us.”
“Raven One, this is Cole. Paige and I are driving down to the Riverfront.”
When there was a long pause before he got his answer, Cole rolled his eyes and added, “Over.”
“Maintain a safe perimeter until we clear these things out. Over.”
“Frank’s still down there!”
“I think they know where I am,” Frank said through the earpiece. This time his voice was strained, which meant he must have been doing a lot more than running and jumping.
Cole didn’t have to search for long before he spotted Frank hanging from the rear leg of a Half Breed that had embedded its claws into the lower edge of the chopper. After a few pulls and a couple sharp jabs from his claws, the Squam convinced the werewolf to let go so it could twist around to snap at him. He pushed away from it as soon as he started to fall. Both he and the Half Breed dropped toward the pavement, but only Frank was agile enough to turn in midair to land on his feet. The Half Breed thumped heavily on its side, and would have broken its legs if they hadn’t already been snapped along with the rest of the bones in its body during its initial transformation. Despite the awkward landing, it flopped over and stood up so it could howl and roar along with the rest of the creatures.
“Come and get me,” Frank hissed. “Now!”
It was tough to read expressions on a Squam’s face or in a voice that sounded like two dry blocks rubbed together, but there was no mistaking Frank’s urgency. Paige focused even harder on the road and swerved toward the Riverfront. The helicopter gunner unleashed a steady torrent of automatic fire that should have shredded the Half Breeds. Although some of the creatures fell and were subsequently hacked to pieces by the large caliber rounds, most of them were batted around and enraged by the insistent gunfire. Those were the newer breed that had thicker hides and matching sets of tusks protruding from upper and lower jaws. Paige steered directly toward them, knowing that Cole would brace himself for the inevitable impact. Before they got close enough to worry about scraping creatures off the windshield, the car’s headlights splashed over a tall figure that landed in front of them.
Frank was dressed in thick canvas pants and several layers of thermal material that encased his body without doing much to hinder his movement. The headlights illuminated the pale yellow and tan scales covering his arms and glinted off of his darker yellow eyes. When Paige threw the car into a sideways skid, he moved back far enough to clear a path and then opened the rear passenger door to climb inside. “I think this is all we’ll flush out tonight,” he said, “but that gun won’t kill them all.”
“I know,” Paige replied while slamming the car into a lower gear. She tore away and headed back to the ramp and onto the highway. Not only had the IRD set up roadblocks to keep the overpass clear, but the helicopter swung around to fire at the remaining Half Breeds until the wave of creatures moved away from the Skinners.
Even after the roadblock, traffic was light on I-64. Once St. Louis and the river were behind them, Illinois stretched out ahead. A year ago Cole would have been glad to be back in the state where he’d spent the initial part of his career as Paige’s partner. In more recent times, however, the two of them had wandered so much that it hardly felt as if they had a home anymore. What hit him even harder was that if they returned to Chicago, they wouldn’t have anywhere to go. Rasa Hill was gone, and even Steph’s Blood Parlor had been torched during the Nymar uprising that resulted in most Skinners being placed on federal and state Most Wanted lists.
After the events surrounding the Breaking Moon, Cole and Paige hadn’t settled in one place long enough to call it home. The IRD provided them with quarters when they were close enough to a base within Adderson’s jurisdiction. Every now and then Cole found himself thinking back wistfully to the weeks he’d slept in an old walk-in freezer at the condemned restaurant he’d only known as Rasa Hill. To this day he still wasn’t certain if the faded lettering on the front of that building spelled Rasa or Raza.
“You are quiet,” Frank said.
“I’m driving,” Paige snapped.
The Squam pulled in a rasping breath. “You are always quiet. I meant Cole. Being silent this long usually means something’s wrong.”
Cole looked over to Paige, who seemed to have expected his glance. They didn’t have to say a word to each other before she let out a heavy breath and nodded to him.
“Whatever you’re thinking, you can say it to me,” Frank told them. “I deserve that much for putting my life on the line as living bait for you and those soldiers.”
“Not living bait,” Paige told him. “Scout.”
“Scouts run ahead and look for things,” Frank grunted. “I have to dodge bullets and hang from helicopters.”
“Scout plus?”
Although Frank’s yellow eyes were covered by translucent lids, they were still capable of conveying plenty of emotion. When Cole glanced back at the Squam, he could relate all too well to the frustration he saw in them.
“The answer to your next question is no,” Cole told him. “Being with her never gets any easier.”
Chapter Two
The IRD had their mobile outpost set up in Collinsville, which was a short drive from St. Louis. The outpost consisted of two large campers, three covered trucks, and two helicopters. By the time Paige parked between the campers, another helicopter was returning from the St. Louis Riverfront. Its machine gun had been pulled inside and the landing gear lowered so it could touch down and unload the three soldiers who had been riding inside. Judging by the spring in their step, the men hadn’t left the helicopter to engage any Half Breeds. Although none of the higher ranking officers acknowledged Frank with more than a careful glare, the soldiers all sought him out so they could give him a grateful nod or wave. Frank’s thin, reptilian lips curved into something of a smile when he accepted their show of respect.
Paige and Cole stood outside of the second camper, stomping their feet and enjoying the hot chocolate that had been served to them in a paper cup. It was a thin and watery mix, but Cole preferred it much better than the salty yellow water that was supposed to pass for chicken soup.
Not only was the wind brutally cold, but the sun had been down long enough for the smallest remnants of its light to have been long forgotten. Both Skinners stood in the bracing chill and turned their faces into the wind. Cole closed his eyes and savored the way his nose tingled and the wind whispered directly into his frosted ears. Embracing his humanity by reveling in the simpler things was a habit he’d picked up from Paige. One of the good ones.
“What’s wrong with you two?” asked a man who stood in the doorway to one of the campers. “After all that’s happening, you want to catch your death in the cold?”
“Be right in, Ma,” Cole said.
The man who’d scolded them was somewhere in his early forties, dressed in heavy black and gray fatigues, his light brown hair buzzed down to a perfectly even layer. Although Cole had been clipping his hair to within an inch of its life, the shears he used paled in comparison to the fine military precision that marked Major Adderson’s hair as well as everything else he wore, touched, or said. Obviously not threatened by the cold, Adderson scowled at the Skinners and stepped aside while propping the door open with the side of his boot.
Paige and Cole drank their hot chocolate until it was gone, but knew better than to make the major wait long before entering the camper. Inside, the vehicle had been stripped and refurbished with a row of computers and monitors along one side, several televisions bolted to the ceiling used to monitor national and local news broadcasts, and a communications setup on the other side. At the back of the confined quarters was a space that had probably contained a bed. Now there was a small square table with a built-in illuminated touch-sensitive screen. Mainly it was used to display maps and objectives for the various IRD operations in which Cole and Paige had taken part. As soon as the Skinners were inside, Adderson led them back to join the two men who sat there.
“This has been a long couple of days,” the major said, “and we all look like hell.”
Cole chuckled at that. Compared to Adderson, he and Paige always looked like hell.
