Dawn Reclaimed

Chapter 29

The man needed more options. Sure, studying his target from afar was intriguing. But, he needed more, someway to get up close and personal and do a good bit of killing, soon. The girl's death had been an appetizer, a mere morsel and it wasn't going to keep his belly full for very long. He needed death to fully sate his appetite. Blood was a weakness for his prey. He needed blood. Needed to time the death for its maximum effect. Balance and timing, kill slowly and wait for the scent of blood to draw in his prey.

Eventually, he knew he'd get caught. His luck wouldn't last forever. And he knew deep down in the core of his being. Something about him was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong. He wanted to get caught by the right captor. What other way was there to stop someone like him? Send him to prison? He'd be out in six months. And he'd just keep killing. Keep hunting his prey for as long as it took for justice to finally catch up with him. To get the opportunity to look into the eyes of your executioner, he couldn't imagine a better way to go.

The man sharpened his blades and tucked them away. He loaded a syringe with clear liquid. Knowing exactly how much it took to buy silence and compliance from a victim without stilling the heart and stopping the breathing. He knew where to find bait. He knew how to kill and how to delay the moment till the time of his choosing. Patience, his mind cautioned. His eagerness would make him sloppy and maybe, reckless. But, he couldn't wait any longer. He'd been patient for far too long. He'd studied the Internet and volumes of books. Spent months in preparation for this moment.

Grant met up with the vampires in the far corner of a darkened parking lot. Nearby, a black SUV idled. The vampires' exteriors were cool and aloof, studying him silently with unblinking eyes. Grant mimicked the posture, brisling beneath their removed assessment of him. He didn't trust them any further than they trusted him. But, they had a bigger purpose than resolving trust issues. Tonight, they were going to track a killer. He had nothing to prove to any of the vampires. And that was not his reason for being here. He could give a shit less about the politics between the Guardians and the Sons. He didn't give a damn what anyone thought about him. Perhaps though, it rattled the vampires a bit that they had to rely on him to do what they could not.

He listened intently as the vampires filled him in on the situation. What little information they had gleaned about the killer and his victim was sketchy. The forecast called for rain sometime in the next two days. The rain would wash away what little trail was left. If they were going to track this killer with any measure of success, they had to hurry. Not one to waste time, Grant kicked off his boots and dropped his jeans and boxers down around his ankles. He had no problem getting naked in front of other people. He'd been doing it his entire adult life. He glanced up and met the uncomfortable expressions on the vampires' faces. "What? I don't want to ruin my clothes," he spouted defensively.

Hurriedly, Grant finished stripping. He did it in fast efficient fashion. Full frontal. No way was he turning his back to them. As likewise, they did not turn their backs to him. Tala was right. Vampires didn't handle nudity very well. Grant's lips curled in a smirk. Given what vampires ate and all the dark secrets they gleaned from their prey. Something as natural and simple as a bare ass jangled their fragile sensitivities. He closed his eyes and exhaled. Calling upon his wolf, he surrendered his body to the magic.

Power zinged along his flesh. Smooth bare skin yielded to a lush muddy brown pelt. To Grant the act was as automatic as breathing. He barely registered the pain in his lingering moments of human awareness and consciousness. His bones and muscles crackled and shortened, bending at odd angles to accommodate its alternate form. His mind faded. His spirit drifted between the physical realm and the other world of spirits. No person could be in two places at the same time. And while his wolf had control of their shared body, he took his wolf's place in the spirit world. He maintained some slight glimmer of control and knowledge of the earthen plane. He was with his wolf's spirit to a degree just as the wolf's spirit was always with him.

Carter took a wary step back. No amount of warning could have prepared him for witnessing the transformation from man to wolf for himself. Two beings, sentient individuals, inhabited the same physical body in two completely different forms. He'd seen plenty of natural wolves in his day. But, seeing the wolf emerge from the trembling wrapper of human flesh was both awe inspiring and a little sickening. He was certain that other than his run in with them on the bluffs. He'd never seen a supernatural wolf before.

