Dirty Blood (32 page)

“Let’s go.”

I followed Wes from the car, and fell into step
between him and Miles on the sidewalk across the street. Following
Wes’ lead, I kept my head down as we passed the group of guys on
the opposite corner. They were laughing loudly at something one of
them had said. I could tell the moment they spotted us. The
laughter died, and their voices got louder.

“Hey,” one of them called. “Is that Miguel over
there? What’s up Miguel?”

“That’s not Miguel,” said another. “He’s serving his
last three days this weekend.”

“Who is it then, JR?” said a third.

“Keep walking,” Wes whispered. “Don’t look up.”

Miles slowed his pace and fell back, walking behind
us. I did as Wes said and kept my head down, peeking out the edges
of my hood at the group of guys as we passed them.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” the first speaker yelled
after us, with an edge in his voice now.

Wes picked up the pace, and we ducked around the
corner of a building and out of sight. I breathed in relief as we
hurried out of earshot of the voices. I knew there was no reason to
be scared – I could easily have taken on the entire group myself.
But that didn’t mean I would feel good about it, after.

We were well into the alley now and the light was
dimmer here. The sun was blocked by the walls; either that, or it
just refused to shine in a neighborhood like this. A thick layer of
grime covered the brick walls of the surrounding buildings, broken
up by the graffiti that decorated it, in bright reds and greens.
Most of it was curse words. Some of them were spelled wrong. There
were no windows until the second floor and those were all boarded
up. The ones above that were yellowed and blurred with age.

We reached the end and Wes stopped. Miles was still
close behind us and I saw him glance back down the alley before
turning to look at Wes.

“They’re following,” said Miles.

“I know,” said Wes.

Wes headed for the entrance. Miles and I followed.
Inside, the way was split in two. A narrow hallway lit by a single
hanging bulb ran the length of the building. To my right, a set of
scuffed linoleum stairs wound out of sight. Wes walked to a
weathered door halfway down the hall and knocked. I joined him, and
we waited in silence. A minute later, it opened a crack, pulled
tight against the chain still fastened around it. Immediately, my
skin tingled and my anxiety peaked.

A pair of green eyes, obviously female, stared out at
us. Her face was browned by either a tan or birth, I couldn’t tell
which, and I saw strands of jet black hair sticking out from
underneath the blue ski cap she wore. Goosebumps rose on my
arms.

“What?” she snapped.

“I need to see Benny,” Wes said, unconcerned with her
cold welcome.

“Who are you?”

“Tell him Wes is here.”

“Who’s she?” the girl asked, eyeing me.

“She’s with me.” Wes’ voice took on an edge of
impatience.

She scowled and slammed the door with a thud. Once
the door closed, the tingling faded by a few inches, but it didn’t
disappear. I had a feeling it wouldn’t unless I left – or ended the
source of it. Wes exchanged a quick look with Miles, who’d hung
back out of sight during the exchange, and then Miles slid silently
back outside.

“She’s a wolf,” I whispered.

“I know.” The words were matter of fact, but his tone
was just the opposite. I could hear the stress it was causing him,
to bring me here. For a split second I thought about taking his
hand or making some small reassuring gesture, but a voice inside my
head responded with a resounding ‘bad idea, Tara’, and I stopped
myself. It had to be all or nothing, and I couldn’t let Wes think
I’d settle for anything else.

The chain behind the door scraped against wood, and
it swung open. This time, a man stood there. He had dirty blond
hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a shampoo bottle since the
‘90’s, a smudged t-shirt that read: Virginia is for Lovers, and a
faded pair of blue jeans that hung way too low on his hips,
considering he wore his boxers so loose on the waistline. He was
grinning from ear to ear.

“Wes, get in here, you asshole,” he said, motioning
us inside with a swoop of his arm. “What the hell are you doing
here at this time of night? Don’t you know what could happen to
your pretty little car down here?”

Wes stepped forward. “Benny, you and I both know my
car is fine where I parked it unless you say it isn’t.”

Benny chuckled, and his eyes flicked to me. He
stopped and stared. “What’s this?” he asked, though his tone was
far more curious than angry.

Wes sidestepped, blocking me from Benny, his body
language sending a message. “This is Tara. She’s with me.”

