My eyes shifted to my watch again. "But I still don't know what Bryan has to do with this. If I can ensure that Dusty is safe with you, the pack can keep her. I never intended to give her back to Quinn. I'm not working for him."
"No, you're working for that slimeball, Dylan Shea. Not much better, Reilly. He's under Monica's thumb, so if he knows where she is, she'll know." I wasn't going to discuss Dylan's recent
allegiance shift, because it was immaterial. "So, again—what has Bryan got to do with this?" Mary took a deep breath and I heard a grating sound as her teeth ground together. "Like I said, reality sucks. I'll be straight with you, Kate. I know you. Your brothers mean everything to you. If it's a choice between Bryan or Joe, and anyone
else—you'll pick them. I can't afford that." I felt my face fall into a look of disgust and anger.
" Fuck you, Mary! That is just flat insulting! I would do no such thing! Dusty's not a trading card to be swapped for someone else's life. I'd die before I let any of them get killed." Mary wasn't surprised by my anger. She just stared at me calmly, and her next words put an icy chill down my spine that I couldn't seem to shake.
"Monica won't kill them, Kate. She'll make them long for death; pray for release, but never get it. And she'll make sure that you get a front row seat, even if it's in your head. Bryan's an innocent. He wouldn't even understand. He'd only scream, and scream, and never know why. It's why you're so panicked right now. You know it. What will you risk to save him, Kate? Who will you risk? I won't lose Dusty, and I can't afford to have you sacrifice yourself."
She struck home with that one. Because part of me knew that I might well give myself to Monica before I'd let her hurt Bryan.
"And why is that any of your business? I said I won't let Dusty get hurt."
Her smile was sad but her eyes were fierce and determined. "I can't let you be the next Thrall queen, Kate. You're too damned tough and too smart. There's always been balance between the wolves and the Thrall. But Monica has upset that balance, and if you were queen, you'd take
advantage of it. Kate Reilly and Queen Kate of the Thrall wouldn't be the same, and you know it. You know that the hive would take full advantage of every skill you possess to their advantage, and eliminate your honor, your morals, your belief in truth and faith and God. Everything that makes you you. You would be the Terminator for real, and your Hosts would be extensions of your wrath. We would die. By your hand. And you would enjoy each death. You would revel in the blood of your enemies."
She'd said it so calmly, but I couldn't seem to breathe past the reality of the words. Heaven help me, she was right. My mouth opened to speak, but I couldn't seem to be able to put words together. She took a slow, deep breath. "So. We have to get Bryan back for you, and protect him until Monica is gone. I arranged for Chuck King's detective job, so that you'd have an apartment available for Tom to watch this building and your tenant, and already have my people following Joe and staking out the church. I don't worry about you, so long as the others are safe. I believe you can either kill Monica, or wait her out, so long as no one you love is in danger."
Mary stood up, but I couldn't seem to get my muscles to cooperate to do the same. But I could finally speak. "That's a lot of effort on your part just so my life stays sane. Should I be flattered?" She shrugged and turned to leave. "Be flattered or don't. I'm just trying to protect my pack as best I can." Her hand was on the knob when she stopped.
"Oh, and speaking of which—stay away from Tom, please."
I did stand then and walked toward her. "You don't get to pick who your pack does and doesn't date, Mary. That's stepping too far over the line." The light from the table lamp caught her hair and gave it blue highlights as she turned. "Actually, every Acca gets to pick. Normally I don't, both because I don't care, and because I believe it's wrong. But this is an exception. Tom is one of the strongest males I've ever encountered. He retains his full human mind in animal form. His body proportion makes him blend in with humans. Those are incredibly rare and exciting things in our kind." She stopped and looked at me significantly. "It's very likely that he would pass those traits onto his children—"
I suddenly understood. "And I'm sterile because of the Thrall bite."
She nodded. "I have to protect my pack. You're a dominant female, and he will be attracted to you. He's handsome, and charming and—"
My chuckle was both sad and angry. Not at
Tom, but at myself. "And not interested in me. Nor me in him."
Her jaw actually dropped a bit. "Really? That surprises me."
