'So much for the famed wolf sense of smell,' she said.
'Damn, the Marquis is good,' I said. Seeing her tattoos 'unhide' her really was like watching The Predator decloak. 'You tell him that, next time you see him, you hear?'
'Sure,' she said, still staring down the tunnel, ears twitching. 'Okay, we're clear. Let's go see what we can do back at his place.'
'Shouldn't we get the hell out of here?' I whispered, as a howl sounded down the tunnel. 'Can't he hear us-'
'Nah, he's sweet on you, and his wolf too,' Cinnamon said, heading back to the den. 'If he was really after us, he'd be here tearin' us up. I just gave him something to chase to get him goin'- now he's gonna to go try to run himself out. We gots maybe an hour, and then the beast will run out of juice and come back here to change. We should be gone.'
I nodded, but she didn't catch it, and looked back to glare at me. 'I means it. We gotta be gone then, girlfriend or no. You didn't tell me he was a transy.'
'A transy?' I said, bewildered. 'Wulf is a transsexual?'
'No! He pops his cork on transit,' she said, waving her long, tufted fingers over her head. 'Most weres turns on the rise, but transies can hold off until zenith-when the full moon gets right overhead.'
'The transit of the moon,' I said, as we stepped back to the den. 'Is it true what he said, that the moon rises an hour earlier every day? I'd never heard of that-'
'Cuz you're not a were,' Cinnamon said. 'More like forty-five minutes, but yeah. Anyways, the older a transy gets, the stronger their beast gets-and it gets liable to loose when the moon's directly at zenith, completely full or no.' Cinnamon looked around, then looked at me. 'So what's the plan? Leave your new boooyfriend a note with your number?'
'He already knows how to contact me,' I said, picking up his fine Italian pants. They were worn, but I could feel how fine the fabric was, could imagine how good it once must have looked on his trim form. 'I need a way to make him use it.'
Cinnamon looked at the coat, then began looking around, examining the pillars around us. 'Think this is Civil?' she asked. 'Maybe a wall-off or something?'
'I dunno,' I said, placing his folded pants and briefs back on his mattress, and turning to get his coat. Maybe leaving him a note wasn't a bad idea. I didn't think he'd take me up on it, but at least I could try. 'You don't have any paper on you, do you?'
'Screw that,' she said, staring at the ceiling, 'I gots an idea. Call Calaphase.'
'I don't see how he can help,' I said, 'and there's no way I'll get a signal-'
'This is a basement,' she said, pointing up, 'not a cave. We ain't that deep.'
I raised an eyebrow, but pulled out my phone. One bar-it was worth a shot. So I dialed. A moment later, a low buzzing sounded in the cellar.
I looked up in shock to see Cinnamon pulling a cell phone from her vest. 'Nicked it off him just the other day,' she said, grinning, opening the phone and miming a deep, gruff voice. 'Hello? Oh helloooo, Dakota! This is Wulfy- wulfy. Oh yeah, I'd love to go to the tat studio and get down your pants. I mean, get inked.'
'Very funny,' I said.
'Yeah, yeah,' she said, fiddling with the phone. 'Ok, your number's in. Gimme that,' she said, taking the coat. She slipped the phone into his jacket pocket. 'I don't see a change of, so he's gonna slip this back on-either tonight, or tomorrow. You can call him then.'
'I got an even better idea,' I said, fishing a receipt out of my wallet. 'Why don't we leave him a phone and a note just in case he's got more clothes?'
After that, we hightailed it. We didn't hear any howling or any running feet, but the tunnels around us were still breathing, and Cinnamon swore she heard something moving in the dark that was neither man nor wolf, so we practically ran down to the landing and shoved off. Once in the water we took it more cautiously, until Cinnamon and I were both certain we were not going to get lost in the maze. When the tunnels started to widen out again and things looked more familiar, I poured a little more effort into the oars, trying to put more distance between us and Wulf s den.
Cinnamon leaned back in the bow, staring over her shoulder at the large vaulted tunnel that meant we were almost out of the water. 'That went… well, I thinks.'
'Thank you,' I said. 'And now I'm gonna be a big square and tell you to go back to the werehouse. It isn't safe.'
'Can't I stay the night?' she whined. 'I don't wanna run back to the werehouse in the middle of, 'specially not after I said you would take me for the day.'
I scowled. 'Okay,' I said. 'But I'll run you back to the werehouse in the morning, OK? Before anyone adds two and two. I really don't think it's a good idea for you to be AWOL. No joke-if you want them to keep letting you come over, you can't go busting their nuts.'
'Yeah, yeah,' she said. 'You just wants to get rid of me-'
'Not yet,' I said, staring at her. 'You hungry?'
'Yes,' she said, grinning. 'What you gots for me?'
'What is it, near midnight?' I said. 'You want breakfast or dinner?'
'Moon's fat overhead. I wants meat' she said, baring her fangs. They seemed longer, somehow. 'Don't care what it's called or when it's s'posed to be served.'
'You got your fake ID on ya?' I said.
'Like, duh,' she said, grinning. 'Don't leave home withouts-'
'Then let me show you a little place called the Vortex-'
And so we went to the Vortex Bar and Grill at one in the morning, stepping through the huge skull that made its front door into the pop-culture chaos of its crowded, kitschy interior, where I introduced Cinnamon to the joys of a bacon-and-cheese bison burger with sweet potato fries. She screwed up her nose at all the smokers- the only reason a burger joint had an over-18 policy, thanks to Atlanta's new smoking ban-but chowed down heartily on rare bison while I munched on a Ragin' Greek turkey-burger-in-pita. Pure heaven.
Cinnamon leaned back again, grinning. 'Cain't I stay tomorrow? I want to see you needle Wulf. He gots pretty skin.'
'Two people tried to take a chunk out of me,' I said, 'and somebody actually got Spleen. You may be bulletproof and all-'
'No, I gots it,' she said, suddenly sober. She leaned forward, looking around as if someone might listen in. 'Somebody's really gots it out for him, don't they?'
'I think so,' I said. 'I really think so.'
She glared down at the remnants of her fries. 'Fine,' she said. 'He hates my guts anyway, 'cuz I'm a cat. Stupid rogue wolves.'
Cinnamon stayed the night-sleeping on the sofa-and after picking up some Flying Biscuits I rode her back within striking distance of the werehouse and dropped her off. When I got back to the Rogue Unicorn, I found three missed calls and two messages on my phone, all from 'Calaphase.' In the first message, Wulf cussed me out-at least I think that's what he was doing; it was hard to tell over all the snarling. In the second message, he was more… apologetic. After I got settled in the office and had Wulfs flash in front of me, I called him.
'Hey, Wulf,' I said. 'Sorry about last night.'
'No.' he said, voice rock solid and clear. 'I'm sorry- about… well, everything. But it means something that you came all the way to my den. Thank you, Dakota. I won't forget it. I had given up-'
'So does that mean I'll get you in my chair today?' I said, cutting him off before we got distracted from the tattooing by another journey into touchy feelie territory.
There was a long pause. 'Yes,' he said at last. 'Yes, I will. How long will it take?'
'Two hours,' I said. 'I know I said I would do it on me and transfer it to you but… I'm not going to start it until you get here. I don't want a werewolf sigil on my body any longer than I absolutely have to.' Come to think of it, I should call Jinx about it. I made a note to do so.
'The sun transits a bit after noon,' he said. 'With it right overhead, we'll have almost the whole earth between us and the moon. I should eat at transit, when the beast is weakest, and then let it settle-that usually keeps him fully at bay a few hours longer. I will come by at one-that gives us four whole hours to moonrise.'
