I blew out a sad, tired breath. “The church doesn’t care about Lost Boys.”
* * *
For a former churchwoman, tech could be trying. Nothing about tech was intuitive. By the time I figured out Jo’s map and tracking screen on my tablet, FireWind was three-quarters of a mile away and I had to hustle to keep him in range. I took side streets that wove in and out of neighborhoods and across major thoroughfares, and still I lost him twice. Both times I extrapolated based on his general direction, asked Jo for advice once, and managed to cross his path again. However, he was headed exactly nowhere in an awkward direction in terms of streets. Until he approached a bridge.
I realized FireWind was tracking Zebulun heading home.
I tapped my mic and asked, “FireWind. Are the boys still together?”
He made the yes sound.
“Are…Are they in human form?”
He made the growl-negative sound.
“They’re in devil dog form, ain’t they?”
He answered yes.
“Are they still being followed by a bunch of vampires?”
He made the affirmative sound again.
“FireWind, I have a feeling they were heading to the church. Being chased by crazy vampires. In the middle of the night.”
He made the low growling sound. I had no idea what it meant in this case, except something bad. I sighed into my mic. “Yeah. I agree.”
Zebulun had gone cross-country toward the church. In devildog form. Vampires were fast. When they ran, they popped air out of the way. How had Zeb stayed ahead of them? Zigging and zagging. Never stopping. He and the other three boys were killing themselves trying to get away.
As I drove, now able to get slightly ahead of FireWind, who was following by scent, I punched a button on my steering wheel and told the system to call Sam.
“Nellie,” Sam said, his voice sounding distant. “Hang on, let me wipe off my hands. I’m greased up to my elbows working on the old horse-drawn plow, replacing the connection rods.”
I heard water running and splashing, and his voice continued in the distance. “We have horses, and we have old equipment that costs less to keep working as long as we can rig parts, and with supply line problems and the cost of fuel, it’s getting cheaper to use the old stuff for a while. Mama Carmel says we’uns ain’t no Mennonites, but I say wearefarmers so we got to find a way to make a living.” His voice came clear again. “What’s up, sister mine.”
“Zebulun has been confirmed as a devil dog. He shifted last night when one of the Lost Boys was taken and killed by vampires at some point in the night. Zeb was heading toward the church. Four-footed. If he hung on until dawn, if the vampires didn’t catch him, he’s likely either still trying to get there, or is on the church grounds, hiding.”
“Nell—”
“He can’t help what he is, Samuel Nicholson,” I said sternly. “Not any more than I can help what I am or Mud or Esther or the twins. And what he is ain’t contagious so there ain’t no reason to shoot to kill. You’uns get your kids to safety and set a trap. And capture him and any of the others who show up in dog form.Alive.You hear me?”
“Nell—”
I hung up on my brother and gunned the motor in an ice-free patch of road. I spoke into the comms system. “FireWind. Did you hear that? I’m heading to the church.”
I heard a chuffing sound as I took the next left. I told FireWind which roads I’d be using to take me to the church. “I’ll need you to tell me where—or if—they crossed over onto the church grounds.”
He chuffed again, and suddenly he was just in front of me.All two-hundred-plus pounds of black wolf standing in the middle of the street.
I slammed on the brakes and skidded on a patch of ice before the tires caught. I opened my door and yelled, “You stupid dog. I coulda hit you’uns!”
FireWind’s head lifted as if he smelled something stinky, his eyes holding me down.
“Ummm. Okay, sorry, boss-boss. You scared the heck outta me.” When he didn’t move, sitting in front of my car as if blocking it, I asked, “You wantin’ a ride? I’m in a hurry. Best make it snappy.”
FireWind’s eyes went squinty, staring me down. He trotted very slowly into the scrub at the side of the road and I pulled over, still breathing too fast in reaction.
I heard a click and LaFleur said over a private channel, “Ingram.” I realized he—and everyone else at HQ and in the field—had been listening in on everything I said.
