Chapter 4
Two floors up, I was greeted by a chirp and maaarow as Buster came down the stairs. I bent down to pet her, and she jumped to my shoulder. With a small wince as the tips of her claws penetrated the material of my shirt, I stood up and continued to the cafeteria floor.
As we entered, I was greeted by an unusual sight.
A giant wolf was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, staring at the empty food line.
It was between regular meal hours, and the cafeteria crew was clearly in the kitchen, working on dinner.
The wolf was tan with a black back and top of head, and it was enormous.
At least three hundred pounds. Then it turned and looked at us.
My cat chirped and the wolf chuffed. But his intent was curious, wistful, and mildly hungry.
“Oh,” I said as the lightbulb went off. “You must be the very famous Awasos.”
The wolf came to all four feet and trotted our way, giving me a big sniff. Buster growled, just a bit, and the wolf sat back down. Something had clearly been communicated in a language I didn’t speak, but an understanding seemed to have been reached.
“I’m Craig, Vesta’s boyfriend. This is Buster.”
Awasos looked at me, clearly unimpressed. “And you’re hungry for a snack. Me too.”
Buster chirped her own affirmation. “Okay. Snacks all around. Let me see what I can do.”
I put Buster on the floor and slipped into the kitchen. The three women and two men greeted me with smiles and nods. It pays to make friends with the food people.
Five minutes later, I stepped out of the kitchen with a plate of sliced ham and the remaining twelve pounds of a fifteen-pound ham. The cat and wolf were both sitting on the floor, waiting for me.
I set a big sheet of baking parchment on the floor, put the ham on top, and stepped over toward Buster. Awasos slipped forward and bit into the big chunk of pig while I sat cross-legged and fed Buster some bits of ham while biting into some myself.
That’s how the Gordon and O’Carroll squads found us another five minutes later.
“You didn’t hurt him, did you?” Cora asked me, hands on her hips.
“Yes, I did… I smacked a three-hundred-pound wolf around with a ham. See how beaten down he is?” I asked. “The key point here is that he didn’t hurt me.”
Awasos stopped chewing long enough to lick my upper arm, then dove back into his personal pig roast.
“Can you feel the intent of nonhumans?” Vesta’s dad asked me.
“Yeah. It’s how I’ve been successful wrangling big toothy lizards and dangerous birds. This one is much easier to read because of how smart he is. My cat is too. Lizards and axeheads are pretty limited. Not stupid so much as just very linear and lacking in mental detail. Turns out he was hungry.”
“He’s always hungry,” Chris said with a snort. “How’d you get him a ham?”
“I asked the cooks.”
“You probably smiled too,” Vesta suggested.
“Um, ah, yeah. Why wouldn’t I smile?”
“No reason. Just the cafeteria ladies seem to melt when you smile at them,” she said.
“I’ll have you know it was one of the guys that handed me the ham,” I said. Of course, the senior cook was a lady, and she had been the one to direct him to give me the ham. But that could stay unsaid.
“Sure,” Vesta said, completely and utterly unconvinced. She was also worried about something. Very worried.
I was about to ask but her eyes told me to keep quiet for the moment. Her eyes, her intent, and most likely our personal connection.
I handed her my plate of ham. She smiled at the gift of food although it wasn’t enough of a smile to erase her worries, and that fed my own fears.
“So. How’s things?” I asked casually.
“Well, I’m hungry too, so come on, kids,” Chris said, heading for the kitchen, his twins in tow. It was contrived, a fact made clearer by Cora glancing over her shoulder at us, her face a mask of curiosity.
“That’s not suspicious or anything,” I said, side-eyeing my girlfriend.
Her dad sighed. “He’s not great at subterfuge.”
“I’m guessing that there’s something we need to talk about?” I asked.
“There is. Somehow, I got elected to broach the topic,” he said, running a hand through his white hair.
My instant thought was a forced breakup by the parents. Vesta’s head shot up, her blue eyes pinning me. “No. Not happening,” she said, crossing her arms.
Her father looked back and forth between us, confused.
“You know, people say it’s weird when your mother does that to me…
now I know what they’re talking about. Okay.
Whatever that was, this is apparently not that.
Craig, Omega has dug out more clues from the snippets of code that together formed the simulator program.
We have some leads about who was involved in the dance night attack, but the thing is… they’re all on Greenacres.”
“Okay,” I said, not at all shocked that the clues about Greenacres were on Greenacres.
“He means that we need to send investigators to Golf Alpha,” Vesta said.
