A toilet flushed, water ran, and then another man joined them. Shorter, leaner, and younger than Burke, the man had a full head of slightly curly, medium brown hair—but the fierce-friendly look in the blue eyes was similar enough to say family.
“Gentlemen, this is Shamus David Burke, a relative of mine who’s visiting from Brittania. He’s in law enforcement over there, so I thought his insights might be useful. Shady, this is Lieutenant Crispin James Montgomery and his officers, Karl Kowalski and Michael Debany. They handle most of the interaction with the Lakeside Courtyard. The man carefully inspecting that pastry is Commander Louis Gresh, who’s in charge of the bomb squad. The pastries are fresh, Commander. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“That you don’t check food for unwelcome surprises just proves you’ve never had children,” Louis replied. He bit into the pastry and chewed with care.
“The other man poking at his food is Pete Denby, an attorney who recently relocated from the Midwest Region.”
“Who also has children,” Pete said, smiling.
“And the only man unconnected to law enforcement is Dr. Dominic Lorenzo, who is currently working on the governor’s task force to assist the cassandra sangue in this part of the Northeast Region.” Burke waited until they were all seated. Then he folded his hands and rested them on the dining room table. “Lieutenant Montgomery already knows what’s at stake. Before we discuss anything, you all need to understand that you can’t share this information with anyone, for any reason. Not friends, not family, not colleagues. If you can’t agree to that, walk away now because . . .”
“Because everyone in Lakeside will be at risk,” Lorenzo said, sounding irritable. “Same song, different day.”
“Actually, every human on the continent of Thaisia will be at risk,” Burke said, the mild voice at odds with the bright fierceness in his eyes.
Silence. Then, matching Burke’s mild tone, Shady said, “Are we talking about extinction, Douglas?”
Burke nodded.
Lorenzo swallowed hard. Pete pushed aside the plate with the pastry.
Louis let out a shuddering breath. “Gods above and below, talk about a bomb. What are the odds that we’re going to lose control of this?”
“About even,” Burke replied. “Maybe less.”
Monty looked at his men. “This isn’t a surprise to you.”
“Not really,” Kowalski said. “We’ve noticed—”
Burke raised a hand. “Let’s be clear about who is staying before we get into this.” He looked at Lorenzo.
Lorenzo thought for a moment, then pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m carrying enough secrets. You need to keep what you know within a tight circle, and I’m no longer sure when someone asks me questions about the Lakeside Courtyard or about blood prophets if they’re asking out of curiosity, out of professional necessity, or because they’re a member of the Humans First and Last movement trying to ferret out information that can be used against the Others. When I have to travel for the task force, I’m traveling alone. It would be too easy to be waylaid and . . . interrogated.”
Monty wanted someone to make a joke, to say that Lorenzo was building a plot worthy of a thriller with talk of interrogations. But no one made a joke—mostly because Pete Denby had been run off the road, presumably by members of the HFL, when he’d packed up his family and bolted for Lakeside after helping Burke uncover information about a man called the Controller.
“Understood.” Burke hesitated. “Ask Simon Wolfgard for a free pass through the wild country. I think he’ll know what that means. Roads that you’ll find on a map are roads humans can use. But there are unmarked roads that lead to places humans should not go. If you think you’re being followed, turn down one of those unmarked roads, roll down a window and start shouting, honk the horn, do anything to gain the attention of the terra indigene before other humans catch up to you. Under those circumstances, you have a better chance of surviving an encounter with the Others than with humans.”
Lorenzo nodded. “Good luck.” He started to walk out of the room, then stopped. “If any of you should need discreet medical attention, you can count on me to not ask questions.”
“Appreciate that,” Burke said.
They waited until Lorenzo closed the front door. Waited a little longer, listening to the car start in the driveway attached to the other half of the duplex.
“Anyone else?” Burke asked. They all shook their heads. “Then let’s start local and work up to the end of the world as we know it. Lieutenant? You have anything to report?”
Monty poured coffee he didn’t want in order to give himself a little time. “The Courtyard took possession of the two-family house on Crowfield Avenue. The deal is done, the previous owner has been paid, and the Denbys will be moving in soon. So will Karl and Ruthie.”
Pete nodded. “Yesterday the owner of the stone apartment buildings on either side of the double accepted the Courtyard’s offer for those dwellings. Since the Business Association is planning to pay cash for those buildings, I expect we’ll be able to expedite the paperwork and take possession by the end of the month. The apartments in those buildings have two bedrooms, Lieutenant. Something to think about with Lizzy being here for good.”
Monty had considered whether he’d take one of the apartments if Simon Wolfgard offered it. Lots of practical reasons to accept—and reasons to keep some distance from the Others. For one thing, there wouldn’t be much division between work and home if he lived across the street from the Courtyard and had Kowalski and Denby—and probably Debany as well—for next-door neighbors.
But they would be good neighbors, he thought. And police living so close to the Courtyard might be a deterrent to trouble. But none of us are talking about where the children will go to school next year—assuming they’ll be safe going to a city-run school, or even a private one run by humans. After all, anyone living in a building owned by the Others will be considered a Wolf lover, and prejudice is mounting against anyone who supports working with the terra indigene in any way.
He and Lizzy needed a different place to live, and he would have to weigh the pros and cons carefully before making a decision. But that would have to wait.
“Next?” Burke asked.
“The Courtyard’s first guests are arriving next week,” Kowalski said. “Some Wolves from the Addirondak Mountain packs. No one mentioned other kinds of terra indigene coming in at the same time. Michael and I got the impression that we were expected to be visible in the stores and around the Market Square, at least for a little while each day.”
“They’re coming to interact with humans,” Monty said. “It makes sense Wolfgard would want to have you around.”
“Is this an invitation-only sort of thing?” Shady asked. “I’ve never seen a Courtyard or had a casual interaction with one of the terra indigene. I’d like the opportunity. The dealings I had with a few of the Others when some of the cassandra sangue were . . . channeled . . . to Brittania were tense experiences for all the humans who were helping with the rescue. Except for the people who live along the border or the coast, most of Brittania’s citizens have never come in contact with the Others. Considering what is going on in the world right now, I’d like some firsthand experience in a less life-and-death situation.”
Catching Burke’s look, Monty said, “I’ll ask Simon Wolfgard about allowing us to bring in guests.”
“Anything of concern about the folks on Great Island or information about the River Road Community?” Burke asked.