The animal was huge, twice the size in both height and bulk as a natural wolf. But, that wasn't the most startling part. It was the wolf's golden eyes that were the beast's most alarming feature. The intelligence in them was not that of a natural wolf's. The wolf's eyes had an almost human quality. As if he looked into them long enough and deep enough, he'd catch a glimpse of Grant in them, somewhere. Carter had been warned never to look a spirit wolf in the eye. The wolf was more animal than man in this form and it would be seen as a challenge for dominance. Carter wasn't certain if he could beat the wolf in a fight. And it seemed far wiser not to find out.

The wolf scrambled to his paws and shook off the last lingering traces of his human's scent with a great shake of his massive body. He didn't know where he was. Sometimes, his human gave him control of their shared body in the strangest of places. Grant was there with him in his head. Prompting him on what he needed them to do. The wolf wrinkled his nose, dragging scents in through his wide black nostrils. The city stank and he didn't like the feel of the hard pavement beneath his claws. Curling his lips over his teeth, he blinked at the vampires. He hated this place. The sounds hurt his ears. The pungent scents burned his sensitive nose. This place was not the woods. This was not home.

Grant faded into the background. The wolf had a job to do. Cocking a head to one side, his hearing registered the sound of the city's bounding pulse. His black nose worked the air furiously, smelling scents he couldn't define. Noxious scents that made his stomach churn. The sickening smell of death hung in the air. He stalked toward the vampire and lowered his muzzle to the piece of cloth clutched in the vampire's extended hand. Growling low in his throat, the fur on his hackles raised, he caught the scent. His nails clicked against the pavement as he inched forward, tracking the scent. Locking onto an invisible history of lingering death and blood left behind.

The wolf's nose worked past the scents of the present. Filtered out the smell of exhaust, gasoline, old spilled oil, and humans. His black, leathery, nostrils widened as he caught the scent of death, sweet and cloying. Barking over his shoulders at the vampires he followed the scent. This was the scent that he was here to track, matching the essence of the smell on the cloth. The scent was faint in the undercurrents of air. The scent of recent blood and death stung his sensitive nostrils. Beneath the coppery stench, and the scent of female he'd tracked, was something else. Something dark. Something that made him whimper nervously and Grant pound at the edges of his skull. Evil.

The wolf wandered to the left and then to the right, inhaling deeply. Catching the dark scent on the air, he trotted to the small grassy island meant to give the barren parking lot a touch of nature. The wolf moved gracefully on his paws. Pausing long enough to lift a hind leg to mark the spot. Faster, he trotted as he followed the scent to the door of the darkened bookstore. Standing on his hind feet, his nails scratched at the gate. In there! Grant shouted, although the wolf had no way to make the vampires understand.

Marcus wasn't exactly sure what the wolf was doing. But, it was obvious that the wolf wanted inside the store. And that could easily be arranged. He slid a small, black leather tool kit out of the inside pocket of his jacket and jimmied the lock while Carter took care of the antiquated alarm system. He had been a petty thief in another time and place, and the skill of picking locks sometimes came in handy. He glanced over the dark parking lot and held the door wide. The wolf skimmed past him, snuffling along with his nose pressed to the ground.

The shop was a mix of smells. The scent of ink and books hung in the air. The salty, sweet smell of humans was everywhere. Embedded deep into the short pile of the carpet. The wolf ran his nose along the soft floor until his nose found the scent again. The wolf cared nothing for words or definitions. He only knew what things were called because Grant supplied him with the bits of information. He couldn't talk and wouldn't even if he could. There was enough noise in the world as it was without him adding to it. The female had been here. Recently. And so had Evil. The reek of the dark scent burned his nose. Grant paced restlessly in his head urging him on to do what they needed to do.

Carter hung back at the entrance of the shop. He worried his scent might confuse the wolf. Working with diligent intensity, sniffing along the carpet and the shelves to track their killer. He was still in marvel at the beast sharing Grant's skin. As for Grant, he didn't know the man well enough to form an opinion about him. But, the wolf was a creature of marvel. A thought emerged from the back of Carter's mind and stuck there, in the forefront. Keene and he had formed a clandestine, silent pact about what they would do when they found the killer.

