Fic: Phases of the Moon (In Plain Sight, 6/7)
Title: Phases of the Moon
Rating, summary, disclaimer, etc. same as in part 5.
Author's Note: Many thanks to kaffyr and pipisafoat.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
~
Chapter 6
August 24
Mary was on edge again. It wasn't just because of the day and because it was getting toward evening - she hadn't heard from Laurel all day today, and the girl hadn't answered the phone when Mary had called Marshall's home number. She had specifically told Laurel she'd be calling in to check on her a couple of times if Laurel didn't call herself.
Marshall looked over. “She still hasn't called?” he inquired, looking anxious when she shook her head.
“I've got a really bad feeling about this,” Mary muttered. She pointed at Marshall sharply. “And don't you start quoting Star Wars at me. Really not in the mood right now.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Would I be so frivolous under these circumstances?”
Mary looked at her phone and frowned again, tapping her fingers on her desk. If she ran out of here again, Marshall would follow, and there was no way Stan wouldn't notice the fact that they had once again both left in a major hurry, so soon after the last disaster. (Marshall had managed to spin a tale of one of Mary's witness's kids having a minor run-in with a bully at school which had at least mostly convinced Stan four days ago, but Mary thought there was a high chance that wouldn't work a second time.)
She had just attempted to turn her attention back to the paperwork in front of her when her cell phone rang. “Finally,” she said under her breath as she answered. “This is Mary.”
“Oh, it is, is it?” a drawling, unfamiliar male voice said, sounding pleased. “Good. I'm very glad I was able to reach you. I've heard a lot about you.”
Mary sat up straight in her chair, motioning urgently to Marshall. “And who the hell is this?”
“I bet you can figure it out,” the man replied. “Laurel tells me you're very intelligent.”
Marshall was looking at her in concern. He gestured to the phone and mouthed, “Who?”
Taking a deep breath, Mary tried to ignore the pounding of her heart as she said, “All right, Roman. Where are you - and where's Laurel?”
“Start from where she was, Miss Shannon,” Roman answered. “If you're one of our kind, you'll be able to find us from there.” The call ended.
“That was Roman?” Marshall asked. He was on his feet.
She nodded, rubbing a hand across her face. I do not need this right now, she thought, aware that it was selfish. But with the pressure of the impending moonrise already weighing on her, the last thing she needed was to have to deal with this Roman and his pack of lunatics. She hadn't even had a chance to get the wolfsbane from Marshall yet; he had suggested one dose with dinner, which they were going to have together at his house.
Marshall's face was grim. “Mary,” he said quietly, as they both began gathering up their things, “I think now might be the time to get some backup.”
He had a point. Mary glanced at him and then toward Stan's office. Their boss appeared to be on the phone at the moment. She saw Charlie walking by and called out, “Hey, Charlie, I need you to pass along a message to Stan after he gets through with his call.”
“Sure, Inspector Shannon,” Charlie said, taking out a pen and paper. “What's the message?”
Once again meeting Marshall's eye briefly, Mary tried to organize what she was going to say and what she was going to leave out. “Tell him that Marshall and I just intercepted some time-sensitive news that suggests that a wanted criminal is in the area and possibly after one of my witnesses. We're going to check on her, see if she's okay. If he doesn't hear back from us in the next half hour, send backup and a search team starting from Marshall's house.”
Charlie continued to write dutifully, though his eyes widened. “Inspector, are-- are you saying that you and Inspector Mann are going after this guy by yourselves right now?”
Mary picked up her phone and started toward the door.
“All right, can you at least tell me who the criminal is?” Charlie called after them in desperation.
“First name is Roman, last name unknown,” Marshall answered over his shoulder as he caught up to Mary. “There's an APB from the Nevada State Patrol with the rest of his info.”
“But, Inspectors, you have--”
The door shut behind them, cutting off Charlie's protest. “There, you happy?” Mary said to her partner. “At least Stan will have some idea of what's going on.”
“Yeah, I guess that works for now,” Marshall replied as they started down the stairs (they couldn't afford to wait for the elevator). “So Roman said he's at my house?”
