Murder of Crows (23 page)

“So would Cyclone,” Water said. “And Whirlpool is here with us now.”

Monty shuddered. Lakeside was still recovering from the last storm. He didn’t want to think about what another one would do to the area.

“Won’t the flowers die if you summon a storm?” Meg asked, sounding worried.

The Elementals stared at her. Then Spring smiled, and the air in the room became warmer and fragrant. “A thin blanket of snow won’t harm what blooms in this part of my season. And wind cleans away the old to make way for the new.”

“And I’ll keep Cyclone and Whirlpool to the river,” Water said.

“We can fly with the storm at night, and let the Crows, Hawks, and humans on Great Island keep watch for the enemy during daylight hours,” Winter said.

Meg smiled. “That would be good. And then the cookies can drive the … Mr. Ferryman! He was going to talk to people in his village about making Wolf cookies.”

“Sounds like a container or two are heading our way,” Simon said.

“That leaves the scars and smoke,” Tess said. Black streaks suddenly appeared in her hair as she looked at Erebus Sanguinati, who returned her look.

“One of the Sanguinati died, didn’t he?” Meg said. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr. Erebus. Maybe if I’d made the cut sooner, I could have—”

“No.”
Erebus looked uneasy. “The sweet blood is both wondrous and terrible. It should not be shed lightly.”

“But it has to be shed,” she whispered.

“That is something for you to discuss with Simon,” Erebus said gently. Then he added reluctantly, “And with the human bodywalker.”

Lorenzo sucked in a breath, but that was the only indication he gave that he now understood how closely the Sanguinati watched Meg Corbyn.

Simon picked up the envelope again. He pulled out the photo and set it on the table. When Meg paled, he put an arm around her.

“Her designation was
cs783
,” Meg said.

“What was her name?” Simon asked.

“She didn’t have one. Didn’t want one. She … she wasn’t like Jean and me. She wanted someone to take care of her and she wanted to feel the euphoria when she was cut. That’s all she wanted. She
liked
being kept in the compound.” Meg shuddered. “Outside was nothing but the images she had to learn to describe the visions.”

“So she didn’t run away like you did?”

Meg shook her head.

No one spoke. No one moved. The Others waited with eerie patience.

“The Controller must have sold her,” Meg finally said. “Or sent her away for some reason.”

“You can guess the reason,” Simon said.

“She wasn’t … The Walking Names weren’t always careful about what they said around us. I heard them once when they were evaluating some of the girls. They said
cs783
’s prophecies were accurate but lacked range. She couldn’t see prophecies the way Jean can.”

“Or the way you can?”

Wolfgard was circling around what they had all originally come to discuss.

“It is time to talk about what happened yesterday morning,” Henry said. “Meg, what do you remember?”

“I had a bad dream, a terrible dream, and I woke up screaming because I was so afraid.” Meg said. “I was so afraid, but I didn’t know why, and I had to cut so I could see the danger. I should have called someone first—”

Simon growled.

“—but I couldn’t wait. It felt like my skin would split on its own, the need was so overwhelming.” She touched the side of her nose. “Like my skin split the night I dreamed about the blood and black feathers in the snow.”

“So you put a towel on the bathroom floor, laid down, and made a long cut,” Henry said.

“I don’t remember the towel or lying down. I don’t remember choosing where to cut. I felt so desperate, I just … cut. Then I tried to swallow the words and the pain because that’s the only way we can remember a prophecy.”

“Pain?” It was the first time Lorenzo spoke since the meeting began.

When Meg paled and seemed unable to reply, Simon said, “There is bad pain until the prophet begins to speak. There’s nothing but pain
unless
she speaks. That’s how the girls are punished—they’re cut and then prevented from speaking.”

Monty looked at Meg’s left arm, recalling the crosshatch of scars he’d seen when she’d been brought to the hospital.

“That confirms some of what I’ve been thinking,” Lorenzo said.

“What else, Meg?” Henry asked. “What happened after the cut?”

“Simon came, and he was Simon,” Meg said.

Simon looked uneasy. “What else would I be?”

“You were Simon, and then you
weren’t
Simon anymore. You turned soft and gooey.”

He jerked away from her. “I did not!”

“You did! You were fine, and then you licked—”

Erebus sprang to his feet, a terrible look on his face. “We do not drink the sweet blood!”

