Written in Red

“Will there be anything else?” the clerk asked.

Meg thought about it. “What kind of toys would a puppy like?”

She ended up with a ball and a length of knotted rope. Then she spotted dog cookies and picked up boxes of beef flavor and chicken flavor.

The clerk looked so relieved when she handed over her big zippered shopping bag, she wondered if the store would be closed from now on when the Others usually came to the plaza.

“Do you have a catalog?” she asked.

He slipped two into the bag. “Orders are usually next-day delivery.”

She paid for her purchases and sighed with relief when she was on the sidewalk. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but she wasn’t sure how the Others felt about pet stores. She started to walk between two parked cars, then stopped, unable to take another step.

Rememory. A car door suddenly opening as a young woman walked past. Strong hands reaching, grabbing. Dark hood. Hard to breathe. Impossible to see. And those hands touching and . . .

“Are you all right?”

Meg jerked back and almost slipped, then almost slipped again trying to avoid the hand reaching for her.

Crows cawed, sounding a warning.

She focused on the man, who now stood very still. Police officer. Not one of the two who had introduced themselves, but not unfamiliar.

“Officer Kowalski, ma’am. I work with Lieutenant Montgomery.”

She let her breath out slowly. She’d seen him in the car the day the lieutenant stopped in.

“My thoughts wandered,” she said. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” That wouldn’t explain whatever he’d seen in her face when he reached for her, but the way he looked at her told her plainly enough her explanation, while true in its way, wasn’t quite good enough to be believed.

“Let me give you a hand back to the bus. The parking lot is a little slick today.”

Feeling unsteady and understanding that making an excuse to refuse his help would cause trouble, she accepted his arm—and noticed, even across the parking lot, the way Vlad stiffened as he watched them. She also noticed the way two more police officers got out of a patrol car and began looking around.

“Was anyone abducted from this plaza recently?” Meg asked, only noticing the prickling in her legs when the sensation began to fade.

“Ma’am?” Kowalski gave her a sharp look.

Rememories and images didn’t use to flood her mind like this when she wasn’t focused on a particular question, wasn’t strapped in for a cutting and prophecy. When other people talked about recalling memories and information, was this what they experienced—this immediate association of one thing to another?

Did that mean she was starting to process the information around her like other people did, or was this the first stage of madness in a cassandra sangue? The Walking Names told the girls they would go mad if they tried to live outside the compound. Only Jean insisted that they wouldn’t, but she really was half mad.

“It’s nothing,” Meg lied. “Overactive imagination. I have to stop reading scary stories before bedtime.”

He nodded. “My fiancee says the same thing. Doesn’t stop her from reading them.”

Releasing his arm when they reached the bus—and Vlad—Meg smiled at Kowalski. “Thank you for the escort.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.” Nodding to Vlad, he returned to his patrol car.

“Problem?” Vlad asked.

She shook her head.

“You want to do any more shopping?”

She shook her head again. She wanted to get out of sight, wanted to hide. The need to do that was almost painful, and she didn’t know what was making her feel that way. But she did remember how Simon had calmed down in response to her acting calm, so it wasn’t hard to guess that predators didn’t react well around fear.

“I’d like to put this in the bus and then make some notes about what stores are here,” she said.

“I’ll take that.” Vlad’s hand closed around the top of her carry bag.

She couldn’t think of a way to refuse his help without making him curious about her purchases, so she surrendered the bag, then pulled a notebook out of her purse. As the Others trickled back to the bus with sacks bulging with merchandise, Meg made a list of the stores—and tried to ignore the feeling that more than the police and the terra indigene were watching her.

Asia slumped in her seat, peering over the dashboard as the Courtyard bus pulled out of the parking lot.

“Gods,” she muttered when White Van pulled out moments later. “Can you be more obvious?” The fool had been walking toward Meg and was barely a handful of cars away when that police officer approached her. Cops and Crows and a freaking vampire all watching the parking lot. Watching Meg. Did that idiot really think he could have gotten away if he’d even made a grab for her? At best, he’d be having a long chat with the cops. At worst, pieces of him would be all over the damn parking lot.

Satisfied there was no one left who would notice her, she started her car.

Time to call Bigwig to see if he had any other information about Meg Corbyn. Someone who was supposed to be a thief shouldn’t be getting police protection. Could be a cover story. A woman on the run being smoked out of hiding by a false accusation of theft. She’s taken into custody, and one cop believes her story and helps her escape. Then the two of them are on the run, racing against time to uncover a deadly conspiracy.

That kind of movie could be a hit. She’d have to write up the idea and talk to Bigwig about it. Instead of a movie, maybe it could be a two-part special story in the Asia Crane, SI, TV show that would introduce the cop who might be an information source and/or lover.

While she was discussing that story idea with Bigwig, maybe he would be able to find out why so many people were paying attention to the Courtyard’s Liaison.

Meg knelt in front of Sam’s cage. She had hoped that everyone else would still be working, but apparently even the businesses available to human customers sometimes closed on a whim.

Or maybe the pizzas Henry took up to the social room were the reason the residents of the Green Complex were home early.

If she waited until dark to try this, they had less chance of being seen, but it might be scarier for Sam. So they would do this now.

“Sam,” she said. “I think we should try the buddy system so we can go outside together.”

He whined and shivered.

“When humans climb mountains, they tie a rope around themselves that connects them to their buddy. That way, if one of them gets stuck in a snowdrift, the other can pull him out.”

She was mashing images together in a way that might not make a realistic whole, but she figured Sam wouldn’t know that. Besides, there weren’t any mountains in the Courtyard, but there were significant drifts that could bury either one of them.

“So I bought these.” She held up the leash. “See? It’s a safety line. I loop this around my waist, like this.” She slipped one end of the leash through the wrist loop, then stepped into the bigger loop and pulled it up to her waist. “This end clips to a harness that you wear, since that’s better than squashing you around the middle.” She clipped the leash to the harness and held it up for him to see. “Want to try the buddy system? We wouldn’t go far. Just a walk around the inside of the complex. What do you think?”

She opened the cage door. She was pretty sure Sam couldn’t get out of the apartment, but she remembered movie clips of what a house looked like after a dog, chased by a human, ran through it.

If that happened, Simon would take one look at his home when he returned and eat her.

Sam crept to the door of the cage and stretched his neck to sniff the harness. He looked at the harness, then looked at her . . . and stepped out of the cage, making anxious little sounds.

“All right,” she said brightly. “Let’s go walk in the snow!”

She shimmied out of her end of the leash and put the harness on him, double-checking to make sure nothing was too tight. Then she put on her coat and shimmied the leash back up to her waist. Sam hesitated and looked ready to bolt back into his cage, but he followed her to the front door and pressed himself against her legs, which