Clean Sweep

Page 10

The body of a stalker lay ten feet from the boundary of the inn. Unlike my corpse, this one had reddish fur and it sprawled right in the middle of the sidewalk. In plain sight. At ten o'clock in the morning. It didn't look like a dead dog. It didn't look like a dead deer. It looked like some out-of-this-world monstrosity, which is exactly what it was, and in precisely five minutes Mr. Ramirez would be rounding the bend of this sidewalk, walking his Rhodesian Ridgeback, Asad, just as he had every day for the three years I had lived here.
This was probably a trap. It didn't matter. I had to get the stalker onto the inn grounds before anyone saw it.
I sprinted across the yard. The beast lay on its side, its head turned almost completely around. Bones protruded from the torn flesh on its neck. Something had snapped its neck and then ripped out its throat for a good measure.
No time to bother with hooks or spears. I dropped the broom on the grass, ran into the street, grabbed the stalker's legs, and pulled. The body slid across concrete. Heavy. I strained and pulled it in short jerks across the sidewalk. One, two, three...
Magic tinged through me --another intruder. I jerked the body onto the grass, behind the firecracker bush, and spun around. Sean Evans winked at me. He was holding my broom.
Oh, you idiot.
Sean moved. I sort of saw it --a blur rushed toward me and then I was pinned to the oak. His big body braced me, his left leg pressing mine to the tree, his left arm braced against the bark over my shoulder. He leaned into me, holding the broom out of my reach with his right hand and grinning a happy, self-satisfied wolf grin.
"What are you going to do now, tough guy?"
Our faces were mere inches apart. His amber eyes laughed at me. A tiny electric zing ran through me. He was entirely too close.
He studied my face and nodded at the broom. "Is this your broom? Yes? I've got what you want, buttercup."
He had what I wanted, huh. Buttercup, huh. Okay. "You sure seem happy with yourself," I said.
"Of course I am. I took you by surprise, took away your toy, and I've trapped you against this tree. I think we'll start with an apology."
"Me? Apologize to you? For what?"
"For trying to kill me by throwing me against the tree. Also, we need to have a conversation about your little dog."
I looked into his eyes. "Sean..."
"Yes?" He leaned even closer and he was looking at me with a kind of distinctly male fascination. What do you know? I'd caught the werewolf's eye. Lucky me. I sent a magic pulse toward the broom. The top of the broom handle melted, forming a bubble of gray metal streaked through with bright blue veins. Now I just had to keep his gaze off it.
I looked into the wolf's eyes. "I've never considered killing you."
"Aha."
"But now I'm tempted."
He smiled. The smile lit his face, giving him a dangerous, wicked edge, and... humor. He knew he was bad. He thought it was funny. Wow. I've never before understood the true meaning of "handsome devil." I knew logically what it meant, but now I saw it in action. Sean was a handsome devil in the flesh: arrogant, dangerous, and hot. I knew he was bad for me, but I had this absurd pull to reach out and touch his face. If he weren't so happy with himself, I might have even considered it.
"I've got your broom and you're not going anywhere," Sean said. "I'd like to see you try."
"You sure about that?"
"Yeah. Give it your best shot."
I pushed. The bubble of metal chomped on Sean's fist, fusing it to the broom. His eyes went wide. I patted his shoulder. "Take him inside and hold him." The broom jerked him back and dragged him across the grass. The house doors swung open like the cavernous mouth of a colossal beast, gulped Sean down, then closed.
"Take the body to the lab and seal it," I murmured.
The earth beneath the stalker gaped and swallowed the corpse.
I pulled my T-shirt down, straightening it. Mr. Ramirez walked by. His dog sniffed at the sidewalk.
"Good morning!" I called out.
Mr. Ramirez nodded in a solemn way. "Good morning. Nice day today."
"I heard we might reach a hundred degrees."
"Heat is good for an old man like me."
I smiled. "Oh, Mr. Ramirez, you're not old."
"I am, but the alternative is worse." He waved at me and went on his way.
I turned and strode to the house. Sean was stuck to a wall like a fly to the flypaper. The broom had melted into dozens of narrow, elastic metal filaments that stretched across Sean's body, holding him tight and pulsing with blue every time he tried to break free. Smooth wooden roots as thick as my arm curved around his limbs, melting back into the wall. The house had decided to get in on the action. Only Sean's face was clearly visible, but his eyes told me he was determined to find a way to free himself.
