Written in Red (2 page)

A Brief History of the World

L
ong ago, Namid gave birth to all kinds of life, including the beings known as humans. She gave the humans fertile pieces of herself, and she gave them good water. Understanding their nature and the nature of her other offspring, she also gave them enough isolation that they would have a chance to survive and grow. And they did.

They
learned to build fires and shelters. They learned to farm and build cities. They built boats and fished in the Mediterran and Black seas. They bred and spread throughout their pieces of the world until they pushed into the wild places. That’s when they discovered that Namid’s other offspring already claimed the rest of the world.

The Others looked at humans and did not see conquerors. They saw a new kind of meat.

Wars were fought to possess the wild places. Sometimes the humans won and spread their seed a little farther. More often, pieces of civilization disappeared, and fearful survivors tried not to shiver when a howl went up in the night or a man, wandering too far from the safety of stout doors and light, was found the next morning drained of blood.

Centuries passed, and the humans built larger ships and sailed across the Atlantik Ocean. When they found virgin land, they built a settlement near the shore. Then they discovered that this land was also claimed by the
terra indigene
, the earth natives. The Others.

The
terra indigene
who ruled the continent called Thaisia became angry when the humans cut down trees and put a plow to land that was not theirs. So the Others ate the settlers and learned the shape of this particular meat, just as they had done many times in the past.

The second wave of explorers and settlers found the abandoned settlement and, once more, tried to claim the land as their own.

The Others ate them too.

The third wave of settlers had a leader who was smarter than his predecessors. He offered the Others warm blankets and lengths of cloth for clothes and interesting bits of shiny in exchange for being allowed to live in the settlement and have enough land to grow crops. The Others thought this was a fair exchange and walked off the boundaries of the land that the humans could use. More gifts were exchanged for hunting and fishing privileges. This arrangement satisfied both sides, even if one side regarded its new neighbors with snarling tolerance and the other side swallowed fear and made sure its people were safely inside the settlement’s walls before nightfall.

Years passed and more settlers arrived. Many died, but enough humans prospered. Settlements grew into villages, which grew into towns, which grew into cities. Little by little, humans moved across Thaisia, spreading out as much as they could on the land they were allowed to use.

Centuries passed. Humans were smart. So were the Others. Humans invented electricity and plumbing. The Others controlled all the rivers that could power the generators and all the lakes that supplied fresh drinking water. Humans invented steam engines and central heating. The Others controlled all the fuel needed to run the engines and heat the buildings. Humans invented and manufactured products. The Others controlled all the natural resources, thereby deciding what would and wouldn’t be made in their part of the world.

There were collisions, of course, and some places became dark memorials for the dead. Those memorials finally made it clear to human government that the
terra indigene
ruled Thaisia, and nothing short of the end of the world would change that.

So it comes to this current age. Small human villages exist within vast tracks of land that belong to the Others. And in larger human cities, there are fenced parks called Courtyards that are inhabited by the Others who have the task of keeping watch over the city’s residents and enforcing the agreements the humans made with the
terra indigene
.

There is still sharp-toothed tolerance on one side and fear of what walks in the dark on the other. But if they are careful, the humans survive.

Most of the time, they survive.

CHAPTER 1

H
alf blinded by the storm, she stumbled into the open area between two buildings. Hoping to hide from whomever was hunting for her as well as get some relief from the snow and wind, she followed an angled wall and ducked around the corner. Her socks and sneakers were soaked, and her feet were so cold she couldn’t feel them. She knew that wasn’t good, wasn’t safe, but she had taken the clothing available just as she had taken the opportunity to run.

No sound of footsteps that would confirm she was being followed, but that didn’t mean anything. Blocked by the wall, even the sounds of the slow-moving traffic were muted.

She had to find shelter. It was too cold to be out here tonight. As part of her training, she’d been shown pictures of people who had frozen to death, so she knew she couldn’t stay out here much longer. But the city shelters that provided a place for the homeless would be the first places the hunters would look for her.

Was she going to die tonight? Was this the storm that was the beginning of the end? No. She wouldn’t consider that possibility. She hadn’t done this much and come this far for it all to end before she had a chance to begin. Besides, she hadn’t seen other parts of the prophecy yet. She hadn’t seen the dark-haired man wearing a green pullover sweater. She didn’t have to worry about dying until she saw
him.

That didn’t mean she could afford to be stupid.

The building at the back of the open area drew her attention, mostly because it provided the only light. Peeking around the corner to reassure herself that she was still alone, she hurried toward it. Maybe she could figure out an excuse to stay inside for a few minutes—just long enough for her feet to thaw.

But the light, which had seemed so bright and hopeful a moment before, was merely the overnight lighting. The place was closed. Still, there was enough light for her to see the sign above the glass door—a sign that would have chilled her more than the snow and wind if she hadn’t felt so desperate.

LAKESIDE COURTYARD
H.L.D.N.A.

