The Black Wolves of Boston by Spencer Wen

Author:Spencer,Wen [Spencer, Wen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Contemporary, Urban, General
ISBN: 9781481482462
Google: Mla0DAEACAAJ
Amazon: 9781481482462
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2017-02-07T05:00:00+00:00

24: Elise

“What the hell?” Bethy whispered for the third time. “You were going to shoot him.”

Elise was glad that if the girl insisted on stating that over and over again, she was at least doing it quietly. Obviously she wasn’t going to stop until Elise actually answered her. “Some evil cannot be contained. It can only be eliminated.”

“You were going to shoot him!” Bethy whispered.

The emphasis had changed slightly. That was progress. Maybe.

“He was going to kill us. He killed your neighbor. The police wouldn’t have stopped him. In fact, they would have helped him.”

“Why?”

Why was Elise going to shoot him? She’d covered that. Why would the police help him? Being that they were standing at a murder scene, surrounded by officers, that wasn’t a subject she wanted to discuss. Luckily the uniform nearest to them was busy throwing up. Cabot had done an impressive amount of damage in a matter of seconds. The warlock’s head was a good twenty feet from his body.

“All the things people have told you are just legends and myths and make-believe are real,” Elise whispered. “Except for the tooth fairy. It’s totally creepy once you think about it in depth; some magical creature stealing baby teeth out of children’s bedrooms in the middle of the night. I think that’s made up; certainly I’ve never killed one. Whatever.”

She was rambling because she was trying to vector possible attacks and counterattacks. The Wickers knew she was in the area, what vehicle she was driving, and where she’d spent the night. They’d also figured out they’d lost contact with the huntsman because she’d stopped it. They weren’t sure where their construct had been destroyed; Clarice had sanitized the police reports on Saturday as soon as Elise verified that the bodies been used as seedbeds. Nor had the Wickers realized that she was allied with the wolves. That, however, had just become obvious.

Even with the warlock dead, the Wickers had the upper hand. She needed to get one step ahead of them: figuratively and literally.

She needed to leave as soon as possible, but first, she should learn what she could of the dead man. Wickers never bothered with such things as driver’s licenses and credit cards. There would be no ID on him. No sales receipts. No random slip of paper.

The warlock had left behind a littering of puppets.

One was curled on the ground, howling with fear. “Make sure he’s dead! Make sure he’s dead!” Another was unconscious, knocked out by Bethy. Neither one of those would be useful. She’d kept Cabot from killing them because they were most likely innocent of any true wrongdoing.

“You were going to shoot him!” Bethy had tenacity in spades, which might be the reason she was immune to Wicker’s powers.

“Yes! He was a bad man,” Elise whispered but it came out louder than she intended. The police officer erecting a tape barrier around the warlock’s body glanced their direction.

She flashed her Interpol badge again. “I shot at the wolf. I think I hit it.

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