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Her face paled, and she motioned for the little girl tugging on her arm to back off. "Saz, missing? No, that can't be. He was just here . . ." she motioned for her purse, and her daughter brought it over to her. Madge pul ed out a day planner and flipped it open. "Hel , it's been over a week since I've seen him.
Time just gets away from me these days." Lifting her head, she asked, "What do you think has happened to him?"
I forced myself not to flinch. What we thought happened to him was far too gruesome to speculate on. Luckily, Chase saw it the same way.
"We're not sure. Do you know if your brother had any enemies? Anyone out to get him for any reason?"
She slowly shook her head. "Not that I know of . . . oh, he had his run-ins, but so does every hot-blooded werewolf his age. I don't know . . . our parents are out of state right now on vacation. I hate to worry them until we know for sure that something happened."
"Do you by chance know his blood type?" While Weres' blood was of a different makeup than humans, we stil could cross match and classify the types.
"That I can help you with," she said softly. "He was type U-7. Same as me. I needed a transfusion during the birth of my triplets, and he was the only match around." Tears flickered in her eyes. "Find him, please. He's a good boy. He's never been high ranking in the Pack, but he's worked hard for what little he's got. I love him."
Chase nodded. "We'l do our best. Do you know where he likes to hang out, by any chance?"
"The Loco Lobo Lounge--it's a Pack-only joint. And let's see . . . the bowling al ey. He bowls a mean game. I don't have time to check out every place my little brother frequents."
"Thank you, then. We'l be in touch with you as soon as we find out anything. Meanwhile, you might want to go over to your brother's apartment. It's . . ."
Chase's voice dropped. "I won't lie to you. There's blood, and the place has been trashed."
Madge wavered. "Do you think he's alive?"
Chase glanced at me. I cleared my throat. "We don't know. We hope so, Mrs. Renault. If he is alive, we'l do our best to find him and bring him home."
As we walked away, leaving her with tears trailing down her face, I felt like we'd just piled one more unbearable burden on the woman's shoulders.
"How do you do this?" I asked. "How do you go to them, tel them that their life is about to fal apart? How do you handle it?
He was silent for a moment. Then, "I figure that if I do it, at least somebody compassionate wil be tel ing them the bad news. They won't get a cal ous attitude from me."
It was my turn to be silent. As I climbed back in the Jeep, deep in thought, Chase took off for the FH-CSI headquarters, and I glanced back at Menol y and Vanzir. "Life fucking sucks sometimes," I whispered.
"Yeah, I kind of know that." Menol y smiled, her fangs descending. "I get to remember that every night and every morning, when the sunset cal s, when the daylight chases me into sleep."
Vanzir pointed at his neck. "This creature beneath my skin . . . he kind of underscores your thought, too."
I looked at both of them. "Yeah. I get it. Okay, let's head home for the night. Menol y, you want me to drop you off at the bar?"
She shook her head. "I need to get my Jag. You going to be okay?"
I smiled faintly. "Somehow I can't imagine not being okay anymore. I've got one of the Harvestmen guarding my back. Even if I die, I'm guaranteed a good job in the afterlife, you know?"
My laughter just a tad on the verge of hysterical, I pul ed out, and we headed for home.
By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I trudged in and dropped in a chair at the kitchen table. Menol y waved, grabbed her keys, and headed for the bar. Vanzir had stopped at the shed-turned-studio apartment where he, Roz, and Shamas shared quarters.
Iris took one look at me and put on the teakettle. Then, before I could say a word, she plopped Maggie--who was playing with her Barbie that had a replacement head in the form of Yoda--into my arms and began to forage in the cupboards. For once, she said nothing about my junk food habit, just set a bowl of Cheetos in front of me.
I buried my face in Maggie's soft, downy fur. The calico gargoyle was our child, our baby, our pet--al the innocence of the world rol ed up into one cute and destructive little package. But even she wouldn't stay that way, and she was--like cats and wolves--a predator at heart. But right now, she was just a baby, laughing and playing with her Yobie dol , as she cal ed it, and shrieking as she ran her fingers through my short spiky hair.
"Deeyaya! Ca-yee-ko!" She seemed delighted with my new style, and I suddenly realized that some of my colors matched her own fur.
"Yes, baby, that's right. Delilah's a calico now!" I laughed then, blowing on her bel y and tickling under her chin. We'd final y taught her not to bite, though she stil made mistakes at times, but she just shrieked again, laughing. Then, with a yawn so big I could have seen her tonsils--if she had any--she began to close her eyes. I handed her back to Iris.
"I think she's ready for bed."
"Yes, the cream drink puts her to sleep when it's late and she's tuckered out." Iris carried her into her room, where Maggie slept at night, and a few minutes later returned. "Maggie's already asleep. She had a hard day helping me weed the garden and clean house. Of course, her help was more hindrance, but I don't mind. And Tril ian and Morio took her out for a walk--they put her on a leash, which I don't think is necessary at this time--she can barely toddle--but it makes them feel more secure. Her leg muscles are starting to strengthen up some. Another year or two, and she'l be waddling around without a problem."