Human Law Does Not Apply. She was standing on land that belonged to the Others. She might be momentarily safe from human predators, but if she was caught here, she was at the mercy of beings that only looked human, and even someone who had lived a confined life knew what happened to humans who were imprudent in their encounters with the
terra indigene.

A second sign was taped to the inside of the door. She stared at it for a long time, despite her numb feet and the freezing temperature.

WANTED:
HUMAN LIAISON
APPLY AT HOWLING GOOD READS

(AROUND THE CORNER)

A job. A way to earn money for food and lodging. A place where she could hide for a while. A place where, even if she was found, the hunters couldn’t take her back because human law did not apply.

Howling Good Reads. It sounded like a name for an Others store.

She could die here. Most people who tangled with the Others died, one way or another. But based on what she had seen in the prophecy, she was going to die anyway, so for once in her life, what happened to her would be on her terms.

That much decided, she tromped back to the sidewalk and hurried to the corner. When she turned right on Crowfield Avenue, she saw two people walk out of a store. Lights and life. She headed toward both.

Taking his place behind the checkout counter, Simon Wolfgard glanced at the clock on the wall, then said,

The howl from the back of the bookstore produced the expected female squeals and more manly grunts of surprise.

Raising his voice to be heard by the humans within sight, he said, “Ten minutes to closing.”

Not that they didn’t know that. The howl was the ten-minute warning—just as the Wolf who took up a position at the door was the bookstore’s own brand of security. A would-be shoplifter having his hand bitten off instilled a strong sense of honesty in the rest of the humans who came to Howling Good Reads. Having to walk over the blood—and walk past the Wolf who was still crunching on a couple of fingers—left a lasting impression, not to mention a few nightmares.

Didn’t stop the monkeys from coming back the next day to stare at the bloodstains and whisper to one another as they browsed the contents of the store. The thrill of rounding a shelving unit and coming face-to-face with one of the Others in its animal form—and the more chilling thrill of sometimes seeing swift and terrible violence—tended to increase the sale of horror and thriller novels and helped the bookstore maintain an acceptable profit.

Not that any store in the Courtyard needed a profit to stay in business. The stores were run for the convenience of the
terra indigene
who lived in the Courtyard and provided a way for the rest of the Others to receive the human-made goods they wanted. It was more his own desire to understand the way businesses were run—and test the honesty of the human companies he dealt with—that gave Simon the push to keep his store in the black every month.

But Howling Good Reads didn’t follow human retail practices when it came to hours of operation. HGR closed promptly at nine p.m. on the evenings it was open to humans, and some of the staff didn’t hesitate to shift shapes and nip lingering customers who thought the store’s listed closing was a suggestion rather than a firm time.

He rang up a few sales, more than he’d expected on a night when the sensible would have been tucked in at home to avoid subzero wind chills and wind-whipped snow that had as much bite as any Wolf. Of course, some of the monkeys lived nearby and used the bookstore and adjoining coffee shop, A Little Bite, as their social gathering places when they didn’t want to spend an evening drinking at the taverns on Main Street.

Humans,
Simon reminded himself. He adjusted the wire-rimmed glasses that he didn’t need for vision but thought made him look a little gawky and more approachable.
Call them
humans
when you’re in the store. That way you’re less likely to use the slur when talking to an employee. It’s hard enough to find help we can tolerate. No sense driving away the ones we have by insulting them.

The word had traveled across the ocean from Afrikah, where the Liongard referred to humans as hairless, gibbering monkeys. After the
terra indigene
in Thaisia saw pictures of monkeys, they adopted the word because it fit so many of the humans they encountered. But he was a member of the Business Association that ran the integrated stores and Courtyard shops, as well as being the leader of the Lakeside Courtyard, so he tried not to be insulting—at least not out loud.

“Simon.”

He turned toward the voice that sounded like warm syrup as the woman shrugged into a hooded parka. The movement lifted the bottom of her short sweater, revealing a couple of inches of toned belly that still looked softly bitable.

Plenty of human females came sniffing around the store, hoping to be invited for a walk on the wild side, but there was something about this one that made him want to sink his fangs into her throat instead of nibble on her belly.

“Asia.” He tipped his head, a gesture that was both greeting and dismissal.

She didn’t take the hint. She never did. Asia Crane had set her sights on him from the first day she walked into Howling Good Reads. That was part of the reason he didn’t like her. The harder she pushed to get close to him, the more he felt like a challenge to be conquered and the less he wanted her around. But she never pushed so hard that he could justify attacking her for being in his store.

A couple more people were shrugging into winter coats and scarves, but there was no one else by the register.

Giving him a
Bite me, I like it
smile, she said, “Come on, Simon. It’s been over a week, and you
promised
to think about it.”

“I didn’t promise anything,” he said as he straightened up the counter space around the register.

