“We got a bug guy back at HQ. I’ll give you a call when he sorts it out.” Luther pondered the corpse. “The cross-phylum metamorphosis bothers me.”
It bothered me, too.
The sketch artist waved his sketchbook. “Done.”
“Okay, mates,” Luther called. “Bag it, tag it, and chain it up.”
The crew began rolling out plastic.
“Hey, Luther,” I said. “You guys didn’t hire any new ghouls, did you?”
Luther spun to me, his eyes focused, like a shark sensing a drop of blood in the water. “You know something. Tell me.”
“The Pack scouts found a lot of dead ghouls on a road to the east,” Curran said. “We had breakfast with the Beast Lord and he mentioned it.”
Luther pondered him. “Sure, I’ll buy that. Oh wait, I have a brain. Sorry, completely forgot. The ghouls were found in pieces. Someone ripped them apart with claws and cut them to pieces with a sword. And here the two of you are, one has claws and the other has a sword.”
“We’re not the only people in the city with swords and claws,” Curran said.
Luther squinted at us. “What are you two up to?”
“Right now, nothing,” I said.
“I don’t believe you.”
Derek jogged up the street. He wore a gray hoodie and a pair of old jeans, and he was running in that particular wolf gait that looked unhurried but devoured miles. Nineteen, just under six feet, with dark hair and a muscular athletic body, Derek turned heads. Then people saw his face. A couple of years ago he tried to save a girl. The creatures who owned her caught him and poured molten metal on his face. He recovered, but his face looked different now. His features were rougher, their once-handsome perfection gone. His eyes made it worse. They were dark and hard, the kind of eyes that belonged to someone older, someone who’d been through the grinder of pain and suffering and come out of it damaged but unbroken. He leaned against our Jeep and slouched.
“Fine,” I said. “We have a missing shapeshifter and we’re trying to find him. We could use some help.”
Luther held up his hand. “Stop right there. Shapeshifters are Pack business. Unless they request our help in writing, I can’t do anything. I don’t even want to hear it.”
What a surprise. Hold me before my heart gives out from the pure shock of that surprise. “Wow, so nice of you to care.”
“The Beast Lord is an asshole,” Luther said. “I’ve dealt with his representatives before, and let me tell you, I don’t want to piss him off.”
I really wanted to look at Curran’s face, but I would have to turn and it would seem odd. “Tell me about the ghouls, Luther.”
“I can neither confirm nor deny.”
Seriously? “It’s a matter of public record. I can go down to City Hall and spend three hours digging through the Biohazard disclosures or you could just tell me. If I have to waste all that time, I’ll be irritated.”
Luther leaned back. “Be still my heart. And I suppose I should be terrified of that?”
“No, just pointing out that I don’t like to share when I’m irritated. You want to know why a horde of ghouls tried to enter the city. We also want to know why that happened. We will eventually figure this out and then we can take it to you or to your former bosses at PAD.”
He sighed. “No, we didn’t hire any new ghouls.”
“Have you talked to Mitchell?” I asked.
“He doesn’t want to talk.” Luther grimaced. “Something is going on with him.”
“He may talk to me.”
“That’s true.” Luther sighed again. “I tell you what, I’ll let you see Mitchell, but if he talks to you, you tell me what he said. I want to know what’s happening to him.”
“Deal.” I’d be an idiot not to take it. “Tonight.”
“No, tomorrow night. We fed him last night. He’s sleeping it off.”
Mitchell didn’t like the outside. He hid in his burrow most of the time, and getting him out of it after he ate would be impossible. I had tried before and gotten nowhere. “I’ll take tomorrow then.”
“Good. We’re done here, you are released, shoo, go, scram. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, kids.”
I started toward the cars.
“Wait,” Luther called.
“Yes?”
He trotted over to me. “Does the city feel different to you?”
“Different how?”