Marked in Flesh Page 118


Monty hugged his daughter. “I can’t, Lizzy girl. The police have to help the people who might be in trouble during the storm.”

“We’ll be fine.” Twyla put her hands on Lizzy’s shoulders. “We’re as ready as anyone can be, and we’ll be just fine.”

“Have you told Simon Wolfgard he’s not in charge anymore?” Monty asked.

“Huh.” Twyla smiled. “Eve Denby and I told him the women had things in hand to look after the people coming here for shelter, and he had the sense to go off and take care of his own business.”

It felt a little forced, but Monty returned the smile. “Yes, ma’am. Message received.”

Her smile faded. “We’ll be fine here, Crispin.”

He touched Lizzy’s hair. “You mind Grandma Twyla, you hear?”

“Yes, Daddy. I hear.”

Being the newest members of the female pack, Twyla and Sierra were assigned the care of the children—a practical choice since three of the five were family. They were tucked in the efficiency apartment that would be turned into the school. It had drinking water and plumbing, was easily reached by the adults, both human and terra indigene, who would be looking after the Courtyard’s businesses, and had a television, a movie disc player, and a sufficient supply of movies to keep the youngsters occupied, not to mention the games, books, and changes of clothing. The kitchen was packed with food. Everything that could be done to protect the young had been done.

As he hurried down the stairs and turned toward the back door of Howling Good Reads, where his team was meeting Burke to receive their orders, he wondered where Sam Wolfgard and Meg Corbyn were going to wait out the storm.

Gods, Monty thought as lightning scarred a dark sky and the wind knocked him sideways a step. This area behind the stores was sheltered on all sides. If wind gusts were this bad here, what were they going to be like out in the open?

As he fought with the wind for possession of the door and finally got it closed, he heard Kowalski’s voice coming from the stacks on his left.

“Dad, I know what they’re saying on the radio. I’ve been listening to the freaking weather reports too. But I’m telling you, this is going to be a bad storm. Bad enough that the families of police officers are being offered shelter at the stations. You, Mom, and Tim can . . . Gods above and below! Those people are finished. Can’t you see that? Let me talk to Mom. Dad? Dad!”

A defeated sigh and a soft, “Fuck.” Then Kowalski squeezed through the stacks of books and other supplies, blushing when he saw Monty.

“Is your family going to take shelter at the station?” Monty asked quietly.

Kowalski shook his head. “‘I lived through the storm of blah-di-blah-blah, and I’m not leaving.’ He still believes the HFL movement is going to ‘sort those creatures out.’ And I can’t tell him the real reason this storm is going to be so bad, can I?”

“No, you can’t.” It wasn’t the storm itself that was going to devastate the city; it was what was coming in hidden by the storm.

Burke had had a quiet word with Captain Zajac and Captain Wheatley, two patrol captains in other precincts who recognized that the terra indigene held the key to Lakeside’s survival. He’d told all the police stations that they should offer shelter for their officers’ families, but the men working out of the Chestnut Street station were the only ones who really took the warning seriously enough.

“What about Ruth’s parents?” Monty asked. Looking at Kowalski’s bitter smile made his heart ache.

“When she called them, her mother said, ‘My daughter is dead,’ and hung up.” Kowalski squared his shoulders. “But the MacDonalds are on their way to the Courtyard. So is Michael Debany’s family. They’re bringing the perishable foods from their fridge and any other supplies that might be useful.”

Monty didn’t know if Merri Lee’s family lived in Lakeside, and he didn’t ask.

The back door blew open and Michael Debany stumbled into the stock room.

“Whoo! That’s a mean bitch out there!” Debany said, not seeing Simon Wolfgard coming in right behind him until he turned to close the door. “Ah . . . Sorry. That just slipped out. Is it anyone we know?”

“No. And she is a mean bitch.” Simon closed the door, then looked at the three men. “You want to wait for Captain Burke in the front of the store? There’s more room. I don’t know who’s working at A Little Bite right now, but there might be coffee.”

In other words, you’re in the way, Monty thought. “We’ll do that.”

His mobile phone rang at the same time Simon’s rang, so he hurried toward the front of the store, stopping near the archway that connected HGR with A Little Bite. “Montgomery.”

“Lieutenant,” Burke said. “Let someone there know that Commander Gresh is bringing his family to the Courtyard. I’ll be along shortly.”

“Yes, sir.” Monty ended the call. Seeing Simon coming toward him, Monty started to speak. But Simon rushed past him, checked the coffee shop, then turned around and ran for the inside staircase that led to HGR’s second floor. Judging by the look on the Wolf’s face, Simon had his own problems right now.

As Debany and Kowalski answered their mobile phones, the looks on their faces told him that Simon’s problem would be his too.

• • •

Ready to snarl and howl about idiot puppies, Simon rushed into the office, startling Vlad, who was monitoring e-mail and marking up a map to indicate the towns that were still out there.

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