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“You need to stay outside unless I call you.”
“What? No!” The driver-side door slammed so hard it banged like a shot through the night. Good thing Mr. Smythewhite was busy picking the lock on the house’s back door and appeared not to have heard.
Still, we had very little time left for this discussion. How long would it take to track down whichever victim had been chosen? Was there a ritual that needed to be performed to channel death energy through Bastion’s pelt?
I couldn’t be sure. So I could only assume that we had no time left to lose.
“Yes.” I reached up to grab Slim’s shoulders before he could hare off after our suspect. Then I channeled Grace and went directly for Slim’s weakest spot. “This isn’t just any case. Bastion’s life depends on it.”
Slim’s eyes fell. He scuffed the toe of one shoe against the pavement. “I know.” His voice was subdued. “But I want to help....”
Between Luke’s attempt at managing the situation and Slim’s current behavior, all I could think was: Save me from men and their hero complexes.
Aloud, I kept my tone more cordial. “And you will help. You said you have a personal contact at the police station. Have their number ready. I’ll let you know when to call. In the meantime, make sure nobody comes out and drives away.”
This wasn’t exactly a make-work job either. Although not as large as the Smythewhite residence, the house before us boasted multiple doors and dozens of windows. In fact, I intended to use one of the latter for my own entrance....
“Okay, but...” Slim was still talking when I lit off after Mr. Smythewhite. But his voice had faded by the time I veered left and out of sight.
The east wall of the home was stone, impenetrable. But the windows were breakable. And one didn’t even need to be broken. All I had to do was shove in the screen and hoist myself inside.
Rolling onto a deep-pile carpet, I lay still for a moment and listened to the heartbeat of the residence. Closest and most obvious was the tap of hard-soled shoes against tiles. They came closer, closer...then continued down the hall without pausing.
The rustle-thud of my entrance hadn’t alerted my prey.
On the other hand, I couldn’t continue counting on luck to shield me. Not when Bastion’s pelt might enhance its possessor’s hearing while also boosting his speed and stamina. Which meant....
I stripped right there in the library, discarding my clothes into a heap then wrapping my pelt across my back and underneath my arms. It was time to fight fire with fire. The necessity of keeping my woelfin nature hidden meant nothing when hunting the stealer of my family’s skins.
The transformation took only a moment. But by the time I straightened, ears perked to discover which direction Mr. Smythewhite had gone in, new footfalls had emerged from the direction of the back door.
I wanted to believe the murderer had forgotten something near his entrance point. But these shoes squeaked like sneakers while my flared nostrils caught the astringent bite of manly perfume. The combination pointed in one direction only—to Slim.
A flashlight bounced off the open door and into my eyes. But these footsteps, like the others, didn’t hesitate.
I sighed. My temporary partner had ignored my orders and come in after me. And, from a woelfin standpoint, he wasn’t even being stealthy about it.
This takedown was now twice as complicated as it had originally been.
***
I GLANCED BACK AT MY clothes and the weapons piled atop them. Debated for one split second only, then accepted that I’d already made my choice.
If Slim saw me in wolf skin, so be it. What mattered was finding Bastion’s pelt.
Lupine eyes made that task easier. Lupine paws were silent as I slipped out of the library and into the hall.
The flashlight veered left and right, and I pressed myself into an indentation that housed a statue until the beam retreated. Then, skimming the shadows, I traveled far faster than Slim could along Mr. Smythewhite’s scent path.
Our murderer knew this house. Either that or his eyes were lupine sensitive. Because I’d seen no flicker of a flashlight until Slim disregarded my orders, yet the scent of shoe polish led directly down the hall and up the stairs.
At the top, I paused as the murmur of a female voice danced toward me. A male voice chuckled. The musk of mutual attraction lay slick upon my tongue.
Mr. Smythewhite was about to interrupt a couple enjoying a night at home...or was he?
Because the second-floor hallway was empty. No one lingered here, preparing to murder the inhabitants. Instead, the trail I’d been following led directly to the closed door behind which voices tasted and teased.
I could only assume Mr. Smythewhite was inside already. I backpedaled, whining despite myself.
In my mind’s eye, I replayed how easily he’d entered the residence. Had he actually picked the lock, or had he possessed a key?
Mr. Smythewhite had strode through dark halls as if he owned the place. And, now, a resident had willingly welcomed him in.
At least she sounded willing. The wet click of sucking was followed by a feminine moan of pleasure. I danced back another meter, trying to decide whether to stay or to go.
Was it possible that Mr. Smythewhite planned to get some nookie then kill the woman he was pleasuring so expertly? Possible but unlikely. Especially since I smelled no fur other than my own in this household. Sensed nothing to suggest Bastion’s pelt was on the premises or had ever been here.
Which meant Mr. Smythewhite planned to hunt later and elsewhere. He wouldn’t, though, if he knew we were tailing him now....
I leapt stairs three at a time on the way down, coming so close to Slim at the bottom that my tail grazed his pants leg. Luckily, he was peering in the opposite direction, so I made it back to the library without being seen.
Skin off. Clothes on. The process was infuriatingly slow this evening. My pelt clung to my back, not wanting to end our run prematurely.
“I know Bastion needs more wolf energy. But if we find his pelt, it won’t matter.”
And now I was arguing with myself. Still, it worked.
The fur popped free, and I immediately began yanking on clothes, stuffing underwear and socks into pockets. There wasn’t time to belt on weapons’ harnesses, so I tucked the stun gun and dagger under my left armpit, held the pistol in my right hand.
“Slim, it’s time to go.”
I wasn’t particularly concerned about speaking loudly now that I understood Mr. Smythewhite was otherwise occupied. From the sound of things as I’d sprinted for my clothes, matters upstairs were progressing rapidly. I could have yelled my order and the pair of them were unlikely to hear.
So, when Slim didn’t answer the first time, I raised my voice. “Slim, I mean it. I know you’re in here. Get your butt....”
From upstairs came an ear-piercing female scream.