You've Got Tail (30 page)

I let go of the pantyhose and pistol. He howled an angry roar as he swooped down on my broken captor and threw him like a rag doll against the metal pole.

Quickly he descended on the cage door, beating at the lock with his fists trying to get to me.

“The keys are over there.” My voice sounded small even in my own ears. “Over there.” I pointed to the floor where they'd dropped.

When I was free of my prison, I threw my arms around him and cried. I'd been brave for as long as I could stand it, and now I just wanted to be held. “Oh, Babe. I can't believe you're here. I can't believe it.”

I ran my fingers through the warm thickness of his fur. His body changed and shifted again under my touch until he turned back to human form. “You had me so scared,” he whispered.

“Uh, hellooo?” Sheila said. “I hate to interrupt this beautiful moment, but could someone get me out of this fucking cage?”

“Chavvah's here,” I whispered with a ragged breath. “I haven't seen her yet, but she's alive.”

A
pparently, we'd been held in some kind of private hunting compound. Outside the Morton building laid a vast expanse of wooded area with a road leading up a hill to the right. I wanted to know how Babel had found me, but the explanation could wait until we were safely out of there.

Chav looked godawful. She had bruises and cuts all over her face and her left eye was swollen shut and damned near black in color. Her right arm was a mangled mess, confirming they'd broken it, and it was already setting wrong. The same with her legs and foot. They were twisted and bent in unnatural angles.
What else had they done to her?
Her chestnut-brown hair fell over her good eye, and I could see it was going to be a question for later. Much, much later.

Eager to leave, I searched for Babel's truck.

“It's up at the house.” He gestured towards the road.

“I'm out of here,” Sheila muttered and started off up the drive.

“You're not going anywhere, bitch.” Chavvah, who was in Babe's arms, pointed at Sheila. “She's responsible for Judah dying.”

Sheila began to back up, but I pointed the dart gun at her. “Don't even think about it.”

Babel growled. “The sheriff's up at the big house,” he told Chav, than focused on me. “We took out the men at the road and cabin, and I didn't wait for the sheriff to find you.”

“How?”

“I followed your scent from the house.” He leaned over, a feat with Chav in his arms, and nuzzled my neck. “I'd know it anywhere.”

“No, I mean, how did you find me? And where the hell are we?”

“The sheriff figured it out. Those names you gave him, he cross-referenced names in the hunting license database and found out that this place was owned by three business men who vacation down here, almost always in July. A John Weatherly, Carl Perkins, and Samuel Wheeldon. They'd been in trouble with the Department of Conservation in the past, and we took a chance.” His expression grew fierce. “I'd have torn up the entire state to find you, if that's what it took. When you didn't come back to the party…God, Sunny. Don't do that ever again.”

I melted, inside and out. “Never again. I swear.”

“Uh, what the hell?” Chav asked. “Am I missing something here?”

Yikes. Best friend's baby bro. I forgot about that hurdle. “We'll talk about it later.”

“Damn skippy.” She leaned her hand on Babel's shoulder. “Sheila isn't the mastermind, by the way.”

“I know,” I said. I'd remembered the nails clicking. “It's Neville Lutjen.”

“How'd you know?” Chav ignored the look of surprise on her brother's face.

“When he attacked me in his shifted form, he clicked his claws together in a distinct beat. He had drummed the same staccato beat with his fingernails on his desk when I'd gone to his office. I've noticed it at other times, but it didn't click until right before he shot me with the dart. Add in that his wife needed expensive treatments and the man became the number one suspect on my list.” I looked at Babe and Chav. “I can't believe I didn't see it sooner.” I really was a bad psychic.

The sound of barking averted my attention, and I saw Judah up on the road. His body seemed to glow as he paced back and forth. I patted Babel's back “Judah's trying to get our attention. I think he wants to lead us somewhere.”

“Wait, what?” Sheila asked. “Judah's dead. How's he going to lead you anywhere?”

Chav buried her head in Babel's chest.

“I know,” Babe said, patting her gently. “But in a way, he's still here. Sunny can see him.”

“Sunny,” Chav said. She turned her bruised and swollen face to look at me. Her red-eyed gaze gutted me.

