Smilodon, page 12
The ranger whipped her phone out of her pocket like a professional Old West gunslinger.
Now, Hauser’s poker face shifted to a glare. “If you take that picture, I will confiscate your phone and request a warrant to seize any cloud storage you may have. I appreciate your help thus far, but I think it’s best for all concerned if you and your fellow ranger maintain position at the entrance to the parking lot.”
The rangers almost stared at Hauser for several moments before they meandered over to stand a few steps beyond the entrance to the parking lot. They whispered among themselves, and every so often, they’d cast wary looks toward us over their shoulders. From what my shifter hearing could glean, they were whispering about what those big paw prints meant and what they should do about them. For their sake, I sincerely hoped they decided to do nothing; I know I didn’t want to run afoul of anyone with the title ‘Special Agent’ in front of their name.
The sudden absence of Vicki’s whispered chanting drew my attention, and I turned just in time to see her dunk the arrow to which she’d tied the twine earlier into the larger specimen jar I’d filled with water. She whispered more words I didn’t understand, and there was a brief flash of light and a small poof of smoke. She lifted the arrow out of the liquid mixture and eyed the metal with an appraising expression.
The arrow began spinning and soon settled on pointing toward something a few ticks east from due north. Vicki stood and walked in a circle, but regardless of the direction she faced, the arrow still pointed in the same direction.
“Agent Hauser?” Vicki called.
Hauser spun, and Vicki pointed to the arrow dangling from the twine. Hauser’s eyes widened just a moment, then gleamed as she broke into a smile. “Does that mean what I think it does?”
Vicki shrugged. “I don’t know what you think it means, but it’s pointing to the owner of those hair strands.”
“How long will it last?” Hauser asked.
“Uhm, maybe an hour? I’m not really sure, honestly, but it’s renewable. If the effect fades, I’ll just dunk it in the solution again and repeat the spell.”
Hauser nodded and sighed. “Now, we just have to wait for the rest of the team to arrive. Damn. I didn’t ask them to bring our vehicles, and they couldn’t have brought yours anyway.”
“It’s fine,” Gabrielle remarked. “Buddy and I can run back and bring vehicles.”
“Unless you know a shortcut to get here,” I said, “you’ll probably have to follow the same path as the crime scene people, which means an hour. Maybe more.”
“Fine, then,” Gabrielle replied. “You’ll come too. We’ll strap the duffle to your cat. Now that I’m thinking about it, I doubt my cat or Buddy’s wolf are large enough for it.”
She, Buddy, and Karleen led me over to the underbrush that would hide us from the park rangers. Buddy and Gabrielle stripped again and shifted. Karleen and I gathered their clothes into my duffle, and then, Karleen did the same for me after I stripped and shifted.
For what seemed to be the longest time, Karleen just stood there staring at me. Her expression flitted through awe, admiration, and a few other emotions I couldn’t identify. In fact, it took a growl from Gabrielle to break her focus enough that she gathered my clothes into the duffle and helped me step through the shoulder strap, then clicked the waist strap into place and snugged it tight to keep the duffle from flopping around as I ran.
Gabrielle chuffed her approval—at least I think it was approval—and darted off down the hill. Buddy was quick to follow.
Both the black cat and the dire wolf would be fine additions to the pride, the growly voice in my head remarked. It was the first time I’d heard it in a while.
Where is this ‘pride’ stuff coming from? I don’t need a pride, and besides, I can’t even get a girlfriend.
It felt like the growly voice scoffed at that thought but made no reply otherwise.
12
When we arrived at our vehicles, a woman in black tactical clothes—cargo pants, shirt, boots, the works—strode up to us. She was tall and willowy, and I felt like I should double-check that she even cast a shadow. She wore her straight dark hair in a tight bun and projected an air of barely contained pugnaciousness.
“You Magnusson?” she asked.
I glanced to Gabrielle and Buddy, both of whom shrugged, before turning back to her. “Who’s asking?”
