The Old One howled in the back of my mind. "I can imagine them seeing this as a Temple of Death, no problem."
"But they do not know what we truly do, for this is also a Sanctuary for Life." She laughed easily. "Between this club and all the animal freedom groups combined, who do you think has spent more money providing habitats for the endangered and threatened species out there?"
"Is this a trick question?" I frowned. "They do."
"No, they donot" The skin tightened around her eyes. "The area where I went hunting a snow moose, for example, is all a private preserve purchased and maintained through this club. Our members, either through the club or on their own, have placed acres and acres of threatened wetlands and forests into park systems, both public and private. Did you realize that since the latter half of the twentieth century it's been the hunters and the licensing fees they pay that has guaranteed wildlife management and, in many cases, actually allowed the animal population to exceed that of colonial times?"
I sat back and did my best to look contrite. "No, I did not realize that."
"It's true." She casually waved her hand toward the other patrons in the bar. "Our membership is also involved in many philanthropic projects right here in Seattle. Part of that is reflected in our willingness to employ someone like Albion."
"Do you think someone took this 'preserve' idea too far with Albion and killed him?"
"I hope not." She leaned forward and I brought my ear close to her mouth. "In a place like this there are always rumors of someone having hunted the most dangerous prey. Liquor dreams and vaporware, but it is possible someone decided to make them real. If they did, I'm responsible because I brought him here."
I leaned back and took a pull on my beer. I knew from Stealth's description of the weapon that killed Albion that commissioning it would have required the sort of money that someone in the Pacific Northwest Hunting Club certainly would possess. It also struck me as absolutely possible that a member could have decided that harvesting a little two-footed quarry in the city beat freezing in Alaska to bag a rack of antlers. Of course, the one thing I knew that she did not was that Albion was only the latest in a series.
"These stories ever center on one person here?"
She looked up and didn't even try to hide her surprise. "No, not that I know of." She took a sip. "This is very disturbing." She concentrated, her dark brows arrowing down toward the bridge of her nose. "Come with me and we will discuss this with the Director."
I glanced at my watch, then shook my head. "Can't. I'm meeting someone. Albion's not going anywhere. This can wait for a day or so."
She nodded, then stared down at her glass and the liquid still left in it. "Are you free tomorrow night? I can arrange for us to meet with the Director then." Her expression sharpened and her nostrils flared as she watched me out of the corner of her eye. "You will be my guest tomorrow evening for dinner."
I waved the offer off. "Not necessary, Ms. Reece, really."
"I insist." Her smile warmed and warmed me. "You intrigue me. You bluff your way in here, then admit your deception. You are different from most."
"Exotic?"
"Challenging, Mr…"
"Kies, Wolfgang Kies."
"Accept, Mr. Kies. Anyone here can tell you that, as a hunter, I am relentless."
"So I am in your sights?"
She eyed me very frankly and the Old One started a low growl in the back of my head. "You are too imaginative to be a literalist, Mr. Kies. I find pursuit more thrilling than a kill, and my taste in men does not run to corpses."
I caught the invitation in her voice, and the warning that whatever happened would be on her terms, and her terms alone. "Seven, here?"
She took up my left hand and gave it a squeeze. "Twenty-four hours, then."
I nodded and gave her a kiss on the cheek. As I walked away from the club, Albion became a ghost. Learning who killed him had become immaterial as a reason for my willingness to meet Selene Reece the next night. She knew it, I knew it.
Wolf season was open.
IV
Wolf season almost closed again because Lynn's great-aunt Sadie tried to get me into a captive breeding program. "Oh, Wolfgang, you are such a gentleman. You two make a lovely couple. You'll have wonderful children-they'll be smart and handsome."
Luckily Lynn fended off her aunt's comments, which left me time to deal with the Old One. For some reason he had joined forces with Sadie and spent most of the evening divided between complaining that my prime rib was too well done and praising Lynn.This is the bitch for you, Longtooth. Her eyes are bright, her ruddy coat is long, and she is cunning. Your pups will be strong and have sharp teeth.
I was sure Lynn, who had once mentioned a desire to breast feed children, would love that last bit. Fortunately, Sadie later started talking about the twenty-two cats who lived with her, which cooled the Old One's opinion of his ally. Even so, through the rest of the evening, he yipped encouragingly any time Lynn did anything he felt should make me proud.
The dreams I had enjoyed earlier in the day did not turn out to be literally prophetic, but they functioned perfectly in an allegorical sense. Lynn and I, after we dropped off her great-aunt, spent some time wandering through the market, laughing about what her aunt had said. As Lynn doesn't know about the Old One yet, I didn't tell her his comments, but I let my laughter batter him into grumbling retreat. That was good because we later retreated to my apartment and engaged in activities that would have had him yipping encouragement to Lynn on a nearly incessant basis.
Lynn woke me up early-the hour on the clock wasn't even close to double digits-then showered and headed off to work. She normally didn't spend the full evening with me because she shared a corporate suite with her folks. With Aunt Sadie using her room, the In-golds chose to believe Lynn's story that she would stay the night with a friend.
She asked if she'd see me later, but I told her Raven was coming back into town and I had something to do. Because we'd met in the course of Raven, Stealth, and I saving her from kidnappers, she has a vague idea of what I do. Given that I was planning to meet Selene later, I decided that not clarifying my plans was a good thing.
I crashed for another couple of hours, then got up close to noon. I decided that I needed a new suit for the night's adventure, so I dressed quickly and headed out. The Old One's grumbling started to give me a headache, but I managed to ignore him and it. Hopping into the Fenris, I headed downtown and started a walking tour of the haberdasheries.
After a few false starts I settled on a French-cut black suit with double-breasted blazer. The tailor who measured me for alterations asked if I would be "heavy" or "thick" while wearing it, but I shook my head. Wearing a gun or a kevlar vest was not in order for dinner at one of the city's most elegant clubs. I picked out a tie and shirt to go with the suit, then had lunch and a beer at Kell's while the tailor worked on the alterations.
As night began to creep close, it brought with it a sense of impending doom. Normally I would have put it down to Stealth being in the vicinity, but I suspected that Lynn and Selene were at the root of it. As I thought things over, I could see myself speeding in the Fenris toward a cliff with a nasty drop-off. A cloud of dust obscured what was behind me, and I had the distinct feeling that it hid an equally devastating drop.
I knew I loved Lynn and I hoped she felt the same way about me. I had never fallen so hard for a woman, nor had I ever lasted as long with one. Most women decided I was trouble and gave me walking papers before things became serious. Getting rejected like thatdid hurt, but we usually managed to part on friendly terms, which helped take a lot of the sting out of it. Besides, plenty of other women were willing to offer me solace, so I learned to live within the myth that someday I'd find the woman meant for me.