“It's true. Billy Bob told me what you suspected about me, and you were right.”

She nodded and put her head back on Babe's chest.

His gaze met mine. “Where?”

“I don't know.” I pointed up the road with my free hand and jabbed Sheila in the ribs with the gun to keep her from getting any funny ideas about escaping. One thing I didn't understand—well, more than one thing, but this one was bothering me. “Why did Neville put you in the cage? If you were his partner? I don't get it.”

Sheila barked a sharp, high noise. “The fucker killed Judah. That wasn't part of our deal. It was never part of the deal!”

Lordy. She really was cray-cray. What the hell had she
thought
happened to Judah? He'd gone off to the live in the land of lollipops and fairy dust? I'd never thought of Sheila as dumb, but she had me reevaluating my assessment.

I prodded her along while we followed the ghost coyote and headed up the road as it unfolded to the large house. It looked like a freaking country club. Backwoods chic, if I had to give it a name. The place was completely cedar-sided, three stories with party decks and full-on landscaping.

The distraction of its grandeur was all Sheila needed. She pushed me backward. I shouted, “No, stop her!” But it was too late; she was already shifting into coyote form as she bounded into the nearby woods.

“Let her go, Sunny.” Babel said. “She won't get far. I promise.” He squeezed my hand.

I nodded and reluctantly focused my attention back to the house. The sheriff's vehicle, Babel's truck, and two other patrol cars were parked out front, along with two dark Suburban SUVs. Like the one that had run Jo Jo and I off the road. Tyler Thompson stood beside one of the patrol cars. The front door was open, and the dome light illuminated the interior. Three men, I assumed the other “keepers”, were handcuffed in the backseat. Billy Bob, his dreads pulled back from his face, ran down to meet us and took Chav from Babel.

“Doc,” she said, her voice weak and tired.

“Shh,” he told her. “I'm going to get you fixed up. Don't you worry.”

I felt a rush of relief. I knew Billy Bob wasn't Babe's favorite person, but I was glad to have him here. Chav needed more help than we could give her, and we couldn't keep her safe if something happened.

At the front steps of the big house, Judah ran up them and through the door. I took Babel's hand, a sense of dread taking hold of me. “We have to go inside.”

Oh man, I didn't want to go inside. I had a feeling whatever was inside would not be pleasant.

Babel put both his hands around mine. “We cleared the place. It's safe.”

I wasn't worried about the bad guys. There was something else in here. Something I knew—because I could feel it—would change the way everyone who entered looked at the world for the rest of their lives.

Judah waited in the foyer for Babel and me. There was a large staircase leading to the upstairs, like what you'd see in a fancy plantation house in Georgia. Judah's green eyes stared up at me before he turned and loped behind the stairs.

Completely nerve-wracked, I began to shake. My legs were like puddles of warm Jell-O, refusing to cooperate. Babel slid his arm across my shoulder and his strength firmed my resolve.

We walked around the stairs to a set of French doors with wildlife scenes etched into the glass. I turned the knob and pulled the left side open.

The trophy room.

I dropped to my knees retching.

Near the doorway, a mountain lion had been stuffed and mounted on a rock, as if lying in wait for its prey. I put my hand over my mouth. Rose Ann.

And not just hers. Animal heads lined the walls above a high cedar wainscoting. Moose, elk, lion, rhinoceros, then coyote, coyote, deer, coyote, bear, coyote, and…

Oh, God. Tears fell from my eyes as I held my breath. I saw each of the therians as they were hunted. Images of slaughter after slaughter flooded my mind. My chest tightened. Too much. It was too much.

“No!” I heard Babel's hoarse cry.

Helplessly, I watched as he stumbled forward to the trophy on the end.

Judah.

Not only had these therians been caged and hunted like animals, they'd been decapitated as decorations. Their murderers had sat in large leather chairs, admiring their kills while they'd sipped whiskey and smoked cigars.

Sheriff Sid Taylor came around the corner at that moment. He dropped the notebook he carried and turned deathly pale. “How could this happen?” he asked, staggering back. “This can't happen.”

“Sheriff?” I heard Connelly's voice from out in the foyer.