She shook her head. “He said he was at your house,” she informed him, wondering with a surge of guilt what kind of destruction they would find when they got there, “and that I should be able to find Laurel and him from there if I'm really 'one of his kind'.”
Marshall was bewildered. “What the hell does that mean? Unless he thinks you're just going to wait to find them until the moon rises and you can track them by scent...”
“Which isn't going to happen,” Mary said, almost stumbling in her haste to reach the bottom of the stairs but catching herself quickly.
They reached the ground floor. “Speaking of that,” Marshall said, “I know we're a little pressed for time at the moment, but the wolfsbane--”
“We can't wait for you to get it ready, Marshall,” she interrupted, sighing. “Jesus! We just don't have time.” How the hell is this not going to end up being a disaster to end all disasters? She couldn't keep herself from picturing a group of wolves - herself and Laurel among them - wreaking havoc on the Albuquerque suburbs.
“You don't have to wait,” Marshall announced smugly. “It's in my car.”
Too relieved to be irritated at him, Mary just glared and said, “I hope you have enough for a party, then, because we might end up needing it all.”
Marshall just went to his car and pulled out a large plastic bag. “You'll need to eat at least three, by my calculations - although I'm sure that won't be a problem for you.”
“Three what?” she demanded, raising an eyebrow. “Marshall, did you make wolfsbane brownies or something?”
Still looking smug, he shook his head. “Nope. Even better, if I do say so myself.”
She snatched the bag from him, unrolled it, and then looked up at her partner in amazement. “Oh my God. Cupcakes? Red velvet?” She quickly opened the plastic container inside the bag. The scent that rose from inside was intoxicating, and Mary had pulled one out and started to eat it before she even thought of a possible issue. “And the baking process didn't do anything to the effectiveness of the plant, right?”
As always, Marshall appeared less than impressed by her talking with her mouth full, but he did say, “As far as can be determined through research, it does not affect the potency of the plant, no.”
“Good,” she mumbled, taking another bite of the confection. “I don't taste anything different in it, either.”
“You can eat your other two on the way,” Marshall advised. “I'll meet you there.”
She waved a hand in agreement and made her way speedily to her car. He was right: she wasn't going to have any trouble finishing the rest of the cupcakes allotted to her. Assuming they were able to find Laurel before it was too late for another month, the girl couldn't possibly find it hard to eat hers, either.
~
When they arrived at Marshall's house, Mary tried not to be distracted from the issue at hand by the fact that she was still carrying a container of cupcakes as she got out of her car. It was getting dark, and it wouldn't be too much longer before the moon started to rise - so the sooner she and Marshall located Laurel and got her to safety, the better.
“Could've used some silver bullets this time,” she muttered to Marshall, when he joined her in front of his house.
He nodded as he took out his weapon. “In this situation, I certainly wouldn't have minded the extra precaution.”
They approached the front steps with caution, both of them noting the open door and lights on inside. “Laurel?” Mary called as she entered, not really expecting a response.
The house remained silent. Marshall followed her after checking to be sure no one was behind them, and between the two of them, they made quick work of searching each room. There was a broken glass on the floor of the kitchen, but no other signs of a struggle - and no obvious signs that anyone else had been there.
“Well, this is not good.” Marshall sighed in frustration. “I guess I'll call Stan and tell him to hold off on the cavalry but send out some more investigators - that is, unless you're getting any special werewolf vibes from anything.”
She glared at him without much venom. “No. I'm not. But let's wait until we check outside, just on the off-chance there's anything even remotely useful to be found.”
“Okay,” Marshall said reluctantly, “but the clock is ticking.”
At this statement of the obvious, she did give him a scornful look before stalking outside. Just seconds after beginning the search in his yard, though, Mary froze as her gaze was drawn to the dark figure across the street. She had the same bizarre feeling she'd had upon first seeing Laurel, although it was less intense. “Marshall,” she almost whispered, “I think I'm changing my mind about the werewolf vibe thing.”
He followed her gaze. “So ... is that one of the pack, then?”
