Spirit Dances by C. E. Murphy

Author:C. E. Murphy [Murphy, C. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Women shamans, Fantasy, Mystery & Detective, Fantasy fiction, Paranormal, General, Romance, Seattle (Wash.), Policewomen, Mystery fiction, Women Sleuths, Policewomen - Washington - Seattle, Supernatural, Fiction, Demonology
ISBN: 9780373803255
Publisher: Luna
Published: 2011-03-22T00:00:00+00:00

I wish I could say I swung right into action, but in fact I just stood there for what seemed like an awfully long time, staring after Morrison. Disasters of every magnitude ran through my mind: Morrison getting hit by a car. Morrison getting shot by some redneck. Morrison escaping the city and living out his life howling at the moon. I wondered how long wolves lived, anyway. Morrison starving to death because what the hell did he know about hunting in wolf form, not that instinctive lupine behavior appeared out of his grasp. Coyote had said a forced or unexpected shift made it easy, even likely, that you’d get lost in the animal. I had to assume Morrison’s frenetic fleeing was pure panicked wolf, not the basically unruffleable man who’d become a precinct captain at the tender age of thirty-five.

The doors opened behind me and Jim Littlefoot, cautiously, said, “Detective Walker?”

“There’s a six-foot-three man in the audience wearing a bright blue zoot suit. He’s with a Hispanic woman a foot shorter than he is, wearing a black satin fitted Veronica Lake-style gown. I need you to get them, please.” I didn’t sound like me. I sounded like my head had been hollowed out and then refilled with worry so profound all it left was a scary degree of calm.

Littlefoot hesitated audibly, then exhaled an agreement. The door closed, but didn’t latch. I reached for my cell phone, rediscovering in the process that the right leg of my jeans was shredded. Welts had risen on my thigh, for that matter, big thick red strips which probably should have torn into muscle. I’d been lucky, or Morrison hadn’t really been trying to hurt me, or the magic within me had dealt with a more grievous injury while I wasn’t even paying attention. All three seemed equally possible.

I dialed Dispatch while my mind made all those little observations, and gave my name and badge number when the operator answered. I still sounded like someone else as I said, “I need Animal Control and the citywide police force to be on the lookout for a giant silver wolf in the West Seattle golf course area. It is absolutely fucking critical that the animal not be shot. Tranqs are all right, but mostly if it’s sighted and can be corralled, I need to be notified immediately.”

A long, long silence met my demand before the dispatch operator finally said, “Just how big of a wolf are we talking about?”

“Huge. Twice the size of a normal wolf. Silver fur, blue eyes. It may be wearing a suit jacket.”

The operator started giggling. I couldn’t blame him, although I also wanted to kill him. I waited for his laughter to die down, which happened very abruptly after about twenty seconds when he said, “911 just had a call about a gigantic wolf in that area.”

“Tell the 911 crew that the animal isn’t dangerous unless it’s engaged and that everybody should leave it the hell alone. That Animal Control is on its way.

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