I awoke to the reek of piss and a foul wetness on my face, which was unusual in and of itself, but I also hurt. It felt like every pore on my body was on fire. That I was accustomed to, unfortunately. I cracked my eyelids, peering through my lashes, as I took in my surroundings. It was dawn, absolutely fantastic, and I was lying next to a dumpster, even better. A partially consumed rat lay a few inches from my face which explained the foul taste in my mouth. Harsh, shallow breaths escaped my clenched jaws until the pain radiating across my skin started to subside. I was entering the pins and needles stage which meant it was almost over. I curled on my side with my back against the garbage and waited until the tingling left my limbs. With its absence clarity reappeared.
Above the smell of piss and trash, I caught another scent, one that I recognized, and instantly felt better. I eased to my feet and looked down taking stock of my naked body. No bruises or cuts, it was always that way, even though a meat grinder while messier, would have caused less pain. I could hear Angel's heart calming and knew she would be up in another minute so I waited with the sun slanting down on me from the east and hoped fervently that nobody felt like taking out the garbage. I could only imagine trying to explain two naked people that looked a little worse for the wear to any humans.
I listened as Angel's breathing evened out and she uncurled herself from behind the dumpster.
"Morning sunshine," I looked at her as she straightened and rubbed her arms.
She glared at me out of the corner of her eye, "Where the hell are we?" Unfortunately, her sense of navigation never fully matured and while her tracking skills were unparalleled, she never knew where she was.
I glanced around again, sniffing the air as I did, taking in the mingled scents of raw fish, gelato and from across the street the smell of garlic and pesto, and said "We're behind the sushi bar at 32nd and Camelback, which isn't a good thing because we're about twenty miles from home."
"Hey, you're the one that was all gung ho for this hunt, not me. I was completely content to stay home last night, but, no. 'This one is dangerous, Damon. We need to take him down now, Damon.'" she mimicked in a low pitched voice. "Remember that?" Her ice blue eyes scanned the alley uncertainly, "Um... speaking of which, how did we lose him? I thought we finally had him pinned down out behind Hazelwoods, and then the scent was just gone."
"I don't know. It's the damnedest thing I have seen in a long time. We'll ask Damon and see what he has to say. For now, we need a phone, and cover until they can get here to pick us up. I am pretty sure there is a payphone in front of this strip mall, so stay here until I get back."
I walked to the edge of the building closest to the street and peeked around the corner. All I needed was to be picked up for indecent exposure. It was empty and I couldn't hear any cars coming, so I loped around the building and there was the payphone I remembered. I dialed 0 and got the operator to place a collect call back to the house.
"'Ello," a gruff voice mumbled on the other end.
"Odin, 32nd street and Camelback, behind the sushi bar, and bring clothes for Angel and me. Hurry up, I think we have a problem." I said.
"Gimme fifteen," he said and hung up.
I hurried back to the alley and found Angel pulling wet paper from her silver hair. The smallest of my litter mates, she also had the most unusual coloring of us all. Our parents affectionately call her the throwback. Pale, almost translucent skin wrapped around a 5 inch frame, made for a striking combination with her pale blue eyes and hair. Her petite packaging hid a ruthless interior though and many underestimated her, fooled by her size and ethereal beauty into thinking she was only good for a quick lay. How any could mistake her for vulnerable and flighty was completely beyond me, even though I had known her my whole life. She absolutely vibrated with assurance and confidence, but right now that vibrancy was a looking a bit faded from the events of last night.
"I still don't understand it. How can anyone just disappear like that? I have never lost a scent like that before, and this reeked so bad, I am surprised anyone near him didn't drop dead from proximity to his b. o. Yuck, I mean couldn't you at least have picked one that smelled better?" she whined.
"It was the drugs Angel," I said patiently, as I gently pulled a piece of something I didn't want to look to closely at from her hair. "If he had gotten into a car, his scent would have dissipated some from the car disturbing the air as it drove off, but it was almost solid right up until it vanished."
We sat side by side in between the dumpster and the wall as we waited, both of us seriously in need of a hot shower and toothpaste, maybe a couple of doses of mouthwash as well. I hate the taste of rat, and can only claim exhaustion and the presence of easy prey after the hunt as an excuse. That we'd actually turned back behind a trash pile meant we'd overexerted ourselves, which also wasn't surprising considering the hunt began about 6 miles north of the den.
There were just too many questions without any answers. This whole mess started with a full page article in a tabloid. The main headline read:
WEREWOLVES: FANTASY NO LONGER
EVIDENCE HAS BEEN FOUND THAT PROVES THE EXISTENCE OF THESE CREATURES OF LEGEND
We were lucky in that the writer of the article included the name of his source. A little electronic tracking led us to Carefree where one Wendell Jackson resided. No one in the pack had ever seen or heard of him before. The others would have been going through Jackson's house while we were out hunting him down, looking for information and possible links to the pack. It was entirely possible that the article wasn't about us, but with his proximity to the den added to the fact that Circe was missing, too much was going on that didn't add up.
