Silver Borne

Monty was probably Tony, whose last name was Montenegro. That would make the older cop Holbrook.

“Green,” said the older man quietly—I don’t think any of us were supposed to hear him. “It’s not all right until you find out what’s going on. I don’t care if the president himself is in front of you.” But then Holbrook took a good look at us, all standing with our hands plainly visible and in the relaxed fashion of people who had not almost killed each other five minutes before. We, all of us, were pretty good at lying with our bodies. “Now, go call it in and tell them situation under control.”

Green turned without argument, leaving Tony and Holbrook to approach us alone.

“Mercy?” Unlike the other officers, Tony wasn’t in uniform. He was wearing a dark jacket over black jeans, and he wore diamond studs in his pierced ears and looked more like a drug dealer than a cop. “What happened?”

“He came into the office and saw my friend here.” I rested my hand on Sam’s head. I couldn’t call him by name. Tony knew Dr. Samuel Cornick, knew he was my roommate—and wouldn’t have any trouble co

“That’s a werewolf?” asked the older cop, who suddenly looked a lot more wary. His hand crept to his holster.

“Yes,” I agreed steadily. “And as you can see—despite Heart’s precipitous actions”—I didn’t tell them what his precipitous actions had been, though Tony’s mouth tightened, so I was pretty sure he knew about the gun—“my friend here kept his head. If he hadn’t, there would be bodies.” I looked at Heart. “Some people might learn from his example of self-control and good judgement.”

“He’s dangerous,” said Kelly. “I wouldn’t have sh—” He suddenly decided to leave the gun out of it, too, and switched tactics without bothering to finish his sentence. “I have a warrant authorizing the apprehension of the werewolf.”

“No, you don’t,” I told him confidently. No way did he have a warrant for Sam.

“What?” said Tony.

“A werewolf?” said the older cop. “I don’t remember hearing anything about a warrant on a werewolf.”

He whistled and waved, catching the attention of the young cop who was walking briskly back toward us.

“Green,” he said, “you hear anything about a warrant out for one of our local werewolves?”

The young man’s eyes widened. He looked at me, looked at Sam, and came to the right conclusion. Sam wagged his tail, and the police officer straightened up, his face going impersonal and professional. I recognized the look—this one had been in the armed forces.

“No, sir,” he said. He wasn’t afraid, but he was watching Sam closely. “I would have remembered something like that.”

“I have proof,” the bounty hunter said, nodding toward the van. “I have the warrant in the van.”

Tony’s eyebrow went up, and he glanced at the other cops. “I can tell you for certain that we haven’t had any werewolves arrested and let out on bail. Since when does our department give arrest warrants to bounty hunters? I’m inclined to agree with Mercy—you must be mistaken.”

Holbrook kept his attention on Sam, but Green and Tony both showed better sense.

“Officer Holbrook,” I said, “you could make things a lot easier on my friend here if you didn’t look him in the eye. He won’t do anything.” I hoped. “But the wolf instincts tell him that direct eye contact is a challenge.”

Holbrook looked at me. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said. “I appreciate the information.”

“The warrant’s in the van,” said Heart. “I can have my assistant bring it here.”

While the police were talking to Heart and me, Adam, Zee, and Gabriel had been doing their best to fade into the background. But I caught motion out of the corner of my eye: Zee, catching Adam’s attention. When he had it, he tilted his head toward the storage yard across the street.

Like Adam, I followed Zee’s gesture with my eyes and spotted it right away. On top of the nearest storage unit was something that blended in with the red metal roof. With enough glamour, a fae can take on the appearance of any living thing, but something inanimate—like a roof—is harder. I couldn’t see what he or she was, just that something was there. It took less than an instant, and I pulled my eyes away quickly so as not to alert the fae creature of our notice.

“Ben,” Adam said very quietly.

“What did you say?” asked Tony.

Ben was leaning against the van and chatting up Tanya-the-Bounty-Hunter’s-Woman, Leather Boy (Heart’s too-handsome sidekick), and Tech-Girl. They all must have had really bad instincts, because they were flushed and smiling. When Adam spoke, Ben looked over to his Alpha. The van would hide him from the fae on the rooftop—but it would also hide the fae from him.

“Nothing important,” Adam said, while he made a few unobtrusive gestures with his right hand, about hip level. Ben made a gesture in return, and Adam closed his fist, then opened it.

“Who are you, anyway?” asked Heart.

“You were going to show us this warrant?” asked Tony, changing the subject.

By the van, Ben smiled. He ducked his head, said something to the people he was talking with that had them all looking our way, then walked casually around the end of the van. I couldn’t see him as he crossed the street because of the van, but I saw the fae notice him and drop off the far side of the warehouse.

Heart said, “Bring it on over, sweetheart.” I understood then that they had some sort of mic system that allowed her to hear everything we said. Probably recorded it, too. I supposed that was okay.

Ben hopped the tall chain-link fence without touching it—if any mundane saw him, there would be no question that he wasn’t human. But the police, including Tony, were watching the famous TV star.

No one but Adam, Zee, and me—as far as I could tell—noticed anything. Gabriel was gone. I realized that I’d seen Gabriel go back through the garage when his sister had cried out—because Sylvia had pulled her away from the werewolf.

Paying attention, I could hear him talking in Spanish, his voice sharp with anger as he and his mother argued about something—and my name was definitely a part of the discussion.

I tuned them out as the bounty hunter’s tech-girl came ru

“He has a warrant,” Tony told me, carefully not looking at Adam. “And you’re right. It’s not for this werewolf.” He handed the paper to Holbrook.

The older man took one look at it and harrumphed. “It’s a fake,” he said, absolute certainty in his voice. “If you’d have told me the name, I could have told you it was a fake—without even looking at the elegant signature that looks less like Judge Fisk’s than mine does. No way there’s a warrant out for Hauptman and it’s not all over the station.”

“That’s what I thought,” agreed Tony. “Fisk’s signature is barely legible.”

“What?” There was enough honest indignation in Kelly’s voice that I was pretty sure it was genuine.

Tony, who was watching the bounty hunter pretty closely, seemed to have the same opinion as I did. He handed the warrant to the youngest cop. “Green, go call this in and see if it’s real,” he said. “Just for the bounty hunter’s sake.”

Like Tony, Green very carefully didn’t look at Adam. “I haven’t heard about this,” he said. “And I’d have remembered if we had a warrant for him. We know our local Alpha. I can sure as heck tell you that he hasn’t jumped bail.” Green looked at Tony. “But I’ll go call it in.” And he strode briskly back to his patrol car.

“My producer told us that the police department didn’t want to take on a werewolf and had asked for our help,” said Heart, though he didn’t sound nearly as certain.