them.
“I can’t believe this creature would do anything in an area this crowded,” I said. “Someone must have seen it.”
Gabriel didn’t look at me. He was intent on following the traces of magic to their source. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. People tend to see only what they want to see.”
The two strip malls faced Ashland, which was a main thoroughfare that ran north-south through the city. A few blocks away was the Lincoln-Belmont-Ashland intersection, a major convergence of traffic and businesses. In between were blocks stuffed with homes and apartments.
Gabriel tracked through the post office parking lot, across another street, and into an alley. We wandered for a few moments, turning left and right, and then I could smell it before I saw it. Burnt cinnamon, and raw meat.
“He’s killed someone again,” I breathed.
We turned to the right at a T-junction and saw the bloody remains scattered all over the alley, just like the last time.
I heard bone crunch underneath my boot and looked down to see the shredded remains of a furred paw.
“Another wolf,” I said, breathing shallowly. “Why is Samiel killing wolves?”
“How do we know it’s Samiel?” Beezle said, sticking his head out of my pocket.
“Are you trying to say that Ramuell might have another unknown child running around somewhere?” I said, as I picked my way carefully among the remains. Gabriel moved silently through the alley, checking as I did for a clue, something that would tell me why these wolves were being targeted.
“It might have nothing to do with Ramuell at all,” Beezle said insistently. “Someone could just be trying to point you in that direction.”
“But why?” I said. “How could anyone know that I would just happen to be nearby two murder sites? Don’t you think it’s a little presumptuous to assume this is all for my benefit? And besides, if this death was planned, a part of the natural order, where is the Agent? Where is the soul?”
“Could have come and gone already,” Beezle said stubbornly.
“Well, it’s easily checked,” I said, thinking I would do just that the next time I was in the office. I crouched down by what appeared to be a pair of jeans covered in blood. There were some pieces of broken plastic embedded in the cloth that might have been bits of a credit card or ID. “But the wolf murders still don’t make sense. I thought the werewolf packs in this area mostly stayed out of the city.”
“And so we do, unless business requires us to be here,” growled a voice from nearby. “Whoever has done this will pay, Agent.”
I looked up to the T-junction and came to my feet. Gabriel was at my side in an instant, his hand on my shoulder.
Two of the biggest men I had ever seen stood just past the T-junction. They both easily cleared six feet, and the one on the right wore only a plain white T-shirt and denim vest over jeans, despite the chill. Everywhere I looked muscles bulged through the cloth. His pale face was covered in a red beard liberally streaked with white, and eerie blue gray eyes watched me with suspicion. I could see the faint traces of long scars that puckered the skin underneath his beard.
The man next to him was African American, just as tall and strong looking, but with a slight paunch and a much friendlier look. He looked like the sort whose natural expression was a smile, despite the obvious grief in his eyes as he surveyed the remains in the alley. He wore square-framed metal glasses and also had a heavy salt-and-pepper beard above a blue StarCraft T-shirt and jeans.
There was a third man with them, hovering a step behind, not quite as muscular or burly as the other two. He was built more along the lines of a long-distance runner. He also seemed younger. He didn’t wear a beard like the other wolves and his dark hair was free of gray. But it was his eyes that attracted my attention. They were silvery blue and burning with anger when he looked at me. I wondered what I’d
“I can’t believe this creature would do anything in an area this crowded,” I said. “Someone must have seen it.”
Gabriel didn’t look at me. He was intent on following the traces of magic to their source. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. People tend to see only what they want to see.”
The two strip malls faced Ashland, which was a main thoroughfare that ran north-south through the city. A few blocks away was the Lincoln-Belmont-Ashland intersection, a major convergence of traffic and businesses. In between were blocks stuffed with homes and apartments.
Gabriel tracked through the post office parking lot, across another street, and into an alley. We wandered for a few moments, turning left and right, and then I could smell it before I saw it. Burnt cinnamon, and raw meat.
“He’s killed someone again,” I breathed.
We turned to the right at a T-junction and saw the bloody remains scattered all over the alley, just like the last time.
I heard bone crunch underneath my boot and looked down to see the shredded remains of a furred paw.
“Another wolf,” I said, breathing shallowly. “Why is Samiel killing wolves?”
“How do we know it’s Samiel?” Beezle said, sticking his head out of my pocket.
“Are you trying to say that Ramuell might have another unknown child running around somewhere?” I said, as I picked my way carefully among the remains. Gabriel moved silently through the alley, checking as I did for a clue, something that would tell me why these wolves were being targeted.
“It might have nothing to do with Ramuell at all,” Beezle said insistently. “Someone could just be trying to point you in that direction.”
“But why?” I said. “How could anyone know that I would just happen to be nearby two murder sites? Don’t you think it’s a little presumptuous to assume this is all for my benefit? And besides, if this death was planned, a part of the natural order, where is the Agent? Where is the soul?”
“Could have come and gone already,” Beezle said stubbornly.
“Well, it’s easily checked,” I said, thinking I would do just that the next time I was in the office. I crouched down by what appeared to be a pair of jeans covered in blood. There were some pieces of broken plastic embedded in the cloth that might have been bits of a credit card or ID. “But the wolf murders still don’t make sense. I thought the werewolf packs in this area mostly stayed out of the city.”
“And so we do, unless business requires us to be here,” growled a voice from nearby. “Whoever has done this will pay, Agent.”
I looked up to the T-junction and came to my feet. Gabriel was at my side in an instant, his hand on my shoulder.
Two of the biggest men I had ever seen stood just past the T-junction. They both easily cleared six feet, and the one on the right wore only a plain white T-shirt and denim vest over jeans, despite the chill. Everywhere I looked muscles bulged through the cloth. His pale face was covered in a red beard liberally streaked with white, and eerie blue gray eyes watched me with suspicion. I could see the faint traces of long scars that puckered the skin underneath his beard.
The man next to him was African American, just as tall and strong looking, but with a slight paunch and a much friendlier look. He looked like the sort whose natural expression was a smile, despite the obvious grief in his eyes as he surveyed the remains in the alley. He wore square-framed metal glasses and also had a heavy salt-and-pepper beard above a blue StarCraft T-shirt and jeans.
There was a third man with them, hovering a step behind, not quite as muscular or burly as the other two. He was built more along the lines of a long-distance runner. He also seemed younger. He didn’t wear a beard like the other wolves and his dark hair was free of gray. But it was his eyes that attracted my attention. They were silvery blue and burning with anger when he looked at me. I wondered what I’d
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