Pocket Apocalypse: InCryptid, Book Four (26 page)

“Because I never let my weapons out of my possession,” I said. It was hard to keep my face still while I spoke, but it was also necessary: Shelby was dabbing at the area around my eyes, making it clear that the blood had not yet been totally removed. I was going to
bathe
in hand sanitizer when we got back to the house. “In order for someone to have switched my silver bullets for lead, they would have needed to knock me out, distract the mice, and manage the exchange without leaving anything out of place. I’m assuming you have a more centralized means of storing your weapons?”

Riley’s silence was all the answer I needed.

“You should be able to open your eyes now,” said Shelby, slipping my glasses back onto my face before she pulled away. “Just try not to wipe at them until you’ve had access to better sterilization tools, all right?”

“All right; thank you,” I said, and opened my eyes, blinking at the suddenly bright world around me. Even moonlight can seem blinding if you’ve been in total darkness for long enough. “We came out here alone, a family group and a visiting cryptozoologist who had already been exposed once. That seemed a little strange to me, but I’m not native, I don’t know how you do things.
Was
it strange?”

“Yes and no,” said Charlotte. Riley shot her a sharp look. She rolled her eyes and spread her hands, indicating the abattoir that the meadow around us had become. “For God’s sake, Riley, there’s no harm in telling the man how operations are usually managed, given the circumstances. Can you really look at him and say he’s not at least trying to keep us all among the living? No, Alex, this is not unusual: the Society is very wide-spread under normal circumstances, so most families or local groups survey and hunt alone. Waiting for backup to arrive from another city or state could mean someone gets killed.”

“But when we’re all together, we usually work together,” chimed in Raina, not to be left out. “So it’s weird that only five of us came out, instead of everyone.”

“It was your mother’s idea,” said Riley, sounding suddenly defensive.

Charlotte went still. It was a trick I’d seen her daughter pull more than once: all animation drained out of her, taking the sparkle from her eye and the tension from her lips as she slowly turned to stare at her husband. “What did you say?” she asked dangerously.

“I got your text,” said Riley. “You’re the one who proposed we spend some time with the family and the boyfriend,” here he indicated me with a sweep of his hand that somehow managed to imply his disgust, even though his facial expression didn’t change, “before things got really out of hand.”

“Yes, and
I
got
your
text, saying you wanted to observe Alex in the field so that we could convince Shelby to end her association with someone who was so clearly unsuitable for her—no offense, Alex,” Charlotte added hastily.

“None taken,” I said. “It’s almost a relief to know that neither one of Shelby’s parents likes me. It puts me on level ground.”

“I didn’t send that text,” said Riley.

“Well, I didn’t send the text you’re describing either,” said Charlotte.

“I didn’t text anyone; you can check my phone,” said Raina. Gabby didn’t say anything. She stood close by her sister, looking distressed—and more, looking like she understood what was going on, which put her ahead of the rest of the family. She had been away at school before the werewolves came. She had something the rest of them couldn’t get for love nor money. She had perspective.

“No one here sent any texts,” I said. “Someone’s playing you. The same someone who swapped your silver bullets for regular bullets that had been spray-painted the color you expected to see when you checked your ammunition. I really hate to be the one who says this, because God knows I can’t afford to lose any more credibility with you people, but you have a traitor in your midst.

“Someone sent you out here tonight to get the entire Tanner family killed.”

Riley and Charlotte exchanged a glance. In the distance, a wolf howled. And none of us said a word.

“Ah, traitors. Like taxes, politics, and discussions of the weather, they remain an unavoidable, unwanted part of the human condition.”

—Thomas Price

Back in the SUV, which is a major improvement on the meadow full of dead werewolves, no question about it

W
E WEREN’T MOVING.

That wouldn’t have been so frustrating if we hadn’t been sitting in the family SUV, parked off behind a stand of trees where passing motorists would be less likely to see us and wonder what we were doing out in the middle of nowhere. Even worse, we’d been parked there for the better part of an hour, which meant I’d been in an enclosed space with Shelby’s entire family for the better part of an hour. I was beginning to wonder how she’d feel about being an orphan. From the way her lip had started to twitch, I suspected she’d feel pretty good about it.

Sadly, the logic behind our temporary hold was sound. By the time we’d hiked out of the bloody meadow and back to the car, the noise would have attracted one of the local shepherds; even if they didn’t bring their flocks in at night, they had to have been monitoring them somehow, just due to the density of local predators. Once a shepherd showed up, we could count on the local authorities being called—the real authorities, not all of whom were aware of the Thirty-Six Society’s existence. We’d barely had time to move the SUV to a more well-hidden location before the emergency response vehicles came blasting down the road, their sirens running and their lights flashing, just like emergency response vehicles anywhere in the world.

“Well, that tears it,” Charlotte had said, with no real surprise in her voice. “We’ve got too much blood on us to risk the road until we see them go by again. Relax, you lot, we’re here for the haul.”