Benny glanced back and forth between us with
interest. Then he grinned, and the tingling along my arms increased
at the sight of it; it wasn’t an unfriendly smile, but it was
definitely one I didn’t trust. “Interesting. So are you trying to
restart your father’s council, or you just couldn’t get a date with
your own kind?” He laughed at his own joke and then moved on when
he saw Wes’ expression darken. “Well, either way, come in. It’s
been awhile. We can get caught up.”

He led us into the living room, which consisted of a
couch and two armchairs, all sagging in the middle, and all a nice
shade of dirt brown. At least I hoped ‘dirt’ was the color and not
the condition of the furniture. I perched softly on the cushion and
settled in slowly; I had a high suspicion a cloud of dust might
rise up around me if I sat too hard. Wes sat next to me, and I was
careful not to touch him. Benny might be laughing, but underneath
the curiosity there was disapproval when he’d looked at me, and I
couldn’t afford to ruin this lead before seeing where it took
us.

Benny sank into one of the armchairs, which seemed to
sag a little more than the other, and leaned over to grab a glass
off the grimy coffee table between us. He sipped generously on
whatever honey-colored liquid was inside and then held it out to
us.

“You want?”

“No,” Wes answered.

I shook my head and then glanced around. There was no
sign of the dark haired girl who’d answered the door which put me
on edge since there weren’t many places she could be in this tiny
apartment. My guess was behind one of the doors that lined the
too-short hallway, just off the living room; both were closed and
no sound came from behind either.

“So, aren’t you going to tell me about your date,
here?” Benny asked, gesturing towards me with his cup. He downed
another swig of liquid.

“This is Tara. I’m sure you’ve heard the name,” Wes
answered. His tone was casual, but I could still hear the edge
behind it.

“Should I have?” Benny took another gulp.

“Depends on who you hang with these days.”

“I don’t hang with anybody. They’re all so boring.
Nobody likes to party anymore.” Benny’s voice was almost a whine.
“But, then again” he added, perking up, “nobody could party like
you.”

I clamped my jaw shut so it wouldn’t hang open in
shock, or worse, speak out loud. Wes, a partier? No way.

“Benny, I didn’t come here to party. I need some
information,” Wes said.

“Like what?” Benny leaned back and emptied the
remaining contents of his glass.

“Like the kidnapping of a human woman earlier
tonight.”

“Why would I know anything about that? Or care?”

Wes’ jaw tightened. “Don’t play games with me, Benny.
I’m not in a good mood.”

“When are you ever in a good mood, anymore? You used
to be in a good mood all the time, when you hung with me.”

“I’m serious. Tell me what you know.”

Benny’s eyes were wide with feigned innocence – and
glassy with alcohol. “I don’t know anything about it.”

“Funny, I heard different.”

“From who?” Benny leaned forward, setting the glass
down with a sharp thud.

“Doesn’t matter.” Wes shook his head. “I’d have come
to you anyway. We both know if it’s dirty or crooked, you’ve got
your nose in it.”

Benny tried for a smile and wagged his eyebrows.
“You’re right. The dirtier the better. Just ask-”

“Benny.” Wes shot him a warning look.

Benny’s shoulders sagged and for a minute I thought
he was going to give in. Then he turned and glared at me. “What
does she have to do with this?” He jerked a thumb in my
direction.

“Don’t worry about it. Who did the kidnapping?”

“I don’t know.” His tone was flippant, like a
stubborn child.

Wes didn’t answer, except to stare stonily back at
Benny.

“Look, I don’t know what you heard, but they lied. Do
I look like someone who has connections?” He finished by gesturing
to the apartment around him.

Wes snorted. “You’ve always looked like this, and
you’ve always had connections, so don’t try to play me. Just tell
me who did the kidnapping. Last chance.”

Benny didn’t answer. From where I sat, I could feel
the muscles gathering and tensing in Wes’ arms and legs. Still, he
waited.

Benny shifted in his chair and after trying, and
failing, to hold out under Wes’ heavy gaze, his grin faded, and his
voice became a low whine. “C’mon, Wes, I can’t tell you what I
don’t know. Look, why don’t we all just have a drink and-”

Wes didn’t let him finish. In a blink, he was over
the coffee table and on Benny. He grabbed Benny by the shirt and
hauled him out of the chair, throwing him against the wall. The
sound of Benny’s head cracking the plaster made a muted thud. Small
chips of drywall floated to the carpet. I watched the dust and
debris float to the floor, stunned by how quick Wes had moved.

