Murder of Crows

  Plans for new multistory apartment buildings were being tabled in many cities where government officials suddenly had to consider if the land should be used for farming or grazing in order to feed the people already within the city limits. Efforts to lease more land from the terra indigene for new farms or towns had been unsuccessful. And, according to Captain Burke, negotiations to drill new oil wells and gas wells had ended abruptly the day after the attack in Jerzy. So there was no new land for food and no new sources of fuel to heat the houses or supply energy for industries.

  Most likely, the small human settlements within the vast tracts of wild country controlled by the Others were Intuit villages. Most people didn’t know the particulars about the inhabitants of those settlements, but there was plenty of talk about the places themselves. While not as technology deficient as Simple Life communities, they weren’t civilized places to live because they were completely controlled by the terra indigene. No human government whatsoever to speak for the human population!

  The last new human-controlled village had been built more than a hundred years ago. The Others hadn’t given up a single acre of land to humans since then. And now, Monty suspected, angered by the events in Jerzy and the drugs that were harming their own, the terra indigene would pounce on every excuse to rid Thaisia of the two-legged pests. Unfortunately, the human-controlled parts of the world that had the same level of technology as the larger Thaisian cities could barely support their own people and had no surplus for outsiders.

  Sighing, Monty quickly scanned the Lakeside News. The home section had started a series of articles about tub gardens and raised beds for vegetables. He took it as confirmation that, at least for the coming summer, food that couldn’t be grown in the Northeast would be expensive—if it was available at all.

  Nothing to be done about it today, he thought as he set the newspaper aside and dialed Elayne’s phone number. If he timed it right, she and Lizzy should be returning home from temple right about now.

  The phone rang four times before he heard his little girl say, “Borden residence. Who’s calling?”

  He grinned despite the ache in his heart. “Don’t you sound grown up.”

  “Daddy!”

  Lizzy’s squeal eased the ache a little until he heard Elayne saying something in the background followed by a reply that was definitely a male voice.

  “Can I come visit you, Daddy?” Lizzy asked.

  “Of course you can, Lizzy girl,” he replied.

  “Give me the phone,” he heard Elayne say harshly. Then Lizzy, now in the background, saying, “Daddy says I can come and visit.”

  What was he hearing in his daughter’s voice? Unhappiness? Or something closer to desperation? What would make a young girl desperate to get away?

  “What’s going on?” he asked as soon as Elayne came on the phone.

  “Don’t make this harder,” Elayne said, her voice low and fierce. “She’s already being difficult about our summer plans, and thinking she can run off to you anytime she doesn’t get her way isn’t going to help.”

  “Don’t make what harder? What summer plans?” Anger began a slow burn in his chest.

  “It’s none of your concern,” she said, using that dismissive tone of voice she’d been using with him whenever he asked about Lizzy.

  “She’s my daughter, so it is my concern,” Monty replied. “I can’t send the support checks if I don’t know where Lizzy is.”

  “You send them here, as usual, and they will be forwarded.”

  “No, they won’t. I send them to where my daughter is residing or I don’t send them at all.”

  “You want me to take you to court over child support?”

  “If that’s what it takes to get an answer. And then I and a judge and the attorneys will all know about your summer plans.”

  A startled silence. Then Elayne huffed, “It’s not as if I’m doing anything unseemly.”

  Monty said nothing.

  Another huff. And maybe a bit of uneasiness in the sound?

  “I met someone, and our relationship is serious.”

  That was fast, Monty thought. “So he’s living with you and Lizzy? Is that what serious means?”

  “You’re not part of our lives any—”

  “Not part of yours, but I am, and always will be, part of Lizzy’s life,” Monty snapped. “What aren’t you saying, Elayne? Not saying is your specialty—you always try to get people to agree to something by omitting the details that would change an agreement to a refusal.”

  Another silence. “Nicholas is a motivational speaker and very influential in the HFL movement.”