It might not have been so bad if the elder Tanners had been willing to discuss the traitor in their organization while we waited. At least then we would have been
doing
something. But they had shut down all attempts to raise the topic, until I became frustrated and sank back in my seat, not saying anything. Shelby had put a hand on my arm, shooting me a look of resigned understanding. No wonder she’d been so amazed when she met my family and learned that we believed in talking things out—a necessity, when your immediate family includes two telepaths and two empaths, not to mention Antimony, who wasn’t psychic, but was easily irritated enough that she was practically the next best thing.

When I’d first arrived in Australia, I had looked at the Tanners and seen only their similarities to the people I knew and counted on back home—and there were plenty of similarities, don’t get me wrong. Now that I’d been here long enough to see how they responded to crisis situations, the differences were looming larger all the time.

“Are you really marrying Shelby?” Raina’s question would have been abrupt under the best of circumstances. In the dark, silent SUV, it sounded like the start of an interrogation.

I looked up at her. She was just an outline in the gloom. That actually made things a little easier, since I didn’t have to see her face when I said, “I was hoping to, yes. I did propose, and it seems polite to go through with it.”

“Aren’t you supposed to ask her father for his consent?”

“No, he’s not,” said Shelby. There was steel in her tone. “That would imply that I was property, and that someone could give me away to someone else. That’s not true. That’s never been true. Only person Alex needed to ask was me, and you know what my answer was.”

“Could’ve told us.” Gabby’s comment was much softer; I might not have heard it, if we hadn’t all been shut in the car. “You’ve emailed me at least once a week since you left, and you never said you were getting married.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” said Shelby. “So . . . surprise, I guess. I’m getting married.”

“Will the ceremony be here or in the United States?” asked Charlotte. Then, as calm as an assassin sliding a knife between someone’s ribs, she added the question I’d barely started formulating: “Where are you intending to live? Alex could apply for Australian citizenship. It’s a difficult process, but being married will make it easier, and it would keep you near your family.”

Riley hadn’t said a word, but I saw his hands tighten on the wheel, and imagined I could hear his teeth grinding.

“I’m going to get murdered and dumped in a bog before I even have this conversation with my parents,” I said, tilting my head up so that I was staring at the ceiling, and not the vaguely menacing shapes of Shelby’s family.

“They probably already know, you know,” said Shelby. “Sarah’s no doubt told them—and Mum, I don’t know yet where we’re going to live. We haven’t started having those conversations yet.”

“Oh, God,” I said, almost philosophically. “I’m going to die.”

“Maybe those are conversations you should have before you go announcing that you’re going to marry some boy your family’s only just met,” snapped Charlotte.

“Maybe we should wait to have
any
of these conversations until we’re not dealing with lycanthropy-infected sheep and people setting us up to be slaughtered,” I suggested.

They ignored me.

“She’s going to move to America, obviously, or she wouldn’t be hedging,” said Raina.

“No, she’s not,” said Gabby. “She wouldn’t do that. She knows how much we miss her already, and that’s when we have good reason to expect her to come home. Tell her, Shelly. Tell her you’re not moving to America.”

“Still the werewolves prowl, hungry for human flesh,” I said. Again, they ignored me.

“I don’t know
where
we’re going to live, all right? Alex gets a vote, too.” Shelby was starting to sound annoyed.

She wasn’t the only one. “There are plenty of nice boys in Australia, Shelby Tanner,” said Charlotte. “Why couldn’t you find one of them? No offense, Alex, you’re lovely, for a Price, and I’m sure you’d be an excellent husband for some girl who wasn’t my oldest daughter.”

“Offense taken, and did I mention there were
werewolves?
” I kept my eyes on the ceiling. At least if I was watching the ceiling, I would miss any rude gestures thrown in my direction. “I really, really think werewolves are more important than our eventual mailing address.”

As expected, they ignored me for a third time. “Australia’s great! You’ll love living here,” said Gabby. “We have beaches, and you can come see me in the opera after I graduate, and there are lots of really
interesting
monsters for you to study.”

“Like werewolves?” I asked.

“I hate to agree with the Price boy, but maybe this conversation can wait until another time,” said Riley, who sounded about as happy about the situation as I felt. I didn’t make the mistake of thinking this made him an ally. I heard the rubber squeak as he tightened his hands on the steering wheel again. “Believe me, it’s a conversation we
will
be having, as a family—but I’d like to live that long.”

“Can’t live anywhere if we’re all dead,” said Shelby. She sounded incredibly happy, like this was the best thing that had ever been said, by anyone. Then again, it was distracting her family from grilling us about our long-term plans. Maybe that
did
make it the best thing anyone had ever said. “Who had access to the bullets, Dad?”

Riley twisted in his seat enough to jerk his head toward me. “I already told you I didn’t want to discuss private matters in front of our visitor.”