“Tell me what you know,” Wes growled, his face inches
from Benny’s.

Everything happened fast after that. Wes’ shoulders
started shaking and Benny’s face transformed from a look of
surprise to a violent scowl. I reached down and grabbed for one of
the wooden stakes in my boot just as the dark haired girl appeared
from the hall. I saw her expression change from confusion to rage
as she surveyed the scene. She turned on me with her lips curled
back in a wordless growl and ran at me. She took three strides and
launched herself over the furniture, transforming into a shiny
black wolf, in midair.

“Kat!” Benny shouted.

I sidestepped at the last second, and just barely
missed her extended claws. They hit carpet instead, leaving holes
and exposed threads where they grabbed. Her head whipped around and
when her eyes found mine, her lips curled back, revealing gleaming
fangs. I backed up a few more steps, towards the kitchen, hoping
for a more open space to move in. Out of the corner of my eye, Wes
and Benny were barely hanging onto their human forms. Wes still
held Benny pinned to the wall and both of them shook and quivered
with the effort of staying human.

“Not enough room, Benny,” Wes warned.

Then Kat was coming at me again. I gripped the stake
in my hand and fell into a crouch, sidestepping again, looking for
an opening. She led her attacks with her teeth, and there wasn’t
really room to maneuver around them so I was forced to sidestep or
retreat. The problem was, there wasn’t really room for that either.
About three seconds later, my back hit the fridge, and I realized I
had nowhere else to go. I was barely managing to hold her gnashing
fangs away from my face with fistfuls of her fur. Her green eyes
bored into mine with malice and her stale breath hit my face in
angry, exerted puffs. I could feel my grip slipping and I knew when
it did, I probably wouldn’t move fast enough to get out of her way
before she bit me. After that, I’d be no good to the rescue
mission. I couldn’t let that happen.

Gathering all my strength, I pushed as hard as I
could, one handed, against her weight, concentrating mainly on
keeping her teeth out of my flesh. With the other hand, I dove into
my pocket for the gun and ran my fingers over it. I felt a small
click against the metal and prayed it was the safety. Then, I
curved my hand around the cold metal and whipped it out. I shoved
it hard against her shoulder and pulled the trigger. The momentum
from the shot shoved me harder against the fridge; the handle dug
into my back, and I winced. A ringing in my ears began, echoing the
blast, like a sonic boom. No wonder I didn’t make it a habit to
shoot these things. It really wasn’t a fun experience.

Kat staggered back and swayed, her expression full of
disbelief. “You shot me,” she managed, though her voice was laced
with a whimper. She staggered again, and almost fell, but managed
to catch herself on the wall. She leaned against it and slid down,
panting hard and eyeing me.

I didn’t answer right away; I was surprised to see
fear in her expression and I hesitated, an idea forming. I turned
back to Wes. There was no way I could voice what I was thinking so
he would just have to figure it out, hopefully.

I turned back to Kat with as fierce a look as I could
muster and stared her down. “It hurts doesn’t it?” I said, with
what I hoped was a thick layer of malice in my voice. Then I turned
and locked eyes with Benny. “Let him change, Wes,” I said in a
smooth voice, almost teasing. It took a minute for Benny to
respond. He kept looking from me to Kat and back at me again, his
body frozen still. I stared at him while he took it in and made
sure to keep my expression hard and my breathing even while I
watched his gaze flicker from her to me again.

“You shot her,” Benny said, finally.

“You want me to let him change?” Wes asked, the doubt
clear in his voice.

I had no idea if Wes could see the bluff I was going
for, but it didn’t matter. If he didn’t, and Benny changed, I’d
follow through. The feel of the gun in my hand made me confident
enough, under the circumstances. “Yes,” I answered, turning my
voice to a whine and doing my best to achieve a pout. “Kat doesn’t
want to play anymore.” To prove my point, I didn’t even bother
glancing at her as I said her name. I kept my eyes on Benny and
smiled at him. “Do you want to play, Benny?”