Written in Red

soon as he answered the phone.

A crackling excitement filled the phone line. “We’ve picked up a couple of whispers that a blood prophet wandered off,” he said. “Men have been searching the Northeast Region for some sign of her. You think you’ve found her?”

Asia’s thoughts spun so fast, she could barely think at all. Meg was a cassandra sangue? No wonder White Van had tried to grab her. No wonder someone had pressured the Lakeside government to help find her. That skin must be worth thousands and thousands of dollars. Maybe even a million!

And it was surrounded by fangs, claws, and beaks that could render it useless.

“Do you think you’ve found her?” Bigwig asked again.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Asia hesitated, trying to figure out who would give her the best offer for her help. “Someone tried to abduct the Courtyard’s Liaison today, so I’m going to have to be careful about asking questions.”

“You think she’s there? In the Courtyard?” A pause. “Yes. Yes, that makes sense. The mayor has been quite frustrated by the lack of progress the police have made with regard to the thief I told you about. So the prophet and thief are one and the same.”

Have to decide now, Asia thought. Gamble on someone who might make good on his offer, or stick with the men who can guarantee I’ll have a show that lasts enough seasons to make me a very rich woman? “Yes, I think they are.”

“Even if we can’t find the original owner, there are others who—”

“I already found him.” There was a weight to the silence that followed her words, so she pushed on. “I did some investigating and searched the apartment of the would-be abductor. I found a phone number. I got off the phone with the interested party just before I called you. He’s sending in his own people, but we’ll receive a finder’s fee and some compensation for continued assistance.”

“I guess you do want to star in your own TV show.”

She grinned. “I guess I really do.” After promising to give him daily updates, she hung up and moved around her apartment, unable to relax.

Something in his tone of voice. A lack of confidence that hadn’t been there until she told him she’d already made contact with the man she assumed was Meg’s Controller.

Had Bigwig hoped to sell Meg to the highest bidder? Or had he hoped to tuck the feeb away somewhere, to be used exclusively by his chosen few?

Didn’t matter now. The hired muscle was heading for Lakeside. Time to change her focus. And that meant Darrell was going to get lucky after all.

And her luck was changing too. Bigwig and the other backers might be unhappy about a blood prophet slipping through their fingers, but she would bring them something even better: a small, furry bargaining chip.

CHAPTER 17

When Meg stepped into the office’s front room on Moonsday morning, she found a Wolf staring at her from the other side of the counter. A glance at the go-through confirmed the slide locks were still in place. That didn’t instill any feeling of safety, especially when the Wolf stood on his hind legs and plopped his forelegs on the counter in much the same way a man would rest his forearms.

Backing through the Private doorway, she eased the door closed, turned the lock, and bolted for the telephone in the sorting room. Her hands shook, making it harder to dial, but she got through to Howling Good Reads.

“There’s a Wolf in the Liaison’s Office!” she shouted.

Bewildered silence filled the phone line before John Wolfgard said, “Isn’t there supposed to be?”

“Not a furry one! Where’s Simon? I need to talk to Simon!”

More silence. Then, warily, “He’s there, at the office.”

“No, he’s not. I know what Simon looks like as a Wolf, and that’s not Simon!”

“That’s Nathan,” Simon said, walking in from the back room. “He’s on duty this morning.”

Meg hung up the phone, then picked up the receiver, said, “Good-bye, John,” to the dial tone, and put the receiver back on its cradle.

“Did you open the front door?” Simon asked, fishing in a drawer for the office keys. Finding them on the counter next to the phone, he picked them up and took a step toward the Private door.

“No, I didn’t open the door. There was a Wolf in the way!”

He stopped and studied her. Gave the air a little sniff. “You’re acting strange. Is it that time of the month?”

She shrieked. His human ears flattened in a way human ears shouldn’t, and he backed away from her.

In the front room, the Wolf howled.

Then Simon seemed to remember who was the leader. He stopped backing away, and his amber eyes suddenly had that glint of predator.

“You weren’t afraid of me when I was Wolf,” he said. “Why are you afraid of Nathan?”

“He’s got big feet!” Which was true, but beside the point. It was just the first thing that popped into her head.

“What?”

An insulted-sounding arrrroooo came from the other side of the door, a reminder that Wolves also had big ears.

Meg closed her eyes, then took a deep breath and let it out. Took another one. She wasn’t going to get anywhere with either one of them if she kept sounding like a ninny. And she was having some trouble explaining to herself why she had that moment of panic. “A strange Wolf is scarier than a familiar Wolf, especially when you’re not expecting any Wolf at all.”

Simon waved a hand, dismissing what she thought was a perfectly logical point. “That’s Nathan. He’s staying. As the Courtyard’s leader, I made that decision.”

“As the Liaison, I should have been informed before a change was made to this office.”

Simon took a step toward her. She took a step toward him.

“Arrrooooo?” queried Nathan.

“Someone paid that man to take you away, Meg,” Simon growled. “Someone tried to hurt you. So a Wolf will be on guard when the office is open. Nathan is an enforcer for the Courtyard. He’s one of our best in a fight.”

“But—”

“It’s decided.”

She wasn’t going to win, wasn’t even going to sway him enough to have Nathan stay out of sight. She glanced at the Private door and lowered her voice. “What happens if he bites a deliveryman?”

“That’ll depend on whether he’s hungry.”

She wanted to say, Ha, ha. Very funny. But she was pretty sure he wasn’t joking.

And she was sure he was right about the man who grabbed her. Sometimes dealing with the Others filled up her head so much, she forgot about the Controller.

“I should have been consulted.” She tried that tack one last time.

His only answer was to open the Private door, then unlock the front door and flip the sign to OPEN.

At least he had to use the go-through, since there was a Wolf clogging up the counter. When he came back into the sorting room, he tossed the keys in the drawer—and tossed her a look that made her want to slug him.

“Mr. Wolfgard . . .”