Snow: The White Crow (9 page)

I came to an agreement with myself to accept it, not fight it, then decided to put her at ease and said, “Okay love.  Be just a flash.”  And I walked to the bathroom, putting a little extra sway in my hips for her.  I smirked at the silence, the only sound was her heart beating and her purposely controlled breathing.  I shook my head to clear it, my enhanced senses were going to take some getting used to.  I could smell her relief from there.

I brushed my hair and winced at the tender skin at the base of my antler nubs.  I had forgotten about them.  I parted my shiny white hair and looked at the stark white bone.  They were almost cute if they didn't make me even more of a freak than I already was.  I brushed up from under, giving my hair as much body as I could and it was enough to hide the nubs.

As I looked into the mirror, I had a flash of looking at the cell in my hand for the time.  It was like the flashes of communication I got from my furry and feathered friends in the wild.  Wait, it wasn't my hand and phone, it was Rachel's.  I got a glimpse from her eyes.  What had caused that and how was it possible?

She called out, “Get a move on woman, we need to get to the station.”  I thought about that.  Okay, she had been thinking of me and she worried about the time.  Had that made some sort of connection to me?  Did our beasts make more than just a physical connection when we claimed each other?

I took a deep breath.  These were questions for later.  I stepped out and put on my leather jacket and she squinted.  “Maybe lose the weapons or leave them in the car?  A lot of wolves are nervous around a Wolf Hunter.  We're all on the same side.”

I was always armed.  I looked at her then handed her my nine mil and my silver knife inside the sheath so it didn't touch her skin.  Then I locked eyes with her and started pulling all of my concealed weapons from the slots and niches of my custom made leathers.  Seven small silver blades, a silver laced garrote, silver laced brass knuckles, a little bag of silver powder, and a handful of silver caltrops.

Her eyes went wide at the caltrops.  And she picked one up to examine it as her flesh sizzled and smoked on the silver, she didn't even wince.  I shrugged.  “Great for slowing down an enraged werewolf,  just throw a handful in their path.”  She looked at the four-pronged blades that looked a lot like they belonged in a game of jacks.  No matter how the little things landed on the ground, a blade would be pointing up to puncture the pads of a wolf's paws.

She shook her head and set it down, I saw the red and blistered skin on her fingers heal up.  Then she cocked an eyebrow and asked in a voice full of humor,  “Is that all?”

I started to nod but then remembered.  “Oh!”  I pulled the tiny derringer out of my boot and put it on the stack.  Then I took my Sig and blade from her.  “Okay, ready, I'll leave these in the car.  I feel naked without any weapons.”

We walked outside and she shrugged and murmured, “I like the way you feel naked.”

I stopped, my mouth dropped in shock and I smiled and slapped her shoulder.  “Rach!”

She giggled. “What?  And besides, you kind of  'are' a weapon, so you're never unarmed.”  Then she added with an almost timid tone, “Love.”  I shivered and grinned, I liked the sound of that.  I'd never thought I'd let someone get close, especially not a werewolf.

We loaded up after she sniffed and tasted the air.  I knew she was categorizing the scents from the feral wolves that had wandered around her neighborhood the prior night.  I could tell they were from two different packs, I wondered how much more her better wolf nose was telling her.  With just a smile at me, she started the car and headed us toward the police station.  She said, “Your little squirrel friend was back there somewhere.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Conrad?”

She bit the tip of her tongue to stop a smile and failed.  “I'm not calling him that.”

We spent the drive just sharing things about ourselves with each other.  I was finding her fascinating and someone I truly enjoyed speaking with and that felt even more intimate with this fascinating red headed woman than our lovemaking had been.  So I was relieved that it wasn't all just this almost uncontrollable animal attraction.

She stopped for burgers on the way in, it was already past lunch.  I only had one this time, raw for her.  I had this insane urge to make her feel comfortable about herself around me.

When we arrived at the station, I took out my weapons and opened her glove box to stuff them in then chuckled at what I saw.  I glanced over at her and her pleased as a chipmunk look, then rolled my eyes at her and put my Sig and knife beside the two nine millimeters already in the space. She shrugged as she opened her door.  “A girl has to protect herself.”

I chuckled and hopped out and we made our way in.  She beeped at the metal detectors and I squinted an eye and walked through bracing myself for... the metal detector beeped and whined and stuttered and settled into a hiss.

She arched an eyebrow and I sighed.  The officer manning the door made a motion, I just leaned against the wall, palms flat and he did a quick pat down then ran his wand over me which just rewarded him with static.  He looked warily at me as I stood.  I sighed and said, “Magic user.”  I hated admitting it to anyone.  But it wasn't as uncommon as it used to be now that more preternaturals like me were starting to come out of hiding.

He nodded in understanding then smirked and said, “You smell like bird.”

I chuckled and replied, “You smell like dog.”  He grinned at me then thumbed me in.  I looked at his badge.  “Thanks, Martinez.”  This got a grunt from the man and an amused look from Rach.

She said playfully as she led me down the hall, “He was right bird girl.”