She pulled a folio out of a pocket and opened it one-handed to reveal a badge and photo ID. “Special Agent Edwina Burke. Hauser said you’d lead me to her.”
I so wanted to ask how she came to be named Edwina in the twenty-first century, but she probably had enough childhood trauma from her name that I didn’t need to add to it. In the end, I shrugged. “Okay. Follow us.”
“Nah. I’m not exactly the trusting sort. You ride shotgun with me, and they can follow.”
I wondered if she realized just how much danger she’d be in if I was indeed hostile, but I didn’t want to make a scene. Besides, I couldn’t help but feel that would just be dirty pool.
“Okay,” I replied, adding an indifferent shrug for flavor. As she led me over to a government-issue SUV, I asked, “Are you a cat person?”
She froze mid-step and gave me a confused glare. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Hopefully, you won’t have to find out.” I said no more about it, opening the passenger door instead and climbing inside.
Burke walked around the SUV and climbed behind the wheel. She maneuvered the massive vehicle like an expert, and soon, we led Gabrielle and Buddy out of the cul de sac.
* * *
As we went, I directed her to take the backroads that connected most of the trailheads in the state, if you knew the proper turns to make. No stop signs. No traffic lights. No idiot drivers. I figured this route would cut off at least a third of the travel time back to Mercy’s Peak, but secretly, I hoped for half or better. Agent Burke passed the trip in silence, and I never once saw any expression other than a vague scowl. Hauser was very expressive, especially when she found out I was a Smilodon. So, what was Burke’s problem?
“So what is it?” I asked after enduring the silent scowl as long as I could. “Are you constipated? Is it a bad day for you? Did a pet shit in your shoes? Oh… and take the next right.”
Burke slowed to take the turn and glanced at me, adding a frown to the scowl. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, you’ve been scowling since the first time I laid eyes on you, and I’m just trying to figure out what the deal is.”
“You don’t think missing children are scowl-worthy?”
“I think missing kids are more than scowl-worthy, but I can’t afford to let it affect my overall outlook. If I let myself get mad, I’m sure no one would enjoy the aftermath.”
Burke heaved a sigh. “Fine. I don’t like that we’ve resorted to outside contractors. You people have no place in law enforcement and, more often than not, create more problems than you solve.”
Ah, so that’s it. “Was that Schumacher’s problem, too? He was an ass the whole time he was around us.”
Burke snorted. “No. Schumacher believes in werewolves and all that paranormal or supernatural nonsense. He swears they’re real and should be caged like the wild animals they are.”
“Oh, a bigot then. That’s nice.”
This stretch of road was straight enough that Burke could afford to give me A Look without endangering us too much. “You don’t seriously believe that crap, too, do you? Magic and wizards? Werewolves and werecats?”
I wasn’t sure whether I should educate her or not, and it certainly begged the question of why Hauser requested her to replace Schumacher if she hadn’t been clued in about shifters and Magi. Agent Burke was in for an awakening; only time would tell whether it was rude or pleasant.
When we rolled into the trailhead’s parking lot, it looked like we weren’t too far behind the crime scene guys and extra officers who secured the scene while the CSAs worked. I noticed all the extraneous vehicles were gone, and I guessed the rangers went up the trail collecting hikers and asking them to leave.
I saw Hauser chatting with one of the crime scene types as we rolled into the parking lot, and she now wore attire almost exactly like Burke. Black cargo pants. Black pull-over shirt. Black tactical boots. She saw us arrive and ended her conversation to head our way.
“Thanks for collecting my wayward agent,” Hauser said as she approached. “Now that the crime scene people are here, we’re free to head out.”
Gabrielle and Buddy arrived at my side just then, and I didn’t see how proceeding with Burke still in the dark could be good at all. No part of me believed whoever took the children would simply hand them over at our polite request, and Burke would become a major liability if she learned shifters and Magi were real in the middle of a firefight. Nothing for it, then…
“Agent Hauser,” I said, “before we do that, I think someone needs to bring Burke up to speed on a couple things.”