  HFL? Monty pondered the letters for a moment before shock had him clutching the arm of the chair. “Humans First and Last? You kick me out and then take up with someone wearing a target on his back? Do you realize what people spouting Humans First and Last are doing?”

  “They’re the leaders who will help the rest of us get what we deserve,” she replied hotly.

  Did it even occur to her that “what we deserve” could have more than one meaning?

  “Nicholas came all the way from the Cel-Romano Alliance of Nations to give a series of talks here in Toland,” Elayne said, having regained her typical cold dignity. “When he returns to his family’s villa, Lizzy and I will be going with him and will be staying with him at least through the summer.”

  “What’s his full name?” Monty asked.

  An odd pause. “Scratch. Nicholas Scratch. Of course, that’s the alias he uses for his speaking engagements. It’s a necessary precaution since his family name is well-known and he has several relatives who are wealthy as well as influential. As is Nicholas.”

  His anger turned to ash. Anger wouldn’t get him anywhere with her, so he would try to appeal to her own self-interest. “Do you understand what’s going on in Cel-Romano? The food shortages, the rationing? Things are not good over there, Elayne.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Nicholas wouldn’t have invited us if that was the case. You’re just trying to spoil things for me again.”

  The reminder that Elayne didn’t currently have the kind of social clout that should have attracted an influential man from an influential family had him thinking like a cop instead of a father. A woman desperate to climb the social ladder would be an easy mark for a man who didn’t want the expense of living in a hotel for the duration of his speaking engagements. Had Nicholas Scratch come over to Toland at someone’s invitation, or had he crossed the Atlantik in the hopes of making some money? Easy enough to say you come from a wealthy family if no one can verify that fact.

  “Fine,” Monty said. “If you want to go to Cel-Romano with Mr. Scratch, that’s your business. Lizzy can stay here with me until you get back.”

  “I’m not leaving my daughter in a place like Lakeside,” Elayne said. “Besides, you’ll be working all the time. Where could she stay?”

  “I’ll work it out,” Monty insisted.

  A different kind of silence. Then, “There’s nothing to work out. Lizzy and I are going to Cel-Romano with Nicholas. And we might not be coming back to Toland or even Thaisia. I want my daughter to live in a city that doesn’t have shifters and vampires watching her from every corner. Until we can civilize the world, we’ll never truly be able to enjoy civilization.”

  That had to be HFL rhetoric.

  No point continuing to talk to her. Tomorrow he would look for an attorney and see what he would need to do to gain custody of his daughter—or, at the very least, stop Elayne from taking Lizzy to another continent.

  “Take care of yourself, for Lizzy’s sake,” he said.

  “Why would you say that?” she asked.

  “Because, Elayne, if your friend really is trying to stir up the Humans First and Last movement in Toland, there will be shifters and vampires watching his every move and listening to every
thing he says from now on.”

  “You’re just saying that to scare me.”

  “No, I’m saying it because it’s true.”

  He knew he’d unnerved her when she let Lizzy come back on the phone and talk to him for a minute before someone took the receiver from his girl and hung up without speaking.

  He didn’t know what he would do with Lizzy over the summer, but he’d be damned if he let her get on a ship and cross the Atlantik without putting up a fight.

  • • •

  “But why do I have to stay here?” Sam asked, pitching his voice to a whine.

  Simon gritted his teeth and kept walking back to the Wolfgard Complex. Whines sounded a lot more annoying coming from a human form. Especially puppy whines. “You like staying with Elliot because you get to play with the other pups.”

  “But I wanna live with you and Meg!”

  Especially with Meg, Simon acknowledged silently. Now that the novelty of sleeping in a pile of pups had faded, Sam was campaigning hard to go back to living with Simon, who lived next door to Meg in the Green Complex. He wanted to play with his adventure buddy. He wanted to tell her about school. He wanted to do all the things he’d done before Simon began to appreciate the danger puppy clumsiness and enthusiasm could have for both Sam and Meg.

