Wolf trap, p.2
Wolf Trap, page 2
She might’ve known more, but her motives came into question rather abruptly. I looked up from the dress I was trying to step out of without dragging it through the dirt to find her snatching my umbrella, winding a mass of dark fabric around its handle, then tossing the combination up over the wall behind us. The entire grab-twist-throw happened so quickly, I only had time for a single word. “Hey!”
“You’re going after it.”
I was? Certainly not directly after it since the wall was well built and offered few obvious footholds. But, yes, Kami was right—I was definitely going to find a way to the other side to regain my most prized possession, all while rethinking the trust I’d so blithely granted to the woman by my side.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Kami chided, cocking her head as if she could hear the train even though we’d come too far for the sound to carry. “Ditch the dorky shapewear and shift.”
“I don’t have the foggiest idea…” I started. But my skin was tingling, my body twisting.
Abruptly, my eyes were far closer to the pavement than they had been a moment earlier. The puddled dress beside me was no longer rose but pale yellow. And scents that had whispered secrets when we arrived now yelled overwhelming knowledge of everyone who had passed this point for several hours prior.
I was a fox. Of course I was a fox; how could I have forgotten? The hard stays of my corset prodded my fur as I wriggled free of the tunnel cautious humanity dictated.
I appeared to owe Kami an apology, not that I could offer one now that I’d ditched human vocal cords. I whined instead and she seemed to get the gist.
“No worries. I get it. It’s weird not remembering.” Then, before I could try to broach any other topics, she returned to my previous question. “And yes, I’ll be fine. The Executioner will lose my trail in no time then I can spend the day busking.
“Here’s what you need to know,” she continued while shedding her own clothes without a single glance at the empty street. “I wrapped your uniform around the umbrella. Rosa is your friend and co-worker. She’ll fill the gaps in your memory and I’ll pick you up at the end of your shift.”
I was listening, but I was also paying attention to the twitch of my whiskers that told me the Executioner was approaching. The train had passed and even though I couldn’t smell or hear our pursuer, I somehow knew our time was running out.
The sooner I left, the sooner Kami could take herself to safety. Fox feet found the wall’s ornamental bulges as easy to traverse as a wide staircase. I was up and over before she stopped grousing at the buttons of my dress.
Bright lights in the mall’s parking lot made up for the fact that only a handful of cars graced the pavement at such an early hour. Which was handy since I had no idea what the woman I was meeting looked like.
For my own part, I was newly two-legged, dressed this time in the strange one-piece suit Kami had provided for me. Thus covered, I ignored the twinge of impropriety at my lack of a skirt and headed toward the only current sign of life. A minivan had pulled up around back as I approached, its taillights facing me. And for one split second, the woman emerging from the driver’s side door matched the only person my memory held dear enough to name.
“Okaasan,” I murmured, hurrying forward to join her. I knew before she took a step that my mother would move carefully due to age biting into her bones. Knew, even from this distance, that her hair would smell like cloves and cinnamon. Her arms around me would be as warm as sunbeams and…
I was almost close enough to suck up that beloved scent when the woman turned with just as much care as I expected and shattered the heartening illusion.
Yes, this woman was my mother’s age—sixtyish—and her dark eyes twinkled like Okaasan’s, making her appear much younger. But her facial features were clearly Latina, not Japanese. Unless I’d not only lost memories but chopped others up into confetti, this wasn’t my mother after all.
“Rosa?” I guessed, ignoring the sinking sensation in my stomach as I reached out to take the heavy tote of cleaning supplies out of her hand. After all, even if this wasn’t Okaasan, she was old enough to demand assistance and respect.
Welcome imbued every feature of her face as she nodded. “None other.”
She might have intended to say more, but just then the back door of the minivan slid open. And muscle memory whipped my sword out of its umbrella sheath in response to the overwhelming aroma of fur.