It felt crazy to her, this certainty - she couldn't even see the guy clearly in the fading daylight - but Mary nodded. “Yeah. I'm guessing he's expecting me to follow him.”
Marshall took out his phone again.
“What are you going to tell Stan?” Mary asked, still watching the guy across the street. “Because I was just thinking, by the time backup gets here, they'll be facing down werewolves, not just your ordinary criminals.”
Marshall paused for a moment before replying, “I'll tell him the witness is missing, the suspect wants us to follow him right now or the deal is off, and warn him that there have been sightings of vicious dogs in the area.”
“Okay.” Mary started forward, only to be halted by Marshall's grip on her arm as he made the call to Stan. She turned around in shock and anger and tried to break his grip, but he tightened it. Though his voice was calm as he spoke to their boss, his face was set. If she tried a little harder, she could break his hold, she knew. Instead, she swore under her breath and waited, her anger growing. At some level, she was aware of Stan's heated reply to Marshall, though she couldn't distinguish the words.
As soon as he hung up, he let go of her arm. “Did you think you'd be following this maniac by yourself?” he demanded in low, irate tones. “Because I have a few problems with that idea.”
“And I have a few problems with you coming along,” hissed Mary, just as furious. “We have a little less than half an hour before the moon rises. I've already been bitten, and this Roman loser thinks I need to join his pack, so he's not going to attack me. But you might as well drape yourself in cold cuts and walk into a lion's den, idiot!”
Marshall opened his mouth to reply. Then he shook his head. “We don't have time for this. Suffice it to say, you need someone to watch your back. I'm your partner and I'm going with you. End of story. You can tell me what a moron you think I am later - and I'll do the same for you.”
Mary noted the determination and anger still very evident in him, and then looked away. Damn it, Marshall, she thought, with a mixture of fear and gratitude. “If you end up getting partially eaten, I'm going to shoot you myself,” Mary warned.
“Fair enough.”
The two of them crossed the street. When they were within a yard of the waiting pack member - close enough for them to see that it wasn't Roman, but his second-in-command Mitch - the man sneered at them. “Nice of you to bring dinner along, Mary,” he said, gesturing to Marshall.
Mary swallowed hard against the cold flash of terror and revulsion his comment produced. “Where's Laurel?” she demanded.
“I'll take you to her,” Mitch replied easily. “And don't worry, she's fine. We wouldn't hurt our sister, even when she makes mistakes.”
Mary suppressed a shudder. Cult mentality like that always gave her the creeps. “Good to hear that you're so understanding,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. She was fleetingly glad that she'd picked up a shoulder bag from her house in which she'd put the remaining cupcakes; she wanted to be able to have both of her hands free as much as possible for however this encounter went down.
Mitch didn't continue the conversation. Instead, he turned around and broke into a loping run. The two marshals hurried to match his pace.
It wasn't long before Mitch had led them out of Mary's neighborhood. They kept going for what had to be at least ten more minutes (Mary did her best not to panic at the passage of time) before he stopped in front of a large house with two women lounging on the front porch swing. The porch light revealed them to be the women from Laurel's description of her pack mates.
“You brought her,” one of them said, standing up and pushing her long, tangled black hair behind her ears. “And someone extra, too.” Her eyes traveled over Marshall before returning to Mary with frank curiosity.
“Go get Roman, Tia,” Mitch said, with the air of one used to being obeyed. “And Adele, you can go inside and keep watch on Laurel to make sure she doesn't do anything foolish.”
The women went inside, with many backward glances at Mary and Marshall as they did so. Mitch, meanwhile, sat down on the vacated porch swing, apparently having no inclination to talk while he waited.
Mary glanced at the sky, feeling her resolve not to panic weakening. Though of course she wouldn't admit it in a million years, it was pretty much only Marshall standing beside her that kept her from snapping and doing something “foolish”, as Mitch might say.