  Wasn’t that the reason he and the pup were taking this walk in human form? So they could talk? So he could explain?

  “Sam.” Simon stopped walking. His sister Daphne had gray eyes, like Elliot. Sam had gray eyes too, but the pup’s eyes made him think more of Meg than Daphne. “This isn’t a good time for you to be staying with me.”

  Sam lowered his eyes. “Is Meg sick again?”

  So much fear in the pup’s voice. Sam had seen his mother die, had watched her bleed out from a gunshot wound. It had taken Meg’s unusual way of thinking to bring the traumatized pup back to them.

  Simon crouched, the act of a caring uncle rather than the dominant wolf. “Meg is fine. But we’ve learned some things about her. Her skin . . .” How to explain Meg’s strange and fragile skin?

  “It smells good,” Sam offered.

  Good, yes. Intriguing because of her not-prey scent, definitely.

  “Yes, it smells good. But it’s easy to hurt her.”

  Sam took a step back, offended. “I wouldn’t hurt Meg!”

  “Not on purpose, no,” Simon agreed. “But even a little scratch is dangerous for her.”

  “But it wasn’t before!”

  “Yes, it was. We just didn’t know how dangerous. That’s what Meg and I are trying to figure out. And there are bad things happening, so I don’t want you staying by yourself. That’s why I want you with the rest of the Wolfgard.”

  A different kind of whine now. Softer. Unhappy. The kind of sound that felt like teeth closing around his heart.

  “Look,” Simon said. “We can’t do it this week, but next Earthday, why don’t you pick out a couple of movies, and I’ll ask Meg to join us for a movie night. All right?”

  “Okay.” A pause. “Can I get new movies?”

  Simon held up two fingers. “Two new movies.”

  The pup would have settled for one, but until a few weeks ago, Sam had been hiding in a cage, afraid of everything. A little indulgence wouldn’t hurt either of them.

  A howl that quickly became a chorus.

  “Come on,” Simon said, heading for the Wolfgard Complex quickly enough that Sam had to run to keep up with him. “It’s time to join the others for a hunt.”

  • • •

  Simon trotted back to the Green Complex. The hunters had brought down a buck and eaten well before howling the Song of Prey to let the rest of the Wolfgard know there was fresh meat. Sam tore into the kill with the same enthusiasm as the other pups, and all the Wolves viewed it as a good sign.

  Having sufficiently socialized with his own kind, Simon felt itchy. He kept thinking about Meg spending Earthday all by herself. Maybe she wanted some solitude. Maybe she had made plans with her human pack that he didn’t know about. Maybe, maybe, maybe didn’t change the simple fact that he wanted to spend some time with his friend now that they were friends again. Besides, Jester had told him that Meg felt nervous about being too alone. Very Wolfish of her, not wanting to be too alone. He approved.

  When he reached his apartment, Simon paused and considered. Human skin or Wolf? Which shape would achieve what he wanted?

  Since that answer was easy, he bounded up the stairs to Meg’s porch, pressed on the doorbell in a way that made it sound like a demented mechanical squirrel, then gave his fur a good shake while he waited.

  Meg opened the door. He gave her a Wolfy grin. When she didn’t invite him in, he studied her face, wishing he could step closer for a good sniff without her slamming the door on his nose.

  She looked embarrassed, uneasy. Since he didn’t understand why she looked that way, he pushed past her, then stopped so he wouldn’t track snow all over her floor.

  “Simon?” Meg finally said as she closed the door. “Why are you here?”

  She was his friend, and he wanted to be with his friend.

  “Do you want something?”

  A towel to dry his feet would be nice.

  She couldn’t communicate the way the terra indigene did, but she must have figured out why he was waiting near the door because she disappeared for a moment and came back with a towel that she put on the floor so he could press his feet against it.

  Must have gotten it from the hamper since it smelled like her.