Male. Young. Fit. That was all I saw before the human-form werewolf flung himself at me with a one-word growl. “Fox.”
“Wolf,” I rebutted, slicing at the air in front of his nose.
Then Rosa was pushing her way between us so abruptly I had to turn my blade sideways to prevent it from cutting into innocent flesh. “Benito! Tru! Stop it!”
“Tía, you don’t understand.” Despite the aggressive scent flowing off him, the young man’s voice was low and restrained. “This woman isn’t who you think she is.”
“I could have said the exact same thing about you,” I rebutted. As I spoke, I angled my body to place it between him and Rosa, well aware that the older woman was only human and no match for an angry werewolf. The tricky part was deciding when the erratically moving Benito might spring in her direction…
Before I’d won more than a few inches of progress, however, Rosa slammed one palm into my shoulder and one into Benito’s chest then straightened her arms in unison. “Enough. I mean it. Both of you, calm down.”
Her strength was no match for ours, but any resistance on our part might result in her injury. So I let myself be shoved, and my estimation of Benito went up when he retreated as well.
And now that we finally had some very real physical distance between us, I was able to notice what I hadn’t earlier. The boy was years shy of his full growth, perhaps only a tall fourteen and skinny in the way of teenagers who’ve gained height so quickly they haven’t managed to match it with muscle.
He was also clinging to humanity with clear effort while menacing no one directly. Instead, he appeared to be angling to protect the older woman the same way I was.
Which meant—“I overreacted,” I admitted, sheathing my sword. “I apologize.”
The young man vibrated for one long moment, then he jerked his chin down in a nod that appeared almost painful. He didn’t meet my eyes, however, and his response was aimed at his relative. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Walk it off then,” Rosa agreed. “Come in when you’re ready.” Then, dismissing Benito and heading toward a smaller, less flashy door than the one I’d passed while rounding the building, she tossed over her shoulder, “Fox, huh? I didn’t see that coming. Didn’t realize introducing you to Benito would provoke such fireworks either.”
Looked like Rosa wasn’t going to fill all of my memory gaps after all.
Chapter 4
Rosa might not have been privy to my complete history, but she did know how to smooth my way through a job that my muscles found familiar but my conscious mind struggled with. From the locker where she stashed her purse and I reluctantly parted with my umbrella to the best way to clean without bothering the few early morning business owners, Rosa led me through a work day that should have felt familiar but definitely did not.
At first, I stared at the huge television screen in the mezzanine every time I passed near it and blushed at the skimpiness of my coveralls. But modernity faded from amazing to run-of-the-mill within a few hours. Soon, I was more interested in guessing why my vocabulary sometimes made Rosa chuckle then point out that plimsoll was deeply archaic.
“The word you’re looking for,” my mentor said gently, “is sneakers. Here, you’ll enjoy this.”
And I did. The vacuuming robot entranced me so thoroughly that I had to force myself to actually do my job rather than stare at it awestruck. Following the machine across the floor like a cat stalking a mouse, I almost failed to notice the security guard cornering Rosa when she returned from refilling the cleaning fluids in her tote.
“I’ll need to see some ID.” He swaggered closer, boxing her into a bend in the hallway with body language that proclaimed he was a lion slapping his paw down over a cockroach. In contrast, thick glasses and a potbelly made him an unlikely predator.
Rosa’s attention, however, fixated on his right hand and I strained to see what had her curling in on herself. The same woman who’d stood between my sword and an angry werewolf was doing her best to look innocuous as she murmured apologies. Why…?
Gun, my slippery memory informed me after a moment of intense concentration. Far more dangerous than a sword.
Rosa might not be my mother, but there was no way I was letting this man threaten her. I started toward the pair, but Rosa met my gaze and gave the tiniest head shake. Meanwhile, she obeyed the security guard as easy as if he wasn’t bullying his way into her personal space.
