Page 35 of Waifs And Strays
Ichanged out my casual clothes into a fuzzy jumper with a loud geometric design, a long flowing skirt and sensible shoes. I was tying my laces when I heard a loud feline yowl followed by a canine howl. I sprang up and pounded out of my bedroom down the hallway.
Thane was clutching his face – and the door to the back room where I’d confined She Who Hisses was lying open. ‘Whoever said curiosity killed the cat,’ I spat, ‘hadn’t experienced the nosiness of your average werewolf!’
Thane pulled his hand from his face to reveal a nasty scratch down his cheek. ‘There was a strange noise,’ he said stiffly. ‘It seemed prudent to investigate under the current circumstances.’ He straightened his shoulders. ‘And I am not your average werewolf.’
Yeah, yeah. ‘You’re just not like the other boys?’ I said in a faintly mocking tone.
Thane held his ground and sent me a challenging look. ‘Exactly.’
I sighed, abandoned the conversation and ducked into the room. I didn’t need to search behind the cardboard boxes toknow that She Who Hisses had gone. Hopefully her wound had healed enough; the most I could do now was hope she was alright. At least she was a survivor who could defend herself. She'd probably be fine.
I tidied up the food and water bowls then turned around. Thane was staring at me with a strange expression on his face. ‘If you're looking for sympathy for that scratch,’ I said, ‘then don't look at me.’
‘I’m not bothered by it.’ His voice suggested mildly wounded pride. ‘Although I apologise for opening the door and letting that cat out.’
As he should do. I sniffed. He was still staring at me. ‘What then?’
He waved a hand up and down my body. ‘What on earth are you wearing?’
I knew what he meant but my lingering irritation about She Who Hisses made my answer cranky. ‘You're commenting onmyfashion choices? You? The man who's been living out of a backpack?’
Thane waited. I rolled my eyes and explained. ‘It helps to present myself as a harmless, middle-aged woman. People judge by appearances. Folk are more willing to yield their secrets to a cat lady than a hard-arse assassin.’
He nodded, conceding the point. ‘Which side of you did Nick see?’
‘Cat lady, of course.’ I paused. ‘With a touch of hard arse.’ And then, to prove that I was both, I made him wait while I ambled around and spoke to each cat in turn.
It was at least another twenty minutes before we left the house. At my insistence, we sought out Lorna first. I was inclined to believe Thane when he said that she couldn't have been involved, but I wanted to rule her out for certain before we confronted Quack. For one thing, Lorna would be easier to trackdown; for another, taking on Quack might antagonise the entire MacTire pack. I didn't want the most powerful werewolf clan in the country baying for my blood unless it was absolutely necessary.
Thane huffed some more about my lack of trust in his judgment but yielded quickly enough, suggesting that he wasn't any keener to piss off the MacTires than I was. I also suspected he was hoping that I'd agree with his assessment once I'd met Lorna because he wanted to prove himself to me. Strangely, that thought warmed me to him – despite what had happened with She Who Hisses.
Thane called ahead to confirm Lorna was at home and would see us before we jumped on the tram and headed off. We ended up in a surprisingly nice part of the city. I’d half-expected to find her hanging around one of Coldstream’s homeless shelters or squatting in an empty building like Thane had been doing, but her flat was in an expensive-looking, low-rise building in one of the gentrified areas. Perhaps being a lone werewolf wasn't so bad after all.
Thane sensed my thoughts and smirked. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘She's done well for herself.’ There was a touch of pride in his voice as if her success reflected on him. Perhaps it did.
‘Is this where she was attacked?’ I asked. I wondered about the security and eyed the small red graffiti tag etched onto the corner of the building. It was a circle with a slash through it and it had been sprayed with precision, as if the artist had been preparing his artwork for an exhibition rather than being worried about getting caught in the act.
Thane's mouth flattened. ‘No. They came for her when she was out.’ He gestured upwards. ‘She'll tell you herself.’
We were buzzed in quickly and took the lift up to the third floor. A woman was standing by the front door of one of the flats. Much like this building, Lorna wasn't what I'dexpected. She looked to be in her early fifties and was stunningly beautiful. Her ash-blonde hair was immaculately coiffed in an elaborate chignon, her skin was clear enough to be used in any number of beauty cream advertisements and her clothes were an understated but obviously expensive shade of beige.
‘You two are friends?’ I asked Thane dubiously in an undertone.
‘Great friends,’ the woman responded. Damned werewolf hearing. She held out her hand. ‘I'm Lorna Minton. It's a pleasure to meet you.’
I plastered on a friendly smile. ‘I’m Kit. Thank you for agreeing to talk to me.’
‘Anything for the great Thane Barrow,’ she said.
I glanced sideways at Thane. Barrow? That was a small detail he'd failed to mention. I didn't get any chance to comment, though, because Lorna was already ushering us into her flat.
The décor matched both the woman and the building. There was very little clutter, only a few artful objects placed in carefully painted alcoves and a neat array of glossy magazines splayed out on the stylish coffee table. I eyed the most visible title:Cat Care Monthly. I raised an eyebrow. ‘You like cats?’
Thane snorted.
‘I love them,’ Lorna declared, ignoring him completely. ‘Unfortunately pets aren't allowed in this building so I have to content myself with magazines instead of the real thing.’ She smiled. ‘Would you like something to drink? A cheeky afternoon gin and tonic, perhaps?’
I declined, keen to get down to business. Now that I'd met her in person, I had the sense that my befuddled cat-lady routine would be useless so I got straight to the point. ‘Tell me about the attack,’ I said without preamble.