Some interminable time later, Roman finally appeared at the screen door. He was of average height and dark-haired, as his sketch had shown him to be, and might have been good looking except for the arrogance and sliminess that Mary could sense practically oozing from him. He caught her eyes and smiled widely, showing gleaming white teeth. “Mary. How nice of you to drop by - and with a friend, too. Why don't you both come on in?”
Making sure her hand was ready at her holster, Mary walked inside, with Marshall close behind her. “Wow,” she said, eyebrows raised as she looked around at the nice, stylish décor that was spoiled by the empty beer cans and garbage strewn around, “I love what you've done with the place, Roman. Very Southern Living meets frat party.” Beside her, Marshall chuckled.
Roman shrugged. “To be honest, we were just crashing here until we found our wayward sister Laurel. Our hosts are out on vacation at the moment.”
“You mean you broke into these people's house,” Marshall interpreted dryly, “and you're just squatting here illegally.”
Regarding Marshall through narrowed eyes, Roman closed the distance between them. “I don't think we've been introduced,” he said.
“No, we haven't,” Marshall agreed, apparently unruffled by the hostility that the three werewolf pack members in the room were directing at him.
“He's my partner,” Mary put in tersely. She gave Marshall a look that, she hoped, clearly communicated, Don't provoke the crazy werewolf cult leader. “Now can we move on to what we came here for? Where's Laurel?”
Roman smiled again, and it was even more predatory than his first one. “I can't see that there's any rush. You can join her - and the rest of us - in about fifteen minutes, when the moon has reached the right height in the sky.”
From behind the two marshals, Mitch spoke up. “Although your partner there might have a little bit of a problem when that happens, right, Roman?”
“Possibly,” Roman said with another shrug, still grinning, “but he won't be in trouble for too long.”
Mary was ninety-nine percent sure she'd never wanted to shoot anyone as much as she wanted to shoot Roman and his crew right now. Again, it was only Marshall gently touching her on the arm - as well as the knowledge that Laurel was still under guard in some other room in the house - that restrained her. Instead she took a breath and then shrugged, herself. “Well, he may not be 'one of our kind', but Marshall can hold his own,” she remarked. “In spite of appearances.”
“Oh, thank you very much,” Marshall said sarcastically. “Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.”
Roman sat down on the couch, now appraising them both with less amusement. “We'll see, I suppose, but if you really care about your partner at all, Mary, you should convince him to leave before it's too late. I'm sure you would be very unhappy to discover tomorrow that you'd had a part in his death.” He leaned forward. “But if he's gone, we all can find something else to hunt. You know this area pretty well, so maybe you'll find it for us.”
Mary scoffed. “You keep talking like you think I actually want to be part of your little wolf family.”
Raising his eyebrows, Roman asked, “Do you think you have a choice?”
“I deal with more than my fill of dysfunctional family life already, thanks,” she replied. “And yes, I do think I have a choice.” She glanced out the window and muttered, “Hell, even if I do transform, there'll be enough of me left to recognize you and your lackeys for the total jackass losers that you are.”
Tia looked scandalized and furious, but Roman just put a hand to his chin “'If'?”
There was a sudden commotion from the back room, and the other woman in the pack (Adele, Mary remembered) shouted, “Roman! She's trying to make a break for it! I don't know if I can hold her!” Then she cried out.
Roman was on his feet in an instant, and the rest of his pack fell in behind him. Mary exchanged a glance with Marshall. Before any of them had made it into the other room, both marshals had drawn their weapons, and the pack members froze at the sound of the guns being cocked.
“Let her go,” Mary ordered. She raised her voice and added, “Laurel, get out of here and get back to my house if you can. Lock all the doors and stay inside. That way you can stay safe, and keep other people safe as well.”
Laurel made no response, and Adele was also quiet. Mary heard nothing except the sound of her own breathing and her heart pounding for several seconds.
Then Roman turned around slowly, the predatory smile back on his face. “I don't think she heard you, Mary,” he said, starting to breathe heavily. “A little too much on her mind at the moment.”
As one, the three werewolves turned toward the window, where the full moon was visible through the glass. Oh, sweet Jesus! Mary shot one horror-stricken look at Marshall before the gun fell out of her hands and she doubled over from the searing pain in her stomach.