“You’re new,” she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a rectangular card. Her voice was firmer now than it had been before she noticed me watching. “But I’m not. I can assure you, everything is very much in order.”
Rather than answering, Mr. Potbelly snatched the card and turned it over in his hands, considering it far more intently than the small surface seemed to merit. As he did so, Rosa took advantage of his lack of attention to widen her eyes at me. “Take a break,” she mouthed, jerking her chin toward the exit door, outside which we’d shared beef jerky with Benito not so long ago. He’d been four-legged at the time, keeping his distance from me but accepting the snack from Rosa’s fingers as gently as if she was made of glass.
And that was only relevant because it meant now was very much not the time for another rest period. On the other hand, it was true that my pockets didn’t contain any rectangular cards. If asked for ID, I’d have nothing to share with this armed bully.
I didn’t obey immediately however. “Will you be safe without me?” I mouthed back.
Rosa nodded once, rolling her eyes in a way that made it clear she’d moved on from fear to disgruntlement. Just about then, the security guard gave up on trying to turn the card into something it wasn’t. He handed it back, then frowned and swiveled to find out what Rosa was looking at…
…But I was already gone. Speedwalking past barred shop entrances and sliding into the break room Rosa had led me in through. I snagged my umbrella from the locker then vacillated in front of the back door.
Yes, Rosa had seemed in control of the situation when I left, but how much of that was a facade donned for my benefit? Was I really going to leave Rosa alone with a man who threatened unknown trouble? A man using a dangerous weapon to bolster his weakness?
The gunshot that made up my mind came from in front of me, not from behind me. From outside where we’d left Benito pacing fifteen minutes earlier.
Time slowed as I shoved my way through the doorway. But I was too late. By the time I reached his furry body, Rosa’s nephew was dead.
He was dead and a vehicle was speeding off around the corner. I got the impression of something dark and blocky, then the shooter was gone far faster than feet could follow.
Still, I took off after the vehicle anyway, or tried to. Three steps in, a different car screeched to a halt directly in front of me, disgorging the same man I’d woken up handcuffed beside.
“What’s wrong?” the Executioner demanded, the saw rasp of his voice sharper than the part in his hair. This morning, long lashes had hinted at innocence, but that illusion fragmented as his gray eyes bored into mine in daylight. A stark memory of a losing battle with a dogpile of snarling werewolves drifted through my mind like smoke before a fire. Alpha. Danger. Every instinct demanded I run far and I run fast.
Still, I wasn’t about to abandon evidence of Benito’s killing. Not when Rosa would need answers to fill the hole her nephew left behind him. Not when Rosa might be in just as much danger from the Executioner as I was.
Instead, I spat questions back in his direction. “Why are you following me? How did you find me?”
The third potential query—was it coincidence that he’d shown up so soon after a deadly shooting?—wasn’t asked in words. Instead, I swallowed my fear and closed the space between us, hairs standing up along the back of my neck as I approached the werewolf that rubbed shrouded fear raw.
To my surprise, he didn’t move as I grabbed his wrists and yanked his hands up toward my nose. It was hard to force myself to breathe, not just through fear of his proximity but because of the way those gray eyes considered me in silence for an endless moment before he rasped out an answer to questions both asked and unasked. “I followed you because I didn’t want you running scared all day. I found you by driving a grid between the points where I lost your trail over the last three days. Now it’s your turn. What’s wrong?”
I only half listened, paying more attention to my nose than to his explanation. This man stank of the mouth-puckering astringency of alpha, yet lemon-meringue pie overwhelmed that more generic aroma. Sweet-tart deliciousness enfolded me in its embrace like the warmth of the hotel bed I’d woken in not many hours earlier. Despite myself, I found my urge to flee receding along with the half-memory from my past.
It helped that the Executioner hadn’t resisted my manhandling even though he easily could have. Instead, his head cocked as I inhaled again, taking in fur and lemon and sugar but no hint of rifle grease or gunpowder.