“He’s my fiancé, Dad, and that makes him family. Plus, whoever set this up was trying to kill him, too, which I figure makes this his business.” Shelby looped her arm through mine to illustrate her point. I would normally have enjoyed having her snuggle up against me like that. I wasn’t normally worried that her father was going to throw me to the wolves—literally. “Who had access to the bullets?”

“Everyone,” said Charlotte. “They came out of the central stock. There’s no way anyone could have known for sure which boxes we’d grab.”

“Which means either your luck was very, very bad when it came to picking up ammunition for this little jaunt, or you don’t have any silver bullets left,” I said. “How hard would it be for me to walk into your central stock and swap things around?”

“You? Dead hard. No one would let you in there unescorted. But me, or Shelly, or anyone who’s known to be a member in good standing of the Society? Dead easy.” Charlotte hesitated before she added, “The door’s always locked, and everybody has a key. We’d notice if someone like you tried to stick your head in, but that’s just because you’re not supposed to be wandering around alone.”

“So I—assuming I was a Thirty-Sixer—could have walked in with my pockets full of silver-painted bullets, and swapped them for the actual silver bullets without anyone noticing me or realizing what I’d done. Is that what I’m hearing?” I looked around the car. I couldn’t see expressions in the gloom, but I could see postures, and no one looked very happy.

“Could a werewolf have done that?” asked Gabby.

“If they wore gloves,” I said. “Silver is a contact poison to them, and they might have developed a rash like poison oak if they’d touched it directly, but it wouldn’t kill them or even cause enough immediate pain to be obvious to someone who saw them walking out of the supply area. The better question is whether a werewolf would be able to plan that far ahead. Is there some sort of log that people are supposed to sign when they take things?”

“We’ve never needed one,” said Riley. “Do
you
have a log?”

“No, sir, but there aren’t nearly as many of us, and we generally have a good idea of our resources.” And we always knew what our visitors were doing, didn’t we? When Uncle Mike and Aunt Lea came by, or when Aunt Mary was haunting the house, we knew, and we kept a close count on our bullets. It was a little mistrustful of our allies, maybe, but it meant that we didn’t encounter any nasty surprises.

“Did you have silver bullets before, Dad?” asked Shelby. “I know you killed the werewolf that bit Tim.”

“We did,” said Riley. “I bought them from a supplier on the Gold Coast, and I checked them myself before I allowed anyone to take them into the field. They worked like the records said they would, and I didn’t look any further.”

“Then whoever swapped the bullets did it after they saw what they could do a werewolf,” I said. “Someone who was there. How many people went with you on that trip?”

“Eighteen or so,” said Riley. “More knew where we were heading. I thought werewolves were just dumb beasts. All the records we had said that they were monsters, not opponents. You even said it yourself.”

I hadn’t put it quite like that, but arguing with him seemed like a bad idea under the circumstances. “A werewolf that has transformed is a monster. A werewolf in the default shape of its species is a member of that species, just . . . a little more temperamental, a little faster to react and judge, a little more oriented toward survival of the self. They don’t make choices for the greater good, because the disease they carry won’t let them. New werewolves transform often and uncontrollably, like those sheep we saw tonight. Werewolves who manage to survive through their first cycles of transformation tend to be less functional, but more in control of their transformations. They can hide themselves a hell of a lot better.”

“So they could have been with us this whole time,” said Shelby. “It could be someone back at the house.”

“Not ‘could be’; almost certainly is,” I said. “They had to have had access to the ammunition, to your cellphones, and most importantly, to information. If you’re trying to set a trap like this one, you need to know who you’re dealing with, and how they’re likely to react. I
really
don’t want to reopen this topic, but when the two of you received the texts you thought were from each other, was there any mention of Shelby and me being engaged?”

“No,” said Charlotte.

“Absolutely not,” said Riley.

“Then we’re in luck: we can move Raina and Gabby lower on the list of potential suspects—er, sorry.” I glanced at Shelby’s sisters. “Add in the fact that I don’t think you’re foolhardy enough to set up a trap and then walk into it, given the historical lack of loyalty on the part of most werewolves, and we can take you off the list completely. Those sheep would have eaten their puppet master as cheerfully as they would have eaten us.”

“No offense taken, but just you wait until the toasts at your wedding,” said Gabby, in a mild tone. “It’s going to be
all
about how the first thing you did in Australia was damn near get yourself killed. See how you feel about baseless accusations then.”

“We can write Mum off for similar reasons,” said Raina. “She’d never have walked into a trap, but if she’d been trying to get a rise out of Dad, she would
definitely
have mentioned the engagement.”

“And Dad’s not stupid enough to walk into a field full of lycanthropic sheep just because he wants to see you get introduced to your lungs,” chimed in Shelby. Then she paused, a sour look crossing her face. “The only person not being cleared by this run of logic is me, you realize. Please come up with some clever reason that I can’t be the werewolf, all right? Just so I feel better.”