Written in Red

And a handful of Crows went winging into the Courtyard to report.

Monty got into his car. While he waited for Kowalski, he took an envelope from the coat’s inside pocket. The envelope was in Elayne’s handwriting, and the pressure of pen on paper told him she had been cornered into sending it. The handmade card inside was from Lizzy, his darling girl. Hugs and kisses for her daddy.

He put the card away and closed his eyes. Keep things smooth. Besides all the lives at stake here in Lakeside, he had one very good reason for keeping things smooth.

With a little effort, Asia picked the lock on the apartment door and slipped inside. By the time she was done with this assignment, she would have some serious skills for her TV series. Asia Crane, Special Investigator, would be a native of Toland. . . . No. Most of the PIs currently on TV were from the East Coast’s Big City. She would be a specialist brought in from the Cel-Romano Alliance of Nations to uncover corporate intrigue in Thaisia, or unmask a threat to the human government, or even deal with problems between humans and the terra indigene. Maybe her character could have an ongoing romance with an officer on the ship that routinely traveled across the Atlantik, providing transport between Cel-Romano and Thaisia. Maybe she could have a tame Wolf as an assistant, who could sniff out information other investigators wouldn’t be able to find. Wouldn’t that be a kick in Simon Wolfgard’s ass?

One way or another, this assignment was going to make her a very hot property who could write her own ticket—and name her own price.

Thank the gods she’d parked on a side street when she returned to the Courtyard. She had wanted to be around when Simon Wolfgard realized Meg the feeb was missing. Instead, she’d found cop cars all over the place, the intersection blocked, and all kinds of talk about someone trying to do something suspicious at the Liaison’s Office. Something to do with a box or a van or . . . something.

Everyone who had a mobile phone was chattering nonsense, but it was enough to tell her that White Van had failed big-time.

The idiot not only bungled the snatch; he got caught. She wasn’t worried about him coming back here and finding her searching his apartment. Even if he managed to get out of the Courtyard, he was gone, gone, gone. But she had left a couple of printed notes under the van’s windshield wiper, providing information about Meg’s routine. A pro would have disposed of the notes.

A pro wouldn’t have gotten caught.

As research for her upcoming role, she’d followed White Van one night to find out where he lived. His location had been a tidbit of information for her backers and not of much interest. However, she figured it would come in handy if she needed to point the cops toward a convincing suspect. But the fool had done that himself. Worse, he’d thrown himself to the Wolves, and the gods only knew what he would tell them before they killed him.

So she was here, doing a fast search to make sure the police—or someone worse—wouldn’t find anything that would come back and bite her.

Nothing.

She found the magazines under the mattress and rolled her eyes. But she flipped through them, hoping pages wouldn’t be stuck together, and found a slip of paper with a phone number.

Not a local number. And considering what White Van had been trying to do, that number could be lucrative.

Asia pocketed the slip of paper, put the magazines back under the mattress, and left the apartment.

Late afternoon. Debany and MacDonald had delivered the pizza, and it had eased something in Simon’s chest when Meg showed enthusiasm and appetite for the food.

Not really hurt. Not if she was eating with such obvious pleasure. No longer afraid because an intruder entered the office. And not afraid of him, not when she was willing to tease him about being too full of cookies to want pizza.

Happy Meg made him calmer.

Happy Meg was willing to share food. She even tore off the top of the pizza box, put two pieces on it, and took it outside for the Crows.

He knew enough to insist she put the pieces behind the office instead of out front, where humans could see. Humans had already seen enough of between forms. It was better if they didn’t see Crows with little hands at the ends of their wings, pulling food apart.

While the Crows were distracted, he took his pieces of pizza and ate at the front counter, watching the street.

Merri Lee had brought new sweaters for Meg and persuaded her to see Elizabeth Bennefeld for a massage to relax. So Meg was in the Market Square, being pampered, by the time Simon finally locked up the Liaison’s Office. When he stepped out the back door, he noticed Blair leaning against the garage, waiting for him.

“Henry is very angry,” Blair said quietly. “He shifted and wants to be left alone until tomorrow.”

“Did he say anything before shifting?” Simon asked.

“Someone hired the intruder to take Meg away from us. They gave him a number to call but nothing else. He also said someone left him messages, telling him where Meg lived and when she was in the office. He didn’t know who was helping him.”

“Someone who knows where Meg lives.” She was protected in the Green Complex, but in the office? “Someone stays with her from now on. More than Crows keeping watch. More than someone upstairs who might not reach her before she’s hurt.”

Blair hesitated.

“She saw me as Wolf, and she wasn’t afraid. So there will be one of the Wolfgard in the office when she’s working.”

Blair nodded. “Boone wants to know if he should put out the sign and let everyone know we have special meat.”

Simon almost agreed. Then he thought about the police. He had let them in, and Montgomery was going to come sniffing around for a while. And he thought about Meg asking for meat for Sam, and he thought about the Ruthie shopping in the Market Square. Sooner or later, both females would see the sign and have to accept what it meant. But this time it would be too obvious where the meat came from.

“No sign,” he said. “Pass the word that there is meat available for whoever wants it. And make sure at least some of the blood is offered to Erebus.”

“That part was already done. Nyx came by and collected it.”

Yes. Erebus would want blood from the man who tried to take Meg, who touched Meg.

“You want us to save any meat for you?” Blair asked.

He wasn’t human. Would never be human. “I want the heart. I’ll come by for it later.”

When Meg was asleep.

CHAPTER 16

By the time Meg woke up the next morning, the sun was shining and the sky was a clean blue. Poking her nose out her front door convinced her that, despite the blue sky and sunshine, it was still wicked cold. Since there was nothing she had to do and nowhere she had to go, she warmed up the last piece of pizza and ate it for breakfast while she read a few more chapters of the book she’d borrowed from the Courtyard library.

The last two Earthdays in the Courtyard had been full of turmoil of one kind or another, but just by looking out her window, Meg sensed a difference. Today the Green Complex, maybe even the whole Courtyard, felt quieter.

When she got tired of reading, she dusted the furniture, swept the floors, and ran the sweeper over the carpets. By the time she took a shower and wiped down the bathroom, she was also tired of domesticity, and feeling a little uneasy about the lack of company.

Was she the only one in the complex? Was everyone else off doing something in another part of the