Part 9 (1/2)
”Are you going to be okay?” Stephanie asked him gently, leaning over the back seat so she could get closer to him. Evidently uncomfortably close for Chris.
”I'll be fine. Just...bad memories.”,” The hunter pulled away from her and nodded.
”Sounds like it,” Amara said softly. ”You're sure you don't want us to drop you off somewhere?”
”No. Really.” Christopher shook his head. ”I'll be okay. I just need some air and some time.”
Stephanie nodded and looked back out the window. Time went by in silence, giving her a rather long period to sit and wonder what exactly happened with Christopher. He seemed so very collected and calm. He seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing, and then suddenly, it was all gone. She shook her head and tried not to think about it.
When she saw the blue and red lights flas.h.i.+ng in the distance, she knew they were close. It was like an alarm or a signal for them. Not so much keeping people away by letting them know it was a crime scene as it was a beacon for other people who were forced to get involved.
*I smell blood.' Spirit got up and climbed over Stephanie to stick her head out the window.
”How bad do you think it's going to be?” Stephanie asked her.
*Pretty bad.'
Chapter Fifteen.
Again, Jeremy failed to give the others a real concept of what they were walking into. ”It's the same as the others found,” didn't really being to describe it. Blood was splattered everywhere. It covered the area mixed with thick globs of meat. The smell of the blood and insides hung on the hot summer air. Stephanie gagged on the stench as she got closer to the scene.
”Why do they always find these things in the dark?” she asked as the group crossed the tape barrier and walked past the police. This time they weren't even stopped. The two officers standing at the blockade had seen Amara and Stephanie there more than once. They avoided speaking to her or even knowing her name. The less they knew the better, and Amara couldn't blame them. Sometimes she wished she could be as blissfully ignorant as they got to be.
”I'd guess because the people are being murdered at night,” Chris said lightly, half poking fun at her.
”I'm going to wait here,” Stephanie announced from the barrier. It was just too much for her to take this time.
Amara nodded, she knew Stephanie didn't do well around dead bodies, let alone when that amount of blood and other unmentionables were scattered around. She looked to Spirit who already started to scent the air.
”Why don't you go start sniffing around?” Amara said to Spirit who padded off to try to find a scent. ”And don't eat anything.”
A low growl erupted from the wolf's throat as she ran off, darting between the mix of police officers and Administration officials tensed and startled despite the warning. Then again, when someone says, ”I'm bringing a werewolf,” no one expects the ma.s.sive size. Often, when people mention werewolves one of two images turn up in their mind. Either a wolf standing on hind legs with ma.s.sive claws, or a human who has turned into a normal wolf. A wolf the size of a pony is much less often what one people would find themselves thinking of. Jeremy dodged Spirit as he made his way over to Amara and Christopher.
”Sorry about all the suits. Top Priority means everyone and their mother has to come wandering around the scene. Then again, you had that thing tag along.”
”Don't let her hear you say that, Jeremy,” Amara warned. ”She's a little feisty.”
The group started their walk over to the body, pus.h.i.+ng through the ma.s.s of photographers, police, and FBI look-a-likes. ”By the way, thanks for the vivid warning about what we were coming to see. This is nothing like the other bodies. Are you sure it's even related? Whoever this is was torn to shreds.”
”Not true,” Jeremy said as he walked over to the remaining intact lump of meat. ”Take a closer look. All the same parts are missing. The only real difference is that the person was torn limb from limb and scattered within the surrounding five feet. I'm guessing he or she tried to fight back.”
”That about rules out a werewolf,” Amara said as she slipped her gloves on. ”Who takes on one of those things rather than just running?”
”Apparently someone pretty b.l.o.o.d.y bold,” Chris chimed in. He was a step ahead of Amara. ”Check out the ragged areas where the skin is ripped. Claws. Vampires don't have claws.”
Amara bent down and a puzzled look crossed her face. She touched the torn ends and s.h.i.+vered. When Jeremy said this person was ripped apart he meant it. Amara could only hope the person wasn't still alive when it happened.
