Written in Red (47 page)
“But I wanna stay here,” Sam protested.
She shook her head, unable to explain, even to herself, why she wanted to be in a place where the door opened to ground instead of stairs.
He whined quietly as she led him out the kitchen door to the second-floor entrance in Simon’s apartment. When they reached the living room, she knelt in front of him, that gray-eyed boy who made her wonder if she had any younger brothers. She had never heard of a male
cassandra sangue,
and lately had begun to wonder what happened to the male children who were born to the girls who were bred. Were they abandoned? Killed? Fostered somewhere for some other use? She would never know. But for a little while, there had been someone in her life who could have been her little brother, and she loved him.
“Listen to me, Sam,” she said quietly. “Some bad people have come into the Courtyard, and they’re causing trouble.” She could feel him shrinking into himself. When she took his hands, they were furry and no longer shaped like a human’s. “You need to mind me and do exactly what I say. All right?”
He nodded. She wasn’t sure he could speak anymore.
“I want you to shift to Wolf form. You’re stronger and faster as a Wolf
.
”
He struggled to form words. “Safety line?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not this time. Don’t let
anyone
put you in a harness or attach a safety line to you. If anyone tries to do that, you bite them as hard as you can and you run. You understand?”
“Bite and run.”
“Yes.”
She helped him out of his shoes, sweater, and shirt. “You shift now.”
Sam went behind the couch to finish pulling off his clothes. Meg sat back on her heels. Might not come to anything. Maybe she was being foolish or had misunderstood. Prophecies could change. A different choice in a string of choices could change everything. She and Sam were here, in the apartment, not out there where there was fear and pain and death. Why would they need to leave here until Simon and Nathan returned?
The prickling under her skin suddenly returned, and in the quiet that surrounded the Green Complex, she heard the sound of a BOW.
CHAPTER 26
V
lad, Nyx, and a handful of their kin flowed over the snow like segments of a black serpent as they headed for the Utilities Complex. Other Sanguinati were headed for the western breach to help the Hawks and Wolves fight the intruders.
He and Nyx hadn’t questioned Erebus’s command to destroy whatever dared touch the
terra indigene
. Would these monkeys have started a war with the Others if Meg hadn’t come to the Courtyard? Maybe not. But someone the monkeys wanted back so much was someone the
terra indigene
were determined to keep.
Besides, he liked Meg, and her diligence in delivering Erebus’s movies gave Grandfather an untarnished pleasure the Sanguinati patriarch hadn’t experienced in many years.
A funnel of snow racing toward the buildings in the Utilities Complex. Beside it, moving just as fast, was a rising wave of snow.
Gunshots. A scream of pain. And the buzzy sound of snowmobiles.
Vlad and his kin flowed past the charred wing of a Hawk but didn’t see the rest of the body. As they rounded one corner of the main building, he saw a handful of intruders on snowmobiles. He saw Ferus trying to crawl away from the part of the building that was blown out and burning—and he saw one of the intruders raise a gun and shoot the already wounded Wolf
.
Vlad shifted partway, catching the gunman’s attention. Distracted by smoke starting to take human shape, the man didn’t see Blair, who was in the between form, until the Wolf knocked him off the snowmobile and tore out his throat.
The rest of the intruders are going to get away,
Vlad thought savagely. Their machines would get them out of the Courtyard, and they would use the storm to hide among the rest of the monkeys.
Then he realized the funnel of snow was heading straight for the Utilities gate and would reach it before the intruders could. As for the wave of snow . . .
Nyx shifted to her human form from the waist up, grabbed Ferus around the middle, and flowed over the snow, half carrying, half dragging the wounded Wolf
.
Vlad shifted all the way to human, grabbed Blair’s shoulders as the enforcer continued to tear at the enemy, and almost had his face ripped open when the Wolf turned on him and lashed out.
“Come with me!” Vlad shouted. “Now, Blair!”
A glance behind him was enough. Blair ran, and Vlad, shifting back to the safety of smoke, flowed after him as Tidal Wave released the snow and sent it crashing down, catching the three monkeys who had tried to evade Tornado. One man, jettisoned from Tornado’s funnel, flew over their heads and landed in a circle of smoke that grew hands and mouths and fangs.
Ignoring the feast, Vlad headed for the spot where Nyx waited with Ferus.
“Tornado left the Courtyard,” Blair said, shifting all the way back to human as he trotted up to them. “There’s going to be some damage to the monkeys’ part of the city.”
“Do we care?” Vlad asked.
Blair looked at Ferus, who was turning the snow red. “No. We don’t care.” He studied the ground and buildings around them. “Come on. I think we can muscle one of the BOWs out of the garage and get Ferus to the Wolfgard bodywalker.”
