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If he knew all that, Charles had been busy, because he was more current than Ariana had been when she left. Armstrong was watching him with sudden wariness. Apparently he hadn't known how much Asil knew.
"Did you kill them, Agent Armstrong?" I asked. Most people didn't know that werewolves could hear lies, and those who did thought I was human.
"No, ma'am. But my people were responsible for the cleanup. There was an anonymous call to my superiors." He grimaced. "I've spent most of the last twenty-four hours playing cleanup, catch-up - and all sorts of other things that end in -up when things go to hell."
Asil nodded at me. Like me, he'd heard the truth in the agent's voice. Armstrong had not killed them and "unhappy" was a very small word for what he was feeling about their deaths and the involvement of Cantrip agents in the whole thing. My nose could sense more than just lies. Emotions, especially strong emotions, have scents, too.
"You told the police that they wanted your husband to go after Senator Campbell, Ms. Hauptman," Armstrong said.
I lifted my chin. "That's right."
He shook his head. "Doesn't scan. These guys were the real deal, Ms. Hauptman. They make a lot of money by not shooting their mouths off. There is no way that they told you that."
Asil met my eyes. He knew how I got my information. He tilted his head a little and gave a shrug.
He was the dominant wolf in the room. If he didn't care what I told a federal agent about how werewolf magic works, maybe I shouldn't, either.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again, visions of being locked up in a white room somewhere with someone asking, "What is Adam looking at, Ms. Hauptman? Is it a triangle or a square?" in my head. It was probably the result of too much Mystery Science Theater 3000 at a young age, but there was also a real danger in telling people too much.
"You know how you told us that there were things you couldn't tell us?" I said. "It's like that. There are things I cannot reveal to you at this time. Need-to-know things."
Armstrong grunted, but he could hardly complain. "On a scale of one to ten, how sure are you that the threat was aimed at Campbell?"
"Zero," I told him, because I'd thought long and hard about this. "The threat was aimed at the werewolves. Campbell might be a secondary target - or maybe he was scheduled to be miraculously saved at the last moment. It's easy to thwart an assassination when you know the who, where, and when. I don't know why they picked Adam."
"He's become a public figure," murmured Asil. "People like him, and they trust him. When newspapers and magazines want to talk to a werewolf, they try for Adam because he's pretty and well-spoken. Three-quarters of the people interviewed on the streets of New York for a recent morning news story could pick Hauptman out of a lineup. Better than either of the last presidential candidates or the mayor of New York did."
"You think this was aimed at Adam specifically?" I asked.
Asil frowned at me. Maybe we weren't supposed to be talking in front of Agent Armstrong. "I think," he said slowly, "that we don't know enough."
"And our enemies know too much," I said. "They knew all of the pack - and there are a number of our members who aren't out. They came looking for Jesse and me. Where did they get their information?"
"Jesse?" Armstrong asked.
"Adam's daughter," I said. "She's not a werewolf. We'd gone out shopping, had a car wreck, and ended up at my garage, where Ben had come to tell us that the pack had been taken."
"Ben?"
I tipped my empty cup toward the werewolf stretched out on the floor near me, but not touching. Ben was pointedly not looking at Asil - though he was still keeping his body between us. "This is Ben. He was upstairs when the rent-an-army broke into our house and took out most of the pack in one fell swoop. He managed to get away and warn me."
There was a funny pause, and I looked up.
"I thought." Armstrong swallowed. "I thought that he was just a big dog. I like dogs."
I looked at Asil, then back at Armstrong. "You do know that Asil is a werewolf, too?"
The fed rubbed his face. "I'm too old for this. I've been up for twenty-four hours."
"Ben won't hurt you," I told him, just as Asil got up to put his empty cup on the low table between the chairs. Ben surged to his feet, growling - but with his head tilted so he didn't meet the more dominant wolf's eyes. Armstrong spilled his coffee, jerking away. The sudden move attracted Ben's attention, and he showed his fangs to the Cantrip agent.
"Armstrong, drop your eyes." Kyle's voice was calm and easy.
I reached for Ben's ruff, but as soon as my fingers got close, he slid away from my hand.
"It's my fault. We need to get this over with before someone gets hurt." Asil finished setting his cup down and looked at Ben, though he spoke to the rest of the room. "You will have to excuse us while this wolf and I have a talk." He reached down and snapped his fingers in front of Ben's face. "Come with me."
I stepped between them. Ben couldn't put himself between us again without knocking me over - so he nipped me on the back of my knee. A very quick nip, not enough to hurt, just a protest.
Asil tilted his head and smiled. "I do like you, Ms. Hauptman. You are not exactly what I expected, but I like you. By all means, come with us."
"What exactly are you going to settle?" asked Kyle, sounding a little hostile.
Asil examined him for a moment. "I won't hurt him, Mr. Brooks, but Ben is trying to protect Ms. Hauptman from me. There is no need, but he has to decide that himself. It will be a lot easier on him if we do this without an audience."
"It's okay," I told Kyle. "It's a good idea if we are likely to spend much time in each other's company." And I could question Asil without Agent Armstrong listening in - and he could question me.
"Guest room," suggested Kyle. "The one we were sleeping in. Apparently this house is low in rooms that are really possible to secure. Otherwise, you'll have to make do with a bathroom. Agent Armstrong and I can wait here."
I waved and took the lead out the door and up the stairs. Ben followed me as close as he could get without touching me, leaving Asil trailing behind us.
"Kyle Brooks is mated to your third," Asil said, as we hiked up the stairs, his voice thoughtful. "He is a lawyer. He was tied up and being tortured by a pair of professionals, and he managed to get himself loose and break one man's neck and knock out the other without killing him. Such an enterprising and ambitious thing for a human lawyer to do to a pair of men who make their livelihood from killing people. How wonderful that he managed it."