”So we're looking for a werewolf then? It doesn't add up.”
”No fur,” Jeremy shrugged. ”Maybe it's just being careful.”
*It's summertime,' Spirit thought to them as she hurried past.
”So?” Amara said, glancing up to her.
*We don't shed so much in the summer. Spring and fall yes, and our coats are thicker in the winter, but in summer it's a bit of a relief. Less fur to be rid of.'
Amara and Chris looked at each other quietly. How had they missed that fact? How had they not realized that werewolves, like most other animals, go through a seasonal cycle?.
”We need to catch whatever this is before anyone else gets killed. It's killed seven victims already. That's seven too many,” Jeremy said, sounding a little more tired than usual.
”Everyone is working on it,” Amara a.s.sured him. ”We're closing in, and it's just a matter of time.”
Suddenly Spirit stopped. She sniffed the ground in a circle, then the air. She walked for about five feet before she lifted her head and looked back to the group. She gave a quick, shrill bark to get their attention *I've got it. I've got the scent.' Spirit shouted to them as she followed the trail back toward the town.
Amara sprinted after her down the street and away from the shocking lights of the police cruisers. She didn't bother to look back for fear of losing sight of the wolf, although if she had really taken time to think on that, she may have slowed down. She might have to work hard to lose sight of Spirit rather than keep up with her. She glanced back only once when she heard Christopher's distant voice shouting for Stephanie to follow them.
They jogged for a few minutes, leaving Amara out of breath and gasping for air before they were back in the city. Spirit paused just at the outskirts. A giant wolf might cause a little bit of a stir, even somewhere as unusual as this place.
Amara took the moment to catch her breath as Christopher and Stephanie caught up. She looked out into the city and for the first time, really took in what was before her. Even at a distance, the metropolis looked busy, even at this early hour. Cars rushed here and there, and an a.s.sortment of people all ready crowded the streets. Maybe getting their first cup of coffee from Starbucks or rus.h.i.+ng in late to work. She was sure some of them were just headed home. Somewhere in that jumble was their killer.
”Let's go.” It was Christopher's short, breathless order that instinctively forced Amara into step.
”What about Spirit?” Stephanie asked as she followed down the embankment toward the city.
*I'm coming,' the wolf said as she shrank down to a smaller size again. It was a magical process to see happen. When a werewolf transformed from human to animal or from animal to human, it was a violent process. The gruesome sounds of crunching bones and ripping flesh would erupt from their body. For most werewolves the pain was enough to knock them out for a short while. More often than not the lycanthrope would, at the very least, be disoriented for a few minutes after s.h.i.+fting.
This was pure magic.
Spirit simply shrank. It was as if she were Alice drinking the potion on the table top. One moment she was gigantic, the next she was the size of a golden retriever. Not every lycanthrope can s.h.i.+ft their size, but when one is born into the bloodline rather than bitten or scratched, it comes with some benefits other than heightened senses and animalistic strength. Some could even change their entire body structure at a simple thought. Of course, they would always be more or less human or more or less wolf, but that would be where the myth of werewolves who stood on their hind legs originated. Somewhere along the line someone found they werewolves could pause mid-s.h.i.+ft and hold the form.
Stephanie still seemed amazed by the power. She watched Spirit closely as they made their way toward the city. The group followed the wolf down the street, and Amara looked around. Something here was strikingly familiar. She didn't spend much time in this area of the city, but something just rang a bell. A very large, loud bell.
”Hey,” Stephanie pointed up at one of the still-glowing signs of a twenty-four hour diner. ”Isn't that the place Steven's friend owns?”
”Yeah, the place with the sweet burgers.” Amara made a face of disgust that reminded Stephanie of someone who just ate a teaspoon of mustard.
*This is where the scent leads.' Spirit paused at an alleyway leading down past The Yellow Sun Diner.
It was still dark and littered with garbage. Large, green dumpsters were pushed against the sides of buildings. A single light flickered on an off as if it weren't sure if it should stay lit with the rising sun.