Tales Of The Sazi 05 - Moon's Fury (24 page)

She'd shut off the truck under a low hanging tree at the entrance to a field of bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush, letting the truth of the words wash over her as she watched the wind make patterns in the blooms. Her words came out as a whisper. "Fuck. I already did, Yo. I didn't have Lucas's number, and he was going to see him later today—”

"Pfft! You could have found the old man's number with one call, and you know it. Give it up, girlfriend. You're hooked and you're in deep shit. Just get over it and accept the facts.”

God, maybe she should have let Yo drive after all because she just wanted to turn into a blubbering mass in the corner. A solemn, nearly flat tone invaded her voice, the resignation before the inevitable. "So, what do I do about it?”

She felt her friend's hand on her arm, and the rush of warm cinnamon and sugar into her nose from the comforting smile. "It isn't a death sentence, Lottie. I know it's scary, and way more so in your case. But just admit you liked Adam pushing you against the truck and running his hands over you while he kissed you…in that absolute stillness right before the dawn. No cars, no birds—just the two of you letting loose of your fears." The words caught Cara by surprise. She hadn't gone into that much detail. But Yolanda just shrugged and gave a little smile. "Uh, hello? I moved a week ago, remember? Duh!

You were necking about ten feet from my bathroom window. Why do you think I asked?”

The laughter that bubbled out of Cara was so sudden that it nearly gave her a headache. Had she subconsciously remembered that when she parked behind the shop?
¡Madre de Dios!
How insane was that?

"You were such a puddle after he left—you sat in the truck without starting it for almost twenty minutes with a goofy look on your face—that I nearly came outside to check on you. So I can say with complete authority that you are
toast
when it comes to that man, and you need to stand up to your pack about him. Yeah, Paco will get a little miffed about it, but he'll get over it. Adam will have to prove himself, but he'll get over it. And you need to stand up on your hind legs and be a
woman …
which is about ten times tougher than being a man." She raised her brows and crossed her arms over her chest.

"So, you asked for my advice, and here it is: You get your ass out there, find those birds like the awesome cop I know you are, and you sit your pack down and lay down the law. Then you call your man and tell him to get his sweet butt back here so you can strip him naked and have your way with him.”

"Yolanda!" If her friend could smell emotions, she would find that humor was right underneath the embarrassment that flushed her face.

A broad smile flashed white teeth that nearly matched the paint job. "Hey, I just calls 'em as I sees 'em." But then the grin fell away, as though being sucked off, along with all the color in her face. Fear, bordering on ammonia panic, swept away the cookie spices. She was staring over Cara's shoulder and when her arm pulled away from her chest, the finger she pointed was trembling just a little. "But Speaking of seeing 'em, is
that
one of the badass birds?”

Cara turned in her seat quickly, just in time to spot a massive owl sailing past the driver's window, probably the one she'd injured as it was missing feathers on its leg. She tried to imagine how Yolanda saw it, since she'd never gotten accustomed to the size like Cara had with Will around. It had a wingspan nearly the length of her extended cab, extended bed truck and was carrying a full grown hog in its talons, already limp and bloody. It was flying parallel to the road they were already on and the tree overhang would hide the truck from the air if she didn't raise a dust cloud. "Shit. Grab the binoculars from behind your seat and then buckle up, Yo. We're gonna go do a little
bird-watching."
17

Other than the extra cars parked in the lot outside the private health club that served as pack headquarters, the scene looked absolutely normal. But David, who had picked him up from the airport, warned him he was going to be shocked.

"So, how many Wolven people have showed up so far?" His little brother turned the steering wheel and drove down the line of cars before pulling into a slot. Adam recognized most of the cars—

about a dozen pack members were already here. There was a black SUV with Illinois plates and two rental sedans he didn't know. "Just the original two agents and the council guy who's running the force now. I don't know if they're sending anyone else. Everyone's being really closemouthed. Mom was here earlier, but she couldn't handle the scene. Tommy and Jill and a couple others have been cleaning up blood all morning, so it might not be as bad as it was earlier. Remember that steakhouse drive-by a while back? How there was blood and glass
everywhere
—floor, ceiling, walls …even splattered across the flowers?”

Adam nodded. His brother was on the local force, too. They'd both been working the same shift that night. "Yah. That bad?”

