“Don’t make dangerous assumptions, wolf.”
He eyed the ball of nightfire with a sneer.
“Don’t presume that a werewolf can be intimidated by an Agent’s power.”
I felt my magic rise to the surface, and I knew that my eyes had changed, become a field of stars on a canvas of black.
“What makes you think I am nothing but an Agent?” I replied.
The other wolves growled, and the air crackled with energy. I could see bones shifting beneath his skin, and for a moment I looked into a snarling canid face, and then he was a man again.
“Madeline,” Gabriel said, and there was a warning in his voice.
“Let me handle this,” I said quietly. I knew a little bit about wolves, having encountered them a time or two as an Agent. They respected strength, and they wouldn’t respect me or allow me to help them if I cowered behind Gabriel.
“You don’t want to make an enemy of me, Agent,” the redheaded wolf said.
“And I don’t want to be your enemy,” I said steadily, still balancing the ball of nightfire on my hand.
The smaller wolf that stood just behind the other two looked like he might be calculating how best to leap over his compatriots and rip my throat out. I hoped that Gabriel would jump right into the fray if that happened, because the big guy seemed like he was working up a good head of steam.
I prayed that no one was looking out their back windows into the alley, because if they were, they were going to get a show. The last thing I wanted was a video of me throwing nightfire at a couple of werewolves to end up on YouTube.
The second werewolf cocked his head at me, doglike and curious. “What is it that you want, then?”
“To find out why these wolves are being killed,” I said.
He gave me an appraising look. Then he laid a restraining hand on the first. “Jude, enough.”
I realized that I’d gotten their relationship wrong. The redhead was beneath the second wolf in the social order. I’d assumed that since he had taken the lead and acted aggressively that Jude was more alpha than the other. Those kinds of prejudices could get me killed. The alpha was always the most dangerous wolf in the pack.
He studied me, sniffing the air as he did so. “You’re telling the truth.”
“Of course I am,” I said, a little miffed.
“But the truth can hide evil intentions,” the third wolf said, and I hadn’t been wrong about the venom in his eyes. It was in his voice, too. “And you do smell like Lucifer.”
“I’m his great-granddaughter,” I said. This wasn’t information that I usually liked to share with strangers, but they would continue to be suspicious of me without it.
The alpha raised an eyebrow at me. “Then you can only be Madeline Black, daughter of Azazel.”
I mirrored his expression. “You seem to have the better of me.”
He narrowed his eyes for a moment, then seemed to come to some decision. “I am Tyrone Jackson Wade, alpha of the Red Pack of Wisconsin. You may call me Wade. En Taro Adun!”
I was a little disconcerted by his odd greeting, but before I had a chance to ask him about it, he stuck a huge hand out for me to shake. I realized I was still holding the ball of nightfire. I quickly doused the fire and put my small hand in his.
Wade gripped it, and pulled me closer, his eyes searching. “Are you a true friend of the wolves?”
Something about the way he asked it made me think that this wasn’t a casual question, and I’d been around the magical block enough to know that some words were binding. I saw Gabriel shake his head, ever so slightly, out of the corner of my eye.
I took a deep breath. I had no quarrel with the wolves. Lord knew that Lucifer and Azazel probably had some master plan involving werewolves as they seemed to have for every race, but I wasn’t privy to all of their machinations. And I wasn’t about to let Gabriel dictate whom I could and could not befriend.
“I am,” I said, and then I shivered a little as magic shimmered in the air.
Wade grinned, showing a row of white, white teeth. “Then the wolves are also friends to you, Madeline Black. Tell me, what interest have you in finding the wolf-killer?”
I hesitated. Wade seemed to know a lot about fallen angels, but I was certain that Samiel’s existence was a closely kept secret. And as Beezle had pointed out, there was no way to be sure that Samiel was killing them. Even if I was a true friend of the wolves, there was no need to make them privy to every shadow in Lucifer’s kingdom.
“I came upon the first murder site by accident after feeling a magical pulse in the area,” I said. I felt it was important to tell the truth as much as possible, since Wade seemed to be able to tell when a person lied. “We followed the trail of magic to the body. I was . . . horrified by the murder, and wanted to find out who killed the wolf, but we were unable to discover anything concrete.”
“And today?”
“I was grocery shopping at Jewel when the same thing happened.”
Wade sniffed the air. I felt tense. I needed the wolf to believe me. I already had enough magical conflicts in my life without arousing the ire of a pack of werewolves.
“Very well,” he said, and some of the tension drained out of me. “We would appreciate the assistance of Lucifer’s granddaughter in this matter.”
“How is it that you know Lucifer?” I said curiously.
“I have met with him before, as a representative of my people in negotiations with the fallen,” he said, and grinned. “The werewolves of Wisconsin are sworn enemies of Lucifer. I am sure your great-grandfather will be happy to hear that you have reestablished good relations.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. I’d just stepped in it, again.
“Never, ever play chess with a master, Maddy,” Beezle mumbled from inside his coat.
Forget chess. I was still playing Candy Land.
A little while later we parted ways from my new pals, having discovered nothing especially helpful. Wade, Jude and the third wolf, whose name was James, had sniffed around the site and said that angels had been present, but also something that they could not identify. I’d carefully avoided Gabriel’s glance when the men said that. There was no need to share any information about Ramuell or Samiel with the pack.
The three wolves gathered up the remains of their pack member in a black plastic garbage bag. I valiantly suppressed the urge to boot as they scooped completely unidentifiable bits of flesh and bone into the sack. Jude glared sullenly at Gabriel and myself all the while, like he would follow his alpha’s orders but was reserving judgment on us. James tracked me constantly with his disconcerting gaze. Obviously the other two wolves did not share Wade’s assessment of me.
As they departed, Wade called out, “We will meet again, Madeline Black. En Taro Adun!”
“What the hell does that mean?” I muttered to Beezle.
“Do I look like some kind of dog translator?” he snapped. He was feeling cranky because he’d missed out on doughnuts—I’d dropped the basket at Jewel—and he’d also missed his usual morning nap in his perch.
“No,” I said vaguely. “It doesn’t sound like werewolf language.”
“And what would you know about werewolf language?” Beezle grumbled.
I ignored his jibe. Normally I enjoyed sparring with Beezle when he was grumpy, but I was worried about what Lucifer would say when he discovered that I had reestablished relations with the werewolves of Wisconsin. Would he be pleased? Would he be furious? I couldn’t care less if he was pleased, since getting Lucifer’s approval was not high on my to-do list. But I really didn’t want him angry with me. I had enough problems without being in the soup with the Prince of Darkness.
Gabriel had tried to warn me. I’d seen the little shake of the head, telling me not to do what I was about to do. But I had done it anyway. I understood that I didn’t know my way around this world yet, and that I needed guidance. But it chafed when I felt like someone else was always making my decisions for me.
“Of course, decisions don’t seem to be my best thing,” I muttered to myself.
“What? What?” Beezle shouted. “You’ll have to speak up. I’m an old gargoyle and I’m feeling faint from lack of nourishment.”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Gabriel, let’s take this baby home so that he can eat.”
“Popcorn!” Beezle said.
