Dead Letter Day (22 page)

If Kevin was the one who’d made this silver, it raised a whole new host of questions, though. Why had he made it? How? When? And what the hell had this fragment been doing up by Paul’s cabin?

The answers didn’t set well with me. Kevin was Chuck’s second. His second is sort of like the vice principal at a high school. He’s the disciplinarian and often is in charge of training. He’d be the one to calm everyone down if there was an emergency, and maybe that was all he was trying to do by discouraging anyone from looking for Paul. Maybe.

Or maybe he didn’t want anyone looking for Paul because Paul was a threat to him at this point. If Kevin was going to make a play to take over the pack from Chuck, Paul could be an irreplaceable ally or a formidable opponent. I’d bet on the latter.

So why not challenge Paul directly? Why all the treachery?

I didn’t much like the answer to that either. If Paul had somehow caught wind of what Kevin was up to before Kevin was ready to put his plan into motion, a direct challenge would have been too public. Plus this served the added benefit of making it look like Chuck was possibly the weak one who had removed Paul from the scene with treachery instead of trying to rip out his throat with his teeth in the time-honored werewolf way.

9

THERE WAS NO WAY I WAS GETTING ANY INFORMATION from Sam tonight, but there was also no way I was going home without stopping at Chuck’s. If I had to go in blind, so be it. I’d go in blind.

I pulled into the driveway. There were close to a dozen vehicles parked around the house. Whatever was going on apparently called for the Pack to assemble.

Poor Michael Hollinger. I knew Chuck had a place where he kept werewolves that were out of control. I didn’t want to think about what that would be like. I also knew Chuck had his methods for dealing with wolves he couldn’t control. It was also something I didn’t particularly want to think about. It hadn’t been my problem before.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t my problem now. My only interest in Michael Hollinger was to find out if he had anything to do with Paul’s disappearance. His shell-shocked wife and his bratty little girl were none of my business. So
why the hell did thinking about them make me so uneasy. It had to be the hormones.

The door opened before I could even knock on it. Sam stood in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. He looked down at me. “Now is not a good time, Melina. Chuck is kind of busy.”

“I only need a minute,” I said. I looked up and fluttered my eyelashes the way I’d seen Norah do it when she was trying to get something from Alex. “It’s for Paul, Sam.”

His shoulders dropped. “I’ll ask. I’m not guaranteeing anything, though.”

I stepped inside the house and shut the door behind me. “Thanks.”

I cooled my heels in the hall. Although cool was about the last thing I was. There were so many wolves in this place, I felt jumpy in my own skin. The air was thick with worry and tension.

Whatever Michael Hollinger was, it wasn’t soothing to the Pack. After about fifteen minutes, Chuck finally came into the hall. He sat down next to me on the bench where I’d been waiting.

“You broke Michael Hollinger out of the psych ward, didn’t you?” I said, by way of a greeting.

Chuck shrugged. It was answer enough for me.

“What is he? What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure what’s going on, but I know that man is not a werewolf.” Chuck looked weary. He had that weight-of-the-world-on-his-shoulders kind of slouch. No wonder the Pack was getting restless. A tired Alpha wasn’t going to be able to maintain discipline.

I slouched right along with him. No one cared if a Messenger was tired. “Then what is he?”

“I’m not sure. There’s definitely some elements that are
totally like a new wolf at the full moon, but it’s not quite the whole enchilada.”

“I’m not sure Mexican food metaphors are appropriate here.”

“Why? Because everyone thinks the dude is a few tacos short of a full combination plate?” He tilted his head back against the wall.

“Actually, no. It’s because right now the thought of Mexican food is making me a little nauseous.”

He smiled at me. “I’ve heard the first few months can be kind of rough.”

“Yeah. You knew that first day I came up here looking for Paul, didn’t you?” That had been what Chuck had been lying about. He’d congratulated me and then had to lie about why.

He nodded.

I wasn’t sure what had tipped him off. “Heartbeat?”

“Nah. It’s more of a pheromone thing. I didn’t realize you didn’t know. Sorry about that.” He rubbed his hand across his face.

“Yeah, well, I figured it out soon enough. No harm. No foul.” I leaned back against the wall. “So what do we do with Hollinger?”

Chuck straightened his legs in front of himself as if they were stiff and sore. “That’s a good question. He’s not going anywhere until after the full moon. We’ll keep an eye on him through this one and see what happens.”

I shivered. “What made him become like this?”

“Well, it’s obviously that bite,” he said.

“So he was bitten by a werewolf?” Could Paul have done this?

Chuck snorted. “Not bloody likely. Not unless he was bitten by a werewolf in human form and I have never—never—heard of a werewolf biting someone in human form.”

Absolutes always make me uneasy. “Never?”

“Look. It’s not like I know of every single thing that has ever happened, but I’ve been around the block a few times. The biting instinct…well, it’s strongest when we’re in wolf form. It abates when we’re in human form.” He smiled, showing his perfectly even white teeth.

“Let’s say that it didn’t abate for somebody. Could a bite from a werewolf in human form cause what’s happening to Michael Hollinger?” There had to be some sequence of events that got Hollinger to this place.

Chuck sighed. “It’s a reasonable question. I’ll see what I can find out. It doesn’t seem likely, but I don’t have much else to go on at this point.”

“What about finding out who did the biting? Any luck there?” I pressed. At this point, I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be Paul or not. If it was him, at least he wasn’t being kept captive somewhere under that silver net.

