Written in Red

A minute after he opened HGR, Asia Crane strutted through the door. She was a determined bitch, so he wasn’t surprised that even a bad scare hadn’t kept her away for long. If he’d liked her at all, he might have admired her determination to lure him into having sex.

And if he ever found out she was sniffing around the Courtyard—and him—for something more than a walk on the wild side, he would kill her.

Asia gave him a slashing look as she opened her parka and walked toward the display of new books, every bump of her hips a sharp movement in the skintight jeans.

He watched the shallow way her chest rose and fell under the short, tight sweater, watched the way her encased hips kept moving even though she was picking up books and looking at the back copy—almost like she didn’t dare stop moving because there was a good chance she wouldn’t be able to start up again. When he saw her little, self-satisfied smile, he realized she was watching him watch her. Why would she be satisfied? Considering the way she struggled to expand her chest, she didn’t even look bitable this morning.

Or maybe he was still full from the deer they’d brought down yesterday and wasn’t interested in another weak animal.

“Mr. Wolfgard?”

He focused his amber eyes and most of his attention on Heather, one of his human employees.

“If you’re going to man the register, do you want me to stock the shelves?” She gave him a hesitant smile and suddenly smelled nervous.

“You are a sensible female,” he said, raising his voice so Asia would stay at the new books display and not feel the need to slink over to hear what he was saying.

“Thanks,” Heather said. “Um . . . why? I haven’t done anything yet.”

He waved a hand at her. “Your clothes don’t lock up your body. You can take a full breath. If you were being chased, you wouldn’t fall down after a few steps from lack of air.” He was thinking of her escaping a human pursuer. A Wolf would run her down in seconds whether she could breathe or not.

Heather stared at him.

He continued to study her, understanding by the fear scent that he had taken a misstep somewhere in the past minute. He’d been indicating approval, because it was now clear to him that Asia did those exaggerated hip movements to hide the fact that she couldn’t walk quickly without being out of breath. He didn’t know what he’d said that had frightened Heather, but the look in her eyes made him think of a bunny just before it tries to run.

Even when he wasn’t hungry, he liked chasing bunnies.

“I’ll go stock some of the shelves,” Heather said, backing away from him.

“All right.” He tried to sound agreeable so that she wouldn’t quit. Vlad hated doing the paperwork as much as he did when a human employee quit, which was why they’d both made a promise not to eat quitters just to avoid the paperwork. As Tess had pointed out, eating the staff was bad for morale and made it so much harder to find new employees.

When Heather came out of the back room with a cart of books—instead of running out the back door after leaving the words I quit on a note taped to the wall, like a couple of previous employees had done—he turned his attention to Asia.

She must have been waiting for that moment. Her cheeks were a blaze of color and she looked ready to spit stone. She slammed a book back down on the display and raised her chin.

“I guess there isn’t anything of interest here this morning,” she said coldly.

“Then you should go,” he replied. “Although . . .” He vaulted over the counter, went to the other side of the display, picked up a book, and held it out. “You might find this one interesting.”

It was one of the horror books written by a terra indigene. The cover was black with the open mouth of a Wolf just before it took a bite out of its enemy. Or maybe it was the second bite, since there was a little blood on the teeth.

Asia forgot everything she knew about Wolves and bolted out the door.

He watched her run toward the parking lot and decided two things: one, she couldn’t run worth a damn in those clothes, and two, on her, he found the fear scent agreeable.

Monty adjusted the collar of his overcoat with one hand while he knocked on his captain’s doorway.

“Come in, Lieutenant,” Captain Burke said, waving him in while most of his attention remained on the sheet of paper he was studying. “Are you getting settled in all right?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you for asking.”

Yesterday he’d gone to the temple near his apartment building and had found some peace and fellowship there. Then he called Elayne in the hope of talking to Lizzy, and got stonewalled. Lizzy had never been allowed to go over to a friend’s house before the midday meal on the day of rest and meditation. He didn’t think Elayne would change that rule, but if she had, it was only to deny him some time to talk to his little girl. Until that phone call he’d still thought of himself as Elayne’s lover, despite the current estrangement, but she made it clear she was looking for someone whose social standing would erase the “stain” he’d put on all their lives.

And that told him plainly enough that his chances of talking to Lizzy, let alone having her come to visit during her summer vacation, had gone from slim to none.

“A couple of calls about Wolf sightings yesterday,” Burke said. “You can hear them howling for miles, so people are used to that, but having Wolves gather in the Courtyard parking lot during the day is unusual.”

“I’ll check it out,” Monty said.

Burke nodded, then turned the paper he’d been studying so Monty could see it. “Your priority is the Courtyard, but keep your eyes open for this individual while you’re on patrol. Somebody wants this thief caught and the stolen items returned in a hurry, and has the clout to pull strings with the Northeast Region governor. And the governor pulled our mayor’s strings, and you know how it tumbles down from there.”

Monty stared at the Most Wanted poster and felt the blood drain from his head.

May all the gods above and below have mercy on us.

“I’m going to get copies of this made and distributed, and—”

“You can’t.”

Burke folded his hands and gave Monty a smile that was full of friendly menace. “You’re telling your captain what he can or can’t do?”

Monty pointed to the face on the poster, noting the way his hand trembled. He was sure Burke noticed that too. “That’s the new Liaison at the Lakeside Courtyard. I met her the other day.” Being wanted for the theft of something that would have somebody leaning on the governor for its return could explain why Meg Corbyn had been so nervous when he’d met her. She hadn’t been worried about working with the Wolves; she’d been worried about being recognized by him.

“Are you sure, Lieutenant?” Burke asked quietly.

Monty nodded. “The hair looks darker here . . .” A bad dye job would explain the weird orange color. “But that’s her.”

“You’ve met Simon Wolfgard. Do you think he’d hand her over to you?”

Human law didn’t apply in the Courtyards—or anywhere beyond the land the humans had been allowed to lease from the terra indigene in order to have farms and cities—and it never applied to the Others. But Simon Wolfgard ran a business and had no tolerance for thieves. Would that make a difference?

“I can stall putting out copies of this poster,” Burke said, “but I’m sure every police station received it and every other captain is going to be handing out copies to his men. So if I’m going to be the only captain defying a direct order from the mayor to apprehend this woman, you’d better give me a reason I can take to His Honor.”

“I’d like to make a copy of this and take it to Mr. Wolfgard,” Monty said. “I’ll show it to him and let him decide.”

“Just remember, that woman is the only one who knows where the stolen property is hidden. We need a live person, not a DLU. Make sure he understands that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get your copy made and keep me informed.”

Monty took the poster, made his copy, and returned the original to Burke. When he finished, he found Kowalski leaning a hip against his desk.