Page 43 of Wolf Bane
“That’s where tall, dumb, and bitey got me,” I muttered.“We need some freaking security lights.”
“Yeah, for someone who’s been hunted down, kidnapped, attacked, tortured, and nearly murdered several times in the past two years, you’d think you’d be more up to date on your security measures.”
“I installed those cameras near the door!”I threw up my good hand at Waltrip’s glare.“Can we table that for later?You and Ethan can both jump my ass about it.”And where was Ethan, I wanted to ask.Is he okay, does he know where I am, does he know about Garrow… But I swallowed it down and glared back.Waltrip was looking for any avenue to divert down, and I wasn’t about to make it easy for him.
He made an impatient sound, shoving my feet aside to sit on the bed.“Whoever’d been out there, it set Mal off in a tizzy.It was a night you were out with Ethan, and Mal was convinced he’d been hallucinating shit or was just mistaken.I made Mal stay inside and shifted, went out to see who it was…”
His pause was heavy, painful.
“Whoever it was, they had Garrow’s stink all over them.Ethan ever tell you about scent marking?”
“Uh, I know some animals do it to mark territory or sometimes their offspring… Is Garrow out there rubbing his face all over other weres or something?”The mental image was hilarious and disturbing.Picturing that florid, scowling face headbutting some lackey like a mama cat… “Oh my God, do you think he wears one of those ear headbands and a fake tail, or does he just use his own?”
“What?Jesus, Landry, neither!The principle is the same, but we don’t do that whole,” he waved one hand in annoyance, “thing unless it’s our kid or something.The kind I’m talking about is… bloodier.”Lips pressed into a thin line, he glared over his shoulder at the bedroom door.“Christ, where the hell is Benoit?”
“Waltrip.Spill.”
He made an unhappy, growling sound low in his chest, the complaint threaded with a thin whimper of discomfort.“Scent marking like this, it’s when a were starts their own clan.It’s an old way of doing things.Most clans don’t do this anymore.”He scrubbed his fingers through his beard, grimacing, obviously upset and annoyed.“Those loyal to their new leader drink some of their blood mixed with wine or beer or something like that.Then they smear it on their skin and shift.It’s symbolic, mostly, but traces of the leader’s scent mix with the loyalists.It’s… hard to explain.”
“At this point in my life, I’ve come to accept that anything to do with weres is uncharted territory for me,” I said quietly.“This were that came for Mal, they had Garrow’s scent?”
Waltrip nodded grimly.“They were gone by the time I got outside.So, I promised Mal I’d look into things with Garrow.I didn’t think he’d been sprung.”
“And Mal knows.”
Waltrip nodded.“He does now.I told him before I came here.Tyler’s at his place, watching out for him and Mariska.”
I nodded faintly.“And Ethan?”
“Probably not far behind me.”Waltrip chuckled darkly.“He’d have run here on all fours if he thought it’d be faster than driving.”
“And the six-million-dollar question: Why areyouhere, Waltrip?Benoit knows you pretty well, looks like.You and him friends?”
Waltrip pursed his lips, jaw clenching so tightly I heard his teeth squeak.
I flopped back—carefully—onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.
“Okay.I think I may have found the edge pieces,” I murmured.
Waltrip made a confused sound, and I shook my head.
“They want me to help them here.Think I’ve got some insider knowledge about this virus going around.I told them I didn’t, but I’m starting to think maybe I do.”
Things were sliding together.I just needed some expert opinion on whether or not my conspiracy theory could hold water.
Waltrip reached toward me like he wanted to touch my face.“How hard did you hit your head?”
“Benoit hit me, it wasn’t an accident.”I swatted his hand away.“I need your phone.I have to call Ethan.And…” I trailed off.“Shit.I need to talk to Justin too.This won’t work out if he’s not on board.”Or if he’s spiraling again… Still.But I had a bit of hope he might be distractable, or at least functional, if I told him what I needed help with.
Waltrip’s suspicion game was always on point.It’s what made him a good PI, I’m assuming.“On board forwhat?”
I shook my head.“Everything.”
ChapterEleven
The majority of the people in the infirmary had been at the fair, it came about.I’d had time to kill while Waltrip bent heads with Benoit and pretended I wasn’t there for the time being, so I got to work.
I’d never been able to stay idle long, and now that my edge pieces were slipping together, the need to dosomethingwas almost overwhelming.So, I got up.I triaged my interviewees into groups—most likely to talk, unlikely to talk, and can’t talk.The room was so small, it made the number of bedsfeelhuge, but it was really about twelve beds, ten occupied.