A frantic knocking on Simon’s front door.
“Meg? Meg! Are you in there?”
Meg looked back at Sam, whose furry face peered at her from behind the couch. Then she went to the door, pulled it open, and just stared at the blue sweater showing under Asia’s white parka.
“Meg . . .” Asia began.
“I don’t know that color blue,” Meg said, feeling cold inside as Asia stepped into the apartment.
“I know I’m not supposed to be here,” Asia said in a rush. “But, Meg, you have to listen to me. Some men are coming for you. All the other things that are happening now are just a diversion. And the other things that happened over the past few days? Those men were studying how the Wolves react. I have a BOW. It’s right outside. I’ll help you get away.”
“I don’t know that color.”
“What difference does
that
make?” Asia shouted.
“I saw that blue in the vision, with the sugar and the skull and crossbones,” Meg said, her voice so rough it produced an answering growl from Sam. “
You
tried to poison the ponies.”
Something in Asia’s face shifted, erasing all pretense of concern. “It was just a means to an end, like this is.”
“Like what is?”
“I meant what I said. They’re coming for you, Meg, but I’m not interested in
you.
Just give me the pup. I’ll be on my way, and you can run. You might even make it out of the Courtyard and find another place to hide for a while longer. Maybe forever.”
Stalling for time,
Meg realized. All the talk was just a way to stall for time. But there was one thing she needed to know. “Why do you want Sam?”
Asia smirked. “I know some men who would love to have some leverage over a Courtyard leader. They’re powerful men who could get a lot of concessions for us humans. A couple of them might even enjoy having an exotic pet for a while.”
He’s not property,
Meg thought as the cold inside her gave way to a furious heat. Giving Asia a hard shove, she shouted, “Run, Sam!”
Asia returned the shove, knocking Meg into a wall. Sam exploded from behind the couch. He had filled out a lot in the past three weeks, making up for the lack of growth during the years he’d been frozen by his mother’s death. His teeth didn’t sink into anything but Asia’s parka sleeve, but his weight and the way he swung his own body to bring down his prey was enough to throw her to her hands and knees.
Meg pushed off the wall, shouted “Sam!” and ran out the door. She wasn’t dressed for outside—no coat, no boots; nothing but jeans, her heaviest sweater, and shoes. But she ran to the BOW Asia had driven and yanked the door open. Sam jumped in and scrambled out of her way as she got in, turned the key, and put the BOW in gear before she closed her door. She was driving away from the apartments by the time Asia reached the road.
Glancing in her rearview mirror, she saw staggered lights approaching the Green Complex. Those must be the men Asia said were after her.
“You did good, Sam.” She’d heard the explosion and knew there was a problem up ahead, so she made the first left-hand turn she could, pushing for speed on a road oddly stripped of snow. “You did good.” Then she added silently,
Now it’s my turn.
At first, it didn’t look like there was much wrong with the Utilities Complex. Then Simon spotted Blair kneeling beside Ferus and saw the bloody snow. He pulled up close to them, put the BOW in park, and jumped out.
“How bad?” he asked Blair, adding a silent call to Vlad, who immediately stopped his efforts to shift the snow around the garage doors and strode toward them.
“One of the Hawks is dead, and Ferus took a couple of bullets,” Blair replied. “Not sure how bad he’s hurt inside, but he’s bleeding plenty. We need to get him to the Wolfgard bodywalker.”
Simon sprang up and opened the BOW’s back door. In the winter, most BOWs carried some basics: two blankets, a short-handled shovel, a snow brush, and an ice scraper. He grabbed the blankets and laid them out in the snow next to Ferus. He and Blair lifted the wounded Wolf onto the blankets, wrapped him, and eased him into the back compartment. Blair went around to the passenger’s seat, but Simon waited for Vlad.
“Something?” he asked, stepping away from the BOW.
“Nyx says there is a broken feast,” Vlad reported. “Three of the intruders are dead and already growing cold, but the other two . . . The hearts still beat, and the blood is still hot.”
“Then don’t waste them.”
“Big hole in the back of the building. The wave of snow smothered the fire. I don’t know if we’ll find any of our own in there.”
Simon bit back impatience. Ferus was bleeding. He didn’t have time for this. The Sanguinati did not always consider such things, but he knew Vlad well enough to know this wasn’t idle talk.
“The Elementals’ steeds are running with no hands on the reins,” Vlad said.
He wasn’t sure that was true, but he shrugged. “That isn’t up to us.”
“What do we do if Winter unleashes her fury?”
He knew the answer to
that
. As he opened the BOW’s door, he said, “We do our best to survive.”
Six snowmobiles roared up to the Green Complex. The special messenger pointed to three of his men and said, “Go after her. I’ll catch up.”
They raced after the BOW.