I crossed my arms over my chest, but they
wrapped around like I was hugging myself instead. Maybe I was. "He made it very clear that we were on opposite sides of this issue, and offered to move out so we didn't have to live in the same building. The more I think about it, the better of an idea I think it is."
Mary waggled her head. "Well, I guess that's good—and bad. I need to send out my best
tracker to help you find Bryan. One who also has the ability to make sure that you're not captured." She stepped back and opened the door.
Tom was standing there, looking annoyed and embarrassed. Mary waved a hand at him, "Meet your tracker. He's the best I've got." She looked at Tom and I could feel a surge of energy flow from Mary that made him wince a little. "I thought you were lying when you asked not to do this, Tom. I guess I was wrong. But you will make every effort to get her brother to safety, and you will be civil to Kate."
He glared down at her for a moment, and didn't even look at me. His voice was filled with too many things to sort. "Of course, Acca. I will do as you command."
She stepped past him out the door, and her head barely reached his Adam's apple. "Don't take any unnecessary risks, Kate. If we have to fight the Thrall, we will, but I don't want my wolves to be cannon fodder, either."
Tom stepped in the door, and closed it. He
walked to the window and stared down, while I gathered my purse and tried to figure out how not to make this a disaster. Apparently, he saw Mary walk away, because he turned around.
I stared into his stony face and gave him one of my own. "Look, you don't need to do this. I can find Bryan just fine, and I really don't need someone tagging along who is going to make my life miserable."
He continued to stare at me hostilely without speaking or blinking for a moment.
"Look," I said in annoyance. "If you've got something to say to me, just say it. I'm really not in the mood for the silent treatment today." The first words out his mouth were a sarcastic snarl. "I never figured you for the passiveaggressive type, Kate. If you wanted me out of the building, you could have just said so. I thought head games were beneath you."
I raised my hands, palm up, and reared back a bit. "What in the hell are you talking about?
Passive-aggressive? What does that mean?" He started to answer, and I amended. "No, I know what it means, but what do you mean by it?" He settled into an aggressive stance and
frowned. "Oh, gee, I don't know. Maybe playing heavy metal music above my head so loud all night that it actually vibrated a picture off the wall and broke the frame. Wolves have sensitive ears, Kate. I decided it was intentional when I banged on the ceiling and you turned it up." I shook my head and the words came out more sarcastic than I'd planned. Guilt does that to me.
"Gosh, Tom, I guess the next time the queen Thrall and her entire hive are simultaneously mentally attacking me, I'll try to be more respectful with the one thing that actually helps me manage not to put a gun to my head and blow my brains out." I glared at him until I felt hot tears sear my eyes. I turned away as understanding finally filled his face. I stalked into the kitchen and pulled off a paper towel from the roll to wipe my eyes. Today was sucking even worse than yesterday. When the tears threatened a second time, I slapped myself sharply across the face, and they faded. The sting in my cheek cleared my head. I needed to get moving. Daylight was burning.
When I turned around, Tom was standing there.
"Kate, I . . . I don't know what to say. Why didn't you say something? I had no way of knowing you were being attacked. I would have helped." I shook my head and pushed past him out
toward the door. "I didn't need your help, Tom—then or today. I don't need your help or your pity, or anything else." I slid one of the knives from the wrist sheath and checked the edge while he watched. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. "I'm going to find Bryan. Come along or don't. But stay out of my way."
15
I didn't want to leave the laundry in the garage, or go back upstairs, so I stuffed it behind the seat. It didn't fit very well. The seat wouldn't lie flat, but hey—the day was already sucking. What was being uncomfortable to boot?
Yeah, Tom rode along. The business part of me actually hoped he'd stay behind, but a tiny little new piece wanted him to stay, despite being snippy with each other. I wanted his help and his comfort. It unnerved me a bit.
"So," I said to end five blocks of unbearable silence at a whopping twenty miles an hour. "If we're going to use your nose, do we need to go down to the church first?"
"Wherever he was taken from. Are you sure it was from the church?"
"It was the last place I saw him, anyway. It's too late in the season to escape the snow." Tom looked at me with the oddest expression.