She had blond hair and brown eyes, and he’d been told by a couple of human males who worked in the Courtyard that she was beautiful. But there were things about Asia that bothered him. He couldn’t point a paw at any particular thing, besides her pursuing him when he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested, but that feeling was the reason he’d refused to give her a job at HGR when she’d first come around. It was also the reason he wouldn’t let her rent one of the four efficiency apartments that the Courtyard sometimes made available to human employees. Now she wanted to be the Human Liaison, a job that would give her access to the Courtyard itself. He’d eat her before he gave her
that
job. And Vladimir Sanguinati, who was the store’s other manager, had offered to help more than once if Simon looked at Asia some night and felt peckish. A fair arrangement, since Vlad preferred the blood while Simon liked ripping off chunks of fresh meat.

“We’re closed, Asia. Go home,” he said.

She let out a theatrical sigh. “I’d really like the job, Simon. The one I’ve got barely pays the rent and it’s
boring.
”

Now he didn’t even try to sound friendly. “We’re closed.”

Another sigh, followed by a pouty look as she zipped up her parka, pulled on gloves, and finally left.

John, another member of the Wolfgard, left his spot by the door to do a check for any stragglers. So Simon was alone in the front of the store when the door opened again, letting in a blast of cold air that he found refreshing after all the scents humans used.

“We’re—” He glanced toward the door and swallowed the word
closed.

The woman looked half frozen. She wore sneakers—
sneakers
, for pity’s sake—and her jeans were soaked up to the knees. The denim jacket was a light covering suitable for a summer night, and she was wearing a T-shirt under it.

She looked so painfully cold he didn’t have the automatic consideration of whether she’d be edible.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he asked.

She stared at him as if she’d seen him before, and whatever had happened made her afraid. Problem was, he didn’t recognize her. Not by sight or smell.

Then she took a couple of steps toward the counter. He suspected that was to get farther into the store, where it was warmer, than to get closer to him.

“I s-saw the sign,” she stammered. “A-about the job.”

Not a stutter,
he decided. Her teeth were beginning to chatter. How long had she been out in that weather? It was a natural storm, coming off the lake. The first one of the new year. Being a natural storm didn’t mean it wasn’t a bitch.

“What sign?”

“H-human Liaison,” she chattered. “The sign said to apply here.”

Moments ticked by. She lowered her eyes. Probably not brazen enough to meet his stare now that she’d said what she wanted.

Something about her troubled him, but it wasn’t the same feeling he had when he was around Asia Crane. Until he figured out what that something was, he didn’t want to kick her back out in the snow. And except for Asia, this was the first human to ask about the job. That was reason enough to give her a few minutes of his time.

Movement at the edge of his peripheral vision. John, now in human form and dressed in a sweater and jeans, tipped his head by way of asking,
What now?

Simon tipped his head slightly in turn and looked at the cash register.

“Want me to close up?” John asked, giving the shivering woman a smile as he approached.

“Yes.” He looked at the woman. “Let’s go next door and have a cup of coffee while we discuss the job.”

She turned toward the outer door and hesitated.

“No, this way.” He took a couple of steps past the counter and pointed to an opening in the wall.

The archway between had a lattice door that could be latched when one store was closed and the other was still open to customers. On the wall beside the door was a sign that read,
PAY FOR THE BOOKS BEFORE ENTERING A LITTLE BITE, OR WE’LL TAKE A BITE OUT OF YOU.

The sign on the other side of the door read,
SURE, YOU CAN TAKE THAT MUG. WE’LL JUST KEEP YOUR HAND IN EXCHANGE.

He didn’t think the woman’s brain was thawed enough to take in the words. After the first jolt of seeing him, he didn’t think she had taken in anything.

Tess was wiping down the glass display case when he walked in. The friendly smile she started to give him shifted to guarded when she noticed his companion.

“Could we have some coffee?” he asked as he took a seat at a table closest to the counter—and away from the door and the pocket of cold that seemed to settle around the tables close to the windows.

“There’s still some left in the pot,” she replied, giving the woman a sharper look now.

Simon leaned back in his chair, resting one ankle over his other knee. “I’m Simon Wolfgard. What’s your name?”

“Meg Corbyn.”

He heard the breath of hesitation that told him it wasn’t a name she was used to. Which meant it wasn’t a name she’d had for long. He didn’t like liars. Humans who lied about small things tended to lie about a lot of other things as well.

And a name wasn’t all that small a thing when all was said and done.

But when Tess brought the mugs of coffee to the table and he saw the way Meg cupped the mug to warm her hands, he let it go.

He thanked Tess, then turned his attention back to Meg Corbyn. “You know what being a Human Liaison entails?”

“No,” she said.

“So you don’t have any experience with a job like this?”

“No. But I can learn. I
want
to learn.”

He didn’t doubt the sincerity of her words, but he did wonder if she wouldn’t die of pneumonia or something else before she had a chance to learn anything.

Suddenly he remembered the scarred old woman sitting in the sun, offering to read her cards and tell people their fortunes. But she didn’t use her cards that day, not for him. What she had done was the reason her words had whispered through his thoughts for the past twenty years. And now her words rang in his memory as clear as if he’d heard them yesterday.

Be a leader for your people. Be the voice that decides who lives and who dies within your Courtyard. The day will come when a life you save will, in turn, save someone dear to you.