I dropped his hands with an effort. “You didn’t shoot Benito.”
I knew the moment the man beside me noticed the young wolf’s body because the sweetness of his scent turned caustic. Like an over-perfumed floor cleanser that seared the insides of my nostrils with its strength.
Meanwhile, muscles he seemed to have loosened for my sake tensed back into predatory readiness as he dropped to his knees, holding a hand in front of Benito’s nose to seek breath that wasn’t present. Then, unfolding himself with the same grace he’d used descending, he entered my personal space in a manner that felt nothing like the standoff between Rosa and the nosy security guard.
Because the Executioner wasn’t pressing his entire body close to mine in wordless aggression. He only offered his arms from the elbows up, carefully maintaining air space between his skin and my skin.
“Smell here,” he rasped. “Gloves.”
The Executioner was right. If he’d shot Benito while wearing gloves then yanked them off, his hands might have been entirely scentless while traces might cling to his forearms.
Of course, in that case, he’d be an idiot to suggest the sniff test. If I knew one thing, it was that the man beside me was no idiot.
Still, I took the tiniest step forward and obeyed him. A complicated bouquet of scents tempted a sneeze that didn’t quite erupt into existence. I couldn’t make out every facet of the aroma, but I knew one thing. No bite of gunpowder was present in the mix.
The caustic undertone, however, remained, and memory now offered an identification. Suspicion. The sentiment twisted my gut even though its presence was totally understandable. I’d been just as much in the wrong place at the wrong time when it came to Benito as the Executioner had.
And I could prove my innocence as easily as he had. I was raising my hands to do exactly that when motion flashed out of the corner of my eye and a hard male voice barked, “Freeze!”
Chapter 5
I spun to find that same security guard bursting through the door I’d recently come out of. Handgun raised and pointed directly at us, he no longer seemed like an ineffectual bully. Instead, he looked frightened—a bad emotion in an armed man.
Time that had stretched out since I heard the gunshot stung as it retreated like a released rubber band. This guard must have rushed out to investigate the same way I had, everything since the shooting having happened in minutes, seconds even. Something about the Executioner’s presence seemed to push me entirely out of time.
While I was still working through the reasons for the guard’s presence, a hard hand shoved me sideways. Faster than any human was capable of moving, the Executioner had insinuated his body between myself and danger.
“Freeze!” the guard barked a second time, urgency rising. I couldn’t see his finger tightening on the trigger but I could guess what was happening from the tension in his voice.
He was new, Rosa had said. New and prone to overreacting? I shivered, images of what gunshot wounds could do rising up out of the darkness of my memory. If the Executioner spooked him…
Despite his scare factor previously, the Executioner’s back became as still as the wolf body at our feet. His voice was raspy yet calm as he offered, “The dog was menacing a woman. I shot it in my official capacity as Animal Control officer.”
“Show me your hands!”
It appeared the security guard’s instincts were telling him exactly what mine had. That the Executioner was more dangerous than his stillness suggested. That this situation demanded fast, sure resolution.
I could only hope that didn’t mean resolution with a bullet.
The Executioner did raise one hand slowly, but the other remained behind him, close to but not quite touching my skin as if it was more important to keep tabs on me than to defuse the obvious danger. “I’m no longer holding a weapon. My service revolver is in the car. The trouble has passed.”
The bitterness of his lie slid around the edges of the dark suit that resolutely blocked my view of proceedings. It was maddening not to know what the guard was up to. Not to be able to watch the barrel of the gun that likely still pointed directly at us.
I began to step around the living barrier, but before I’d moved more than a few inches the Executioner’s arm snapped out to encircle my shoulders. One yank and I was teetering off balance while at the same time being supported so I wouldn’t fall.
I expected a gun shot and I flinched preemptively even though the angle meant any bullet would strike the Executioner instead of me. But the guard only swore as the man holding me rasped out an explanation. “She’s dizzy.”