Pushing up his goggles, he gave Asia a cold stare. “You couldn’t follow orders, could you?”
“You want Meg Corbyn. I just want the Wolf pup.” When the stare didn’t change, Asia added, “She was going to bolt. I held her up as long as I could.”
He turned his head and said to one man, “Take her back to her car.”
“My car is stuck in the parking lot,” Asia protested.
“Then you’d better get it unstuck before these creatures notice you,” he said harshly. “You can take the ride or walk.” He put his goggles back on, then drove off with one member of his team. The other man waited, watching her.
She hesitated, tried to think it through. Then she realized he was about to leave her and hurried to mount behind him. She pressed against his back, shielding her face as best she could while they raced back to the business part of the Courtyard.
She needed time to think. The special messenger would have cut her out of the deal, would have made some excuse so his benefactor wouldn’t have to give her or her backers any payment for their help in finding Meg Corbyn. And that would probably sour the TV deal she’d been promised. But the messenger didn’t have Meg yet, and if she telephoned her backers fast, she could spin the story any way that would give her the best paycheck.
The team that set fire to the Pony Barn raced toward the Corvine gate. The leader looked over his shoulder and bared his teeth in a grin. Stupid fucking animals. If you left a gate open, that was an invitation to come on in, wasn’t it?
The Crows winging a few feet above the snow, following them, would have made good target practice, but his orders were to get out of the Courtyard as soon as the assignment was complete.
Shooting one of those ponies hadn’t taken extra time and was a bonus distraction. Besides, what did the Others use ponies for anyway? Transportation? Food?
Then fog suddenly surrounded him and his team, so thick he could barely see the headlights on the other snowmobiles.
“Halt!” he shouted, hoping his men wouldn’t run over him. How could fog roll in so fast? And where the fuck was the road that would take them to the gate? And what was that sound?
A gust of wind pushed the snowmobile forward, and heavy rain drenched him.
Rain? When it was
this
cold? What the . . . ?
The last man in line screamed as spinning winds and punishing rain turned snow into an ice field. The snowmobiles slid away from one another, lost in the thick fog that should have been blown away with the wind—and wasn’t.
Gasping for breath, the leader tried to see something, anything. “Report!” he shouted.
“Here!” a member of his team answered.
The leader didn’t have time to shout a warning before a funnel of snow appeared out of the fog, snatched the man off the snowmobile, and turned away in a move that didn’t belong to any natural storm.
Another shout. The lights of a snowmobile headed right for him. He revved the engine of his own machine, then realized with a shock that the runners were frozen to the snow. The other man veered at the last minute, clipping the leader’s machine enough to break it out of the ice before the other machine suddenly pitched forward, tossing the rider over the handles.
The fog lifted as quickly as it had arrived, giving the team leader a clear view of one of his men struggling and thrashing and screaming and
sinking into the snow.
And he suddenly had a clear view of a horse the color of sand standing beside the odd snow, watching him.
Snow acting like quicksand. Gods above and below, what kind of place is a Courtyard anyway that snow can turn into quicksand?
Seconds later, only silence. A snowmobile, its nose buried. Unmarred snow that gave no indication that a man had just died beneath it. And a horse staring at him with hate-filled eyes.
He raced away, ignoring the twisted machines and twisted bodies, intent on outrunning the horse that raced after him.
The right side of the snowmobile sank, pitching him off. He rolled, then tried to get to his feet, but the snow sucked his legs down. Unbalanced, he fell back, and his arms sank to his elbows, pinning him.
“Help me!” he shouted. “Help!”
The Crows winged in, and the horse ran off. Before he could free an arm, they were on him, shifting into three naked females and one male. They yanked off his goggles, ripped off his ski mask, tore open his parka.
“What do we do with him, Jenni?” the male asked.
The one named Jenni cocked her head to one side, then the other. “He killed a pony. And he’s one of the monkeys who were trying to take our Meg. So I say one for me.” Her head shifted from human female to black-feathered Crow. She grabbed his head in strong hands and plucked out one eye with her beak. Tipping her head back, she swallowed the eye, then shifted back to a human female with a few black feathers still mixed with her hair. “And one for you.”
The male’s head changed. The Crow plucked out the man’s other eye.
Ignoring his screams, they were gone in a flutter of wings, leaving him blinded and bleeding and half buried in the snow.
Meg slowed the BOW to a crawl as she drove over Ripple Bridge. The sky was a dark gray that made it hard to see without headlights, but the headlights would have made
her
easier to see.
Once they crossed the bridge, she rolled down her window and listened, then looked at Sam. “Do you hear the bad men?”
He whined, which she took for an affirmative answer.
Rolling up the window, she drove as fast as she could to the Chambers. She had to get this much done. She had to.