Simon sprang to
his
feet, his canines lengthening. “That rule is for
your
people, not mine.”

“You licked up my blood,” Meg said, her voice trembling. “You licked my blood, and it made you sick.”

“Not sick!” Simon snapped.

Now Meg stood and stared at Monty. “That’s why all these bad things are happening, isn’t it? That’s what made the Crows too sick to get away.”

He’s afraid for her, Monty thought, glancing at Simon. He doesn’t want her to tell the rest of them what she’s figured out.

“Not sick!” Simon shouted. “Sit down, Meg, and stop being stupid, or I’ll bite you!”

“I’m not being stupid, and you can’t bite me!”

“I can nip really hard!”

With fascinated horror, Monty saw Erebus’s legs change to smoke, clothes as well as flesh; saw Vlad and the female vampire jump to their feet; saw Henry rise to tower over all of them, his strong fingers now ending in a Grizzly’s savage claws; saw Tess’s hair turn red with wide black streaks. Blair and Elliot were crowding the chairs, putting themselves between the vampires and Simon—who was totally focused on Meg.

The Elementals were the only ones who didn’t seem concerned, and Monty found their curious interest more frightening than being caught in the middle of a terrible fight.

Then Simon grabbed Meg’s upper arms, ignoring her startled cry of pain, and hauled her up to her toes. Even then he had to bend a little to be nose to nose with her.

“I don’t know how long the crazy female mood lasts when you’re in season, but
you are not doing anything stupid until you can think straight
!” Simon yelled. “And if you try being stupid then, I
will
bite you, no matter what.”

She stared into Wolf eyes that had turned red with fury. Then she grabbed his sweater. Seeing the way he winced, she must have pulled a couple of fistfuls of fur along with the material.

“Meat grinder,” Meg whispered. Her eyes, her face, her voice, were oddly blank.

Everyone in the room froze.

“Meat grinder dream,” she said. “Need the pain, need the fear to make the best meat. Hand in the grinder, chew it all up. Keep the meat alive while you cut and grind. He’ll find me! He’ll … Simon!”

He went down with her when she collapsed, cradling her in his lap while he licked her cheek. “Meg? Meg!”

Lorenzo shoved past Henry and Tess. “Let me have a look.”

One moment Lorenzo was kneeling on the other side of Meg, staring at an angry human male. The next moment, there was a man with a Wolf’s head holding Meg and snarling at the doctor.

“Let me help,” Lorenzo said. “That’s why you agreed to let me have some office space in the Courtyard, isn’t it? So I can help?”

Blair put a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “He’ll let you help.”

Monty applauded the doctor’s courage. He wasn’t sure he’d have enough nerve to put his hands that close to a Wolf’s teeth.

“She fainted,” Lorenzo said. “Her body’s way of protecting her from what she was seeing. Which explains some things about the euphoria these girls experience.” He eased back. “Is there someplace nearby where she can rest?”

“There’s a Wolf bed in the office,” Vlad said. “It’s just across the hall.”

“She’s coming around, but someone should stay with her,” Lorenzo said.

“I’ll stay with our Meg,” Winter said.

Blair squeezed Simon’s shoulder. “Simon.” A warning.

Wolfgard looked almost human by the time Meg opened her eyes.

“Your ears are furry,” she said.

Simon whined.

“Let’s get her settled,” Lorenzo said, getting to his feet. “Then I have some thoughts I’d like to share with all of you.”

Simon rose with Meg in his arms. Vlad led the way to the office, followed by Simon, Lorenzo, Winter, and the female vampire.

Monty sagged in his chair, exhausted by the adrenaline rush of the past few minutes. He didn’t meet their eyes, but he noticed the
terra indigene
were all trying to regain their balance. Erebus now looked fully human again, as did Henry. The black receded from Tess’s hair, and Blair and Elliot had resumed their place against the wall.

Do any of them realize that Simon Wolfgard is falling in love with Meg Corbyn? Monty wondered. Does Wolfgard understand his own response to the girl? What about Meg? How does she feel? What would the rest of the Others do if one of their kind did fall in love with a human?

Another complication, but what Meg described just before she fainted was more disturbing and, most likely, more immediate.

Simon, Vlad, and Lorenzo returned and took their seats.

