Blood Trail

positioned herself between the woods and the girl. "You know someone is watching your family from those trees. Why are you changing? Why take such a stupid risk?"

    Rose rubbed at the dirt on her face. "But there's no one there now."

    "You can't know that!" Why the whole damned county wasn't in on the family secret, Vicki had no idea.

    "Yes, I can."

    "How?"

    "It's upwind."

    "Upwind? The woods are upwind? You can smell that there's no one there?"

    "That's right."

    Vicki reminded herself once again not to judge by human standards and decided to drop it. "I think you two should get home."

    "Maybe we should stay with you."

    "No." Vicki shook her head. "If you're with me, you'll influence what I see." She raised a hand to cut off Peter's protest and added, "Even if you don't intend to. Besides, it's too dangerous."

    Peter shrugged. "It's been safe enough since Ebon died."

    It took her a moment to understand. "You mean that two members of your family were shot out here and you're still coming in range of the woods? At night?"

    "We've been in pairs like Henry said," he protested. "And we've had the wind."

    / don't believe this. ... "From now on, until we know what's going on, no one comes out to these fields."

    "But we have to keep on eye on the sheep."

    "Why?" Vicki snapped, waving a hand toward the flock. "Do they do something?"

    "Besides eat and sleep? No, not really. But the reason there's so few commercial sheep operations in Canada is a problem with predators." Peter's lips drew back off his teeth and under his hair, his ears went back. "We don't have problems with predators."

    "But you've gotta keep a pretty constant eye out," Rose continued, "so someone's got to come out here."

    "Can't you move the sheep closer to the house?"

    "We rotate the pastures," Peter explained. "It doesn't quite work like that."

    "Bugger the pastures and bugger the sheep," Vicki said, her tone, in direct contrast to her words, reminiscent of a lecture on basic street safety to a kindergarten class. "Your lives are more important. Either leave these sheep alone for a while or move them closer to the house."

    Rose and Peter exchanged worried glances.

    "It's not just the sheep ..." Rose began.

    "Then what?"

    "Well, this is the border of our family's territory. It has to be marked."

    "What do you mean, marked?" Vicki asked even though she had a pretty good idea.

    Rose waved her hands, her palms were filthy. "You know, marked. Scent marked."

    "I would have thought that had been done already."

    "Well, yeah, but you've got to keep doing it."

    Vicki sighed. "So you're willing to risk your life in order to pee on a post?"

    "It's not quite that simple." Rose sighed as well. "But I guess not."

    "I guess we could talk to Uncle Stuart..." Peter offered.

    "You do that," Vicki told him agreeably. "But you do that back at the house. Now."

    "But. ..."

    "No." Things had been a little strange for Vicki lately - her eyes, Henry, werewolves - but she was working now and, regardless of the circumstances, that put her back on firm ground. Two shots had been fired from those trees and somewhere in the woods would be the tiny bits of flotsam that even the most meticulous of criminals left behind, evidence that would lead her out of the woods and right down the bastard's throat.

    The twins heard the change in her voice, saw the change in her manner, and responded. Cloud stood and shook, surrounding herself for a moment in a nimbus of fine white hairs. Peter heaved himself to his feet, his hand on Cloud's shoulder. He tucked his thumbs behind the waist band of his shorts, then paused. "Would you mind?" he asked, gesturing at her shoulder bag with his chin.

    Vicki sighed, suddenly feeling old. The distance between thirty-one and seventeen stretched far wider than the distance between thirty-one and four hundred and fifty. "I assume your nose tells you it's still safe?"

    "Cross my heart and bite my tail."

    "Then give them here," she said, holding out her hand.

    He grinned, stripped them off, and tossed them to her. Peter stretched, then Storm stretched, then he and Cloud bounded back toward the house.

    Vicki watched until they leapt the closer of the two fences, stuffed Peter's shorts in her bag, and turned toward the woods. The underbrush appeared to reach up to meet the treetops reaching down, every leaf hanging still and sullen in the August heat. Who knew what was in there? She sure as hell didn't.

    At the edge of the field