Cord nods, catching my eye as he squeezes my hand in warning. “It gets worse.”
He stops at a low desk covered with flyers. I flip one over. A snowball of facts fills blue-bordered squares in tiny snippets. While the information presentedappearscorrect, I doubt a true dire wolf, outside of the one-off, lab-grown version, has been terrorizing the locals. A large, hopeful part of me can’t help but want to spot a mythical, full-grown beast for myself.
The not-so-logical part, that is. A girl has to have dreams.
My hackles rise; the propaganda here matches what I’ve seen online and it’s clear that this man is leading the way—and endangering the wolves that do live here peacefully as a result.
“Welcome to The Hunt. This beast is as bad as what you’ve seen immortalized on film and twice as vicious. Pollux Jenkins, Dire Wolf Expert.” A middle-aged man with glazed eyes greets us, his title pronounced in capitals to emphasize his importance.
A wave of spirits mixed with stale bodily fluids rolls over me. I step back, covering my mouth in a fake cough that I’m sure Cord doesn’t miss, in an attempt to soothe the prickling rage thatsimmers beneath my skin. He seems to sense it, easing a little further into my space.
“Indeed. And you’ve seen this dire wolf?” I try to keep my skepticism under lock and key, but I suspect it slips out into my tone anyway. Not that Pollux appears to notice.
Cord’s hand tightens around mine, though he stares hard at the shorter man hiding behind the cluttered desk between us like he wishes it wasn’t there.
“Only glimpses, I’m afraid. The dire wolf is a very clever creature.” Jenkins’s smile reaches only glassy eyes that match his stuffed animal collection swaying above us on their fishing line strings.
I want to retch all over Cord’s nice boots, but I need him to hold me back before I break some local laws and end up getting myself arrested. It doesn’t take much sense to know that the only thing terrorizing locals in this town is the sleazy man slouching opposite us, and his creepy collection of illegally collected puppet critters. My lips purse as I try and fail to ignore the body odor wafting in our direction whenever Jenkins moves.
“What damage has the animal done?” I congratulate myself on not throttling the man and risk a shallow inhale.
Bad, bad idea.
“Well, it’s taken food, and wandered through some houses, and…” Jenkins trails off with a shrug, his pitiful sales pitch ending in an abrupt death.
I remember Cord’s reaction to my questions about the dire wolf hunt, how his expression had tightened then back at Winnie’s townhouse. “You knew,” I murmur out of the corner of my mouth.
He jerks his head once, enough for an acknowledgment, though his eyes never leave Pollux.
“There’s been chew marks on the walls of buildings, theft of small items, some small livestock.” The Dire Wolf Expert looks mighty pleased with himself at his last item.
“You have evidence that connects the theft?”
Beside me, Cord snorts. I wave him down.
“We have reports and sightings of a gray animal, larger than the usual wolf?—”
My patience frays at his lack of evidence and conviction in his own scam. “You do realize that the dire wolf has been extinct for nearly ten thousand years? If you want to see one, there are displays you can visit. I believe San Diego has a very informative and educational section. Your reports are likely of stray dogs or a lone gray wolf in the area.” I can’t keep the fury out of my tone as I eye the self-labeledexpertbefore us and wonder how many taxidermized animals it will take to suffocate him plus my remaining manners.
“Dire wolf pups were created only recently,” Jenkins protests.
“Yes,pupsbeing the operable word. As part of a scientific study. Not fully matured adults,” I snap.This is why I don’t play well with others.
“Well, I?—”
“I suggest you take down the signs. This kind of fearmongering will only result in a mass cull of non-dangerous animals.” I glance across his display and pull out my phone to take pictures from a few different angles.
“Now, see here. You can’t just walk in here and demand I stop, uh?—”
“Trading? Scamming folk?” Cord asks softly.
Jenkins shuts his mouth.
“Actually, she can. I’m bringing thousands of people to this town in a few weeks, and if I see any of your trash around when I set up, I’ll be calling some friends who frown upon animal cruelty. One wears a little star badge. And there seems to be evidence of your…methods around us.” Cord aims a single finger at the roof.
Jenkins follows his gesture to where a wolf skin stretches across the ceiling directly over the desk. Long, jagged scars feature along its sides. I snap a picture of that, too, along with an unflattering one of Jenkins standing right below it.
My stomach lurches. Cord’s hand grips mine fiercely, though his voice remains calm and under control.At least one of us has our shit together.