~
Rating, summary, disclaimer, etc. same as in part 5.
Author's Note: Many thanks to kaffyr and pipisafoat.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
~
Chapter 6
August 24
Mary was on edge again. It wasn't just because of the day and because it was getting toward evening - she hadn't heard from Laurel all day today, and the girl hadn't answered the phone when Mary had called Marshall's home number. She had specifically told Laurel she'd be calling in to check on her a couple of times if Laurel didn't call herself.
Marshall looked over. “She still hasn't called?” he inquired, looking anxious when she shook her head.
“I've got a really bad feeling about this,” Mary muttered. She pointed at Marshall sharply. “And don't you start quoting Star Wars at me. Really not in the mood right now.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Would I be so frivolous under these circumstances?”
Mary looked at her phone and frowned again, tapping her fingers on her desk. If she ran out of here again, Marshall would follow, and there was no way Stan wouldn't notice the fact that they had once again both left in a major hurry, so soon after the last disaster. (Marshall had managed to spin a tale of one of Mary's witness's kids having a minor run-in with a bully at school which had at least mostly convinced Stan four days ago, but Mary thought there was a high chance that wouldn't work a second time.)
She had just attempted to turn her attention back to the paperwork in front of her when her cell phone rang. “Finally,” she said under her breath as she answered. “This is Mary.”
“Oh, it is, is it?” a drawling, unfamiliar male voice said, sounding pleased. “Good. I'm very glad I was able to reach you. I've heard a lot about you.”
Mary sat up straight in her chair, motioning urgently to Marshall. “And who the hell is this?”
“I bet you can figure it out,” the man replied. “Laurel tells me you're very intelligent.”
Marshall was looking at her in concern. He gestured to the phone and mouthed, “Who?”
Taking a deep breath, Mary tried to ignore the pounding of her heart as she said, “All right, Roman. Where are you - and where's Laurel?”
“Start from where she was, Miss Shannon,” Roman answered. “If you're one of our kind, you'll be able to find us from there.” The call ended.
“That was Roman?” Marshall asked. He was on his feet.
She nodded, rubbing a hand across her face. I do not need this right now, she thought, aware that it was selfish. But with the pressure of the impending moonrise already weighing on her, the last thing she needed was to have to deal with this Roman and his pack of lunatics. She hadn't even had a chance to get the wolfsbane from Marshall yet; he had suggested one dose with dinner, which they were going to have together at his house.
Marshall's face was grim. “Mary,” he said quietly, as they both began gathering up their things, “I think now might be the time to get some backup.”
He had a point. Mary glanced at him and then toward Stan's office. Their boss appeared to be on the phone at the moment. She saw Charlie walking by and called out, “Hey, Charlie, I need you to pass along a message to Stan after he gets through with his call.”
“Sure, Inspector Shannon,” Charlie said, taking out a pen and paper. “What's the message?”
Once again meeting Marshall's eye briefly, Mary tried to organize what she was going to say and what she was going to leave out. “Tell him that Marshall and I just intercepted some time-sensitive news that suggests that a wanted criminal is in the area and possibly after one of my witnesses. We're going to check on her, see if she's okay. If he doesn't hear back from us in the next half hour, send backup and a search team starting from Marshall's house.”
Charlie continued to write dutifully, though his eyes widened. “Inspector, are-- are you saying that you and Inspector Mann are going after this guy by yourselves right now?”
Mary picked up her phone and started toward the door.
“All right, can you at least tell me who the criminal is?” Charlie called after them in desperation.
“First name is Roman, last name unknown,” Marshall answered over his shoulder as he caught up to Mary. “There's an APB from the Nevada State Patrol with the rest of his info.”
“But, Inspectors, you have--”
The door shut behind them, cutting off Charlie's protest. “There, you happy?” Mary said to her partner. “At least Stan will have some idea of what's going on.”
“Yeah, I guess that works for now,” Marshall replied as they started down the stairs (they couldn't afford to wait for the elevator). “So Roman said he's at my house?”