"Huh? What does snow have to do with it?" I shrugged and automatically shifted into third gear through sheer force of habit. Yeah, I regretted it. "What does snow have to do with what? "
"That's what you said—it's too late in the season to escape the snow."
I laughed and shook my head. "No I didn't. I said the church was the last place I saw him, and she probably took him out the alley exit."
"Uh, Kate? I think you might be losing it tod—" He looked out the window and suddenly reached across the car with both hands and grabbed the wheel " WAIT! Turn here!"
"Tom, what the hell?" I slammed both feet down on the brake and clutch simultaneously as he turned the wheel to the right. Edna's tires screeched as the old truck tried to take a corner at almost thirty-five. We made the turn without hitting the parked cars on the side, but my heart was pumping a mile a minute. I pulled over to the side next to the fire hydrant and tried to catch my breath. "Damn it, Tom! Are you trying to kill us?"
He was smiling. "Look up, Kate."
I scrunched in the seat a bit to look where he was pointing. A billboard rose over the road, advertising vacations in San Diego. "Uh, what am I looking at?"
"The tagline, Kate. 'Escape the snow in sunny San Diego.' It's summer. You're psychic. You must have seen this in your head and commented
because it was out of place."
I thought about it for a moment. I couldn't dismiss the idea, because it was exactly how I'd found Bryan in a ditch in Boulder.
I opened my senses as we pulled back onto the street. The next intersection had a red light. I couldn't sense anything in my head. It was still a white sheet of humming. But then the light changed to green. I started into the intersection when a blue sedan ran the red in front of me. If it had gone through in normal traffic, I might not have even noticed, but the screeches and honking made me look. Bryan was in that car!
"Shit! It's Bryan!"
"What? Where?" asked Tom.
Maybe Bryan had seen my red truck so many
times that he actually looked my way. Or maybe it was a fluke. In any event, Carol was watching the road. She swerved to avoid one car who was
already halfway across the intersection.
Unfortunately, I was in the wrong lane to follow her. I'd have to go another block and try to intercept her.
"There, in the blue sedan." I said, and my heart did happy thumps when Tom smiled proudly. Well, that and the fact that Bryan was alive!
I slammed Edna into first and floored the gas pedal. One nice thing about the old trucks. They actually put real engines in them. The big old valves opened up wide and the engine roared to throaty life. I leapt ahead of the car in the middle lane. The next light was going yellow and I floored it again. My head snapped back from the force as I
changed lanes again. I prayed that God would keep all of the cops safely in their doughnut shops until the split second when I caught the sedan and needed them.
The next street was a one-way the wrong
direction. I blazed forward again and caught the next left. I got lucky. The sedan had turned right and cut across me again. The tires protested as I frantically turned the corner.
Then luck failed. Carol caught sight of me in the rearview. She whipped into the center lane, cutting off a motorcycle who slammed on his brakes and fishtailed wildly. I managed to pull in behind the motorcycle just long enough to go around a crosstown bus that was stopped in traffic at the corner. I urged Edna even faster and caught the sedan again. Carol took me by surprise by making a sudden left into a park. She snapped through a chain holding a sign reading, "Restricted to Official Vehicles Only."
"She's either panicked or insane!" Tom shouted.
"Yeah? Well, so am I!" I followed her and prayed that nobody was out walking their pets. The paths in the park are wide enough to admit a truck with a plow to keep the sidewalk clear, but the corners are sharp and meandering. I shouldn't have glanced down at my speedometer. We were
traveling almost forty through a busy public park. The sedan rounded the curve and confronted two cyclists. They scattered off the sidewalk and crashed into a bush.
We couldn't keep up this pace. Someone was
going to get killed. I looked closely and noticed that she and Bryan were wearing seat belts, so I took a chance. It was risky, but this had to end. The next curve went around a large, obviously ancient spruce. I sped up and clipped her bumper. She missed the curve and shot off the concrete. I prayed again for Bryan's safety and for Carol's. I wanted her alive so I could kill her. She slammed on the brakes but the impact was inevitable. The huge tree shook as the front of the car buried itself into the mass of branches. The boughs slowed the car enough so that when the bumper hit the massive trunk, it did little more than vibrate the tree.