the rancid old pedophiles wouldn’t give up all their womenfolk to the preacher. But some families might have married off the older daughters to the preacher, just as Lot, in the Bible, had offered his daughters to the crowd of rapists to keep himself and his men friends safe. That sounded like the thinking of some of the churchmen.
I said, “Wrong again. I got me a special agent of PsyLED here, Jackie.”
Rick called out, “I’m Special Agent Rick LaFleur. I’d like to talk to you about a number of things, one of which is the attack up at the house. Do you know who shot up the house owned by Nell Ingram?”
There was no answer. Through the soles of my feet, I felt Jackie move away, not back toward the house, but up along the ridge, fast, weirdly fast. Running with his tail between his legs at a speed I’d need to think about later. A speed maybe given him by the vampire blood he’d drunk in years past, blood provided when his daddy kidnapped vampires for him to drink from. The forest carried his emotional overload—fury, panic, sexual frustration. Fear brought about by the unexpected presence of law enforcement.
I relaxed my shoulders and said to Rick, “He’s gone.” I told the leopard, “Let the little boy go. No harm, no foul. This time.” I might hate Joshua Purdy, I mighta killed a man here in the heart of the woods once, but then as now, I was a judge, not a murderer, and judges should have some small speck of mercy about them, somewhere.
Paka backed away, leaving Joshua laying on the stones, bleeding and terrified. I could smell urine and knew he’d pissed his pants, not that I blamed him. I looked at Rick. “You sure he isn’t gonna go catty on the full moon?”
“Yes. I’m sure,” he said, his voice tight. “She didn’t use her teeth. There was no exchange of body fluids.” Rick moved cat fast and knelt, one hand fisted in the green fur of the thing with its feet buried in the earth. He put away his gun and petted the creature like a kitten, a swipe from ears along its back and tail. “Pea,” he said, as if the animal could understand him. “Nell says the man won’t die at Paka’s fangs.”
It didn’t sound like any kind of cop talk I’d heard on the films I watched. It sounded like a paranormal conversation rather than the law of the United States, conversation with the metaphoric hand of justice rather than the hand of the written law with
I
s dotted and
T
s crossed, which was good for me. It meant that Rick was unlikely to consider my next acts as a crime. Rick added, shaking the green creature slightly, “He won’t turn on the full moon. And Paka didn’t kill him.”
“My land. My rules,” I said to Pea. “Paka goes free, so you can back off, you little green . . .
thing
.”
The green thing turned to me, chittered in disgust, and sniffed the air as if perplexed. Animals picked up conversations from body language, but I was pretty sure that this one understood English. It spat, clearly repulsed, and looked up into the trees, chittering some more.
Pea went silent, its nose still working like a rabbit’s, twitching and bunching.
To Rick I said, “Would you take Joshua away, outta my woods? Paka and me, we got us a little talking we need to do.” The black cat looked at me, her eyes a beautiful shade of greenish gold in the early night, her black mottled coat disappearing entirely in the shadows. “We can walk back to the house together. Okay?”
Rick looked from me to his mate and shrugged. “Paka doesn’t like other females. It’s taken her a week to settle in with the trainees.”
“She’ll be fine with me,” I said, hoping I was right, hoping my claiming of her for the land hadn’t done something to her. I had only ever claimed plants, not a breathing animal, let alone a werecat.
Rick released Pea’s green fur and climbed the stones, bent, slung Joshua’s arm over his shoulder, and half carried him back down. None too gently, he helped the man back
I said, “Wrong again. I got me a special agent of PsyLED here, Jackie.”
Rick called out, “I’m Special Agent Rick LaFleur. I’d like to talk to you about a number of things, one of which is the attack up at the house. Do you know who shot up the house owned by Nell Ingram?”
There was no answer. Through the soles of my feet, I felt Jackie move away, not back toward the house, but up along the ridge, fast, weirdly fast. Running with his tail between his legs at a speed I’d need to think about later. A speed maybe given him by the vampire blood he’d drunk in years past, blood provided when his daddy kidnapped vampires for him to drink from. The forest carried his emotional overload—fury, panic, sexual frustration. Fear brought about by the unexpected presence of law enforcement.
I relaxed my shoulders and said to Rick, “He’s gone.” I told the leopard, “Let the little boy go. No harm, no foul. This time.” I might hate Joshua Purdy, I mighta killed a man here in the heart of the woods once, but then as now, I was a judge, not a murderer, and judges should have some small speck of mercy about them, somewhere.
Paka backed away, leaving Joshua laying on the stones, bleeding and terrified. I could smell urine and knew he’d pissed his pants, not that I blamed him. I looked at Rick. “You sure he isn’t gonna go catty on the full moon?”
“Yes. I’m sure,” he said, his voice tight. “She didn’t use her teeth. There was no exchange of body fluids.” Rick moved cat fast and knelt, one hand fisted in the green fur of the thing with its feet buried in the earth. He put away his gun and petted the creature like a kitten, a swipe from ears along its back and tail. “Pea,” he said, as if the animal could understand him. “Nell says the man won’t die at Paka’s fangs.”
It didn’t sound like any kind of cop talk I’d heard on the films I watched. It sounded like a paranormal conversation rather than the law of the United States, conversation with the metaphoric hand of justice rather than the hand of the written law with
I
s dotted and
T
s crossed, which was good for me. It meant that Rick was unlikely to consider my next acts as a crime. Rick added, shaking the green creature slightly, “He won’t turn on the full moon. And Paka didn’t kill him.”
“My land. My rules,” I said to Pea. “Paka goes free, so you can back off, you little green . . .
thing
.”
The green thing turned to me, chittered in disgust, and sniffed the air as if perplexed. Animals picked up conversations from body language, but I was pretty sure that this one understood English. It spat, clearly repulsed, and looked up into the trees, chittering some more.
Pea went silent, its nose still working like a rabbit’s, twitching and bunching.
To Rick I said, “Would you take Joshua away, outta my woods? Paka and me, we got us a little talking we need to do.” The black cat looked at me, her eyes a beautiful shade of greenish gold in the early night, her black mottled coat disappearing entirely in the shadows. “We can walk back to the house together. Okay?”
Rick looked from me to his mate and shrugged. “Paka doesn’t like other females. It’s taken her a week to settle in with the trainees.”
“She’ll be fine with me,” I said, hoping I was right, hoping my claiming of her for the land hadn’t done something to her. I had only ever claimed plants, not a breathing animal, let alone a werecat.
Rick released Pea’s green fur and climbed the stones, bent, slung Joshua’s arm over his shoulder, and half carried him back down. None too gently, he helped the man back
Similar Books
