Page 5 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
“The waiting list for whelpedKith is longer than a founding family’s pedigree.” The woman studied Melissa’stransfer papers again, and her lips pursed. “You’re not contracted?”
“No.”
Reaver Barr gave up waitingfor an explanation. “With your lineage, you can’t be lacking for offers.”
Melissa wouldn’t apologize forher decision to prioritize finding a Kith partner over her duty to theIn-between. A husband would only complicate things, and an ill-timed pregnancycould undercut her eligibility if a potential partner became available. Mom andMagda had supported her choice to remain single, even though she’d had to pay ahefty fee on her twenty-third birthday.
“I withdrew my name from theregister.” Melissa quietly stood her ground. “My age, my lineage, and my whereaboutsare currently … undisclosed.”
Courtney didn’t bat an eye.“Good for you, honey.”
“Th-thank you?”
The third sheet of papercrossed the desk. “This is today’s threat advisory. Given the founding principlebehind the Elderbough Initiative—pack is pack, care for your own—Isuspect this is therealreason Naroo-soh Elderbough hustled you outthis way.”
“The rogue.” Melissa nibbledat her lip as she studied the map and its legend. Clusters of red dots spanned threestates without any discernable pattern. “The few reports I’ve seen describe himas opportunistic … vicious … and elusive.”
“Three of the rogue’s most recentattacks have been blamed on werewolves, which is utterly ridiculous. We’ve hadto withdraw more than half of the Elderbough trackers because the sight ofwolves inanycontext sends the public into a panic.” Courtney’sexpression darkened. “Surgeons spent most of last night fighting to save thelives of Kith trackers who ran into the path of a citizen’s patrol. Three scrapedthrough. Two died. Shot by silver bullets.”
THREE
Red Gate Farm
Melissa stole a glance at her phone, confirming thatshe was indeed on the right track … a literal track. Well, notquitethat bad, but she wasn’t accustomed to bumping along gravel roads. Herrelations lived at a place called Red Gate Farm, and a brief phone conversationwith her host had ended with the assurance that she couldn’t miss it.
“Drive until you run out of road, and you’re there,” shemuttered, creeping along.
She wasn’t used to so much green.
Grass carpeted the rolling hills of a pasture on her right,and the trees lining the road created a green tunnel. Very different from sand-skimmedboardwalks and a wide view of the ocean, with the continual rhythm of waves on theirbeach.
Checking her rear-view mirror, Melissa stopped in the roadand put her loaner in park. The faded blue hatchback was already showing a powderycoat of dust from her backroad ramble. She snapped a picture and sent it toMagda, who’d ordered her to stay in touch.
Behold, Middle America!
aka middle of nowhere
A nice place to visit
Don’t stay away too long
No promises
They have wolves
If one wants me, I’m theirs
Lock and load
That was Magda’s way of wishing her luck.
Melissa didn’t bother with her seatbelt as she continuedalong, stones popping under her tires, lazy puffs of dust her only companion onthe road. But beyond the wall of trees on her left, she caught glimpses of anorchard and a white plank fence.
A school bus and a van from a Fletching senior center wereparked beyond red gates flanked by fluttering welcome banners and barrel-sizedpots of geraniums. A big sign announced that it was apple season, withlate-summer varieties listed. Melissa hadn’t even heard of half of them.
She turned in.
Everything was red and white, from the huge barn with GIFTSHOP painted on the side to the tractor hitched to a long wagon. More signspointed the way to pick-your-own apples, cider press, petting zoo, hayrides, farmfresh eggs, and a corn maze opening in October.