At the time neither one of them had thought about involving the wolves. What would they do if the wolf found the killer first? Carter would not risk his life to defend a man he'd already decided to kill. Keene was too practical to see the necessity of defending a killer as well. Perhaps, it was best, a wiser choice to let the wolf do the job for them. It'd be a far brutal death at the jaws of the wolf, basically torn to shreds, than any death Carter or Keene had planned for the man. Carter knew nothing about the wolves and little about the men who shared their skins. Grant was in that shared body, somewhere. Of that Carter was certain. But, did Grant maintain enough of his senses to carry the guilt of killing a killer?

A bark from the back of the store caught Carter's attention. He jogged to the sound along with Marcus and Sam. The wolf sat on a plush, upholstered chair, panting and flicking his tail. So, the killer had been in the store. He'd sat on the chair. The wolf snorted and hopped down as Carter knelt along with Marcus, Sam, and Keene to smell the upholstery. But, none of them could scent anything but a mix of people who had paused to lounge in the chair and of course, the musky essence of the wolf.

The wolf hated being in the store. Indoors was an awful place worse than outside. He had the scent. The wolf grinned in only a way a wolf could at Grant's chuckle in his mind. Damn, they were good. They didn't like the burn of the traces of Evil trapped in their nostrils. But, they'd managed to do what the vampires could not. He trotted out the open door and planted his nose against the pavement. The thick scent of Evil emulated from a dark crevice between the buildings. Whining, the wolf sat on his haunches staring into the blackness, refusing to wiggle his broad shoulders into such a narrow, confining space. Sometimes, intellect won. Sometimes, instinct did. But, in this instance they both called a truce.

Sam wiggled into the narrow space, holding her breath to fit. Marcus had taken her home and helped her to assimilate her grief. She didn't know the girl. She didn't need to. A life had been lost. Blood spilled senselessly. A girl died for no apparent reason and other than that what else did she need to know? Inspecting the space with her sense of smell, her hands, and her eyes, she found nothing. A dead end. She thanked the Goddess for the wolf and Grant, for them, and their uncanny abilities. The wolf had found something she and the others had not.

They knew something they didn't before. The killer had been in the bookstore and there might be security footage. The problem was he could be anybody. Carter had a rough idea of the killer's body type, height and weight. Knowledge he'd gleaned from the clothing in the dumpster. But, not even that was entirely accurate. Patrick had a possible lead he was checking out. The wolf had a scent, not even Keene, as good as he was, had managed to pin down. But, between all of them, they had a bunch of nothing. Sam tried not to be discouraged. The killer was out there. And they would hunt him down. The bigger question was. Could they manage to do it before he struck again?

The wolf followed the choking, black scent of Evil through the parking lot where the trail suddenly ended. Confused he retraced the faint trail and circled back. Nothing. Vanished. Frustrated with Grant cursing in his mind, he howled up at the faint sliver of moon, shining down through the glowing orange din of the city sky.

Carter rolled his eyes and held the back door to the SUV open. Whistling and calling to the wolf, he beckoned the animal inside. "Come on boy. Hop in." The wolf sat stubbornly on his haunches, watching him with those eerie golden eyes, refusing to budge.

Sam chuckled. "That isn't going to work. Obviously, Grant has heard about your driving." She refused to think of Grant and his wolf as separate entities. They were just different versions of the same being. She crouched, lowering her body even with the wolf's eyes. Uncertain of exactly how to communicate with a creature of spirit and flesh and blood, she spoke to the wolf in badly broken and butchered ancient tongue. Her brother would be shamed by her lack of proper pronunciation. "Grant, can you come back to us?"

The wolf blinked and rested his muzzle on his wide forepaws. The air crackled and buzzed with raw energy. Releasing his grip on the physical body he dominated. He gave their shared flesh back to Grant. Muscle and bone shifted, lengthening back into its previous form. Fur shed into a heap of soft down and was replaced by a layer of smooth, skin.

Grant felt the hard, cold, surface of the parking lot beneath his body. Shifting from wolf to human was a confusing and painful experience. Disoriented, he lay on his belly. Struggling to reassemble the random images his wolf provided to fill in the blank spaces of time he'd lost into something that made more sense to his logical human brain. Without his wolf pelt, the night air, even for early summer, was damn cold. The chill finally gave him enough inspiration to move his ass. Shivering, he snatched his clothes from Sam's hands. "Did we find anything?" he asked. His voice was gruff and coarse, gravelly from the shift. He pulled on his jeans and t-shirt, tucking the boxers into his hip pocket and carrying his boots as he padded across the pavement barefoot. He sank into the backseat of the SUV, soaking in the luxurious comfort of leather seats and the warmth provided by the heater.