She shook her head. “He said he was at your house,” she informed him, wondering with a surge of guilt what kind of destruction they would find when they got there, “and that I should be able to find Laurel and him from there if I'm really 'one of his kind'.”
Marshall was bewildered. “What the hell does that mean? Unless he thinks you're just going to wait to find them until the moon rises and you can track them by scent...”
“Which isn't going to happen,” Mary said, almost stumbling in her haste to reach the bottom of the stairs but catching herself quickly.
They reached the ground floor. “Speaking of that,” Marshall said, “I know we're a little pressed for time at the moment, but the wolfsbane--”
“We can't wait for you to get it ready, Marshall,” she interrupted, sighing. “Jesus! We just don't have time.” How the hell is this not going to end up being a disaster to end all disasters? She couldn't keep herself from picturing a group of wolves - herself and Laurel among them - wreaking havoc on the Albuquerque suburbs.
“You don't have to wait,” Marshall announced smugly. “It's in my car.”
Too relieved to be irritated at him, Mary just glared and said, “I hope you have enough for a party, then, because we might end up needing it all.”
Marshall just went to his car and pulled out a large plastic bag. “You'll need to eat at least three, by my calculations - although I'm sure that won't be a problem for you.”
“Three what?” she demanded, raising an eyebrow. “Marshall, did you make wolfsbane brownies or something?”
Still looking smug, he shook his head. “Nope. Even better, if I do say so myself.”
She snatched the bag from him, unrolled it, and then looked up at her partner in amazement. “Oh my God. Cupcakes? Red velvet?” She quickly opened the plastic container inside the bag. The scent that rose from inside was intoxicating, and Mary had pulled one out and started to eat it before she even thought of a possible issue. “And the baking process didn't do anything to the effectiveness of the plant, right?”
As always, Marshall appeared less than impressed by her talking with her mouth full, but he did say, “As far as can be determined through research, it does not affect the potency of the plant, no.”
“Good,” she mumbled, taking another bite of the confection. “I don't taste anything different in it, either.”
“You can eat your other two on the way,” Marshall advised. “I'll meet you there.”
She waved a hand in agreement and made her way speedily to her car. He was right: she wasn't going to have any trouble finishing the rest of the cupcakes allotted to her. Assuming they were able to find Laurel before it was too late for another month, the girl couldn't possibly find it hard to eat hers, either.
~
When they arrived at Marshall's house, Mary tried not to be distracted from the issue at hand by the fact that she was still carrying a container of cupcakes as she got out of her car. It was getting dark, and it wouldn't be too much longer before the moon started to rise - so the sooner she and Marshall located Laurel and got her to safety, the better.
“Could've used some silver bullets this time,” she muttered to Marshall, when he joined her in front of his house.
He nodded as he took out his weapon. “In this situation, I certainly wouldn't have minded the extra precaution.”
They approached the front steps with caution, both of them noting the open door and lights on inside. “Laurel?” Mary called as she entered, not really expecting a response.
The house remained silent. Marshall followed her after checking to be sure no one was behind them, and between the two of them, they made quick work of searching each room. There was a broken glass on the floor of the kitchen, but no other signs of a struggle - and no obvious signs that anyone else had been there.
“Well, this is not good.” Marshall sighed in frustration. “I guess I'll call Stan and tell him to hold off on the cavalry but send out some more investigators - that is, unless you're getting any special werewolf vibes from anything.”
She glared at him without much venom. “No. I'm not. But let's wait until we check outside, just on the off-chance there's anything even remotely useful to be found.”
“Okay,” Marshall said reluctantly, “but the clock is ticking.”
At this statement of the obvious, she did give him a scornful look before stalking outside. Just seconds after beginning the search in his yard, though, Mary froze as her gaze was drawn to the dark figure across the street. She had the same bizarre feeling she'd had upon first seeing Laurel, although it was less intense. “Marshall,” she almost whispered, “I think I'm changing my mind about the werewolf vibe thing.”
He followed her gaze. “So ... is that one of the pack, then?”
