Shadow Rites: A Jane Yellowrock Novel (27 page)

I don’t have my gobag,
Jane thought.

Beast sent Jane vision of Jane waking up in mud, smell of catfish all over her.

Not funny. And not happening in front of Leo and Grégoire. Let’s get home.

Using darkness to hide movements, Beast slowly gathered self and shifted all weight to paws. Leaped from ground. Landed on top of rounded human-dead-place. Below, Grégoire and Leo were shouting but not in Jane language. Beast leaped to next roof and next and many more than five. Vampires followed, calling to Jane.
Am not Jane! Am Beast! Stupid foolish vampires. Did not feed Beast!
screamed into night.

Gathered big-cat power and leaped over three small
human-dead-places at one time, and then over wall. Landed in limb of tree over street. Jumped to top of car Jane called
limo
and then onto truck going past. Settled onto truck top, claws spread and belly down for balance.

Jumped to more trucks, moving downstream near big flowing river. Smelled water from river, strong and fast. Jumped to street into darkest shadows and padded slowly to Jane house. Wards were up, bright and silver and green, and, in Jane eyes, red. Walked to front door and stood up on hind legs. Extruded claw, rang bell. Heard Angie Baby and Little Evan and smelled wolf. Alex opened door.

Beast leaped inside. Landed on wolf back. Sank claws into white wolf. Bit down on wolf haunches. Wolf yelped, growled, and rolled over, trapping Beast. Beast chuffed with laughter and bit wolf. Play bite. Did not taste blood. Wolf rolled again, making dog sounds of laughter and joy. Wolf was heavy. Beast scratched and bit and rolled from under wolf. Wolf coat was thick, good weapon against big-cat killing teeth.

Played with wolf for long time, dodging Angie Baby and EJ, who squealed and ran, feet making thumping noises on wooden floor. Until Beast and wolf were panting and lying, looking at each other. Wolf tongue hanging out of mouth, dripping drool to floor.
Stupid wolf.
Thought for a moment.
Beast
likes
stupid wolf.

I like him too,
Jane thought.
How weird is my life?

Alex said, “If you two are finished roughhousing, I need to get the kids to bed and tell you what I discovered. Get out of the way, Kit-Kit. Jeez. It’s a zoo in here.” The boy went upstairs, tugging witch kits with each hand. Beast looked away from wolf and rested head on paws, heated belly on wooden floor. Panting. Wolf still panting too. Kit-Kit sat at wolf mouth near drool and curled up on wolf paws. Closed eyes. Went to sleep.

Beast sighed heavy breath and closed eyes.
Vampire blood is good blood.

*   *   *

“Wake up, you two,” Alex said. I need to update you.”

Beast opened eyes. Wolf opened one eye. Like Leo raised one eyebrow.

“Jane, are you alert enough to listen?”

I/we nodded Beast’s head. Was stupid human movement.

“Okay,” Alex said. “I’m not sure where I left Jane on the search for Reach. I tracked the cell he used to City Grounds Coffee Bar on West Dickens Avenue in Chicago. It was behind the counter where the staff put it because they assumed a customer would be back for it. No cameras on the doors, no vid of Reach. Coffee bar is near Oz Park, not too far from the lake, so lots of ways in and out. Dead end.” Alex toed wolf. “Wake up, dog. I’m talking here.”

Is not dog. Is wolf.

Wolf snorted and showed killing teeth to Alex.

Beast saw cell phone was glowing. Jane thought,
Alex is on speakerphone. Stand up and see who’s on the other end.

Beast stood and looked at cell. Was picture of man.

Captain America,
Jane thought.
So Eli’s on speaker. We’re good.
Beast lay down again.

Alex said, “I’ve been studying about the Mings, trying to find what Ming of Mearkanis being alive might mean to the current political situation, the Witch Conclave, and the arrival of the European Vamps. I have a feeling that whoever is behind all this had no idea she would be found, and her discovery is throwing a monkey wrench into the plans.”

“Roger that,” Eli said.

“I’ve been looking at how the Mings got to this continent, and according to Reach’s database, there’s no record of the twin Ming sisters first arriving in the Americas. At some point they were owned by a Creole family of vamps by the name of Bondaille. Other than that, the records never existed or have been lost.

“There’s no record of how Ming Zhane rose to Blood Master of Clan Glass. Ming Zoya became Blood Master of Clan Mearkanis, and that one is well documented.”

Alex’s words have no blood,
Beast thought.

Boring,
Jane agreed.