“What happened to Meg?” Tess asked. “She wasn’t dreaming and she didn’t cut. Why did she see a vision? And why didn’t it sound like the visions she’s had before?”

They all looked at the doctor.

“I think she moved the wrong way, and a section of yesterday’s cut reopened enough to seep fresh blood,” Lorenzo said. “And that, in turn, opened her to prophecy … or allowed her to recall the details of a dream.”

“But Vladimir told me our Meg was in season and the blood scent should be politely ignored,” Erebus said, staring at Vlad.

“She is in season and testy about it,” Simon said.

Monty looked at all the males in the room and knew that a discussion of the human female’s reproductive cycle wasn’t something he wanted to have with any of them today—or any day. “Does a second source of blood explain the dreamlike vision?”

“No,” Simon replied. “Meg says sometimes the visions look like a clip from a movie.” He looked at Lorenzo. “If she saw prophecy from a cut and could speak, why wasn’t there any euphoria?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because it wasn’t a new cut?” Lorenzo took a deep breath before turning to address Erebus Sanguinati. “I’m not expressing an opinion about your taboos, just making an observation about shape-shifters and
cassandra sangue
blood.” He waited for Erebus’s nod before continuing. “I don’t think the problem was that Mr. Wolfgard consumed Ms. Corbyn’s blood. I think the problem was he suffered an overdose.”

It was unnerving to watch a room full of predators focus on a man.

“There is a lack of information about blood prophets, and that doesn’t make sense since these girls require so much medical care,” Lorenzo said. “But that’s a different discussion. The point is, I have no evidence to support what I say. Maybe you have something in your histories that would confirm my guesses.”

“Guesses about what?” Simon asked.

“The human body is a chemical stew. The body floods with different chemicals to respond to different situations. Flight or fight response. Fear, anger, aggression.” Lorenzo looked at Simon. “Ms. Corbyn had that gash on her chin when you brought her to the hospital. You were angry and aggressive that night almost beyond reason.”

Simon nodded. “I licked the blood from the gash, trying to clean the wound.”

“But yesterday morning, I think she began to speak prophecy shortly after you found her, and as soon as she began speaking, her body flooded with all the chemicals that create the euphoria. When you licked
that
blood, basically you were consuming a potent tranquilizer.”

“So Wolves react to Meg’s blood in different ways depending on whether she’s happy or scared?” Henry asked, studying Simon.

“Not just Wolves,” Lorenzo said. “Whoever is using these girls to create the drugs known as gone over wolf and feel-good have targeted humans as well. I think the prophet’s blood is, in a way, a wonder drug and a curse.”

“Namid’s creation is wondrous and terrible,” Erebus said.

“Poison frogs,” Monty said, thinking about a program he’d watched with Lizzy. “Not harmful if left alone, but the poison that exudes through their skin will kill anything that tries to eat them.” After a look around the room, he added hastily, “Not that I think Ms. Corbyn is like a frog.”

“But she is,” Lorenzo said. “Attack a blood prophet, frighten her or hurt her, and her body becomes a weapon against the attacker. I imagine if any of you consumed the quantity of blood you usually would from a kill, you’d all overdose to the point of turning on each other. The girl dies, but so do the attackers. Good reason to cross
cassandra sangue
off the list of edibles. On the other hand, you have bodywalkers, which means taking care of injuries. We use opiates to relieve pain in our hospitals. But early in our mutual history, when humans and Others first crossed paths, a girl whose blood could render someone passive to the point where a bone could be set or a wound stitched up would be, I think, a valuable asset. Something you wouldn’t waste. But too much of that blood, like too much of an opiate, could be deadly. Impossible not to overdose if you’re feeding while she was lost in the euphoria.”

“The prophet who was found in the basement,” Erebus said. “Any Sanguinati would know she is not prey and could not be touched.”

“We all sensed that Meg is not prey,” Simon said.

“What does all this mean?” Tess asked. “And what do we do about Meg’s need to cut?”

Lorenzo sighed. “I don’t know. As I said, there is very little information available about blood prophets. Maybe a girl with less ability could be weaned away from the razor. I’m not sure Ms. Corbyn can stop cutting at this point. If what I saw here is typical, cutting, and the euphoria that comes with it, might be the only safety valve her sanity has. I do feel, if she’s going to stay here with you—”