Night Broken

Page 15

A short distance ahead in that too-rough-to-harvest rocky area, a copse of cottonwoods grew where the ground dropped down in a natural drainage. Theyd probably been planted as a windbreak because we werent near enough to the Columbia River for the growth to be natural. By my reckoning, the source of the things I smelled seemed to be coming from the same general area.
Tony and the man had quit arguing to follow me.
Where are you going, Mercy? Tony called.
Something smells bad over here, I told him. Blood and feces is bad, right?
I left the tilled ground and broke through the edging ring of opportunistic alfalfa into cheatgrass that released spiky-painful seedpods into my tennis shoes and socks as soon as Id traveled about two steps. I followed the too-sweet, unmistakable scent of freshly opened organs and blood to a small clearing under the treesand stopped, appalled.
Holy shit, the stranger who knew me said in reverent tones. Then he shouted one of those words that dont mean anything except pay attention and come and are designed to carry over battlefields.
This was not a battlefield, or even the remains of a battlefield. It was the remains of a slaughter.
Bodies, blood, and pieces were scattered here and there and mixed, so it took me a moment to parse exactly what I saw. I finally decided to go with heads, because heads are difficult to eat, and the charnel-house mess was definitely missing parts and maybe whole bodies. Five no, six people, all women, two dogsa German shepherd and something small and mixed-breeda horse, and some other big animal whose head was either missing or might have been under something.
I have a strong stomachI hunt rabbits, mice, and small birds while wearing my coyote skin, and I eat them raw. Before this, I would have said that lots of things make me squeamish, but fresh bodies not so much. This was so far beyond anything Id ever seen that I flinched, looked away, then turned back to stare because part of me was sure that it couldnt have been as bad as I first thought. It was worse.
Had someone in the pack done this? Or rather, given the volume of meat eaten, had several someones in the pack done this?
These havent been here long, I said into the silence behind me because I had to say something, do something. Probably only since yesterday. Its only spring, but even so, something would have started rotting in a day or so, and I dont smell much putrefaction.
I took a step forward to see better, and Tony grabbed my arm.
Crime site, he said. We havent processed this. We didnt know about this one. He looked around. This isnt a make-out site, and theres no reason for people to be walking around here. Probably wouldnt have seen it until the guy who called us about the first body in his field came upon this by accident, too.
How did she know it was here? asked the angry man who knew who I was.
I could smell them, I told him simply. Ive got a good nosebeing the mate of a werewolf can bring unexpected benefits. Both were true, just not the way I implied.
Clay Willis, this is Mercy Hauptman. Mercy, Clay Willis, said Tony. Clays the investigator in charge. We had one body I wanted you to take a look at because it looked like its been eaten by something. Our guy said maybe werewolves. That kill is older than this onehe paused and took a breaththan these are by more than a day.
Could have been a werewolf, I acknowledged reluctantly. If a werewolf had done this, he needed to be stopped yesterday. But, I thought with some relief, if it had been one of our werewolves who had taken this much prey, hed been in the grips of some kind of frenzy, and that would have translated itself to the pack bonds. We all knew, on moon hunts, when one of us took down prey. It wasnt one of our pack.
I cant tell for sure if it was werewolves from here. Maybe if I got closer. If a werewolf had been around here, hed taken a different route to the killing field because I couldnt smell werewolf.
Just tell us what you see, Tony suggested, and raised a peremptory hand to keep the other people spread out behind us quiet.
I looked at the pile of bodies, trying to analyze what I saw rather than worry about it.
Someone, I began slowly, maybe several someones I stopped and changed my mind. No, it was just one killer. He had dinner, then a play day, maybe? Opportunistic kills? Some predators, like leopards, will bring all of their prey to one place, where they can feed later. But it didnt really feel like that.
Why not several someones? Tony asked.
I tried to work that out, but my instincts said one killer, and I couldnt tell them that. When I made a frustrated sound, Tony said, Just from the top of your head, Mercy.
No sign of competition, I said, finally, distilling what my instincts had told me. When a pack hunts Someone behind me sucked in a breath.
Werewolf packs hunt at least once a month on the full moon, I told them firmly. Around here, we mostly hunt rabbits or ground squirrels. Other places, they hunt deer, elk, or even moose. Just like timber wolves do, though werewolves avoid domestic animals like cattle as a matter of course.
Point taken, said Willis, not sounding angry anymore, just tired.
When wolves hunt, there is a hierarchy. Someone directs, others follow. I dont see any signs of that. No signs that someone got the good parts My voice wobbled because for all my experience with killing rabbits, they were rabbits. One of the women was wearing tennis shoes that looked like a pair Jesse had in her closet. I shut up for a second to recover.
Maybe another kind of predator would hunt differently. I shrugged uneasily. But I think this is the work of just one.
Only the horse and the other big animalwhich had probably been a horse, too, because I thought I could pick out the start of a manehad been disemboweled. Predators go for organ meats first. So why had he mutilated the other bodies beyond what hed eaten? It had been deliberate and had nothing to do with eating because there was an intact dog leg about ten feet from me, and the dog was on the far side of the pile. I breathed in, but that didnt help. The scent of blood held no trauma for me, but the stink of terror and more faintly, pain.
I think youll find that at least some of them were mutilated while they were still alive, I said in a low voice because I didnt want it to be true. But my stomach cramped with knowledge that the smell of pain meant someone had hurt. It was faint because pain stops when someone dies.