I pushed her shoulder and she bumped the wall as I teased back, “Thanks, wolfie.”

She suddenly had her game face on as we reached a door just inside the large open squad room.  She knocked just below the name Chief Parsons that was stenciled on the glass door in white letters.  A deep voice called out, “Enter.”

She stepped through with me right behind.  A thin, tall African American man who looked to be only twenty-two or three looked back at us from where he was gazing through the windows into the squad room.  He closed the blinds and studied us as he said, “Paige... Wolf Hunter.”  He growled and Rachel stepped in front of me and returned his growl.

The man looked genuinely surprised at her, but then his nostrils flared and he pulled air across his tongue.  His brows almost hit his hairline.  “A Hunter and a wolf?  Just when I thought I had seen it all in this fucked up world.”  He just shook his head and motioned his hand toward the chairs in front of the small utilitarian desk that was piled high with paperwork and folders. “Sit.”

I watched the man as he sat in his chair behind the desk.  His skin was so dark it was almost the color of slate, it looked good on the man with his buzzcut and tailor fit charcoal grey suit.  I knew his apparent age was deceiving.  One might wonder how a young GQ model looking man could be the Chief of Police.  But outside the walled city, age is an abstract thing when a person who looks twelve could be a hundred years old, or someone looking thirty could actually be thirty.

The thing that couldn't lie though were the eyes.  He had weariness, experience, and a hardness in his that you only got from doing this job for a long time.  It ate at you.  I pegged him for around fifty or so.

He glared at me as we sat.  He looked at me as he held out a restraining hand toward Rachel, who had been stiffening at his attention on me.  The man said plainly, “I don't like Wolf Hunters.  You get your kicks preying off of people who can't help themselves when the beast takes over.  You certainly caused a clusterfuck for us the other night.”

I replied simply, “I take no pleasure in killing, I'm a Recovery Specialist.  And the boy is fine isn't he?  I returned him to his parents as I was contracted.”

He regarded me carefully.  “Crazy Clean Blood.”  Then he clasped his hands in front of him.  “For taking no pleasure in killing wolves, you certainly did just fine that night, our snipers say it was a hell of a shot.”

I shrugged. “I said I took no pleasure in it, I didn't say I wasn't any good at it.  That piece of shit was terrorizing an innocent child, I have no regrets.”

The left corner of his mouth twitched in an aborted smile.  “On that we agree.  Both the boy and the after action report from Specialist Paige here state the man drew down on you first.”  He seemed pleased with that, though his face didn't show it.

He did smile slightly this time as he said, “You can pick up that fucking silenced cannon of yours on the way out of the station today.  But we still need you to hang around a few days in case we have any other questions.”  I nodded my understanding.

He turned to Rach.  “Now, what's this shit you are spouting about a magic threat in the area?  What has...  'your' Hunter brought down on our heads now?”  He stressed the word your and I flushed.  I kind of liked it.  The bestial part of me that was hovering just under my control agreed, hers, and she was mine.

Then he added, “Does it have something to do with that explosion that leveled three acres of forest to the north early this morning?  Our choppers found nothing but flattened trees for hundreds of yards and thirteen dead bodies.  Four had to be wolves, they were naked.”

He shook his head.  “Then they saw that fucking Red Hood push a log off of herself and that hellhound of hers, and they leapt up like they weren't hurt and sprinted off into the forest so fast the pilots couldn't track them through the trees.  They looked to be on the trail of something.  They say they heard a wolf howl, and that got their blood pumping and it took them a couple hours to push the need to hunt out of their system.”

I caught myself nodding.  It sounded like Maireni and Daria were having just as much trouble with their group of witches.  With the body count, it sounded like they were just down to one lamia remaining as well.  I absently acknowledged Daria was in her wolf form again, I wondered if she could change at will.

I thought of the witches, I really hated lamias, it seemed like there were no good witches.  Perhaps when they get a taste of power, it corrupts them and drives them to gain more?  That seems like something insidious black magics would do.  Worm their way into someone until they know nothing but evil.  That is what happened to the one who had poisoned me and my village.  Her drive for beauty and power.

But there is always balance in nature and all things in the world.  For the wolves, there is the Red Hood.  So surely there must be good witches unless I and others like me are that balance.  I know I am always drawn to areas where that balance is needed.

The Chief looked at me.  “You knew she was in the area again?  You don't seem surprised.  Does it have to do with what Specialist Paige here needs to report about?”

I nodded once and he growled slightly and pushed himself firmly back into his chair.  He looked at Rachel expectantly.  I think it is funny how all of the police chiefs I have met in all my years, seem to have that exact same look.  I wonder if they practice it in the mirror.  But it is effective.

She shot me a chastising glance.
Oh, did I look amused?
  I schooled my face as she began.  She shared everything I shared with her, punctuating it with his own sharing the forest destruction and the Red Hood north of the city.

He steepled his fingers in front of his nose and regarded her for a long moment, then he turned to me and dropped his hands to lay flat on his desk.  “You say these gypsy witches are looking for something in the area, in the Cascades?”

