Page 55 of Black Bird

“Wren?”

“Hey … look, I’m sorry to bother you. You know you’d be the last person I’d ever call for help, but—”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Sarah …”

“What happened? Where are you?”

“We’re at a Halloween gig at Back Door Bar. I can’t convince her to leave. She’s gonna do something stupid and I need someone to help me.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“I wouldn’t stay here if somebody paid me! I’m here to pick up someone that can’t drive herself home, now get the fuck outta the way!” Brent screeched at the bouncer outside the bar.

“She can meet you out here. Get back.” The muscled grunt shoved him with his forearm and inched himself further in front of the door.

“Do you know who I am?” Brent asked, a light mist of rain glistening on his suit.

“Yeah, I know who you are. And your name ain’t on the list. Get back.”

Brent pointed at him. “You’re gonna regret this shit.”

“Goodie.” The guy smirked, his bald head shining in the streetlight.

Brent slid his phone out of his pocket and dialed Wren.

“Hey!”

“I can’t get in here. You’re gonna have to bring her out.”

“Dude, that ain’t gonna happen.”

“What’s going on?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

He hung up on her and fisted his hair as he turned around. “Fuck!” he groaned.

Athan had been sweating as he watched Rhaena struggle helplessly against her restraints in her wolf form for the past few hours. He’d been frustrated enough, wanting to end this for her and knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing, to peel his jacket off and toss it onto the bed. He sat against an old wooden nightstand on the floor with his knees up and his hands in his hair as she howled and roared. She looked pitiful. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this dozens of times, but the longer they’d known each other, the more it ate at him. He needed a cigarette … and some air. He stood, grabbing his jacket off the bed and giving the massive beast a look of condolence before retreating into the den and out the front door to take a moment on the covered front porch.

The rain had stopped, and he could see puffs of his breath in the chill of the air as he pulled the jacket back on and dug out his pack. The glow of his cherry lit the palms of his hands as he flicked his lighter shut and inhaled deeply, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke. A couple of long drags in, his phone started ringing. It was the precinct.

“Kane.”

“Kane, it’s Jenkins. Is Northwood with you?”

“No, she’s off for a few days. Why, what’s up?”

“I’ve been trying both your phones. You’ve got a body.”

“What?”

“A … bo-dy …”Jenkins emphasized.

“Why are you calling us? Aren’t you homicide, too? We’re already on a case.”

“Kane, you don’t understand … this is yours. I need one of you to get here. Now. You’re gonna wanna see this.”

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