A werewolf could do this? asked Willis.
I told The wind shifted just a little, and I caught another scent. Iclosed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get below the smell of the dead.
Magic, I said, with my eyes still closed. It was subtle, like a good perfume, but now that I knew its flavor, it was strong. Problem was, I had no idea what kind of magic I was scenting.
Fae? asked someone who wasnt Tony or Willis.
I opened my eyes and shook my head. Fae magic smells different than this. This isnt witchcraft, either, though its closer to that than to fae magic.
Witchcraft, said Willis neutrally.
I nodded. It wasnt a secret; the witches had been hiding in plain sight for a hundred years or more. In places like New Orleans or Salem (Massachusetts, not Oregon), they were virtually a tourist attraction. That human culture dismissed the validity of their claims was something the witches I know thought was a delicious irony: when they had tried to hide, they had been hunted and nearly destroyed. In the open, they were viewed as fakesand, even more usefully, a lot of the people claiming to be witches really were fakes.
But this wasnt witchcraft, I said again, in case hed only been paying attention to part of what Id told him. Not any witchcraft Ive smelled before, anyway. If you ask, Adam has someone he can send to check it out. Elizaveta Arkadyevna was our pack witch on retainer. She wont agree to talk to you, but we can get the information for you if you would like.
Not admissible, grunted Willis.
Neither, probably, will Mercys testimony be, agreed Tony. But at least we wont be running around in the dark with blindfolds on.
Sister
The whisper came out of nowhere. I glanced around, but no one else seemed to have heard it. A movement caught my eyeand there was a coyote crouched in the brush about fifty feet from where we all stood.
It could have been a real coyotethere are a lot of them around Finley. But I knew that the coyote was Gary Laughingdog, not because I had some sort of special way of telling walkers from coyoteshis body language said he was looking for me, and I wasnt on speaking terms with the local coyotes. He met my eyes for a full second, then slipped away: message received and understood. He wanted to talk to me; otherwise, he would never have shown himself. Maybe he knew something about what had happened here.
I blinked at the dead a moment. Could Coyote have done this? It was a useless question because I had no idea what he was capable of. There were no stories that I knew about Coyote killing like this, but I didnt know all the Coyote stories.
All the women are wearing clothing, said one of the police officers.
Could still have been sexual assault, said another one.
Cougars hide their prey, so that they can eat it over a few days, the first officer offered tentatively, and someone made a gagging noise.
I dont think they realized I could hear them because they kept their voices down.
Just for the record, you think this was done by something supernatural? Tony asked me in a low voice.
Yes. I told you, I smell magic.
A werewolf did this, said Willis with authority.
I hunched my shoulders and shook my head. The magic isnt werewolf or fae. I might be able to do more if I can get closer.
You smell magic, and that means it wasnt a werewolf? asked Willis, sounding like he didnt believe me. I didnt blame him.
I am not going to make things up just to make both of us feel better, I said. Werewolves smell like musk and mint. This smells like magic and scorched earthand that is bad. Adam wouldnt have a lot of trouble hunting down a rogue werewolf. It would be hard for one to hide from the pack more than a day or two. We can stop a werewolfand Ill tell Adam to keep an ear to the groundbut I dont think this is a werewolf kill.
What if it was one of your pack? Tony asked, almost gently. They would know that wed bring you in because we have before. They could hide their scent from you.
I shook my head. Trust me. This kind of mass killing? Werewolves can smell emotion, can smell when something is off. A pack member who did this could not hide it from the rest.
This wasnt done with a lot of emotion, said Willis.
I looked at him.
Look at them, he told me. The bodies are arranged for maximum effect. The animals are on the bottom, the women on top, heads together like a macabre pinwheel. I hadnt looked that hard, but once he said it, I saw it, too. A pinwheel of dead womenand now that image was going to haunt me for a long time. The killer felt nothing for the deadunless youre right, and they were tortured before they died. But when he left this, he was in control. No strong emotions for your pack to smell.
He couldnt smell the fear and agony that I did. Nor could I tell him that no wolf could have hidden from the pack bonds while he killed so many.
Maybe someone is trying to make trouble for the werewolves, Tony said.
I think it is the werewolves making trouble for themselves, said Willis.
You brought me out because you wanted my opinion, I told them. It could be a werewolf, but if it is, isnt one of our pack. I dont think its a werewolf. I dont smell one, but I cant get close enough to check.
Why dont you come over to the other scene, Tony said. Theyve got what they need from it? He addressed that question to a woman in muddy overalls, and she nodded at him with a sort of studied weariness. Maybe you can see something we dont.
I started to turn away and caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked back over my shoulder and saw a woman kneeling right smack in the middle of the crime scene. Her blond hair was in a professional bun that contrasted with the jeans and tank top she wore. For a surreal moment, I thought it was Christy, and almost asked her what she thought she was doing. Then she moved and broke the illusion. It was just her hair and something in the sweep of her jawline that reminded me of Adams ex-wife.
The kneeling woman was petting the severed head of the German shepherd. She looked up, and her eyes met mine, just as Gary Laughingdogs had. And then I realized what I was looking at and why no one else seemed to notice her. I see ghosts.
Find the one who did this, she told me sternly.
I gave her a little nod, and Willis caught my shoulder.
What do you see? he asked. What made you turn back?
Only the dead, I answered. And I intend to help them as best I can.
He wasnt satisfied, but I thought he knew I was telling the truth.