I let go of the breath I'd been holding. “Don't let him see this, Sheriff. No one should have to see this.”

“I have to get some air,” Sheriff Taylor whispered, his voice barely audible.

Babel was methodically unhooking the heads and placing them on the floor, his grief finding purpose. If I had been a stronger woman, I'd have stayed to help. But I wasn't. I needed to get out of the claustrophobic room before I hyperventilated.

I ran from the house, falling once again to me knees as my feet touched the soil in the yard. Every nerve ending in my body was alight with sensation. Eldin Farraday put his hand on my shoulder.

“Don't touch me!” I screamed. His palm alone made my skin feel like a thousand needles were puncturing my flesh. “Just stay back.” I heaved a breath, trying to gain some control, but my body wasn't so obliging.

Farraday walked away, leaving me to my choking grief.

While I was still on my knees, Judah started whining and pacing around me. I glanced up too late as a blur of a shape sailed across the air to me and landed on my chest. The brown eyes of the beast glared down at me as it snarled and snapped.

Fucking Sheila!

I threw my left hand up and she latched on with her teeth. Sheila jumped sideways, then tried to twist over me to get a better hold. She wanted control, but she was out of luck. I kicked her vulnerable midsection as she jumped over me again, and with my right hand, I grabbed out for anything close. My fingers closed around a rock.

I cracked her in the head with all the strength I could muster, stunning her for a second. She roared back and brought both her hands together into a collective fist to pummel me. I braced myself for the blow, but before she could strike, a loud blast shook the night air. Sheila looked down at me, shock and disbelief written on her face. Blood trickled from her nose. I shoved her and she fell over, her hand clutching her chest.

She'd been shot. She collapsed on top of me, and I was too exhausted to do anything about it. Someone pulled her off me. When I looked up, Tyler Thompson stood over us, one hand holding a pistol, the other he held out to me. I took it, and he pulled me up.

Seeing Sheila's dead body made a part of me feel sick and disgusted, but the bigger part of me wanted to dance on her grave. Tyler gave me a nod. I returned it. We wouldn't be best friends, but in that moment, we'd come to an understanding. He'd saved my life, and I would be grateful enough to forgive him for being a jerk.

Once again, the air became thick and heavy with energy. Judah began pacing. Soon he was joined by other ghosts, those of the other fallen therians. All of them, except the mountain lion. There was pressure in my chest and head. I felt surrounded. Suffocated.

A soft breeze fluttered against my cheek. “Excuse me, do you know where I'm supposed to be?” a gentle voice breathed into my ear.

Looking up through hot tears, I saw an apparition of grace. For a moment I thought she was an angel, until I recognized the pretty blonde ghost as Rose Ann Corman. “Rose Ann,” I said.

“Who?” She dipped her hand against the black bear's face when he stopped in front of her. “It's okay,” she said to him.

I reached out and touched Rose Ann's arm. The woman's eyes widened and there was an electric snap in my finger.

“Oh, my. Oh, no.” The serene quality of the spirit disappeared. “My son, my husband.”

“They're safe,” I told her. Though they weren't well. I left that part out.

She looked around at the other ghosts. “You have to help them,” she said with a new kind of determination.

“What can I do? It's too late. I'm too late.” Like nine years too late.

Judah rubbed against me. There was a slight pressure, not exactly solid, more like the sensation of a warm breath on my skin. How was that possible? Something had changed in me, something tangible. I didn't understand it, but I knew it had purpose. “Tell me what to do.”

Rose Ann beckoned me to my feet. All three deputies, the sheriff, and Babel were outside now, staring at me. “I have to help them,” I said, sounding absent even to myself.

The ghost of Jo Jo's mother led me out into the woods. We walked along, passing wild flowers like the ones I'd seen in my vision of Judah's death. I don't know how long it took us, but I didn't even feel tired as we stepped into a small open patch of land.

Before I could think about what I was doing, I was down on the ground digging at the dirt and grass with my bare hands. Babel dropped beside me and began tearing at the ground with partially formed claws. Then the sheriff and the deputies were there as well. All of us, even Tyler Thompson, dug at the hard dirt, pulling at clumps of weeds and grass, are hands sheering on sharp flint rock as we dug below the surface.