Anne Bishop - Written in Red

Vlad shifted in his chair. “She hasn’t seen a Wolf yet. Except Sam.”

“There’s always a Wolf on duty at HGR,” Blair said.

“Yes, but she hasn’t been in the store since she became the Liaison, so she hasn’t seen one of you.”

“I’ll assign a couple of Wolves to keep watch around the office. In human form.”

“Keep in mind that they’ll see Meg and Sam,” Henry said.

Blair growled. “ That is for Simon to deal with when he gets back.”

“Agreed.”

Satisfied they had done what they could for the moment, Henry stood. “I am close by during the day, and the Hawks and Crows keep watch when Meg is working. They will alert the Wolves if there is a threat.”

The three went back to their own work.

As Henry walked the narrow path to his studio door, he looked at the Crows gathered on the wall.

Jake replied. He sounded disappointed.

Back inside, Henry hung up his coat and walked around the pieces of wood waiting to be given a new kind of life—and thought about the female who, despite being human, he was beginning to see as a friend.

In between deliveries, Meg scanned the Lakeside News , but didn’t see anything she thought should be reported to Henry or Tess—and wondered if she was out of place to even be looking. Surely Tess or Vlad did that anyway. But they didn’t have all the images she did and might not recognize something that could have an impact on the Others.

She noticed the sale ads, which were set up as Asia said, but she didn’t know if any of the residents would be interested in such items.

She read the comics and didn’t understand most of them. But there was a comic strip about the Others that disturbed her. It seemed to be part of an ongoing story, so the words had little meaning, but the slavering Wolf, standing upright and looking like a furry man with a wolf’s head, made her uncomfortable. Maybe it was a way to diminish something that was feared, but it felt dangerous. She couldn’t say if it was dangerous to the Others or to the humans, but she absorbed the image, then looked at the date at the top of the newspaper. Another image.

Folding the paper, she reached for the Courtyard’s newsletter, then stopped. Too much information, too much to absorb already today. Besides, distributing that new catalog to the residential complexes had produced a flurry of orders that had arrived that afternoon, so she still had to separate a cartload of packages and contact the complexes to come and pick up their orders.

She locked up promptly at four o’clock, filled the back of the BOW with small packages for the Chambers and the Green Complex, made sure she had her package for Winter, and headed out to make her deliveries.

It still made her nervous to get out of the BOW at any of the mausoleums that housed the Sanguinati—except Mr. Erebus’s home—but she was getting used to the smoke that flowed out of the buildings whenever she stopped the BOW. The Sanguinati in smoke form didn’t flow beyond their fences when she was around, and the ones who remained in human form didn’t speak to her or approach. She always bid them a good afternoon as she tucked packages into the delivery boxes—and always breathed a sigh of relief that none of them wanted to make a meal out of her.

Mr. Erebus, on the other hand, came down the walkway to meet her as she got out of the BOW.

“Your movies arrived,” Meg said, holding up the package. She noticed his fingernails didn’t look as yellow or horny as they had the first time she’d seen him, but maybe that was because she’d been nervous and the doorway had been dark.

“I do enjoy my movies,” he said. “Such a sweet girl to bring them to me.” Then he pointed at the black delivery boxes to indicate she should put his package inside. Even when he came out to meet her, he wouldn’t take a package directly from her hand.

“I’m pleased to do it,” Meg said.

Erebus studied her as she put the rest of the packages inside the delivery boxes. “Vladimir is kind to you?”

The question surprised her. What surprised her more was the feeling that Vlad’s well-being depended on her answer. “Yes, he is. He and Nyx were very helpful this morning.”

“That is good.” He stepped back. “Go finish your work, then enjoy the night.”

“I will.”

As she drove toward the lake, she wondered if that was a warning that she should stay within the Green area of the Courtyard after dark.

Winter was skating on the lake, wearing the same white dress. Meg parked in the same place as the first time she’d visited, pulled a scarf out of the shopping bag, then walked down to the edge of the lake.

The girl gradually joined her.

“It is the Liaison,” Winter said. “Do you skate, Meg?”

“I never learned.”

“Humans wear metal on their feet to glide over ice. I have no need of such things.” Winter tipped her head. “Did you come to collect the library books? We have not finished reading them.”

“No, I’m not here for the books. I brought you this.” Meg held out the scarf.

The girl stiffened, and the eyes that fixed on Meg were filled with an inhuman anger.

“You brought me the color of Summer?”

Staggered by the depth of the anger, Meg looked at the green scarf. “Summer? No. I didn’t think of it as a summer green.”

Winter seemed taller than she’d been a moment ago—and less human. And the air, which had been tolerable that afternoon, suddenly had a bite.

She had insulted the girl. That much she understood. It sounded like Winter and Summer didn’t get along, despite being sisters. Were they sisters?

“When I saw this, I thought of you,” Meg said, hoping to explain.

“Me.” The word was a furious whisper. Snow suddenly whipped around the other side of the lake, a curtain moving toward them.

“Because of this.” Meg unfolded the scarf, revealing the snowflakes that became the white ends and fringe. She struggled to find the right words. “Winter isn’t an absence of color; it has all these shades of white. And then there are the evergreens with their branches tipped with snow, their color an accent for the white. When I saw the scarf at a shop in the Market Square, I thought of you because your dress has shades of white, and the green would be an accent for the dress like the evergreens are for the land.”

The snow on the other side of the lake quieted. Winter studied the land and the trees, then looked at the scarf. “It is the color of the evergreens.” She reached out and rubbed the scarf between her hands. “Soft.”

Meg hardly dared to breathe.

“Kindness,” Winter murmured, taking the scarf and wrapping it around her neck. “So unexpected.”

The eyes that would never be mistaken for human stared at her. “Thank you, Meg.”

“You’re welcome, Winter.” She walked back to the BOW and waved before she got in. The girl didn’t wave back, but as Meg drove away, a second girl glided over the ice and linked hands with Winter.

During the drive back to the Green Complex, Meg noticed how the snow beside the road swirled in the air like skaters twirling over the ice on a lake.

After a long, hot shower and a late breakfast, Meg filled Earthday with chores, Sam, and her first social outing. While her clothes washed, she and Sam walked around the complex. While the clothes dried, she and Sam walked around the complex. By the time she got home and put her clothes away, Sam was sprawled on her bedroom floor, unwilling to move. She had to lug him back to his cage in Simon’s living room.