He shook his head again. “Nope. I don’t think it’s anyone in the Pack. Actually, I’d pretty much swear to that.”

“Which leaves us where? Lone wolves traveling through?” It happened. If they came through someone’s territory, they were supposed to sort of check in, but let’s face it, there’s a reason a lone wolf is called a lone wolf. Rule following is not their strong point.

“It’s possible, but everything you’re telling me about it is so urban. If there were lone wolves hunting around here, I think we would have some sign of them in the wild.”

“It’s a pretty big wild out there.” Acres and acres and acres of it around here.

“True enough. Again, I’ll see if I can find anything out from anyone else.”

“Meanwhile, what do we do with Michael Hollinger?” I asked, looking toward the door.

“There’s no ‘we’ here,
kemo sabe
,” Chuck said. “We’ll get him through this full moon, then we’ll see if he calms down. We can’t exactly have a conversation with him right now.”

“And then?”

“Then we’ll see if we can teach him to control himself.” He grinned. “We have our methods, you know?”

I did. Sort of. I’d heard rumors. “Not exactly. Care to share?”

“Nah. I’d like to keep a few of our secrets intact.”

Secrets. Everyone seemed to have them these days. Apparently it was what all the cool kids were doing. “Do you think it has anything to do with Paul?” I asked.

Chuck looked over at me, clearly surprised. “What on earth could this have to do with Paul?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I know he’s not around and there’s weird stuff happening. I don’t like coincidences.”

“No one does, but sometimes they’re just that, Melina. I can tell you one thing for sure. Paul did not bite Michael Hollinger. In human form or in wolf form.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Chuck snorted. “If Paul had bitten him in wolf form, he’d be dead or he’d be a werewolf.”

“And if Paul bit him in human form?”

“It would never happen. Paul has too much control for that.” Chuck stood. “Go home, Melina. Leave this to us. If we need your help, I’ll let you know.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up his hand. “Go home. Take care of your own problems. Michael Hollinger isn’t one of them.” Then he turned and walked away.

I WAS BACK THE NEXT DAY LIKE A BAD PENNY. I JUST wasn’t going to make myself known. I had done surveillance with a werewolf before. It was awful. The ability to sit still
in a confined space—like a car—is not intrinsic to wolfiness. This, however, was going to be the first time I’d done surveillance on a werewolf. Maybe Chuck was right. Maybe Michael Hollinger was not my problem. Maybe Paul was fine. On the other hand, that scrap of silver had nearly jumped out of my pocket when Kevin was nearby. That meant something and the only way to figure out if it was my problem or not was to figure out what the hell Kevin was up to.

So here I was getting ready to do surveillance on a werewolf.

The pitfalls were numerous and many of them were obvious. There was that heightened sense of smell. Was he going to be able to catch a whiff of me? How far away did I have to stay to keep him from doing that? Paul was the person I would have asked, but that wasn’t going to happen.

Then there was his hearing. Would he be able to pick out the sound of the Buick from other cars? Would he notice that?

Plus, most werewolves were pretty wary, in wolf or human form. They walked around a little bit like cops, now that I thought about it. They stayed very aware of their surroundings, recognized cars and patterns of behavior. I wasn’t sure if they were looking for threats or prey, but either way, Kevin could well notice me or my Buick.

I was going to have to fight fire with a little flicker of flame. I had pretty badass hearing and vision, too. Not as badass as a werewolf, but then again, perhaps the element of stealth would work in my favor.

Knowledge was definitely going to be power in this situation. Or at least I hoped so. If it came to pound-for-pound strength, I was going down and I knew it. Kevin could rip me apart with his bare hands, or paws, depending on whether he was man or wolf at the moment. I parked the Buick a few
blocks away from the hardware store, off the main drag on a side street. Then I strolled down the sidewalk, trying to blend in with the window-shoppers on the street.

I am not much of a stroller. As lazy as I am, it’s a little surprising. Mainly I find time spent getting from one place to another to be a waste of said time, so I try to make it go as quickly as possible. That often takes the form of walking with both purpose and determination and driving a bit over the speed limit.

No one else on the sidewalk was walking with purpose and determination unless their purpose was to annoy me and they were determined to do it as quickly as possible. On the other side of the street, I saw a woman with an actual stroller. She looked like she was having nearly as much trouble as I was navigating through the random clumps of people who stopped abruptly in ways that can only be described as both arbitrary and capricious.

Wow. How much worse would this be with a kid? I’d have to get one of those sling things. I couldn’t see myself using a stroller unless it doubled as a battering ram. Maybe I could get a custom stroller with some sort of front apparatus. Preferably something sharp. Wow. Was I seriously mentally stroller shopping? I guess the reality of the situation was truly starting to sink in.

There was a truck parked behind the hardware store that I was pretty sure had to be Kevin’s. It had that battered contractor look to it, plus I’d seen it parked at Chuck’s the night before. The alley behind the store was narrow and it looked like traffic moved pretty much one way. So far, this was all working in my favor. That made me nervous. Clearly the universe was setting me up for a colossal fall.

I moved the Buick over to the side street that Kevin would have to come out on if I was right about the truck and the
one-way traffic. I found a spot where I could see him when he came out and crossed my fingers that he’d head away from the main street with its stop-and-go traffic and irritating pedestrians. It’s what I would do, and I personally don’t think Kevin was any more of a people werewolf than I was a people person.