Written in Red

Wolfgard, everyone at the consulate thought of the Liaison’s Office like a poor relation—something that had to be tolerated but was ignored as much as possible.

Poor relation or not, even they had paid some attention when Meg screamed. So there was a way to redirect the Others’ attention, if only for a minute or two. Plenty of things could be accomplished in a minute or two.

And there was that Wolf pup wearing a harness. Could he shift into a boy, or did the harness constrict his ability to change into human form? If one of the Others could be contained and controlled, her backers probably knew a few collectors who would risk the wrath of the terra indigene to have a Wolf for a pet, if only for a little while. They might even consider using a tamed Wolf in a few horror movies—at least until he became old enough to be dangerous.

Asia smiled at the waiter when he brought her a bowl of soup. As the simple meal warmed her, she looked at the Courtyard and smiled again.

Meg was looking after a pup while Simon Wolfgard was away. Didn’t need to be a genius to add up two and two and get money.

After all, holding someone for ransom was often a lucrative, if risky, business.

CHAPTER 13

On Sunsday morning, the new set of bowls and the dog bed for the office were delivered as promised, and Sam was delighted to have his own comfortable spot where he could watch Meg as she sorted mail and packages. Boone brought over a small container of chopped meat, claiming it was now a regular order. Meg didn’t ask what kind of meat it was or who had placed the order. She just warmed up the meat and stirred it into the kibble.

That morning, there was no sign of Jake Crowgard. There was also no sign of any of the pencils or pens he’d been playing with—including the three that were supposed to be hers. Between deliveries, she called toy stores, found what she was looking for, and got a promise from the store that she would have the merchandise by that afternoon.

Sometimes Sam hid from the deliverymen; sometimes he watched them from the sorting-room doorway—and Meg watched the way a couple of them studied the red harness just a little too long for her liking.

And too often throughout the day, when she thought about the vision of the men in black and Sam howling in terror, she found herself rubbing her arms to relieve the prickling under her skin while she struggled with the craving to make another cut.

By Windsday, Meg and Sam had a workable morning routine, and for the first time since beginning her puppy-sitting stint seven days ago, they got to the office without rushing.

As she opened the front door, Meg stuck her head out and smiled at the Crows who had taken up their usual position on the wall. “Tell Jake I have a package for him.”

After setting up for business, she unclipped the leash and removed Sam’s harness. She made that decision after waking up twice, scared by dreams she couldn’t remember. She would keep the harness and leash handy, but she didn’t want him wearing it when it wasn’t necessary.

Besides, Merri Lee told her that Ferus had been reassigned to work with Blair at the Utilities Complex. And yesterday Henry suddenly came into the office several times to check on a delivery or look through a catalog he claimed he didn’t have. It hadn’t escaped her notice that the Grizzly showed up every time Elliot Wolfgard left the consulate. Realizing Blair and Henry had done those things because some of the Wolves were upset about the harness was another reason for Sam not to wear it.

“We don’t need the safety line when we’re inside the office,” she told him when he tried to leap up and grab the harness off the counter. “All you have to remember is not to run out when we fill the mail baskets for the ponies.”

He talked back, but she gave him cookies and another piece of the stag stick, which he took back to his bed to gnaw on, ending the discussion.

Jake Crowgard wasn’t as easy to distract.

Meg didn’t know how he was getting in, but he was on the counter, studying the empty pen holder when she came back to the front room. Setting her peppermint tea on the sorting table, where it would be out of reach of any gifts he might want to drop into it, she pulled out a box from under the counter, opened it, and showed him the wooden wheels, colored sticks, and various connectors.

“Give back all my pencils and pens—and promise to leave them alone from now on—and you can have this,” she said.

Negotiations would have been simpler if Jake had shifted to his human form so that he could actually talk to her. She was sure that was the reason he didn’t shift. He tried to pretend he didn’t understand what she was saying, so she smiled at him, closed the box, took it into the sorting room, and shut the Private door.

She ignored Jake’s cawing while she sorted the mail. She ignored Sam’s howling when she unlocked the sorting-room’s outside door, then went into the back room to fetch her coat and the bowl of carrot chunks that was the ponies’ treat that day.

Sam stood in front of the outside door, mouthing his end of the leash and wagging his tail. Clearly, having a door open to the outside required the safety line. Wondering if she had emphasized the buddy system a little too much, Meg slipped the leash’s loop over her wrist and picked up the first two bundles of mail just as a chorus of neighs announced the arrival of the ponies. Pleased with himself, Sam stayed beside her as she walked back and forth between the table and the ponies, loading their baskets with mail, catalogs from nearby stores, and flat packages.

Once the ponies were on their way and Sam had ducked out just long enough to yellow up some snow, Meg locked the doors. Then she checked the front room. Jake wasn’t in sight, but there were three pencils on the counter.

She took the pencils and put two colored sticks and a wheel in their place.

When she closed for lunch, she snuck the toy box out of the office and locked it in her BOW. Then she dropped Sam off at Henry’s yard for an hour of playtime while she went to A Little Bite for a leisurely meal.

Returning to the office, she found three more pencils and four pens on the counter—and a black feather in the sorting room. Apparently, Jake had tried to get around trading by searching for the box. She felt oddly proud that she’d been sneakier than a Crow.

She never saw him during the afternoon delivery hours, but every time she checked the front room, a few more pens or pencils would be on the counter. When the pen holder and the pencil boxes were full, Meg set all the remaining toy pieces on the counter and locked up for the day. She had deliveries to make, and she needed to get Sam settled at home before heading out.

As she and Sam went out the back door, Starr Crowgard ran up to them.

“Jake wants to know if you found the last pencils,” Starr said.

“Yes, I did.” Meg paused, her key in the lock.

“He wondered if he could have the rest of the sticks.”

He wondered? Meg thought as she opened the door. “Sure.”

They went to the front room. Meg put the remaining pieces back in the box and gave it all to Starr, who shifted from foot to foot.

It was a mistake to think the Others were exactly like the birds or animals they mimicked, but after living in those forms for so many generations, they had absorbed some of the behaviors of those animals. Putting together what she knew about crows with the way Starr was looking at her, Meg tried not to sigh. “How many boxes would you like for the Corvine social room?”

Starr held up five fingers.

“I’ll order them tomorrow.”

Smiling, Starr followed her out, then hurried toward the Market Square, where her sisters—and, no doubt, Jake—were waiting at Sparkles and Junk to finish building whatever they were building.

Once she and Sam were settled in the BOW, Meg let out a gusty sigh. It wasn’t easy dealing with the Others,