  He pressed his feet into it a few more times before going over to her sofa and getting comfortable. Okay, she hadn’t actually invited him to come in and get comfy, but she wasn’t screeching for him to get out either.

  Meg stood near the sofa instead of sitting down the way she was supposed to.

  She said, “I know you prefer to stay in Wolf form on Earthday, but maybe you could shift for a few minutes so you can tell me what you want?”

  Oh, no. He was furry, not stupid. The last time he’d shifted from Wolf to human in order to talk to her, she’d gotten all confused and things had gotten strange between them. He wasn’t stepping into that trap again.

  So he just looked at her expectantly.

  “If you could just tell me what you want . . .” Her face colored as she glanced at the small clock on the table and then at the television. “It’s just . . . I watched a television show last Earthday, and the next segment is on in a few minutes.”

  He wasn’t stopping her from turning on the TV. In fact, he liked this idea. She would sit still and pet him.

  He waved the tip of his tail a couple of times to indicate approval.

  Meg sighed, turned on the TV, and selected the channel. Then she sat at one end of the sofa, her cheeks still full of color.

  Once the show started, Simon intended to reposition himself so that he could rest his head on her thigh the way he used to on movie night. Before he could do that, Meg opened a jar full of thick cream that smelled like the soap and shampoo the terra indigene sold in their stores. Propping one foot on her knee, she slathered cream all over that foot, spending extra time on the skin around her toes while she watched the TV show. Then she pulled on a thick sock before doing the same thing to the other foot.

  Feeling a quiver of excitement, Simon thought, Oh. New game!

  • • •

  The first time Simon prodded her thigh with his paw, she ignored him because the story on TV had reached a tense moment. And she ignored the second poke a minute later. But she squealed when a big paw suddenly appeared in front of her face.

  She jerked her head back and yelped, “What?”

  He looked at the jar of cream, then held up his paw again.

  No, he couldn’t mean . . . “You’re kidding.”

  The heroine screamed, pulling Meg’s at
tention back to the story. But she couldn’t see what was happening because that big paw appeared in front of her face again.

  “All right!” Scooping more cream out of the jar, she carefully rubbed it into the pads of one front paw and then the other, massaging the paws longer than she’d intended because she got caught up in the story.

  After she finished the front paws, Simon settled his head on her thigh and closed his eyes.

  “Bad Wolf,” she muttered. As she burrowed her fingers into his fur, she added, “Hope your front end doesn’t go sliding across the floor.”

  His response was a contented sigh.

  • • •

  A slidy game of chase on the apartment’s wood floors might have been fun, but this was very nice too. And he liked how careful she’d been with his paws.

  Simon listened to enough of the story to decide it held no interest for him. In fact, he wasn’t sure it would hold much interest for any kind of male, and if he’d worn his human skin, it would have been hard not to look bored. And that would have made Meg unhappy. But a Wolf could keep her company and snooze while snuggling up much closer than she would have allowed him to do if he looked human. A furry Wolf was a friend. A human-shaped male was a confusion.

  Contentment filled him as he breathed in the scent of her.

  He raised his head and gave her hand a couple of licks—and felt a quiet happiness flow through him as he went back to snoozing.

  Even with the cream on her skin, he really did like the taste of her.

  CHAPTER 12

  Monty figured he was in some kind of trouble when Captain Burke summoned him first thing on Windsday morning. Then he walked in and spotted the fax on the desk before Burke folded his hands over it and gave him a smile that was more fierce than friendly.

  “Nicholas Scratch,” Burke said. “Who is he and why is he of interest to the police?”

  Busted. “I’m not sure he is of interest to the police yet,” Monty replied cautiously.

  “That still leaves the first question. Who is he?”

  While he considered his answer, he remembered that Burke understood that sometimes there wasn’t much of a line between the job and your personal life. “He’s Elayne Borden’s new lover. He’s a man whose identity can’t be confirmed. And he’s the man who is living in the same apartment as my daughter, Lizzy.”