Part 30 (1/2)
”Oh, G.o.ds.”
After another silence, Merri Lee said, ”I'm pretty sure the special meat isn't sold in the butcher shop anymore, if it ever was,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. ”And I'm pretty sure when the Others kill a human, that person is usually consumed on the spot and there aren't any leftovers.” She swallowed hard enough that Meg could hear it over the phone. ”But when special meat is available, you'll see a sign on the shop door. It's not obvious what it's for, but we've all been able to guess why it goes up. Like I said, I'm pretty sure they don't sell the meat there, but the sign tells all the Others that it's available.”
”But we're supposed to shop there!”
”Have you been inside yet?”
”No. I don't know how to cook, so I haven't bought any meat there yet.” And might never buy any.
”When you do, be sure to ask what meat you're getting. Or tell them what you're looking for. If you ask for a steak and don't specify the animal, you could get beef or horse or deer or moose or even bison. That can be interesting, but you don't always want interesting.”
Feeling wobbly, Meg braced a hand on the counter and wished she'd never thought of getting a treat for Sam. ”Okay.” She blew out a breath. ”Okay. Thanks, Merri.”
She hung up and went back into the sorting room in time to hear a loud knock on the back door. Sam followed her, still wearing the harness and leash because he wouldn't let her unclip the safety line.
She opened the door. The man had the brown hair and eyes of the Hawks she'd met, and he was wearing a blood-smeared ap.r.o.n around his waist. He held out two packages wrapped in brown paper.
”Chopped up a few pieces of stew beef,” he said. ”Let it get body warm before you give it to Sam. The other package has pieces of dried stag stick. The pups like chewing on those.”
”What's a stag stick?” Meg asked, taking the packages.
He stared at her for a moment. Then he put a fist below his belt and popped out a thumb.
”Oh,” Meg said. ”Oh.”
He spun around and ran back to the Market Square.
She closed the door, looked at the packages in her hands, and said, ”Eeeplain about her stinky hair-which didn't smell anymore, thank you very much.
Even John's smile faltered when he noticed how the other Wolf followed her to the front of the store, but he rang up her purchases-including a novel that she grabbed from the display table to prove she could buy a book for herself-and put them in the carry bag she'd brought with her.
Thanking John, she headed toward the back of the store, more and more nervous about the Wolf who seemed intent on following her. She breathed a sigh of relief when he hesitated, then turned and went into A Little Bite. Wanting to get back to the office before he began following her again, she flung open the back door of HGR and hurried to the open door of Henry's yard.
A s...o...b..ll hit her shoulder, surprising a squeak out of her. But it was the Wolf charging at her that made her scream so loud the Crows and Hawks that were all around Henry's yard and the Liaison's Office took off in a flurry of wings. Meg dropped to her hands and knees, then curled up, covering her head and neck with her arms.
The Wolf landed on her back, snarling fiercely as he slid off her in his attempt to grab at her arms.
Then a small head shoved its way under her arm, and a tongue gave her face a couple of quick licks. Sam talked at her for a moment before he pulled his head out of the s.p.a.ce and happily jumped on her again.
Henry's laugh boomed out. ”You caught her good and proper, Sam. Now let her up.”
Meg counted to ten. When no one jumped on her, she slowly uncurled. A moment later, a big hand grabbed the back of her coat, hauled her upright, and began whacking the snow off her.
”You make a fine squeaky toy, Meg,” Henry said, his voice suffused with laughter. ”Sam, it's time for you to go.”
”That's enough,” she gasped, brus.h.i.+ng the snow off the front of her coat.
Henry picked up her purse and the carry bag, brus.h.i.+ng the snow off both of them. ”It was nice of you to play at being prey.”
She hadn't been playing at anything. The red harness or the size of the animal hadn't registered in her brain. All she'd seen was a Wolf heading toward her at a full run. Sam had looked a lot bigger in that moment, and dropping to the ground had been instinctive.
”I probably should have run,” she murmured, taking the purse and carry bag from Henry. Sam returned, mouthing one end of the leash as he dragged it behind him.
”No,” Henry said quietly, his attention on something behind her. ”Running would have been the wrong thing to do.”
Taking the leash from Sam, she clipped it to his harness and slipped the other end over her wrist before turning to look at whatever Henry was watching.