At first, confusion dominated her expression. Then, Hauser glanced at the three of us—shifters all—and my sister—the Magi liaison, and understanding dawned. “Oh. Right. We’re too exposed here, and she’ll want proof.” She looked around until she found the rangers. “Where’s your ranger station?”
“At the bottom of the hill,” one of them replied.
“That’ll do.” Hauser remarked, nodding once.
* * *
Ten minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of the local ranger station. It was tiny. Maybe fifteen hundred square feet total. The rangers pulled in behind us, and Hauser was quick to intercept them.
“I need to commandeer your ranger station for a few minutes. One of you, come with me to help speed things along. The other can wait out here to be joined shortly by your associates.”
“What associates?” one of the rangers asked. “We’re it for this station.”
“Perfect, then. Stay at the far end of the parking lot until we come back.” With that, Hauser turned and almost marched into the building. “Burke, Wyatt, Vicki… with me.”
I was surprised that the rangers left their station unlocked when they’d come up the hill, but maybe there wasn’t enough traffic around here that they felt the need to lock it. A main room that seemed to be both a reception area and office dominated the building, but a separate office and full bathroom with a shower occupied a third of the space. Hauser walked straight to the desk, spun, and leaned against it. She waited for me to close the door behind us, then ripped off the bandage.
“Burke, they’re not called werewolves or werecats or were-whatever. Under the terms of the treaty they have with our government, the proper term is ‘shifter.’ And magic is real, too. Vicki, here, is heiress to one of the most prestigious and powerful Magi families the world has ever known.”
Burke looked at Hauser like the senior agent was off her meds. Before she could verbally respond, though, my sister took a step closer and asked, “Agent Burke, do you smoke?”
Burke glowered at Vicki for interrupting but still answered. “Yes, but I’m trying to quit. Why?”
Vicki lifted her right hand and snapped her fingers to distract Burke from the word she whispered, and a tiny flame—about the size of a lighter’s flame—winked into existence and danced on the tip of her index finger. My sister was just irreverent enough that she didn’t bother to rein in her smirk. “Need a light?”
Sweat beaded on Burke’s forehead. Her breathing became short and ragged, almost gasps, and she stared at the tiny flame on my sister’s fingertip as if she couldn’t look away.
“Wyatt,” Hauser said, “your turn, I think.”
I fought the urge to sigh. I wasn’t sure Burke could handle any further shock to her system, but Hauser’s expression didn’t give me much choice. Besides, she hadn’t been all that secretive about wanting to see me in my feline form. I crossed to the separate office and stepped inside, pushing the door most of the way closed but not latching it. Stripping to shift was almost old hat at this point, and I made short work of it. I turned to face the door, because the office wasn’t exactly spacious, and touched the part of my mind that hadn’t been human since I woke up in the Precious infirmary.
The shift felt smoother this time. Maybe it was easier the more times I did it? Either way, we had a job to do, and we’d spent too much time already on Agent Burke. I hooked a claw on the door to pull it open and padded back into the main office. Hauser looked like a child faced with a mound of presents when she saw me, but Burke still stared at the flame dancing on my sister’s fingertip.
I couldn’t ignore my enhanced senses in my feline form like I could when I was human, and Burke’s rapid heartbeat sounded like a steady, fast-paced stream of waterdrops on tin to my ears. She approached full-blown tachycardia. My reluctance to be a part of this erupted, but before I could slink back into the office, Hauser touched Burke’s shoulder and nodded toward me.
Burke seemed to exert willpower to look away from the flame, and Vicki dismissed it as soon as she did. She turned and dropped her eyes, though not too far as my jaw was the same level as her belt; my curved incisors reached almost halfway to her knees. Her heartbeat became a machine gun to my ears... and she promptly collapsed. Eyes rolled back in her head, the whole bit. Elvis definitely left the building.
Vicki caught her with a cushion of air before Burke could bounce her head off the concrete floor and directed a glare at Hauser. “Wasn’t that a bit irresponsible, Agent Hauser? What if I hadn’t been here to catch her? You could’ve caused her some serious harm with this little stunt of yours.”
