The Frenzy War (17 page)

“Now, I want to know how many werewolves occupy New York City. I mean, Manhattan and the surrounding boroughs. I also want to know the first and last names of every werewolf you know. Think back to your childhood, which wasn't so long ago, and tell me every single person you and your parents socialized with. When possible, provide an address, even a general location.”

“There's no such thing as werewolves,” Rhonda said.

The man gestured around the room. “This is not a fantasy, not a dream. You're here, and so are we. You've revealed your true nature to us. There's no escape, either physically or psychologically. Tell us what we want to know, or we'll kill your parents.”

“Fuck you.” It felt good to say the words.

The man smiled at her. He scooped up the muzzle and placed it over her face again.

Before he could secure the straps, she willed the Change and snapped her jaws at him. The Transformation took too long, and her Wolf jaws were not fully extended when they snapped shut, so she only caught his nose instead of his entire face.

The man screamed, blood fountaining out of the gaping hole where his proboscis had been. He fell back, still screaming, his face awash in his own blood.

As Rhonda felt her fur spreading over her body, she chewed on the nose, savoring its foul taste.

Let them try to reattach it.

She heard a pop and felt pain between her breasts, nothing compared to the pain she had just endured. Turning her head, she saw the woman holding the tranq gun, which she had discharged. Rhonda spat what remained of the nose at the woman, who stepped aside to avoid the gnarled and bloody flesh. Out of the corner of her left eye, Rhonda saw the black man reach behind him and draw a sword from the scabbard strapped to his back.

The Blade of Salvation
…

With a fiery look in his eyes and his teeth clenched, the man ran straight at her, cocking the sword behind his head.

“No!” the man without a nose said.

Rhonda bowed her head forward, trying to protect her throat with her snout. But the black man did not swing the blade at her neck; instead he buried it in the joint of her right arm with a great thwack. Rhonda watched in disbelief as her claw and the lower half of her arm fell to the floor, and the remaining stump of her arm, liberated from the leather strap, sprang upward, pumping blood. Then the sedative took effect and she lost consciousness.

Mace felt awkward reentering his old stomping ground, the Detective Bureau Manhattan on East Twenty-first Street. None of the POs loitering outside seemed to recognize him. Or maybe they knew his identity and just didn't care about Captain K-9.

Not anymore,
he thought as he pressed the elevator button.

On the fourth floor he walked along the hallway, the walls painted lime green on top and brown on the bottom, to the open double doors of Manhattan Homicide South. Listening to his rubber-soled shoes squeak on the floor tiles, he experienced a rush of familiarity. The squad room had not changed; the desks were arranged the same way they had been when he had served here. Sergeant Don Gibbons sat at the desk used by Ken Landry during the day. As a lieutenant, Mace had occupied that office for three years.

Landry stood in the office of Captain Bill Aiello, speaking
to the tall man. Mace had occupied the captain's office for a far shorter period of time, when the Manhattan Werewolf had preyed upon the city. Landry and Aiello appeared to be deep in conversation, the office door closed.

Willy Diega sat at his old desk, speaking on the phone, his jacket off and his tie loose around his neck. Also on the phone, a black woman who wore her short hair tight to her scalp sat at the desk opposite him. Willy had mentioned Karol Williams to Mace, who had never met her. As Mace approached Willy, the detective looked up at him, his eyes registering surprise. Willy raised one finger, indicating he would be off the phone in a moment.

Gibbons exited his office and walked over. “Anthony, how are you?”

Mace shook the older man's hand. “Good to see you, Don. Why haven't you retired yet?”

“Believe it or not, I just put my papers in. Six more weeks, my friend.”

“Good for you. Fishing in Florida?”

“You know it. How about you?”

“I've still got two years left. I don't plan to hang around like you did.”

“That's understandable,” Gibbons said in a low voice. “What brings you here?”

Mace watched Willy hang up. “I need to speak to Willy actually.”

“Oh.” Gibbons sounded surprised. “Well, it was nice seeing you.” He clasped Mace's hand. “Say hello to Cheryl for me.”

“I will.”

As Gibbons returned to his office, Willy stood. “What's up, Tone?”

Mace nodded in the direction of the interview rooms. “In private.”

Willy shrugged. “Sure.”

Mace followed Willy into an available interview room. Willy remained standing, so Mace did too.

“Before you ask, I can't share information with you about any active investigations.” Willy dropped his voice to a whisper. “The feds are crawling all over this.”

Mace suppressed a smile. “The brass is putting me in charge of a task force that will take over your current cases. I'm taking you with me.”

Willy folded his arms and spoke in a skeptical tone. “Tony Mace back from the dead? How did you pull that off?”

“They came to me. Apparently they consider me an expert.”

“That's awesome. I'm happy for you. And I'm happy you're taking over the case, because I don't want it. And I don't want to serve on your task force.”

“I'm not looking for volunteers. This is a done deal.”

Willy snorted. “I didn't join the force to fight … you know.” He made a comical howling sound.

“I'm not going to discuss the task force's objective here.”

“That's fine with me. I don't need to know anything, because I'm staying put.”

“I've arranged for your promotion to go through. Starting tomorrow, you'll be a lieutenant.”

