Page 35 of Golden Eagle

9

Lanny’s nose worked like a drug dog’s these days. Trina refrained from telling him as much as they criss-crossed their way, slow and methodical, across their precinct, peering in dumpsters, lingering in alleys, Lanny’s head tipped back as he breathed deep, nostrils flared, searching for the scents they’d picked up off the dead body last night.

He paused, once, at the door of a dry cleaner, eyes sparking. “Maybe…nah.” Shook his head and pressed on.

They ate cart hotdogs for lunch, and then had to swing into a bodega for a bottle of Tums. The sun had sunk below the horizon, and the streetlamps were coming on; they’d just decided to call it a day and grab dinner, when Lanny froze, and he took a short, sharp breath in through his nose; it whistled faintly.

Trina’s hand went automatically to the butt of her gun. “What?”

He nodded forward down the sidewalk, his eyes wide, pupils expanding. “Them. I recognize them.”

Trina followed his gaze. A small crowd of teenagers stepped out of the Verizon store and headed for the street, laughing and hailing a cab. When they were past, Trina spotted two people standing totally still, side-by-side. A rangy young man with shining, curly dark hair, and a strikingly handsome face. The other was young, a boy, she realized, his expression sullen, white-blond hair cupped around his head in a grown-out pageboy cut.

“Wolves,” Lanny said, and then Trina recognized the older, handsomer one.

“Virginia,” she said. “They’re…”

Both wore modern clothes, mostly, but long-hemmed hoodies overtop their t-shirts and jeans. Long-hemmed hoodies in a very particular shade of green.

The wolves started toward them.

“What’s your read on this?” Trina asked, and for maybe the first time hated that she lacked his new, upgraded senses.

“They want to talk,” Lanny said. “They’re friendly. I think.”

And then the wolves were right in front of them.

Trina’s hand tightened on her gun.

The handsome one’s gaze flicked down, noting the movement, then lifted to meet her own. He smiled, charming and friendly. “Hello.” British accent. “I’m afraid we haven’t officially met as of yet. My name is Will Scarlet, and this is Much.” He laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder that was shrugged off. “We were–”

“At the Institute,” Trina said. “What are you doing here?”

Much’s expression soured, but Will’s smile became amused, his eyes shining.

“Bungling introductions all the way around, apparently,” Will said. “We spoke with Nikita and Sasha last night,” he continued, which was news to Trina, “and I suppose it’s only fair if we talk to each member of your pack.”

“About…?” Lanny asked.

“A possible alliance.”

Trina took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. She couldn’t decide, in the moment, if she was annoyed, or worried, or both.

“I’m sorry,” Will continued. “I don’t mean to presume, and you’re of course under no obligation. I thought we might buy you dinner, and that we could discuss things further. Not tonight, obviously, if that doesn’t work for you. We’ll be in town for a few days.”

He was so…pleasant. Reasonable.

She traded a look with Lanny, who gave her his little eyebrow shrug. Her own human instincts told her these guys weren’t dangerous, and if Lanny wasn’t detecting anything nefarious, then she guessed they had no reason to be rude. Only…

She turned back to Will and said, “We’re not looking to get into the whole immortal superhero thing, understand. We have lives and jobs here.”

“Of course,” Will said. “But I’d still like the chance to talk, if that’s alright.”

She shrugged. “We were about to get dinner, anyway.”

He beamed. “Lovely.”

Much rolled his eyes.

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