It took a moment for him to realize she meant Tina. “She was with you?”
“Yes. I have a feeling you and I are after the same guy. But you aren’t authorized to take him out. I checked with my superiors. There’s no record of an alternate license being issued.”
“License …?”
“For hunting werewolves.”
“Since when do we need a license?”
“Since when don’t you? The Cabals regulate the hunting of all werewolves and vampires. And if you pretend you don’t know what a Cabal is …”
“Of course I do. But I don’t know nothing about them regulating werewolf hunting.”
“Then I’d suggest you look into it, because if you’re caught? The penalty is stiff, as you might imagine.”
He paled.
Nick mouthed a question to Vanessa, who nodded.
“So that’s what you’re doing, then,” she said. “Hunting vermin? Or is it a bounty?”
“Both.”
“Hunting vermin for a bounty? Or just this particular werewolf?”
The man shrugged. “Any werewolf would do. The guy just wants them exterminated, and he’s willing to pay to see it happen. Win-win.”
“Exterminated?” Vanessa said.
“Well, controlled. You can’t just wipe them out, right? Not that I’d argue if you could. World would be a better place without those brutes.”
Nick tried not to react. This was something he couldn’t get used to. When he was growing up, the Pack had kept itself separate from the greater supernatural world, so he’d never had cause to wonder what others thought of them. Then the Pack rejoined the interracial council, and he’d found out exactly what they thought.
“So someone’s putting out bounties on werewolves,” Vanessa said. “Besides general cleanup, what’s his motivation?”
The guy’s face screwed up in confusion. “Motivation?”
“Did this guy lose someone to a werewolf?”
“Not that I know of. He just doesn’t like them. He considers it his … what’s it called? Civic duty. As a supernatural.”
Nick mouthed another question.
“Let me step back, then,” Vanessa said. “Do you know who you’re hunting?”
“It’s not a who. It’s a what. Werewolves aren’t human. You can’t think of them that way.”
Nick rocked on the balls of his feet.
“Let’s pretend it’s a who,” Vanessa said. “For simplicity’s sake. Do you know the identity of the one you’re hunting now?”
A pause. A long one. Then, “Pete does.”
“Pete?”
“The team captain. He gets all that intel. We’re not supposed to ask.”
“Do you know anything about it? How he found out the guy’s a werewolf? Who told him where to find him?”
More silence. Then, defensively, “That’s not how it works. The team doesn’t get details.”
Vanessa prodded, but more wasn’t forthcoming. The facts seemed clear enough. Someone was putting out bounties on werewolves and had set these guys on Malcolm’s tail. Then Malcolm discovered he had two groups to contend with—the bounty hunters and whoever Tina worked for—and used one to distract the other while he fled.
11. VANESSA
Tina was dead. Murdered horribly. Vanessa kept thinking, What if we’d been a few minutes quicker? What if we hadn’t been so careful? It wouldn’t have made a difference. She knew that. Yet logic didn’t help, because she’d seen Tina alive, seen her moving, and there was part of her that insisted her operative could have been saved. That she’d failed.
Dwelling on that was self-indulgent, though. There was a job to do—stopping Tina’s killer. Grief would come later.
It wasn’t just Malcolm they needed to worry about now. Vanessa was with a werewolf … and there were three idiots in town on a werewolf hunt.
Vanessa could tell that conversation had upset Nick. No one wants to think another person would hunt them down as “vermin.” But she hadn’t expected him to seem quite so shocked. Because she wasn’t. That’s when she realized that no matter how liberal she considered her own views, she still supported the stereotypes by not being shocked, not being outraged.
As they walked out of the building, she wanted to tell Nick she’d never heard of such bounties, that these men were clearly thugs of the lowest order. Except she’d be lying. Not about the thugs part. They obviously were. But supernaturals did hunt werewolves and vampires. Not often, and they usually weren’t successful. Given that there were only a few dozen of each on the continent, more than the very rare death would be noticed, and the werewolves and vampires would retaliate.
They should retaliate. Put an end to it. It wasn’t as if the hunters would fight back. They were like humans going after big game. They knew, if their prey got within ten feet of them, they’d be dead. So why didn’t werewolves and vampires put a scare into the hunters? Because people like the Cabals and Rhys’s teams didn’t bother to warn them. Didn’t want to stir them up, because that would just be inconvenient.
As they neared their rented car, Vanessa said, “It does happen.”
Nick looked over, his dark brows gathering.
“Hunting werewolves,” she said. “And vampires. I’ve heard of it.”
She braced for him to ask why they didn’t tell the Pack.
“I’ve heard of it, too,” he said. “But not in North America. It’s a big problem in areas without a Pack, and there are plenty of those. Supernaturals go there to hunt. Elena even found an encrypted Web site offering tours.” His lip curled. “We’d never heard of it here, though. I’ll have to let Elena know.”
And that was it. No blame. No accusation. He didn’t complain because it was exactly what he’d come to expect. This was how werewolves were treated.
“You should have been told,” Vanessa said. “Your Pack, that is.”
Nick shrugged and opened the rental car door. “We’ll handle it.”
They got into the car.
“It shouldn’t happen in the first place,” she said. “They’re redneck idiots. If they were human, they’d be out hunting illegal immigrants or small-time crooks. They just need an excuse.”
“Oh, I know. It’s not like werewolves have never done that themselves.” He started the car. “Historically, we hunted mutts—outside werewolves. They’d say it was to keep them in line, but really, the Pack wolves were like these guys. They wanted to hunt, so they came up with an excuse.”
Nick drove out of the parking spot. “We have a Pack member now whose dad was killed in a mutt hunt when he was fifteen. The hunters knew his father had a kid. Didn’t care. They wanted to kill him, too. He’s lucky he escaped.” He glanced over. “Want to guess who was in charge of that hunt?”
“Malcolm.”
“Yep. So that’s another Pack wolf we aren’t telling about his return. Too many folks lined up to kill the bastard already.” He reached the road and turned left. “Speaking of Malcolm, that’s my priority here. If Elena wants to come out and handle these losers, fine, but I’m guessing she’ll see it as a wild-goose chase. Easier to get to the root of it and work from there.”
“Find out who’s laying the bounties instead of hunting down three knuckleheads taking them.” Vanessa nodded. “She’s smart.”