I tracked the unexpected scent I had caught just before the firing started, to the khaki-clad guy. Over the damage to my ears, I heard sirens and Andromeda cursing as she spotted the bullet hole damage to the walls and the jewelry cases. Scowling, she took in the damage to one cabinet: the wood that had once been beautifully carved, swans with long necks intertwined, and the antique glass, which was now all over the floor. She cursed long and hard at the damage. I took her weapon from her and set it with mine on the counter. Texted a fast911to Bruiser. Then,Shots fired. Am OK. Cops on way. Call lawyer.I added the address.
I got back,There in 22.
Twenty seconds later, Bruiser sprinted to the front of the shop and stopped. He was breathing hard, eyes wide and determined. He had been ten minutes away when this all started. He got here a lot faster, on foot, running. He opened the door, needing to see me, his scent washing into the room, over the smell of weapons fire, full of fear. I smiled at him and said, “I’m not hit.”
He let a harsh breath go, gave me a nod, and let the door close. George Dumas, elegant and urbane, no longer out of breath or terrified, was standing there with his cell phone to his ear, talking, when the cops pulled up. Therewas something disarming about the appearance of the local celebrity, casually talking on the phone, and I could see the cops instantly decompress, though they came at him with weapons drawn. Bruiser held his arms in the air, and though my ears weren’t healed, I could make out the soothing timbre of his voice. It was pacifying. Calming. In control of himself and everything around him.
The cops nodded, entered. Andromeda and I were standing with our hands up. The cops took in the three guys, looked at us, and looked back at the three guys. The one on the right was still breathing. “Jane Yellowrock?” the older cop asked.
“Yep.” I pointed with one finger to the breathing guy. “Be careful. That one is werewolf. They can bite when they’re in pain.”
The cops shuffled back through the opening, though to give them credit, they did keep the door open.
“Werewolf?” Andromeda squeaked. And then she laughed, sounding half-hysterical, saying, “There wolf.” When I didn’t respond she added, “Movie quote.”
I grunted. The guy on the floor was making strange puppy sounds and hair was starting to sprout on his hands and face. Reddish hair. And he was the only one of the attackers not wearing a navy gang jacket. Interestinger and interestinger.
“What are we supposed to do?” the cop holding the door asked.
“Get us out, seal the place up, and... Well, crap.” I huffed in annoyance. “And call PsyLED. They have agents in town. I can give you the numbers of two of them.”
The cops didn’t ask for the numbers. They were still freaked at the idea of a were.
Bruiser reentered. His nostrils widened at the stench of werewolf blood; Onorios have better-than-human sense of smell, but he hadn’t caught it the first time. His eyes searched me for signs of bite marks or torn flesh. I gave him a thumb up to let him know I hadn’t been bitten. To the cops he said, “Medic is caught in traffic. If you can clear the street they can get in to help that one.”
“We need a werewolf cage,” I said again.
Bruiser frowned and punched in a number. “PsyLED has portable cages.”
“If you have silver ammo,” I said to the cop, “now’s the time for it. If he gets shifted and is still in pain”—I glanced at Andromeda and half-joked—“things’ll get messy.”
Andromeda laughed, the sound only slightly panicked now that the shooting was over. “Call me Andy.”
“Jane.”
“I can’t shoot a suspect on the ground,” the cop said.
“You can if he’s a menace to the public.”
The cop looked at the wolf, at his partner, at me. “You shoot him.”
“Not my job once the cops are here. I’d stake him if he was a vamp and a menace to the public, but not a furball. He’s all yours.”
The guy on the ground started growling. He must have had strong feelings about the direction of the conversation. More hair sprouted. The cop cursed under his breath and changed out mags while calling his supervisor.
After that it was disorganized organization, with the cops putting a round in the were’s knee to keep him in a partial shift and out of action. The wolfman was seriously ticked off about being shot again. The local LEOs took our weapons. All of them. Even the stakes.
And my adrenaline dissipated enough for me to realize two humans had attacked me and now they were dead. Twenty-somethings, not children. Violent and ready to kidnap or kill me, or some violent combo of the two. But still. Humans. There was a time when killing humans would have broken my heart, sent me into depression. But there are just so many times one’s heart can be broken before it hardens in some sad, fragmented, disarranged formation, where it doesn’t work right anymore. I felt almost nothing and I was more sad about that than I was about killing the gangbangers.
Unconcerned, Beast thought,Jane is war woman. I/we are Beast. Killed enemy.
All the last of the battle energy drained out of me. I sat on a stool perched in the corner, sick to my stomach.
Rick walked in the door, his cat scent sending thedoggy on the floor into spasms of fury. He flashed his badge and ID, then glared and pointed a finger at me. “We need to talk about my new housecat.” I nodded once. To the cops he continued, “This is a PsyLED investigation. I’ll take over as OIC until my superior arrives.”
OICwas “officer in charge.” I started to relax when the cop who had reshot the furball said, “Sorry. Gang Task Force is here. They have jurisdiction.”
Rick frowned. The cop grinned. He clearly found it amusing that the meddlesome bureaucrat-cop in street clothes was not going to get his way. And then Ayatas walked in with a portly man in a suit, and the cop’s amusement faded away. “LaFleur,” Ayatas said, “this is Gomez, GTF. He’s been tracking the local gangs for two years.” Rick and Gomez shook hands. Ayatas glanced at me and Andromeda but didn’t acknowledge us. His hair was braided back and hung down the center of his spine. “GTF’s had reports of strangers running with the Zips.”
