Poison Fruit - Page 37/149

Atop the incline, the woods gave way to another clearing surrounded by outlying buildings. In the center was a jungle gym made of plastic timbers and wide tubes that looked surprisingly sinister in the darkness. Anything could be lurking in those seemingly innocuous tubes. With my right hand, I reassured myself that dauda-dagr was secure in the sheath I wore belted around my waist.

Standing in the clearing, Cody turned his head this way and that, testing the air. “It’s been here,” he said. “A lot. But I can’t tell which scent trail is fresh.” He gave me an apologetic look. “I’m going to have to shift to track it, Daisy.”

“A wolf’s gotta do what a wolf’s gotta do,” I said. “Just try to remember that if you plunge into the woods, I’m going to have a hard time following you.”

“I’ll try.” He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to me. “Here, put this on. You might as well stay warm. Be careful—the keys to the truck are in the right-hand pocket.”

“Duly noted,” I said. “And thanks.”

Cody’s jacket retained the warmth of his body and a trace of his scent, pine and musk and Polo. Engulfed in it, I watched him undress with unself-conscious efficiency, removing his off-duty shoulder holster and his Timberland boots, folding his clothing, and setting it alongside the flashlight on a rough-hewn wooden bench the Presbyterians had thoughtfully provided in the vicinity of the jungle gym.

For a moment, his naked human body was pale and luminous in my night vision, his skin stippled with gooseflesh.

Then he shifted.

It happened in the blink of an eye, one form flowing into another. Cody’s wolf form was long-limbed and rangy, with tawny gray fur and alert amber eyes filled with inhuman intelligence. I’m not saying it was animal intelligence, not exactly, but it definitely wasn’t human. Cody-the-human and Cody-the-wolf overlapped, but they weren’t the same being.

“You know, you’re the reason we can’t be together,” I said to the wolf. It cocked its head at me, ears pricked. “No offense. I know it’s not your fault. I’m just saying.”

The wolf merely continued to regard me.

I sighed. “Go on. Go hunt the bogle.”

It turned and trotted into the darkness, muzzle low to the ground.

Let me tell you, it is not easy to follow a hunting wolf, night vision or not. I did my best, stumbling after the Cody-wolf on the frozen ground he seemed to glide over with effortless ease, trying to ignore the ominous creaking trees as the wolf made a circuit of this particular area of the camp.

I caught up with the wolf on the verge of a dense thicket where he’d paused to stare into the darkness. I was sure he was about to go where I’d have a hell of a time following, but to my surprise, he sniffed the ground, then turned and headed back toward the camp at that deceptively speedy trot.

The wolf made a beeline for a building with a wooden sign in the front reading MESS HALL, halting in front of the door.

“You’re sure about that?” I said dubiously. “Ellie said the bogle’s haunt was in the woods.”

Raising one paw, the wolf scratched at the door.

“Okay, okay.” I turned the doorknob and found it locked. “Looks like a pretty old door,” I said to the wolf. “Let’s try the credit card trick.”

I didn’t have a credit card on me, but I had my police ID card. The Cody-wolf obligingly got out of my way, sitting on its haunches on the cold ground behind me, panting softly and watching with its tongue lolling while I slid my ID card between the door and the frame and wiggled it in an effort to jimmy the lock. I was so focused on the task at hand, I forgot to be apprehensive about what I might find on the other side.

“I think I’ve almost—”

With a jerk, the door swung abruptly inward.

I let out a shriek as a tall black figure with eyes like molten lava, pointy, misshapen features, and bony hands the size of catcher’s mitts lunged at me, teeth bared. I flung up a shield at the same time I hurled myself backward, tripping over the wolf and falling hard on my back on the frozen earth, knocking the wind out of me.

The Cody-wolf growled and launched itself at the figure, which staggered backward into the mess hall under the impact.

Oh, crap.

I got to my hands and knees, lungs working in a futile effort to draw breath. The sounds of battle inside the mess hall didn’t bode well. Concentrating, I willed my diaphragm to unspasm.

It worked well enough that I was able to get to my feet and stumble into the mess hall after the wolf and the bogle. Sure enough, they were locked in combat. The bogle was on its back, long-fingered hands with too many knuckles and sharp black nails clamped around the wolf’s throat. The wolf snarled and snapped, its muzzle inches from the bogle’s face.

“Cody!” I wheezed. “Down, boy! We need to question him!”

The wolf ignored me, continuing its efforts to lunge forward and tear out the bogle’s throat.

On the floor of the mess hall, the bogle rolled its molten-lava eyes at me. “You brought a werewolf?” he said. “Dude, that’s a little extreme.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you scared the ever-loving crap out of me,” I retorted. “Cody, please! Back off!”

“Hey, you’re the one trying to break into my crib.” The bogle’s long, sticklike arms were beginning to tremble. “A little help?”

Straddling them both, I wrapped my arms around the wolf’s lean torso, planted my heels, and hauled with all my strength. The wolf squirmed out of my grip with terrifying strength and agility, turning on me with a savage growl as I fell backward.