Wolf snuffled and rolled over to lie on back, belly in air, eyes on Kit-Kit, pawing at little cat. Beast wondered
if wolf meat was good to eat. Jane thought,
Only if you want to turn me into a werewolf. I survived two bites and have no desire to risk it again. And his name is Brute.

Like name Wolf better,
Beast thought.
Wolf is Wolf like Beast is Beast.

“The remains of the humans at the pit where Ming of Mearkanis was found have received official, legal, forensic autopsies and have been identified by comparing missing persons reports and dental records.”

Beast’s ear tabs twitched in interest and Jane moved into Beast eyes to stare out at Alex.

“Their names are Onus Rebarius Brown,” he said, “age twenty-four when he went missing, and his girlfriend, Jesimine Ladasha Pirrie, age nineteen. No firm COD or TOD has been established, but the bone scarring and healing around wrists and ankles suggest they were shackled and alive for some time in the pit.
Scavenger depredation
,” he emphasized, “took place postmortem, and may be interfering with the COD determination. Changing water tables are interfering with TOD.”

Jane thought,
COD and TOD. Cause of death and time of death.

“Local LEOs are not saying who or what they think killed the couple, but the chains suggest that they were kidnapped, possibly tortured, leaving mostly soft tissue damage, then drowned. And then the water table dropped, and animals got in somehow, and then the water table went back up. Maybe several times.”

“But they think vampires?” Eli asked over the cell connection.

“They think weres of some sort.”

Wolf snorted at words. Still upside down, he batted house cat with oversized paws. Kit-Kit batted back.

“Hmm,” Eli said.

“Yeah. Anyway, I started researching the brooches and found the style was based on Egyptian history, in European and American revival jewelry and art from several decades in modern history. There’s a maker’s mark, and they were signed by an artist, so we know they were made by a local New Orleans jeweler, but there’s no documented
tie-in with the Mings, or with any of the witches or the vamps, and I don’t think I’ll find any.”

“Copy,” Eli said. “Jane, I’m not sure what happened with Edmund, with you doing that whole—” He stopped. “With you taking off that way.”

Beast chuffed at Jane’s amusement. Eli was about to say things on cell that might be overheard by ambush hunters.

“Lachish is at Tulane, surrounded by witches and cops and a doctor named Robere. Sound familiar?”

Beast yawned.

“She needs surgery on her leg and arm, and the good doctor has privileges there, so he’ll be scrubbing in to assist, gratis. The MOC has offered his blood to help in healing, especially so that she can show up at the big wingding. I’ve already secured a wheelchair and ramps for the Elms, and the staff and family at the Elms are suddenly more agreeable to allowing cameras in-site. They want a price from YS for security upgrades. Evan is fine. Edmund donated enough blood that Molly and Ailis were able to finish his healing. He’s a little tender, but he and Molly are on the way home.”

“But the Witch Conclave is still on?” Alex asked.

“Roger that. But I think we should get a bloodhound and walk the grounds of the Elms. See if we can get a scent.”

Beast’s head went up. Snorted. Eli meant Beast to let Jane become ugly dog with good nose. Beast growled. Wolf turned over and tilted head, watching Beast.
Could use Wolf?
Beast asked Jane.

No. I think we need to shift and do it ourselves.

Beast snorted in disgust. Was good word, disgust.
Is stupid. Is prey move.

Okay. It isn’t smart. But we’ve done it before. Once. We survived.

Stupid, foolish, kit thing to do.
But nodded head as humans would.

“She’s in,” Alex said. “I’ll get her box of bones and put a steak on to sear.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” The connection ended.

Beast and Jane followed Alex to Jane’s room and stood in doorway, watching as Alex got chair and stood on it, feeling around on top shelf for box of bones and teeth. When he set it on floor he paused and looked at Beast. “I don’t guess I could watch this ti—”

Beast snarled and growled, vibration loud in warning. Showed killing teeth.

“Right. Never mind. Forget I asked.”

Beast growled again and Alex stink changed with fear.
Good fear smell.
Beast chuffed. Alex walked fast out of Jane room, closing door. Beast pushed on door with nose to make sure it was shut. Pushed small lock with nose. And went to bed, jumped on top. Jane’s den was good den. Soft den. Good place for kittens. Jane did not reply, so Beast opened box with teeth. Picked out necklace of bloodhound teeth and bones.
Do not like ugly dog. But good nose.
Settled on bed and let Jane reach into bones and teeth and into snake at heart of all things.