It felt crazy to her, this certainty - she couldn't even see the guy clearly in the fading daylight - but Mary nodded. “Yeah. I'm guessing he's expecting me to follow him.”
Marshall took out his phone again.
“What are you going to tell Stan?” Mary asked, still watching the guy across the street. “Because I was just thinking, by the time backup gets here, they'll be facing down werewolves, not just your ordinary criminals.”
Marshall paused for a moment before replying, “I'll tell him the witness is missing, the suspect wants us to follow him right now or the deal is off, and warn him that there have been sightings of vicious dogs in the area.”
“Okay.” Mary started forward, only to be halted by Marshall's grip on her arm as he made the call to Stan. She turned around in shock and anger and tried to break his grip, but he tightened it. Though his voice was calm as he spoke to their boss, his face was set. If she tried a little harder, she could break his hold, she knew. Instead, she swore under her breath and waited, her anger growing. At some level, she was aware of Stan's heated reply to Marshall, though she couldn't distinguish the words.
As soon as he hung up, he let go of her arm. “Did you think you'd be following this maniac by yourself?” he demanded in low, irate tones. “Because I have a few problems with that idea.”
“And I have a few problems with you coming along,” hissed Mary, just as furious. “We have a little less than half an hour before the moon rises. I've already been bitten, and this Roman loser thinks I need to join his pack, so he's not going to attack me. But you might as well drape yourself in cold cuts and walk into a lion's den, idiot!”
Marshall opened his mouth to reply. Then he shook his head. “We don't have time for this. Suffice it to say, you need someone to watch your back. I'm your partner and I'm going with you. End of story. You can tell me what a moron you think I am later - and I'll do the same for you.”
Mary noted the determination and anger still very evident in him, and then looked away. Damn it, Marshall, she thought, with a mixture of fear and gratitude. “If you end up getting partially eaten, I'm going to shoot you myself,” Mary warned.
“Fair enough.”
The two of them crossed the street. When they were within a yard of the waiting pack member - close enough for them to see that it wasn't Roman, but his second-in-command Mitch - the man sneered at them. “Nice of you to bring dinner along, Mary,” he said, gesturing to Marshall.
Mary swallowed hard against the cold flash of terror and revulsion his comment produced. “Where's Laurel?” she demanded.
“I'll take you to her,” Mitch replied easily. “And don't worry, she's fine. We wouldn't hurt our sister, even when she makes mistakes.”
Mary suppressed a shudder. Cult mentality like that always gave her the creeps. “Good to hear that you're so understanding,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. She was fleetingly glad that she'd picked up a shoulder bag from her house in which she'd put the remaining cupcakes; she wanted to be able to have both of her hands free as much as possible for however this encounter went down.
Mitch didn't continue the conversation. Instead, he turned around and broke into a loping run. The two marshals hurried to match his pace.
It wasn't long before Mitch had led them out of Mary's neighborhood. They kept going for what had to be at least ten more minutes (Mary did her best not to panic at the passage of time) before he stopped in front of a large house with two women lounging on the front porch swing. The porch light revealed them to be the women from Laurel's description of her pack mates.
“You brought her,” one of them said, standing up and pushing her long, tangled black hair behind her ears. “And someone extra, too.” Her eyes traveled over Marshall before returning to Mary with frank curiosity.
“Go get Roman, Tia,” Mitch said, with the air of one used to being obeyed. “And Adele, you can go inside and keep watch on Laurel to make sure she doesn't do anything foolish.”
The women went inside, with many backward glances at Mary and Marshall as they did so. Mitch, meanwhile, sat down on the vacated porch swing, apparently having no inclination to talk while he waited.
Mary glanced at the sky, feeling her resolve not to panic weakening. Though of course she wouldn't admit it in a million years, it was pretty much only Marshall standing beside her that kept her from snapping and doing something “foolish”, as Mitch might say.
Some interminable time later, Roman finally appeared at the screen door. He was of average height and dark-haired, as his sketch had shown him to be, and might have been good looking except for the arrogance and sliminess that Mary could sense practically oozing from him. He caught her eyes and smiled widely, showing gleaming white teeth. “Mary. How nice of you to drop by - and with a friend, too. Why don't you both come on in?”