The laugh was brittle enough to make him wince as David turned off the key and unbuckled his belt.
"Waay
worse. When I left to pick you up, Roberta was on her way to the store to buy about a dozen pails of Kilz—the oil-based kind. The drywall soaked up the blood and it's going to stink to high heaven even after scrubbing. Personally, I don't care how much bacteria the stuff kills.…I mean, Tommy said it's good shit, he swears it worked when the sewer backed up in his laundry room last fall, but I think we're going to have to tear out a few walls in the reception area. I can't even imagine how the pack is going to respond next week on the moon. We're going to have a lot of freaked out wolves, smelling the blood of so many pack mates.”

They were out of the car, walking toward the entrance when Adam stopped. David took a few more steps and then paused as well, waiting.

Maybe it was spotting his brother tense, or the scent of mild fear that drifted to him. But, like a small child who doesn't want to leave the safety of the covers to close the closet door, he wanted to enjoy the scents of
home
for just a minute before entering hell. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. It had rained the night before, and the air was cool and wet, filled with ozone and the scent of pink and yellow tulips, which had burst out of the planters around the front door. The smells were so very different than down in Texas, where purple lupines were a unique dark blue and daisies fought for the attention of his nose, and the air felt as though it would burn his lungs with each breath. A distant siren made his ears perk and his brother likewise turned to the sound, not quite consciously. There hadn't been any sirens while he was in Santa Helena, except for the testing of the fire engines each morning. He was surprised to realize he had found it more than a little refreshing and even now, his muscles tightened as a second car joined the first toward a distant problem. Maybe he
was
getting burned out, even though it had never occurred to him.

"You ready?" David asked the question calmly, a hand on his jean-clad hip just above the chain that was always attached from his belt loop to his wallet. The scents of concern and understanding flowed from him.

Adam squared his shoulders and nodded. "Let's do it.”

Even though David had done his best, there was no way to truly prepare for the sights and smells that hit him as he walked through the door. Multiple eyes turned as he opened the glass door that bore deep cracks and a scattering of bullet holes. They'd been covered by masking tape so they weren't obvious, but it was amazing to him that there wasn't any yellow tape blocking the door to climb under, nor familiar uniforms taking photographs of the scene.

It was the
lack
of things he noticed first. The comfortable leather couch was gone, and so was the grand old corner table, made of mahogany and marble. In their place were two of the white plastic patio chairs normally scattered around the swimming pool in back, and the small table from Josef's office down the hall. The walls were damp to his waist and the paint faded from scrubbing. But it was the smells that got him most…worse than he'd expected. Fear and pain, blood and bile that even ammonia cleaner couldn't mask. Over it all was the drowning deep scent of sorrow that covered everything like a dark shroud.

"Adam! Oh thank God you're back!" Jill Taylor dropped a sponge into a pail of foamy, pink-tinted water and threw herself into his arms. She began to sob, clutching his back with desperate intensity while her husband Tommy looked on, appearing as though he'd like to do the same. Instead, he raised his chin in greeting and set his jaw while blinking back wetness angrily.

"Sorry you have to see this, Second." His voice cracked enough that he stopped, refusing to give in to the urge to break down.

Adam held Jill, petting her short blonde hair like a child, while he nodded grimly back to Tommy, his friend for so many years and the pack's Third. He and Jill had been one of the families he'd considered taking down. "I'm sorry you had to
live
it, Tom." And he was. He should have been here, should never have left the pack in the care of a madman. Tommy's rolled-up sleeves revealed gashes and bruises, along with one hole with burned edges that told Adam he'd been among those Josef had used as cannon fodder against the Sazi agents. Nobody in their pack, save those on the force, used guns…and certainly they didn't have silver ammo that would char flesh.

David didn't meet the eyes of either of them. He just walked past Tommy toward the locker room, his emotional scent lost under others too strong and visceral. He hadn't asked his brother if he had any healing wounds, and David had been careful to shower with peppermint soap so he wouldn't know. Peppermint could hide a world of ills and part of him wished he could spray it all over the building. Adam never would have believed this of his pack leader, even if someone had told him—had predicted it. He would have laughed at the absurdity.

"Thanks for getting back here so quick, Adam." Lucas's quiet, serious voice from the hallway made him turn his head and, strangely, fight back a growl. He reluctantly pulled himself free from Jill's grasp. Tommy stepped forward and eased her away, then put an arm around his shaking wife to lead her back to a chair to sit.

He started to follow Lucas down the hallway but turned back to look at the others before he rounded the corner. "Tommy." The older man raised his head. "Why don't you take Jill out to sit in the garden for a little while? I think you guys could use a break.”

