Dead Spots (Scarlett Bernard #1)(27)
“Why not just leave the bodies? Wouldn’t everyone figure that it was just one of the dogs from the park?” Molly asked.
Caroline answered for Travis. “Will has drilled all of the wolves to call, even when you think something could be explained away.”
“Probably, you’re exactly right, Molly, but there’s still a one in a thousand chance that the owner of the chickens gets mad and has the bodies examined,” I said. “You never know who has money and power in this town. A werewolf in wolf form will still show up as a wolf on a DNA test, and then everyone in the neighborhood will start looking for wolves, talking about wolves...It’s not worth the risk, even if it’s only a teeny-tiny one.”
Molly nodded in understanding.
“You did exactly the right thing,” I said to Travis, who beamed in relief and happiness. You could practically see his tail wagging. “You guys can go now.”
Without another word, he took off back toward the parking lot on the other side of the park.
Caroline rolled her eyes at me good-naturedly and gave me a quick hug before she followed. “Have fun,” she whispered mischievously.
Goddammit. Could they, like, smell it on Eli and me?
“So what do we do now?” said Eli, looking my way.
Oh, right, I was supposed to be training. I pulled out more of my industrial-sized ziplock baggies and told him to gather what was left of the birds. Then I took the bags back to the freezer compartment in the van, pulling out a sack of dirt, Molly sticking to my heels like a shadow. “I want to try something. Let’s see if we can use your nose to help,” I said to Eli. He was starting to look kind of interested. I handed him another baggie, and then Molly and I backed off, far enough to keep the whole area out of my radius. “Okay,” I called to Eli, “now smell for the blood, and wherever you find some on any of the plants or tree bark, pull it and put it in the bag. He followed my instructions, and I watched him very carefully. This wasn’t just about him helping; I also wanted to make sure he could do the work without me around. Werewolves are much more into meat than blood, but even the blood would smell good to him. Eli did fine, though, not even twitching his nose.
“How come it smells so bad?” Molly whispered as we watched Eli.
“That’s what blood and bodies smell like to us,” I told her. “It probably used to smell like that to you, too. You’ve just forgotten.”
“Oh.”
When Eli had all the foliage collected, I ripped open the bag of dirt and started sprinkling it on the part of the ground that had been covered in blood. Then I handed the bag to Eli and backed off again. He sniffed a little, sprinkling in a few spots that I had missed. Then he walked over to Molly and me, and the three of us looked at the scene. You might have thought someone had walked through there, breaking some branches, but nothing else was even a little bit visible.
“Sunset’s at seven fourteen,” Molly said to me. I glanced up, realizing that the light had been fading around me. “What time is it now?”
I checked my watch. “Five after seven.”
“And you still have to show Eli what to do with the chickens, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” I had forgotten that I should probably take Eli along to Artie’s. I had gotten used to doing this alone.
“Okay, well, why don’t you give me your keys,” Molly said to Eli, her eyes sparkling, “and I’ll drive your car back to our place? Scar can bring you back there after you’re done.” She held out her hand to Eli, smiling sweetly, and he automatically reached into his pocket, looking at me uncertainly.
When I didn’t say anything, he shrugged and handed her the keys.
“Great!” she chirped, pleased with herself. Vampires can be such jerks.
We spent the next eight minutes loading up my supplies, and at quarter after, Molly took a few experimental steps away from my radius. I felt her pull away from my area, and then suddenly she was vampire. Her skin glowed, and she reached up to stretch. Just to show off, she raced at full vamp speed to the door of Eli’s car, faster than I could follow with my eyes. “See you at home!” she called back to us, and I couldn’t help but smile. Then I looked over at Eli. Alone with the sex buddy/bartender/apprentice. Awesome.
He was staring after Molly with a look of curiosity. “Vampires really like what they are, huh?”
It occurred to me for the first time that he probably hadn’t spent much time around vampires, aside from the formal meetings with Will. “Some of them do. Just like some of you guys like being wolves.”
He looked over at me sharply. “None of us like being wolves, Scarlett. The pack is...like a support group for people who are all living with the same illness.”
“Even the kid with the chickens?” I said, smart mouth fully mobilized.
“We try to have fun with it. You make the best of what you’re given, Scarlett. You should know that by now.”
Touché.
Artie Erickson runs an art studio in the Valley, teaching pottery and watercolors to bored housewives and trés-bohemian grad students. (I know, “Artie” teaches “art.” It’s hilarious, let’s move on.) His building also has an enormous furnace, left over from the prior owner. The students do glassblowing there, and because it’s easier to keep the furnace running than to keep lighting it over and over, Artie also charges local businesses for its use. He had a deal with Olivia, and when she died, I made sure we could still do business together. He’s an okay guy, if a little snooty. Art people can be like that.