“She would have argued with us until our ears bled from listening to her otherwise. Besides, it’s how they read me in on the situation, and I turned out okay. Mostly.”
I let the ladies argue while I padded back into the separate office to shift back and get dressed. I returned and added my two cents. “You couldn’t hear her heartbeat, Hauser; I could. You risked her life with this.”
“What’s her heartrate like now?” Hauser asked.
I closed my eyes and focused. Then leaned closer. “It’s still rapid, but it’s slowing. Not as bad as it was.”
“All right. Do you mind carrying her to the SUV? It’s time we gave the station back to the rangers.”
Part of me couldn’t believe how callous she was about all this, but I guess it wasn’t my problem in the long run. I knelt long enough to scoop Burke into my arms, and Vicki helped me with the doors. Hauser stood beside the open back door by the time I arrived, and I took extra care as I laid Burke in the back seat. I made a pillow out of a handy jacket and backed away. Hauser closed the door, and Burke didn’t stir at all.
“Let’s go, people!” Hauser shouted as she opened the SUV’s driver door and stepped up on the running board. “The vehicle with Vicki leads.”
Vicki and I hopped into Gabrielle’s Jeep, and off we went.
* * *
As she drove, Gabrielle kept glancing at the arrow, which Vicki held high for maximum visibility and freedom of movement. I wondered how long she could hold it like that. Turned out, it wasn’t long. Maybe five miles down the road, Vicki tied the other end of the twine that held the metal arrow to the rear-view mirror and let her arm fall to her side.
Our trip was the most zigzag, inefficient travel I’m sure three vehicles ever took. Whenever possible, Gabrielle followed a path that kept the arrow pointing straight ahead. When that wasn’t possible, she made the best compromise she could. More than once, we had to stop and turn around to find a better route.
We spent over three hours following that arrow’s direction. It led us to a run-down, decommissioned industrial site situated on the south bank of a major river that flowed west to the Pacific. A rusted, patchy fence-line surrounded the facility about five hundred yards from the actual site, and the remains of a security gate before them held a (mostly) legible but very weather-beaten sign that read, ‘Industrial Steel & Fabrication, Inc. Est. 1953.’
We backed our vehicles far enough away that anyone roaming around the facility wouldn’t see us standing at the fence-line. Most of us had been sitting so long we took the opportunity to stand up and stretch our legs. As soon as I left the confines of the Jeep for the bright, sunny afternoon, I became aware of a shouting match that seemed to be happening in the agents’ SUV. My shifter hearing picked up enough of the exchange to tell that Burke didn’t appreciate Hauser’s ‘rip off the bandage’ approach to educating her about supernaturals and Magi. Like I didn’t see that coming…
Vicki took a few steps toward the agents, but I held up my hand and shook my head.
“What?” my sister asked.
Karleen and Gabrielle arrived at my side, their eyes locked on the government SUV. Karleen said, “Burke and Hauser are having a ‘Come to Jesus’ talk about Hauser’s methods. You don’t want any part of that.”
The rear passenger door of the SUV abruptly shot open. It happened so fast that I would’ve believed the mechanism was spring-assisted. Burke jumped out and clamped her hand against the doorframe. Aw, crap… if she slammed that door, five hundred yards and change might be close enough for even humans to notice the sound. She looked for all the world like she wanted nothing more than to slam the door so hard it went through the SUV, but her better angels held sway. Burke closed the door with so little force that I barely heard the latch engage. She then turned and stomped toward us, her cheeks and neck flushed, her hands clenching into fists and then unclenching, her expression granite.
Burke stopped about ten feet away from us, and her eyes landed on me. In a heartbeat, her expression softened. She closed the distance until she was close enough that she had to look up to meet my eyes and said, “For the record, I happen to like cats quite a bit. I prefer them over dogs, in fact.”
That said, she pivoted on her heel and strode back to the SUV.