Jane shifted, first into Jane, and then into ugly, hungry dog.

*   *   *

When Eli knocked on the bedroom door, I gave a friendly woof.

“You locked it,” he said, the faint click telling me that the latch had been no concern for the Ranger. Eli stepped inside, and though I couldn’t see well in this species’ form, I smelled his exhaustion, tart and marginally sour. With the long ears and folds of loose skin, it was hard to see anything, and I shook myself, the flesh slapping, rippling, and sliding over deeper tissue. Eli held a leash and a Canine Service dog vest, and Beast crinkled up our nose at the smell of it, but I stepped off the mattress and sat, like a good dog.

Brute pushed into the room and stopped short. His head whipped back and forth, his nose scenting the air. He growled. A werewolf growl was much louder than Beast’s, a vibration that swept into the walls and floor and made the house judder under me. I went utterly still.

Eli grabbed Brute by the ear and yanked back. The wolf snapped in the air and the Ranger made a move taught by
Uncle Sam’s army. Brute yelped and ended up halfway back into the living room. Eli followed and shut the door with force, if quietly enough not to wake the kiddos. I heard him say, “You do not snap, were. That’s a death sentence for your kind.”

I walked to the leash and sniffed it. It smelled like me, and like another dog, a not me-dog. I remembered other dogs and a lone wolf werewolf we had hunted with. The dog part of my brain associated the memories and I lay down beside the harness, remembering the smells of that hunt.

Hunger pulled my mind away from the past. More hungry than usual, my having shifted twice without eating.

Want cow.

I know. I smell meat. I’m sure they fixed us a nice meal.

Ten minutes went by, according to my unreliable internal clock, before Eli walked back into the room. I snuffled at him for the scent of blood or werewolf saliva. I got nothing, which was good. If Brute bit Eli, it would have meant Eli and the Mercy Blade in bed together for a few days of magical healing, which would surely not sit well with Eli’s überhetero tendencies. Even just a platonic, no-touch, no-tongue time in bed might send him over the edge. And Brute . . . As Eli had said. Brute would have been dead. There was no leniency for a were who bit a human. None at all. Automatic death sentence at the steel claws of the grindylows in the nation, and they had second sense when a human suffered a bite.

I whined softly as Eli knelt next to me.

He chuckled, the sound evil, and said, “He’s fine. But he’ll think twice about snapping around humans again.” I whined again.

“He’s okay. I’m okay. You’re okay. Step in,” he said, holding the harness out. I stepped into the harness and let him adjust the straps. “Let’s go, Fido.”

I butted him behind the knee and chuffed when his leg buckled. He laughed and led me to my steak dinner. The steak was cooked, but just enough to get the juices flowing, and it was so much more delicious and savory and smelled so much better than when I was Beast. I loved steak. I
licked the dish and raised my head, licking my drooping jowls and the floor. I licked Eli’s hand.

“Yeah,” he said, cleaning his hand on his pants. “Right. Let’s go.”

*   *   *

I leaped from the SUV to the ground at the Elms and instantly stuck my nose in the air. And wanted to fall down and roll on the ground from the intensity of it all. The first time I shifted into a bloodhound, it had been like being blindsided by an odoriferous Mack truck, and this time was no different. Magic, blood, magic, anger, blood, magic, Evan, Molly . . . I whined and Eli scratched behind my ears. I leaned into him, sorry now that I’d tried to trip him. He said something, but with my long ears flopping down over my ear canals, my hearing was affected.

He scratched me again and I snuffled him. Eli smelled good.
Like litter mate,
Beast thought. Eli jiggled the lead and led me/us along the sidewalk and around behind the house, where the scents were . . . intense. Amazing. I took breaths in little chuffs.

A bloodhound’s nose is more sensitive than any other dog’s in the canine kingdom, and, as with the first time I took this form, it made my brain go into overdrive, identifying every scent and its breakdown components, cataloging everything, noting associations and differences, calculating, parsing it all out into chemicals and pheromones and—

“Fido? Let’s go, girl.”

“Fido is a male name,” Nunez said. He smelled of spices and coffee and sugar from donuts, and peanuts and chocolate from Snickers bars. He smelled
good
. I lifted my head and snuffled his crotch. Nunez jumped back. Eli pulled me away with a sharp flick of the lead. “Fido. Bad girl.” I chuffed and turned my head to him, remembering that my nose wasn’t supposed to take over. I was Jane. Jane Yellowrock. Not a dog. Right. A skinwalker. But Nunez still smelled good.