Tommy nodded gratefully and squatted down next to his wife, lifting her chin to whisper to her and kiss away her tears. Adam left them to deal with it, but he was definitely going to have to talk to someone about getting a Sazi psychiatrist in here to help his people pick up the pieces.
His people.
Yah, underneath all his worries and fears of ruling them, he was the only leader they had now. He
would
protect them.

He walked down the hallway, trying to shake the scent of blood that permeated everything. Probably it had been a good idea for someone to remove the bulbs in the hallway. It was one thing to smell the blood, but the dark spatters and dents in the pale peach paint were a little easier to ignore in the dimness.

Lucas disappeared into Josef's office. Adam was a little annoyed that someone would just set up shop in a private office, but then again, it really wasn't Josef's anymore— not if
he
had any say in the matter.

Adam walked in to find that Lucas had planted himself behind the desk. This time he did growl, low and meaningful. The older man raised his brows and nodded before relinquishing the chair to him without a word. What in the world was he doing, growling at the Wolven Chief? Was he suddenly feeling suicidal? Did he
want
someone to kick the shit out of him? He didn't approach the chair, but something in the action by Lucas satisfied whatever was bothering him.

Two other men were in the room, which had been remarkably spared from the battle that raged outside. They were sitting in the high-backed wing chairs and looked suitably weary while sipping whiskey from lead crystal glasses. Adam recognized the slender dark-skinned man who carried the dusty scent that said
snake
and he dipped his chin in greeting. "Hey, Bobby. Sorry about all this.”

Bobby stood up and took one step before leaning forward fluidly and holding out a hand that looked like a puppy had used it for a chew toy. "Been a long time, Adam. And don't worry. We know none of this was your fault." Adam shook the hand firmly, because Bobby would be insulted at anything less, before leaning up against the desk. Bobby nodded toward the third man. "You met Tony Giambrocco yet?”

He shook his head and looked Tony over. He was about Adam's own age, with dark brown hair and blue gray eyes. It was obvious he'd taken the brunt of the attacks the day before. A gash from hairline to neck sliced through the corner of his mouth. It was slowly healing and his throat had obviously had fangs try to tear it out. Tony was likewise appraising him, watching his every movement with eerie calm. He picked up his glass with a black gloved hand and raised it in a light salute that revealed a shoulder holster with a loaded .44 revolver under his suit jacket.

Adam didn't find it difficult to imagine this man as an assassin. He had that cold, empty look to his eyes that said yesterday had been all in a day's work. If he saw this person in a crowd, he'd be the focus of attention—the single threat to be watched. Tony's thin smile didn't reveal a thing about what he was actually thinking. The only surprising part to Adam was that he was one of the
good guys
here. He probably should acknowledge that. "Thanks for your help yesterday, Agent. Lucas said you tried hard to keep casualties to a minimum.”

Tony smiled with the same black humor he'd expect from one of the guys in the squad room and chuckled lightly. "Well, I kept
deaths
to a minimum, anyway. Bobby took care of those. But casualties

…no, most of them were mine. I just wish it hadn't taken so damned long to
find
Josef—the fucking coward. He was hiding in the back room, directing the other wolves like puppets on parade. It was pretty clear there was nobody home in the eyes of the first ones to attack us. Once we put him out, the rest of the pack snapped to and stopped trying to kill Bobby and me." He stopped and cocked his head and all the humor dropped off his face. "But you …I imagine you would have been out in front of the troops in the same scenario. It's probably best you were somewhere else. I would have seen you as a threat.”

A dark smile, closer to a baring of teeth, came to Adam's face as Tony took a careful sip of amber liquid, wincing a little when it apparently stung the wound. "Likewise, I'm sure.”

Lucas cleared his throat and they all turned their attention. "Adam, the only reason Bobby and Tony are still here is I wanted them to meet you. You're all agents now, and I'd prefer for agents to start to meet each other in controlled settings. They're on their way to Ziri's village to question her family, via Santa Helena. I'm hoping you have a direct number to Alpha Salinas, so I can let her know they're coming. I think Tony can manage what I couldn't in finding out what Ziri saw.”

He reached for his pocket and extracted the card. "I do, and that reminds me—Carita did some research down there and found out some information about the…situation." He wasn't sure if the others knew the details, but they must at least know something to be going down to investigate. "Should I give you the intel now, or would you prefer it in private?”