Page 61 of Waifs And Strays
‘Well, my work here is done.’ Trilby dusted off their hands. ‘We should head back. My regular customers will be getting impatient.’ They looked between MacTire and me. ‘It seems to me that you two have rather a lot to do as well. Do take care of yourselves. The solstice is almost upon us.’
Chapter
Twenty-Five
We returned to the MacTire hellhole; it wasn’t my preferred choice of venue but it was convenient. When we arrived, there were far more werewolves inside the building than before; Samantha must have called in the troops.
Despite his supposed status as a prisoner, Thane had been making himself at home and was regaling a large group of muscly MacTire werewolves with tales of his time as a lone wolf. Samantha was watching him darkly from the corner but she needn’t have worried that he was trying to persuade them they’d be better off on their own. From what I heard, he was being both self-deprecating and self-mocking, making no attempt to glamourise his lifestyle.
‘And that was when the vampire threw a stick,’ he said to his fascinated audience. ‘I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t have back-up or anyone to tell me to keep focused. My instincts kicked in.’
‘And?’ A particularly burly wolf leaned in. ‘What happened?’
‘What do you think happened?’ Thane said. ‘I chased after the damned stick.’
Everyone in the room burst out laughing and even Samantha cracked a smile. Thane grinned easily, happy to be the butt of the joke. Good for him; it is a hell of a lot harder to torture and kill someone whom you’ve had a laugh with. He was definitely a canny ginger bastard.
His eyes fell on me and his grin vanished as he raised his eyebrows in question. I nodded. Yes, Trilby had confirmed the theory about Nick’s blood being harvested to raise a demon. No, we still didn’t know where Nick or Umbra were.
Alexander MacTire strode to the centre of the room; although he didn’t clear his throat or ask for silence, silence was what he received. The power he held over his pack was obvious. ‘Clear the room,’ he said quietly.
Within ten seconds everyone had gone and only Samantha, Thane, MacTire and I remained. He repeated what we’d learned in short, clipped syllables that didn’t do very much to disguise his rage.
‘So they might have already drained his blood,’ Samantha said when he’d finished. ‘Nicholas might already be dead.’
I didn’t think so. ‘Umbra need thirteen pints to invoke a demon. Even if they took every single drop from Nick’s body, they wouldn’t have enough. Plus,’ I added, ‘the book said that the blood has to be fresh. I reckon they’ve probably taken some from him but they have to allow him time to recover. They’ll be waiting until the last minute before they drain him dry.’
‘We can’t wait until the last minute,’ Thane objected. ‘His life is still in the balance.’
MacTire frowned. ‘Exactly. Our priority is finding Umbra. We don’t know how many of them there are or where they are hiding, but wehaveto find them.’
‘And how will we manage that?’ I asked.
Samantha smiled grimly. ‘This is one of those many times when it pays to be part of a pack.’ She gave Thane a pointedlook. ‘Most of the MacTire wolves who are not in this building are already out searching. While you were gone and Thane was courting his fans, I also called in favours from several of our allies. The Stewarts, the Fergusons and the MacGregors have agreed to help. And thanks to you, we have a scent marker to search for.’
‘The assassin,’ I breathed.
She nodded. ‘We couldn’t catch his trail from where Rebecca was killed – there was more than one reason why he was using the rooftops to get around. The higher up you go, the fresher the air is.’
‘And the stronger the wind,’ Thane agreed. ‘That’s why I didn’t waste time searching for his scent trail at the time. There’d have been little left to follow and too much chance of his scent getting mixed with others.’
Samantha went on. ‘With hundreds of us searching and a scent anchor to seek, we can cover every street in Coldstream. The Fergusons in particular are known for their good noses. If any hint of the assassin lingers anywhere in this city, it will be found. If he sat in a pub or ate dinner in a restaurant, passed a few minutes on a park bench or blew his nose and dropped the tissue in a public bin, the trailwillbe found.’
Alexander MacTire shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘But will it be found in time?’ He wasn’t expressing doubt about what Samantha had said or the other werewolves’ skills; his question reflected his anxiety for Nick.
There was a sharp knock at the door and Samantha answered it. When she returned, there was a scrap of paper in her hand and a wide, unpleasant smile on her face. ‘I can categorically state that it will be found in time.’ She held up the piece of paper. ‘The Fergusons have come through – they are certain they’ve located Umbra.’
Barely an hour later,I was standing across the street from a nondescript building with more werewolves than I’d ever seen assembled in one place. It wasn’t only the Ferguson, Stewart and MacGregor packs who’d come to help, there were other werewolves, too. It was genuinely astonishing.
‘I didn’t realise the MacTires were so popular,’ I murmured to Thane, who was next to me and managing to appear relaxed despite the frank stares he was garnering from the other werewolves.
‘They’re not,’ he told me. ‘It’s purely political.’
That made more sense. ‘You mean nobody wants to risk suggesting that their pack was involved in Nick’s abduction? Nobody wants to risk conflict with the MacTires?’
Thane nodded. ‘If Nick is dead, the MacTires will be out for blood. They’ll attack first and ask questions later.’ He waved a hand. ‘By being here, these werewolves are asserting their innocence even though some will secretly be celebrating the MacTires’ weakness in losing one of their own.’
‘Nick isn’t theirs.’
