's a real psycho-'
'I don't care how nuts he is,' she said in a sing song, 'I just wanna see his guts-'
'Cinnamon!' I said. 'Did you listen in?'
She rolled over again, looking up at me at an angle. 'Yah,' she said. 'I won't lie to ya.'
'Then you know I'm in a world of shit,' I said. 'It isn't safe for you to be around me right now-'
'You just wants to get rid of me,' she said, sniffing. 'Oh, boo hoo-'
But she really did sound wounded. 'I do not-' I began.
'You were happy to ditch me last week,' she countered.
'If you're going to cost me a hundred bucks a week-'
'Hey,' she said. 'I'm no bloodsucker. I still gots half that.'
'Cinnamon,' I said. 'Go home. Stay safe until the full moon is-'
Then my blood ran cold.
'Cinnamon, aren't you about to change?' My eyes narrowed. She'd actually grown whiskers, huge catlike whiskers. I hadn't seen them before. 'You are, aren't you?'
'MaaaayBE,' she said petulantly. 'Tomorrow night, day afta. I won't lie to ya-I gotta be back to the 'house by nightfall 'morrow to make lockdown.'
'They lock you up?' I said. 'That's horrible-'
'It's a service, not a sentence,' she said. 'This ain't the country. In the city if you can't control your beast, you die. At the 'house, they cages it, calms it down. You can even go on hunts, supervised like, if they gots a strong alpha on deck.'
I just stared at her. It was such a different world.
'So anyway… I tolds 'em you were s'posed to take me today,' she grinned, leaning back over the seat a little more to look me in the eye. 'You gonna rat me again, you big were-fink?'
'No,' I said, rubbing my brow. 'Actually, wasn't I supposed to take you today?'
'Next Friday,' she said. 'But they don'ts needs to know.'
'No, the last thing I want is to get you in trouble,' I said. 'But I don'ts supposes-I don't suppose there's any chance of you going back for your own safety?'
'With like twenty hours freedom?' she said, rolling her eyes. 'You just wants me gone.'
'No,' I snapped, 'But neither do I want you shot.'
'But I'm bulletproof,' she countered.
'And I'm busy,' I replied. 'I've got to get ready to do Wulfs tattoo-'
'I wants to see that,' she said, turning round in the seat to face me over her folded arms. 'I bets you're a hell of a lot nicer on your canvases than the fag. When are you gonna do it?'
'Tomorrow, I hope,' I said.
'You gots a hope?' she replied. 'Why you gots a hope and not a time?'
'I can't find him,' I said. 'Spleen… Spleen is dead, Cinnamon.'
'The little weasel?' she said. 'No! Was it Trans-'
'He was mauled,' I said. 'Like by an animal.'
Cinnamon sat there frozen. 'It wasn't me! I liked the weasel!'
'I didn't think it was you,' I responded. 'I think Philip suspects Wulf.'
'Do you?' she said, looking at me coolly. 'Just because he's a were?'
I suddenly realized that I had just shifted in the conversationfrom her 'in' group to her 'out' group. 'No,' I said, disgusted. 'He had means and opportunity, but where's the motive? Spleen was his contact. And I got him on the phone, so obviously he hasn't already turned.'
'Okay then,' she said, still wary. 'So what's the holdup?'
'He won't return my calls,' I said. 'He's chickened out, says he wants to 'protect' me.'
'Maybe he is,' she said. 'Maybe he did gut Spleen and wants to keep you out of it-'
'Or maybe he's just a pussy,' I said, and her eyebrows shot up. 'I get this all the time from people who book an appointment with me. 'I've decided it's too dangerous.' Or, 'It's too expensive.' Or, 'I remembered an appointment.' There's a thousand excuses and only one translation: He may have gotten cold feet. He's scared to sit in my chair.'
'Ya thinks?' she said, grinning.
