Pocket Apocalypse
Page 73

“I don’t think he’s the original, no,” I said. “Something bit him. Something brought the infection here. Maybe it was a game animal smuggled into the country by someone with more money than sense—that’s how you got the manticore problem, isn’t it? Or maybe it was a person, somebody who got bitten and then came here thinking that there was enough open space for them to disappear and never endanger anyone. Lycanthropy is rare enough that even most victims don’t realize they can infect other mammals. They think that as long as they avoid humans, they’re taking the proper precautions.”
The sheep, and how calm they’d been about the Tanners, made me sure that Cooper was behind the ambushes. Looking into either the folklore around lycanthropy or the scant research that had been published (thinly veiled as explorations of a variant strain of rabies) would have made the spillover connection quickly evident to anyone who knew how to ask the right questions. He’d figured out that animals could be infected, and he’d used that knowledge.
“Still a cryptozoologist, even after changing species,” I murmured.
“What’s that?” asked Shelby.
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “We need to move. I don’t like us being out here on our own.” Between the three of us, we had the silver bullets in my gun and whatever other weapons we happened to be carrying. I knew Shelby had a pistol and several knives, as did I; while I wasn’t sure what Charlotte carried as a matter of course, Shelby had to have received her training somewhere, and I was willing to bet Riley hadn’t been the one to teach his eldest daughter how to hide a pair of brass knuckles in a bra. And none of that would do any good, if it wasn’t silver. Cooper had already shrugged off severe enough blood loss that he’d been pronounced dead, and one of the werewolves that had attacked us both—me sincerely, Cooper as part of whatever double-blind scheme they were trying to pull—had gotten up and walked away after being shot with almost a dozen lead slugs. Silver was the answer. Without it, we were sitting ducks.
“Agreed,” said Charlotte. She turned and walked back toward the house. Shelby and I followed, not letting the space between us stretch to more than a couple of feet. Sending one scout ahead of the group was just asking to be cut off or separated, and we didn’t need that tonight.
Shelby stuck close to me as we made our way back to the guesthouse, which I appreciated very much. I resisted the urge to take her hand, less because I was afraid of showing affection in front of her mother, and more because I needed to keep both my hands free in case of trouble. I should probably have been taking point, but I didn’t think leaving our rear flank unguarded was a good plan. With no ideal options open to us, I was going to stay where I felt like I could do the most good, and that was next to Shelby.
Gabby and Raina were on the porch when we arrived in the yard, talking intently to Chloe. We were too far away to hear what they were saying, but judging by their posture and the sharp, unceasing motion of their hands, it wasn’t anything they were going to repeat with their mother in range. Jett, who had been pressed against Raina’s leg, pushed away from her new mistress and barked once in our direction, announcing our arrival. Gabby and Raina stopped talking as they turned to look at us. Chloe took advantage of the break in their concentration, first stepping back from the two, and then bolting down the porch steps.
It was really too bad for her that Shelby did the bulk of her work with large carnivores, and was accustomed to thinking like a predator. By the time Chloe’s foot hit the pavement Shelby was there, a gun in her hand and a smile on her face. She shoved the muzzle of the former into Chloe’s chest, digging it in with enough force that I knew the thinner woman was going to have a bruise.
“Going somewhere?” asked Shelby.
Raina hopped down the porch steps, coming to a stop behind Chloe. “She wanted us to shoot Dad,” she reported, in a low, dangerous tone. “She came in here to say that if we didn’t do the right thing on our own, she’d go to the Society and get them to order us to do the right thing.”
Shelby looked horrified. “What about the quarantine period?” she demanded. “We’ve had people locked up in there for days!”
“He proves that you don’t think the rules apply to you and your family,” said Chloe, stabbing a finger at me to punctuate her statement. “Your little American boytoy should be shut away like the rest, but he’s running free, because the rules don’t apply to the high and mighty Tanner family. You really think anyone’s going to believe that you’ll keep Riley caged? He’ll be free by morning, and then we’re all doomed!”
“Shelby, can you keep her here?” My words seemed entirely out of place, given the situation. I needed to say them anyway.
Thankfully for me, Shelby understood the way my mind worked at least well enough not to question me. “Yeah,” she said. “Go take care of whatever you need to do.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said, and ran for the porch.
Even if the guesthouse hadn’t been small and mostly comprised of closed doors, I would have had no trouble finding my room: all I had to do was follow the sound of high-pitched rodent voices chanting liturgies. I swung myself through the open door and found the entire congregation standing in a circle on the floor, some of them holding brightly colored feathers from unidentified local birds, others holding small candles of the sort commonly found on birthday cakes. Shelby’s garrinna, Flora, was curled up on the bed with her forepaws crossed in the classic feline manner and her head cocked hard to the side in a perfect expression of avian fascination. All the mice stopped chanting as they turned to look at me. Flora raised her head and mantled her wings, giving a screech of welcome.
I was, for once, speechless. It seemed the mice were, too. Then, as one, they began waving their feathers and candles and shouting, “HAIL! HAIL THE GOD OF SCALES AND SILENCES, CONQUEROR OF WEREWOLVES!”
“That is not going to become a part of my official title,” I said sternly. I crouched, putting myself more on a level with them. “I need three mice to come with me. The mission will be a dangerous one. I cannot guarantee the safety of any who choose to volunteer. I can promise you that I will do my very best to keep you from harm, and that should I fail, I will carry the weight of my failure for the rest of my living days.”