Howling Legion

there and shay they’re fake. What about all the real ones?”

“They’ll still be out there, but they’ll look like the doctored ones. Trust me. People are more willing to believe they’ve spotted a phony than admit this stuff is real. That’s the beauty of it. By the way, do you know how difficult it was to make these pictures look just the right sort of fake?”

Paige spat in the sink.

“Not only did I have to figure out a bunch of little things that might show up in a doctored picture,” Cole continued, “but I had to use all my design expertise to put those ideas into action. A little shading here, a little misalignment there, some displaced objects in the foreground that don’t match up with the background. I’m telling you I’m one hell of an artist.”

Walking out of the bathroom while dabbing at her face, Paige said, “All right. I guess it sounds like a good idea. Post those pics on your website or stick them onto a discussion group and see how far they get circulated.”

Cole grinned and waggled his eyebrows in a way that was excited and unintentionally creepy at the same time. “And now for the next step in my beautiful plan. I’m not posting these. MEG is.”

Pausing with the towel against her chin, Paige finally looked at the laptop as if she truly knew what Cole was talking about. “You’re sure they’ll do that?”

“I talked to Stu and Abby about it while you were still asleep.”

“Who’s Abby?”

“The field investigator who’s answering phones because of a sprained ankle. She’s really funny and sounds cute.” Before he was cut short, Cole quickly added, “She’s got enough experience to know that MEG couldn’t just pretend these Half Breed pictures weren’t out there. They wouldn’t go so far as to purposely debunk something real, but they will post my pics just like they’d post anyone else’s.” Dropping his voice to a whisper even though nobody else was in the room, he added, “I even know a few conspiracy buffs at Digital Dreamers who live to spot this kind of stuff. I mean, we’re gonna take care of things here anyway, so who cares if rottweilers or escaped coyotes get the blame, right? This will defuse some panic and let it blow over when we’re done.”

Paige looked genuinely stunned. She squinted at the pictures on Cole’s computer, went through a few different facial expressions, and then finally looked up at him to say, “That’s a damn good idea! I can’t believe you came up with that.”

“I thank you for the first part and I’ll write off the second part to you being hungry. How about we hit the free breakfast downstairs?”

“Two for two, Cole. If you think of a way to keep Daniels from whining over our bagels, you’ll be my hero.”

Breakfast was served in a room just off the hotel’s modest lobby. There was a TV bracketed to the wall, a coffee machine, some bins of cereal next to a pitcher of milk, and a few plates of pastries laid out for the guests. Since it was the middle of the week, Paige, Cole, and Daniels only had to share the room with an elderly couple reading a newspaper.

“I believe I’ve hit another snag in…” Daniels paused to shoot the old folks a suspicious glare, and then leaned across the table to whisper, “That whole ink idea may not be such a good one.”

Paige leaned across and whispered, “You know, you draw more attention doing this than talking like a normal person.”

Daniels sat back and ran his hand over the spot on top of his head where the Nymar tendrils gathered to blacken his scalp. “Since I take it the Full Blood got away, I suppose you’ll want to take me home to continue real work on that project as soon as possible.”

“What do you mean ‘real’ work?” Paige snapped. “What the hell have you been doing all this time?”

Sensing a definite turn for the worse, Cole asked, “How’s Sally?”

Daniels nodded and smiled uncomfortably. “She’s doing well. The pol—” For some reason, Daniels was still bothered by the little old man and lady who nibbled on sweet rolls while handing sections of the paper back and forth to each other. “She’s been questioned about what happened, but didn’t mention any names. Apparently, the authorities were called about the shots that were fired that night, but there’s not enough of those two Nymar left to draw any suspicion.”

“They probably just figure we were firing at the big thing that crushed one of their cars,” Cole offered.

“Right. Sally told me some officers came by asking if an exotic pet escaped from one of the apartments and she went along with it. I suppose that’s that.”

Cole never thought he’d feel so apathetic about the police possibly looking for him, but he was starting to take on Paige’s attitude about the whole thing: if the cops were good enough to put so many crazy pieces together, then good for the cops.

“So,” Daniels said as he rattled his plastic stirring sticks around in his cream-filled coffee, “when do we head home?”

“You’ve got work to do,” Paige told him. “I didn’t bring you along to call your girlfriend and put together battery packs.”

“I’m doing my best!” Daniels whined. “Perhaps you should accept the fact that this whole idea of yours may not be safe. The work I’ve done has definitely uncovered some theories that could be put to use elsewhere, but—”

Dropping her elbow onto the table so she could stab a finger within an inch of the Nymar’s face, Paige said, “You’ll put them to use where I told you to put them. If you need someone to test it, just tell me when to show up and you can test it on me. I need you to finish this here and now.”

“That would be far too dangerous. You’re talking about…” This time when Daniels glanced over at the old couple, they were glancing nervously back at him. “You’re talking about injecting potentially hazardous, metallic elements directly under your skin. Even without the…more exotic…components, that isn’t something to rush into.”

Seeing the intense look in her eyes, Cole stepped in. “We need to drive around KC anyway to check on a few more dens, so you’ll have some more time.”

“No,” Paige said. “It’s too late for that. Even if the Half Breeds that showed up last night were the only ones, we know we didn’t get them all. The Full Blood got away from us, and it could have made plenty more already.”

The old couple shifted their eyes to Daniels, folded up their newspaper, and shuffled out of the dining room as fast as their slippered feet would carry them.

“Then we go after the big game,” Cole said. When Paige didn’t look up at him, he asked, “You do have a way to track down Full Bloods, right?”

“I can think of something,” she replied. “Daniels, what will it take to finish up your work?”

“I’ll cook up the next version of my mix, and try a few things.”

Paige dipped a dry piece of bagel into her coffee. “Fine. Just do what you need to do.”

“Then can we head back to Chicago?”

“As soon as we’re done here.”

“And what if those things get to us first?” Daniels asked.

Locking her gaze onto him, she replied, “If me and Cole get killed, you can fish the car keys out of my pocket and drive back. Good enough?”

Daniels winced, but tried to keep his face stern enough to match Paige’s expression. Failing miserably at that, he got up and headed for the elevator.

Now that he and Paige were the only ones in the room, Cole asked, “You don’t have a plan for what’s next, do you?”

“A lot of the stuff that’s happening right now has never happened before. At least, not on this scale. I’ll come up with something.”

He placed a hand on her arm and told her, “I’ve done plenty of big projects where time was a factor.”

“This isn’t exactly the same as designing a video game,” she said.

“Have you ever been the one to tell a convention hall full of ravenous fanboys that the game they’ve all been foaming at the mouth for is being pushed back eight months? It can get ugly. One scary looking bald dude had the first release date for Sniper Ranger 3 tattooed on his forearm. His sniping arm, is what he told me. When we canceled that date at an electronics expo, I was more afraid of him than any werewolf.”

Paige’s tired chuckle turned into more genuine laughter.

“We just need to break down what needs to be done into bite-sized pieces,” Cole said. “That Full Blood isn’t