"You were great! Marcus and Carter are on the phone. Following up on some of the leads you gave us. We think we have a way to figure out who the killer is. We know how he stalked his victim now and how he got away, thanks to you." Sam was just a little too enthusiastic. Smiling widely at him through the thin disguise of her half-truths. His wolf might have found something. But, it hadn't been enough to track a killer. He took the bottle of water she thrust into his hands and drank deeply.

"Nothing solid though," Grant summarized. Saving her the trouble of lying to him again. Working all day, spending his evening with his family and Claire, the drive here, and then the shift, had taken a lot more out of him than he'd realized. He was half dressed. His jeans not even buttoned or zipped and his boxers tucked into his hip pocket. And all he could do was think of how nice it'd be to curl up and take a nap. He stretched over the front seat and switched off the heater and settled back into the backseat. He'd kill for a cup of coffee right now, nothing fancy, just hot and black.

"Goddamn it!" Marcus slapped his cell phone closed. "The store doesn't use security cameras. Owned by an individual. Toby could find on records on file. He's checking the mall to see if there's some security footage he can hack into."

"So we're back to square one," Carter mumbled.

"Pretty much."

Carter ran a hand through his blond tangles in frustration. "Shit. Let's go check out the parking garage before the night is done. Maybe, the wolf will find something there."

Grant lounged in the back seat while the vampires chattered. There was nothing to be found in the parking garage. Nothing. The trail was too old and faded for his wolf to scent anything useful. He tried to mask his fatigue from the vampires. The SUV's blazing heaters wouldn't bother them. After his second shift for the night, he was freezing. And the cabin of the SUV was stifling hot. He bounced between sweating from the heat and shivering from the cold settling into his bones. Too hot, eager for a breath of fresh, cool, night air, he fumbled with the controls and rolled down his window. Resting his temple on the blunt edge of the frame, as the city passed him by.

Keene occupied the seat beside him, watching him with a wary eye. And right now, Grant could care less. He was the vulnerable one here. Far more so than what he pretended to be. There was about an hour before dawn, just enough time for him to make the drive home, shower and change before work. He'd rather spend the day sweating at the sawmill than spend it here with the vampires. He couldn't wait to get home, to the solace of the woods and to the comfort of Claire's arms.

Keene kept his mouth shut. Grant sat in the seat beside him. Pinned as closely to the door and as far away from him as he could get. Grant didn't like him. Keene got it. And he didn't necessarily take Grant's apparent distain personally. The truth was, he hoped Grant didn't take his lack of friendliness personally either. The wolf had done them a great service tonight. Even though Keene doubted Grant actually believed it. Toby was back at the compound busily tracking down the security companies the mall and the parking garage employed. If there were any footage available, Toby would find it. And they would have their lead.

The whore stared up at him with vacant eyes. She'd been easier than he expected. Already stoned out of her head, getting close enough to stab the needle through her cheap satin jacket and depress the plunger was child's play. Dragging her bony, diseased ass into a dark alley, simple. He studied her intently. Artificially colored, orange- blonde hair hung in dirty, tangled, ringlets around her skeletal shoulders. Her eyes told the story of a world, long since gone sour.

Killing her would be doing the community a service and her, a favor. But, he was not the type to grant wishes. She was dead already. If he didn't have plans to kill her, somebody else or something else would. The whore didn't even flinch when he slid the blade up her track marked forearm. Her blood flowed from the wound in a dark stream onto the cold pavement. Sluggishly pumping from the artery in time with her heartbeat.

The man wanted to kill her. Finish her off. Add one more notch to his belt. But, he had something bigger in mind. Better prey. She was just bait. Nothing more than a worm that dangled from a silver barbed hook. He added a matching gash to her other forearm. Sliding a finger along the hot, feverish skin of her neck as the blood trickled down her arms, he felt a pulse. "Fuck!" He spat out the curse and stomped his feet like a petulant child denied a treat. Dead! How in the hell could she be dead? He hadn't cut her that deeply. Hadn't given her all of the contents in the syringe. Where did he go wrong? "What the fuck?"