“I considered holding them for justice,” Adam told us, told me, really. “But they had a kill list that included all of the humans associated with my people—children not excepted.” He looked at Sylvia. “Gabriel was on that list. You were not wrong to tell him that his association with us put him in danger.”
“Maybe not,” she said, “but I was wrong to expect that to matter to him.” She looked at me, and her lips quirked up. “A friend in danger is not someone who should be deserted. Safety is not always the right path.”
“They were willing to kill children?” Armstrong asked, not as if he were questioning Adam but as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
“Like Joshua at Jericho,” said Adam. I put my hand on his leg and squeezed it. “They felt that they needed to dig us out plant, root, and seed so that our corruption was truly destroyed. You’ll have to accept my word for it because the whiteboard went up with the winery where we were held.”
He paused. “There were three fresh graves in the vineyard that held some of their own people. Maybe they objected—maybe they just got in the way. We didn’t kill them, we didn’t kill anyone until our escape. From the state of the bodies, the Cantrip agents in the graves died a couple of days before we were taken.”
“How did they get you all?” asked Asil.
“We thought they were government agents, so we did not initially respond with lethal force.” Adam breathed deeply, but it must not have helped because he got to his feet and began to pace. “That is a mistake, Agent Armstrong, that we will never make again. You might pass the word along.” For a moment, his menace was such that no one, not even me, dared take a deep breath. He shook his shoulders loose and spoke more moderately. “At any rate, we did not kill or harm anyone when we were taken. So two dead women and the dead man are the responsibility of either the Cantrip agents or the mercenaries they hired.”
“If you please, Mr. Hauptman,” said Armstrong. “Renegade Cantrip agents. My agency was not responsible for their actions, and both officially and unofficially, we find this business appalling.”
“I just bet you do.” Warren’s voice was heavy with rage. Warren was usually the voice of sanity in the pack.
“Warren,” said Adam—and Warren looked up, then away. “Do you need to leave?” It was a real question, not a reprimand, and Warren took it the way it was meant.
“You need Kyle here,” he said, his voice low and his head tipped slightly away from Adam’s. “In his legal capacity.”
“Not as our lawyer,” Adam said. “Not yet. But his presence is useful, yes. I’d like him to stay.”
“Then I’ll stay, too. I can deal.”
Adam looked at Tony. “I asked Sylvia to come because Gabriel was endangered. I asked you to stay because I do not want to keep the police in the dark about what happened. You are safer if you know everything. However, we cannot afford to let this go to trial in human courts. We … I will not allow it.”
Tony narrowed his eyes. “I am a servant of the law, Adam.”
“There will be hearings, just not in the human court system,” Adam told him. “I answer to a higher power—that power that kept werewolves from being the monsters Cantrip is afraid we are for all the years that humans knew nothing of us. If my actions are deemed excessive, I will pay for them with my life.”
“Those werewolves who killed that pedophile in Minnesota this past spring—they died within a few days of it. All of them. Natural causes, we were told, though their bodies were cremated very quickly and no autopsy was performed,” Armstrong said neutrally, his eyes on me rather than Adam.
“A force of nature, anyway,” I said obliquely. Charles was a force of nature, right?
“I’m a servant of the law, too, Tony,” Kyle said too hastily to be as smooth as his usual redirection. “And no one knows better than I how the law and justice do not, can not, always coincide. I swear to you now that werewolf justice is swifter and more just, if more brutal, than our court system can manage.” He leaned forward earnestly. “We humans are not equipped to deal with a werewolf fairly. And if the police had tried to arrest those men in Minnesota, some of them would have died. I am content that justice will be served in this case.”
There was a long pause.
“Even if I agree it was self-defense,” Tony said, “you have just confessed to killing federal agents. I am not qualified to give you a pass on that, Adam.”
“Agents who attacked law-abiding citizens without provocation,” murmured Kyle. “Adam is a security expert. I imagine that he has the attack on his house on camera somewhere.”
Adam grunted. “With nice face shots of several of the Cantrip agents, Gutstein informed me tonight. And we have Peter’s body.”
“Where is Peter?” I asked.
“Safe,” Adam told me. “They’d buried him in the vineyard next to their own dead. We dug him up, and arrangements are being made.”
“Suspicious deaths require autopsy,” said Tony.
Adam looked at him and nodded. “Yes. We’ll talk. There is nothing suspicious about his death. He was murdered right in front of me. He has a bullet hole in his forehead.”
No one said anything for a moment after that. The expression on Adam’s face might have accounted for the silence.
“I have the power to say that Cantrip and the federal government is satisfied that Adam acted in self-defense when he killed those people,” Armstrong said. “Mr. Brooks is right, it would be a political nightmare for Cantrip if the actions of these men were to come out even though they were not acting in any kind of official capacity.” He took a deep breath. “It would be a similar disaster for the werewolves. In the current climate, I don’t know that you could get a judge to declare self-defense, Mr. Hauptman. If the trial went to a jury, a decision either way could lead to riots and unrest that might break out into open fighting in the streets.”
Armstrong looked at something none of us could see, then he met my eyes and held them. “I am a federal agent, sworn to uphold the interests of my country. I am a patriot. I have seen fear and hatred cause men and women who have likewise so sworn to forget their oaths and give in to their hatred. I don’t want this to go to court.”
Tony threw up his hands. “I agree with you,” he told Armstrong. “Both about the self-defense and Adam’s chances in court—though if the case is kept local, I think he would do better than you think. Still, there are bodies.”
“The buried Cantrip agents were shot execution style, with the same gun that killed Peter,” Adam said.
“You run ballistics?” asked Tony.
“No.”
Tony frowned at him. “Then how—” Then he shook his head. “Never mind. But those aren’t the only bodies.”
Adam’s face became even more expressionless. “There will be no other bodies. After we escaped, there was a fire at the winery.”
Another silence followed.
“I can accept a separate justice,” Tony said, finally. “I’ve known you. I and my department have called you for help, and you have never failed us. I’ve seen you meet violence with soft words. And I’ve never seen you lie. I’m in agreement with Agent Armstrong. I have a few ideas, and I think if Armstrong is willing to help, we can sell this to the department.”
“You said there was a fire at the winery?” asked Armstrong.
Adam sat down and rubbed his hands over his face. “Yes. We are used to cleaning up our own messes. We’ve found fire to be very effective.”
“Teeth and the denser bones,” said Tony with extreme neutrality, “tend to show up after a fire.”
“I’d be very surprised if there are any teeth or bones,” I told him half-apologetically. Adam had left Elizaveta out of his explanation. “You don’t have to worry about that.”