“Hmm, that’s not easy. They won’t blend in. Who were you thinking?”
“Well, we need a trained, experienced investigator who isn’t dependent upon magic in any way,” her dad said. “And a local guide. Trustworthy and capable.”
“Oh,” I said as it hit me. “You mean Agent Jensen and me.”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
Special Agent Caeco Jensen was tailor-made for the job—literally. Genetically engineered to be stronger, faster, and equipped with better senses, plus she had some cybernetic shit going on unless I missed my guess.
“When? It would be best if we prepared a little first,” I said.
“Well, sooner than later, but the end of semester testing is next week, so it will wait till after that, plus she is finishing a case. What preparations do you foresee?” he asked.
“A little conditioning and some training for Agent Jensen.”
“She trains all the time,” he said.
“Sure, which is awesome. But living in higher gravity around the clock is harder than it seems. She’s likely stronger than I am, but that extra seventeen to twenty percent weight drags on all your body systems all the time.
Blood pools in your legs and feet, your heart pumps lots harder, and it’s a little harder to breathe.
The fact that the atmosphere is denser means there’s more oxygen, so that’s a plus.
Hmm. Maybe it won’t have a big effect on her. ”
“She trains in a plate carrier that weighs twenty pounds,” Vesta’s dad said.
“Okay, that’s probably close to her extra Greenacres weight. So that just leaves some planetary cultural stuff to go over.”
“Craig, it will be dangerous for you,” Vesta protested. “People know you.”
“True. Maybe we can alter my appearance a bit, and if we’re efficient, we can be on and off planet as quick as possible. How would we get there?”
“We have lots of options,” her dad said. “We haven’t worked out details because, well, we want your input. Today was about checking in on your willingness.”
“Oh, hell yeah. I want answers and I know my planet. I’m guessing most of the leads are in Center Portal, right?”
He nodded. Vesta looked miserable.
“I know that little city very, very well. Mom…” I glitched a bit as I said that, then carried on. “Mom took me with her on healing calls and after that attack by the Adversary that killed all those people, Dad and I spent a lot of time there.”
“Craig,” Vesta said, a whole world of emotion in one word.
“Vesta, it’ll be okay. We’ll look at the list of leads, make a plan, then make a backup plan, and then a third plan for when the first two go to shit.
Rumor has it that Agent Jensen is a pretty dangerous person.
Experienced and, let’s face it, kind of designed for the job.
I don’t know about investigations, but I can read intent, so I’ll know who’s looking to turn on us or rip us off.
And the two of you can be waiting on Earth to pull us out, right? ”
“But I won’t be there,” Vesta said.
“You wouldn’t have your magic, and your werewolf traits would be dampened by the lack of magic.
If there was no other choice then yes, sure, because you’re adaptable and could have rubies, but I think stealth will be paramount and neither you nor I is a trained investigator.
We need speed of action. And you would be distracting to me, um, ’cause, well,” I said, waving a hand up and down her form. “Agent Jensen won’t be.”
“She better not,” Vesta growled, which told me how upset she really was.
Usually, werewolves are very jealous in the early days of a mating, but when and if a bond forms, it goes way, way down. Our bond formed fast—like really fast. Vesta wasn’t currently the dangerous jealous type and even the few times she had been, it hadn’t been over a grown woman twice our age.
The door to the kitchen opened and the Gordons came back into the main room.
“So?” the twin’s dad asked.
“It’s a go,” Vesta’s dad answered.
“And these two want to know the score,” the God Hammer said, nodding at his kids. “I agree.”
Vesta’s dad sighed and turned to me. “The word is out on Vesta being here, at least in the supernatural world. Things will change fast. She’ll need more people watching out for her. We’ll send you out during the Solstice break and she’ll be home with us, but next semester is a whole new game.”
“As long as they don’t tell the world,” I agreed.
He held my eyes for a second, then nodded. His intent was moderately impressed and surprised by my answer. Gordon’s was too, although he was also mildly annoyed.
Before either father could explain, Vesta spoke first. “Craig’s mother is apparently alive. And it was Craig who was the target of the attack at our Parents’ Weekend dance.”
“Why?” Cora asked immediately. “Why kidnap him? Is it that third protocol?”
“It is,” Vesta answered. “Craig, why don’t you just demonstrate it rather than me trying to explain it?”
I looked around the room and then spotted a target. “See that coffee mug on the buffet table over there?”
Everyone turned and looked where I was pointing. “Yeah,” Wulf said. Cora just nodded.