"If it starts getting worse again, you'll tell me - and you'll tell Bran."
"I can do that."
"All right." She brushed off the back of his shirt, as if there were some lint or something on it and not as though her hands were hungry for the warmth of his skin. "Sleep or breakfast?" she asked briskly. "We have two hours before the FBI picks us up and takes us to the morgue."
THE SMALL, SHEET-COVERED body on the table smelled of rotting flesh, salt, and fish. None of which managed to quite cover up the lingering scent of terror. From the size of the corpse, Anna thought he might have been seven or eight.
Anna had been Changed by rape both physical and metaphorical. She had served three years in a pack led by a madwoman, during which time death had become something to look forward to, an end to pain. Charles had changed all of that - and Anna appreciated the irony that the Marrok's Wolfkiller, arguably the most feared werewolf in the world, had made her safe and made her want to live.
Irony aside, Anna knew death. The morgue smelled of it, as well as a healthy dose of antiseptic, latex gloves, and body fluids. When they had entered the small viewing room, the scent of a little boy added itself to the mix, a boy who rightfully should be out playing with his friends and instead bore the unmistakable signs of autopsy.
Beside her, Brother Wolf growled, the sound low enough that she didn't think any of the humans heard it. He'd come as wolf - again. Anna dug her fingers through the fur of his neck and swallowed hard, trying to focus on something besides the little body on the table. Even worry about her mate was better than a dead child.
Charles promised that he'd let her know if it got worse - but he hadn't reopened the bond between them, not even wide enough that he could talk to her while he was in wolf shape.
"His family were supposed to pick him up today," said the man who'd let them in. He was dressed in scrubs that were clean and fresh - either he was just beginning his day, or he'd changed for them. "When I explained to them that a werewolf had offered to look for clues we couldn't find, it was not difficult to persuade them to leave him here until tomorrow."
"You didn't tell his parents they were bringing me, too?" said the witch, who looked like she'd come right out of a 1970s sitcom - middle-aged, a little dumpy, a little rumpled, hair an improbable shade of red, and wearing clothes that didn't quite fit. "The werewolf is incidental and, I might add, begged the witch to come - and you didn't think to mention me?" The death threat in her voice did a fair job of removing any sense of comedy, though Anna couldn't help but think of Sleeping Beauty and the evil fairy who was offended because she wasn't invited.
Anna didn't like witches on the whole. They smelled of other people's pain and they liked causing problems. But even if this one hadn't been a witch, she doubted she'd have liked her.
Dr. Fuller - Anna had missed Leslie's introduction of their contact at the morgue while absorbing the smells of the place, but he wore a name tag - frowned. "He comes from a staunch Baptist family. Werewolves were a big stretch for them already. I didn't think they'd have taken to the idea of a witch at all well."
The witch smiled. "Probably not," she agreed cheerfully, just as if she hadn't taken offense a moment before.
Isaac had warned Anna that his witch of choice was a little unstable. He'd also told her that the witch wasn't all that powerful, so the harm she could do was minimal. He had another witch who worked upon occasion for his pack, but that one was secretive and a lot more dangerous. The witch here now, Caitlin (last name withheld), would tell them everything she found out, just to prove how much she knew. The other would keep it to herself for later use or just for her own amusement, which wouldn't do Lizzie any good at all.
"Tell them we appreciate their cooperation," said Heuter, the younger Cantrip agent, who had shown up as they were waiting for the witch in front of the building where the county morgue resided. He'd claimed that someone told