still hadnât come back from his run.
Jordan Leone was trouble. Bad news. Which was probably why she wanted him again, Monica thought with a sigh and a smile so twisted it almost hurt. She rubbed at her face and tried to shake off the lingering feeling of his touch, but all she could think about was the way his mouth tasted.
She wasnât going to accomplish anything this way. No amount of note taking or database studying could help her if she didnât get out there in the field and do her own research. DiNero had hired her for a job, and she meant to do itâbecause the sooner she found out what had been killing his animals, the sooner she could get out of here and away from Jordan.
She put on a pair of thick khaki work pants with a lot of pockets and her heavy waterproof hiking boots, laced tight over thick socks. Her knife went on her belt, along with several others in different utility pouches. She tucked a notepad and pen sealed inside a plastic waterproof pouch into a pocket. She added a flashlight and a package of matches, both waterproof, and a small wax candle. A couple granola bars and a bottle of water went in another. They weighed her down, especially the water, but sheâd spent forty-eight hours in a pitch-black cave, desperate enough to drink just about anything; she never went on any scouting mission without at least a minimum of supplies.
Finally, she pulled her hair into a tight tail at the base of her neck, threw on a baseball cap and shrugged into a denim jacket. Sheâd be sweating in seconds the moment she stepped outside, but the protection for her arms and upper body would be worth it. She didnât have a map of the menagerie, but DiNero had laid it out to be easily navigated, so it wasnât as if she had to figure out a maze. All she had to do was follow the paths.
She knew how to move quietly, though she wasnât trying to be sneaky. She paused at the first cage she came to, peeking inside at the flashing eyes of the silver fox. It yipped softly at her and came close to the bars of the cage, but Monica didnât reach to pet it. She crooned to it gently, though, watching the foxâs ears flick forward and back.
âYouâre okay, pretty girl,â Monica said and moved on.
She wasnât sure what she was looking for, exactly, just that sheâd exhausted her resources and needed to come at this from a different angle. Sheâd worked on a team once that had set a bait trap, something she hesitated to do because it meant sacrificing an innocent living creature. She didnât think DiNero would go for it anyway, at least not with one of his pets. Which meant what, she thought as she walked, waiting for another attack?
Fortifying the walls could work to prevent another slaughter, but it was no guarantee. It also meant theyâd never find out what had been doing it, unless the thing showed up someplace else...like a playground, Monica thought with a shudder. Sour bile painted her tongue at the thought of a case where the Crew had successfully managed to chase off a Chimera that had been repeatedly ransacking a poultry-processing plant, only to have the thing show up in the backyard of a nearby day-care center. She hadnât been on that team, but everyone had heard about it. The news had said it was a pit-bull attack.
That was why, she thought as she moved on, people like Jordan didnât believe.
Following the curving brick path, she caught sight of DiNeroâs house. Lights blazing. The sounds of a party inside. She hadnât been invited, didnât care. She paused, though, to admire the mansion and wonder what it was like to have so much money you could drop a few grand without a second thought. Most of what DiNero was paying her went back to the Crew to fund travel and other expenses, but she got her fair share. It wouldnât buy her a mansion but it was enough, as Carl wouldâve said, to keep her in Cheetos and beer.
For a
Jordan Leone was trouble. Bad news. Which was probably why she wanted him again, Monica thought with a sigh and a smile so twisted it almost hurt. She rubbed at her face and tried to shake off the lingering feeling of his touch, but all she could think about was the way his mouth tasted.
She wasnât going to accomplish anything this way. No amount of note taking or database studying could help her if she didnât get out there in the field and do her own research. DiNero had hired her for a job, and she meant to do itâbecause the sooner she found out what had been killing his animals, the sooner she could get out of here and away from Jordan.
She put on a pair of thick khaki work pants with a lot of pockets and her heavy waterproof hiking boots, laced tight over thick socks. Her knife went on her belt, along with several others in different utility pouches. She tucked a notepad and pen sealed inside a plastic waterproof pouch into a pocket. She added a flashlight and a package of matches, both waterproof, and a small wax candle. A couple granola bars and a bottle of water went in another. They weighed her down, especially the water, but sheâd spent forty-eight hours in a pitch-black cave, desperate enough to drink just about anything; she never went on any scouting mission without at least a minimum of supplies.
Finally, she pulled her hair into a tight tail at the base of her neck, threw on a baseball cap and shrugged into a denim jacket. Sheâd be sweating in seconds the moment she stepped outside, but the protection for her arms and upper body would be worth it. She didnât have a map of the menagerie, but DiNero had laid it out to be easily navigated, so it wasnât as if she had to figure out a maze. All she had to do was follow the paths.
She knew how to move quietly, though she wasnât trying to be sneaky. She paused at the first cage she came to, peeking inside at the flashing eyes of the silver fox. It yipped softly at her and came close to the bars of the cage, but Monica didnât reach to pet it. She crooned to it gently, though, watching the foxâs ears flick forward and back.
âYouâre okay, pretty girl,â Monica said and moved on.
She wasnât sure what she was looking for, exactly, just that sheâd exhausted her resources and needed to come at this from a different angle. Sheâd worked on a team once that had set a bait trap, something she hesitated to do because it meant sacrificing an innocent living creature. She didnât think DiNero would go for it anyway, at least not with one of his pets. Which meant what, she thought as she walked, waiting for another attack?
Fortifying the walls could work to prevent another slaughter, but it was no guarantee. It also meant theyâd never find out what had been doing it, unless the thing showed up someplace else...like a playground, Monica thought with a shudder. Sour bile painted her tongue at the thought of a case where the Crew had successfully managed to chase off a Chimera that had been repeatedly ransacking a poultry-processing plant, only to have the thing show up in the backyard of a nearby day-care center. She hadnât been on that team, but everyone had heard about it. The news had said it was a pit-bull attack.
That was why, she thought as she moved on, people like Jordan didnât believe.
Following the curving brick path, she caught sight of DiNeroâs house. Lights blazing. The sounds of a party inside. She hadnât been invited, didnât care. She paused, though, to admire the mansion and wonder what it was like to have so much money you could drop a few grand without a second thought. Most of what DiNero was paying her went back to the Crew to fund travel and other expenses, but she got her fair share. It wouldnât buy her a mansion but it was enough, as Carl wouldâve said, to keep her in Cheetos and beer.
For a
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