Making sure her hand was ready at her holster, Mary walked inside, with Marshall close behind her. “Wow,” she said, eyebrows raised as she looked around at the nice, stylish décor that was spoiled by the empty beer cans and garbage strewn around, “I love what you've done with the place, Roman. Very Southern Living meets frat party.” Beside her, Marshall chuckled.
Roman shrugged. “To be honest, we were just crashing here until we found our wayward sister Laurel. Our hosts are out on vacation at the moment.”
“You mean you broke into these people's house,” Marshall interpreted dryly, “and you're just squatting here illegally.”
Regarding Marshall through narrowed eyes, Roman closed the distance between them. “I don't think we've been introduced,” he said.
“No, we haven't,” Marshall agreed, apparently unruffled by the hostility that the three werewolf pack members in the room were directing at him.
“He's my partner,” Mary put in tersely. She gave Marshall a look that, she hoped, clearly communicated, Don't provoke the crazy werewolf cult leader. “Now can we move on to what we came here for? Where's Laurel?”
Roman smiled again, and it was even more predatory than his first one. “I can't see that there's any rush. You can join her - and the rest of us - in about fifteen minutes, when the moon has reached the right height in the sky.”
From behind the two marshals, Mitch spoke up. “Although your partner there might have a little bit of a problem when that happens, right, Roman?”
“Possibly,” Roman said with another shrug, still grinning, “but he won't be in trouble for too long.”
Mary was ninety-nine percent sure she'd never wanted to shoot anyone as much as she wanted to shoot Roman and his crew right now. Again, it was only Marshall gently touching her on the arm - as well as the knowledge that Laurel was still under guard in some other room in the house - that restrained her. Instead she took a breath and then shrugged, herself. “Well, he may not be 'one of our kind', but Marshall can hold his own,” she remarked. “In spite of appearances.”
“Oh, thank you very much,” Marshall said sarcastically. “Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.”
Roman sat down on the couch, now appraising them both with less amusement. “We'll see, I suppose, but if you really care about your partner at all, Mary, you should convince him to leave before it's too late. I'm sure you would be very unhappy to discover tomorrow that you'd had a part in his death.” He leaned forward. “But if he's gone, we all can find something else to hunt. You know this area pretty well, so maybe you'll find it for us.”
Mary scoffed. “You keep talking like you think I actually want to be part of your little wolf family.”
Raising his eyebrows, Roman asked, “Do you think you have a choice?”
“I deal with more than my fill of dysfunctional family life already, thanks,” she replied. “And yes, I do think I have a choice.” She glanced out the window and muttered, “Hell, even if I do transform, there'll be enough of me left to recognize you and your lackeys for the total jackass losers that you are.”
Tia looked scandalized and furious, but Roman just put a hand to his chin “'If'?”
There was a sudden commotion from the back room, and the other woman in the pack (Adele, Mary remembered) shouted, “Roman! She's trying to make a break for it! I don't know if I can hold her!” Then she cried out.
Roman was on his feet in an instant, and the rest of his pack fell in behind him. Mary exchanged a glance with Marshall. Before any of them had made it into the other room, both marshals had drawn their weapons, and the pack members froze at the sound of the guns being cocked.
“Let her go,” Mary ordered. She raised her voice and added, “Laurel, get out of here and get back to my house if you can. Lock all the doors and stay inside. That way you can stay safe, and keep other people safe as well.”
Laurel made no response, and Adele was also quiet. Mary heard nothing except the sound of her own breathing and her heart pounding for several seconds.
Then Roman turned around slowly, the predatory smile back on his face. “I don't think she heard you, Mary,” he said, starting to breathe heavily. “A little too much on her mind at the moment.”
As one, the three werewolves turned toward the window, where the full moon was visible through the glass. Oh, sweet Jesus! Mary shot one horror-stricken look at Marshall before the gun fell out of her hands and she doubled over from the searing pain in her stomach.
~