Vision in Silver(199)

            Feeling the prickling along one side of her back, she hoped they would have that time.


* * *

            “Arooeeooeeoo! Arooeeooeeoo!”

            Tess hurried out of the back door of A Little Bite with the coffee and bag of food she’d put together for Meg and Sam. And Skippy, who was the designated watch Wolf today.

            “Meg isn’t there yet, Skippy,” Tess said as she walked toward the juvenile Wolf sitting by the back door of the Liaison’s Office.

            He turned his head, stared at Tess for a full count of five, then continued his yodeling arroo.

            Sometimes his antics amused her. But there was nothing amusing about today, not with what Simon had to tell Lieutenant Montgomery. And now Vlad was holding the phone because someone wanted to talk to Simon—and she’d been asked to deliver the message and distract Meg and the youngsters.

            Come on, Simon. How long does it take for a human doctor to figure out you’re sore and bruised and you won’t be chasing down a deer anytime soon?

            Her hair started coiling and turned green. They had known a decision would be made in response to the trouble humans had caused with their lies, but receiving a decision through a phone call? That could not be good.

            “Arooee—”

            “I get to stay with Meg for the whole day.”

            Sam’s excited voice, coming from the direction of the Market Square, interrupted the yodel. Skippy turned his head, focused, and rushed toward Sam, Meg, and Simon as they came abreast of the garages.

            Simon said, “Not the whole . . . Skippy, no!” He stepped in front of Meg to prevent the youngster from knocking her down in his haste to greet her and get a cookie and get brushed and get whatever else Skippy got when he was supposed to be guarding Meg.

            True to his skippy brain, the youngster tried to go between Simon’s legs and ended up trapped when Simon tightened his knees.

            “Skippy!” Sam grabbed the Wolf by the scruff. “Don’t pester Meg!”

            What’s that human saying about a pot calling the kettle black? Tess thought.

            Sam might be younger than Skippy, but he was more dominant. Maybe because, mentally, they were more on a par than the other Wolves, Skippy responded better to Sam than he did to the adults.

            “Figured you wouldn’t get much breakfast this morning, so I brought some,” Tess said to Meg. Then she looked at Simon. <Someone wants to talk to you. Vlad is holding the phone.>

            <Tell him to take a message, and I’ll call—>

            <Now, Simon. It’s urgent.>

            He watched her hair as it coiled and changed colors. Then he touched Meg’s arm, a simple gesture that was somehow intimate.

            “I have to take a phone call.”

            “All right.” Meg watched him run to the back door of HGR. Then she looked at Sam. “You and Skippy wait for me by the office door.” Finally she looked at Tess. “There’s trouble.”

            No point denying it. “Yes.”

            “How bad?”

            “We won’t know until Simon is done with that phone call.”

            Meg hesitated. “Did I see this? When I fell and you listened, did I . . .”

            “No.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Believe me, Meg. If you had said anything, even a hint that this phone call would come, I’d have told someone.” Everyone. She had seen the look on Vlad’s face when he realized what was on the other end of the phone line. Harvesters were an old form of terra indigene that had adapted their masking shape many times to be the most effective hunters. Wolves were also an old form of terra indigene. So were the Sanguinati.