Caldenia descended down the stairs and saw him. "Ooo. Planning a kinky morning?"
"No, just dealing with a pesky intruder."
"Oh well. If you kill him, do save me his liver. Werewolf liver is a very tender delicacy." She licked her lips. "Especially when sautéed in butter."
"What the hell...?" Sean growled.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Caldenia walked past me to the kitchen, took a bag of Funyuns off the counter, then headed back upstairs.
I closed the distance between Sean and me and crossed my arms. "Now then. We have to talk."
*** *** ***
Sean studied me, his amber eyes completely lucid. "So it's not the broom."
"No." It was me.
His eyes narrowed. "But you didn't use any of your awesome powers to grab that corpse off the road. Whatever it is, it's limited to the house."
Sean Evans might have been crazy, but he wasn't stupid.
"You're not the first werewolf I've met," I told him.
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning I'm not buying your growly act. You're designed to maintain calm while under heavy fire and you haven't once lost your temper. Even when I threw you against the tree. Which was accidental, by the way. I would never do that to one of my trees on purpose."
He flashed his teeth at me. "See, you shouldn't give away targets like that. Next time I want to piss you off, I'll just have to cut down a couple of your saplings."
"You haven't shifted into wetwork shape. Also, you're methodically testing your restraints while showing me your big teeth and pretending to snarl at me."
"I haven't really tested them yet," Sean said.
That I could believe. "Good, because I haven't used any of my power to hold you yet. Right now all that's restraining you is the house and the broom. I can get involved, but I would much rather talk."
Sean considered it. "Fine. Let's talk. Whatever powers you have are limited to the house, and I can tell by looking at you that you're a civilian. You don't have the right muscle tone, and you don't move like someone who has experience cutting at living bodies in close quarters. You aren't one hundred percent sure what you're dealing with or you know exactly what you're dealing with, but either way you're scared."
"And how did you figure that out?"
"Yesterday you left early in the morning and didn't come back until late. I saw your face when you went to your car. You stopped and looked at the house. You looked worried. The old lady, who normally sits on that balcony for hours, spent the entire day inside."
"You were watching my house."
"Yes. Those things out there, whatever the hell they are, aren't playing around. You expected them to attack the house, which is why you warned your tenant to hide. There is only one reason why someone in your position would leave for a long trip. You went for help. Doesn't look to me like you got it."
Underestimating him was a really bad idea. "And how did you deduce that, Mr. Holmes?"
He smiled. "Elementary, Watson. If you'd found help, you'd be more upbeat. Instead when you got out of your car, you looked like you were dragging an anchor behind you. I've seen that look before. It's the look that says 'I radioed for air support and they told me none will be coming and another enemy battalion is heading my way.'" He tilted his head. "You may not have the air support, but you have me."
"Wait a minute. Just yesterday some man barged into my house and ranted about handling everything himself. Was that you?"
"Yesterday I thought you were just a normal person and I didn't want to see you hurt. Dina, you're forcing me to split my attention. I'm reasonably certain you're safe in your house, but you keep leaving that safety. I can't patrol the neighborhood and babysit you at the same time, and since you haven't been forthcoming with information, I never know when you're going on another expedition into the subdivision. I have to sit here on my hands like a little kid and watch your house. I don't like sitting on my hands."
"I didn't ask for your protection."
"You did ask me to do something about the dead dogs."
He had me there.
"I've spent years being dragged halfway around the world and fighting because someone told me to do it. I chose this place to settle down. This is my territory as your house is your territory. This is home. I will fight for it. And for the record, I never intended to let the dog killings slide."
"And if I don't want your protection?"
Sean looked at me like I wasn't right in the head. "As I said, your house is in my territory. I will keep you safe."
Right. He was genetically engineered to withstand sieges and guard things against overwhelming odds. He probably couldn't overcome the protective impulse even if he wanted to, and he definitely didn't want to. "Aren't you too young to be guarding the gate, Sean?"
He frowned. "I don't follow."
Maybe he really didn't know. "I'm an innkeeper. Does that mean anything to you?"