I nodded. “I believe so based on what little the Red Hood shared with me and the pattern the group I tracked were moving in.”

He nodded then cussed under his breath,  “Fuck.”  Then he squinted at me. “Is it the Black Crown?”

I blinked.  “I don't know, Red didn't have time to tell me much, she wants to speak soon.  But apparently this group of Gypsies and another group of Druids came from Europe on the orders of the remaining Werewolf Alphas to secure something.  The Druids simply disappeared in Seattle, but Red tracked the Gypsies until they split up last night.  I took one group, she took the other.”

He pursed his lips.  “What do you know of the Congressional Subcommittee in charge of Lupine Defense?”

I pursed my lips this time.  “Besides coordinating materials and personal to help defend the Clean Bloods in the walled cities, they also set up the strategies for handling lupine incursions and... sterilization of cities that could not handle a breach.”  That was distasteful especially with the next statement. “They do this with the National Guard, Wolf Hunters, and the black ops teams we are not supposed to know about.”

He gave me a predatory grin at my distaste, I could tell that, being wolf, he did not like certain aspects of the government's policies when it came to wolves.  Then I added, “They also appropriate funds for experimentation on the cursed, with the cover story that it is to find a cure, when in reality it is to find ways to kill them more efficiently. Or to figure out how to use them as a weapon.”

Both of them growled at that, it took them by surprise.  It wasn't common knowledge, but I have seen many things in my years that I wasn't supposed to.  I shrugged, it wasn't me doing it and I'm sure every single one of the cursed has wondered about it.

I took a moment to let the smell of anger dissipate and let them control their inner wolves before I moved.  I relaxed back into my chair to show I was no threat.  Even in human form, you didn't want to make any quick moves when an infected is enraged.  They might mistake it for an attack or that you are going to run, and their hunting instinct will label you as prey.

Parsons took a calming breath then prompted, “Bandicoot?”  When I blinked at him, he grinned.  “So, there 'are' things they don't tell you.”

I shrugged. “They don't tell me anything.  They are the ones that licensed me to be a Wolf Hunter Recovery Specialist. Beyond that, I have no dealings with them.”  He squinted at me his nostrils flaring.  For god's sake, he was checking my scent for signs of deceit a person exudes when they lie.  He seemed genuinely surprised after the information I just shared with him about things I wasn't supposed to know.

He hit a button on his desk and I could hear the hum of white noise generators along the walls.  He had put the office in privacy mode.  Normally, even if we whispered, the wolves in the squad room would hear us.  The wall of sound would drown out all but yelling.

He picked up a pen and started tapping it on his desk, staring at it, his brow furrowed in contemplation.  Then he looked at me, I could see he made a decision.  He murmured to himself, “Recovery Specialist...”  He was formulating plans, then he sat up straight and said, “Okay, let's work with that.  The Issaquah Police Department is contracting you to assist in the joint operation between, the CSCLD, the National Guard, and the police departments of Issaquah and Seattle.  Operation Bandicoot.”

I opened my mouth, but he held up a hand to stop me and continued, “Shit is hitting the fan everywhere and we're trying to contain the situation.  Under contract, you aren't allowed to disclose anything I am about to share with you.”  I understood now, they needed my skills because something with this Operation Bandicoot was spinning out of control.

He almost growled out, “There have been murmurings through Europe, Africa, and Asia that after the Red Hood took out two of the five Marcus brothers, the remaining ones were regrouping and massing magic users of all types and beings that we never knew even existed. Until they started coming out of the woodwork when that fucking Red Hood took out Slater, AKA Alistair Marcus and freed around twenty-five percent of the infected from the curse.”

Then he stood and paced.  “The Alphas have been amassing black magic talismans and objects of power.  We believe they are preparing to renew their assault on the walled cities around the world.  Only two things are holding them back.  First, they have no way of controlling the wolves in the Americas with Slater dead.  They can send small groups under compulsion, but they are seriously outnumbered and outmatched by our domestic defense.”

He paused in his pacing and turned toward us. “The second is some sort of weapon, hidden somewhere between Seattle and Canada in the Cascades, that can defeat the Alpha compulsions.”

He let the weight and ramifications of what he had just said sink in.  I locked eyes with him, you normally don't do that with a wolf, they saw it as a challenge.

He met my gaze and just nodded at my realization.  “The Black Crown, whatever it is.  If it can do what the Alphas are afraid of, we can deprive them of their army.  The Europeans have contacted the CSCLD and the joint task force has been secretly combing any lands that were owned by Slater for the past six months.  He had holdings of over three hundred square miles sprinkled around the area.”

I nodded and said, “Is that why you are contracting me?  To find this Black Crown?  That isn't really what I do.”

He shook his head and grabbed a folder off his desk and handed me a paper from it.  “No, we have lost contact with the team near Slater's old headquarters and the two teams we sent in after them haven't contacted us in over twenty-four hours.  We need you to locate the men, and if they are still alive, return them safely back to us.  That's what a Recovery Specialist does right?  And if magic bullshit is involved...”