“Huh. You're full of surprises tonight. The freeze is department wide.”

“I made it one condition of my taking this assignment.”

“You've really learned to play the game, haven't you?”

“I always knew how to play it. I just got waylaid. This is no game, though.”

“I earned that promotion. I shouldn't have to accept a transfer to get it.”

“This is how the world works. I need you, just like I need Landry.”

“What about what I need? I still have nightmares, don't you? No promotion is going to change that.”

I have worse nightmares than you do,
Mace thought. “You
are
coming with me. So is Williams.”

Willy aimed a finger at Mace's heart. “Uh-uh. No way. You leave her out of this.”

“You're partners, and she's already familiar with the crime scenes and the evidence. She's in the mix, whether you like it or not.”

“Oh yeah? We'll see about that.” Willy headed for the door, which opened before he reached it.

Karol walked in. “Where do you come offspeaking for me?”

Willy glanced at the mirrored viewing window. “What, are you spying on me?”

Landry entered behind Karol, then Aiello brought up the rear and closed the door.

“This concerns me too.” Karol faced Mace. “I want in on this operation, Captain. Thank you for the opportunity.”

Willy raised his hands to the ceiling. “Opportunity? Jesus, why does everyone put their careers ahead of their lives?
Mira,
this is a
dangerous
assignment. You're not ready for it.”
He turned to Aiello. “She's too green.”

“It isn't my call, Diega.” Aiello glanced at Mace.

“I'm sorry, Bill. I hate to deplete your resources like this, but I know who I need.”

Aiello spoke in a tight voice. “What can I say? We all serve the machine.” He looked at Landry and the detectives. “If you'll excuse me, I understand this is a classified operation.”

The room quieted until Aiello closed the door behind him. “This is bullshit,” Willy said.

“Get it off your chest now,
Lieutenant”
Mace said with an edge in his voice.

“Congratulations, Willy,” Landry said. “Thanks. Did you get a promotion too?”

“No such luck.”

“See what playing nice gets you?” Landry shrugged. “I go where I'm needed.”

“Aren't you the good soldier?”

“Watch it. You're not a lieutenant until tomorrow.”

“So put me on report.” Willy pointed at Karol. “You know she isn't ready for this, but you didn't say anything?”

“First of all, I disagree. Williams has proven herself capable.”

“Thank you,” Karol said.

“Secondly, even if I did agree with you, my opinion wouldn't matter. I got drafted just like you.”

Everyone in the room turned to Mace.

“Let's go get something to drink,” he said.

Gabriel led Elias into the foyer of the safe house, followed by Raphael. Arick, who had opened the door, closed it now and turned the locks.

“Arick, this is Elias,” Gabriel said. “He'll be staying here indefinitely.”

Gabriel watched Arick size up Elias. Although his reaction to the visiting alpha was cool, he offered his hand, which Elias shook.

“Leave us now,” Gabriel said.

Arick appeared to be hurt by Gabriel's order. “I'll be in the basement.” He walked to a door in the hall, opened it, and descended the creaking stairs on the other side.

“The spare room is upstairs to the left of the bathroom,” Gabriel said. “It's yours as long as you need it.”

“Thank you,” Elias said.

Several suitcases and boxes had been stacked beside the curved stairway.

“Daddy!”

A staccato of footsteps on the hardwood floor preceded the blurred appearance of two boys who ran to Gabriel. Kneeling, he embraced the twins.

“You're home!” Damien said.

“Mama says we're going on a trip!” Gareth said.

“That's right,” Gabriel said.

“Will you come with us?” Damien said.

“No, not right now. Maybe I'll join you later.”

Gareth pointed at Elias. “Who's that?”

Gabriel stood. “This is my friend Elias. He's going to keep me company while you're away, so I don't get lonely.”

Gareth moved forward, extending one hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

With an amused look in his eyes, Elias shook the tiny hand. “Pleased to meet
you.”

Damien stood rigid, and Gabriel nodded at him. With slow steps, the boy joined his brother and held out a stiff hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Elias shook Damien's hand. “Pleased to meet
you,
my friend.”

Gabriel smiled. “They're so different.”

Melissa appeared in the doorway leading to the dining room, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up and the top buttons loose. She wore jeans, her hair pulled back. On seeing Elias, she stopped.

“Hello,” Elias said.

“Hello.”

“This is Elias Michalakis,” Gabriel said. “He's visiting from Greece.”

“I've never met any of our people from Greece,” Melissa said.

“We're a rare breed,” Eias said.

“Elias will be staying here while you're gone,” Gabriel said. “I see.” Melissa's voice conveyed true understanding. “Boys, finish your dinner.”

“But I want to—”

“Now.” She cut Damien off.

Frowning, both boys disappeared into the kitchen.

“I'll see to my room now,” Elias said.

“Let us know if you need anything,” Melissa said.

“I will. Thank you.” Elias climbed the stairs.

Gabriel felt tension radiating from Melissa.

“I'd better go. There's a lot of organizing to do.” Raphael moved to Melissa, kissed her cheek, and left.

Melissa raised her gaze upstairs, then fastened it on Gabriel. “That man is a killer. I smell it all over him.”