"You still do not know it isn't vampires," Gavin growled.
"Not a hundred percent," I conceded. "But I don't think it is. There. Are you willing to accept that? I'm going to bed. Did you take the bedroom closest to the door, like always?" I asked him.
"Yes, how did you know?" he asked.
"You always take that one," I said. "Do I get a bedroom, or am I sleeping on the sofa?" I got up to get my bags from the small living area.
"You get the third bedroom down the hall on the right," Gavin grumped.
"Thanks, honey," I said as I walked past him. Gavin growled at me in reply. Tony and I shared a bathroom, looked like. I brushed my teeth (again) and went to bed.
Gavin and Tony were sound asleep when I woke around eight the next morning. I showered, dressed and misted right through the ceiling. The café I found served breakfast, and you could read the electronic newspaper or watch the local news on a small screen at the table while you had your meal or coffee. I did both. The newspaper came first and I went to the lists of calls for burglaries and the like. More cattle were missing; another report had been made after I'd left the police station the night before. The rancher didn't know how long they'd been missing. I got the address off that one, too.
The local news came next, and while I sat there having scrambled eggs and bacon, I learned that two more humans were missing; a teenage couple this time. Their small vehicle was shown on the news, its folding top pushed back, leaving the interior open. It was a convertible hovercraft.
"They left the house early this morning," a relative said. They'd certainly been snatched in daylight and whatever was taking these victims was now grabbing two at a time. How did that figure into the equation? I used my money chip to pay. No tips were accepted nowadays and there wasn't any way to leave a tip. I thanked my waitress anyway, after asking where I could find a map.
I had to buy a small, handheld electronic map that had everything on it you could possibly want. Nobody made paper anything now unless it couldn't be helped. The first ranch address was entered; the gadget pulled up an image of where I was and where I needed to be. The little map would have given me turn-by-turn directions on how to get where I wanted to go, so I confused the hell out of it when I found a shadowy corner and turned to mist, flying in a straight line toward my destination.
My electronic map was telling me I'd reached my location when I materialized a few minutes later. I was grateful it wasn't cursing me instead. The location was higher in the mountains above the nearby city, fenced pasture lay all about me and there was a sprawling home in the distance. I was standing at the edge of the road outside the ranch itself.
"You lost?" somebody pulled alongside me in a hovercar.
"No, but thanks for asking," I said, shading my eyes against the midmorning glare to study the man. Faded blue eyes examined me from the dim interior of his vehicle. Red hair going to silver and a lined, leathery face told me he'd been ranching for most of his life—he looked as if he'd worked in the outdoors for years.
"This is my ranch," he nodded toward the house in the distance.
"Did you lose cattle recently?" I asked.
"Yeah. You with the police?"
"No," I said. "I'm doing some private investigation on this. I have a theory that the disappearances at the beach and your missing cattle are connected."
"That's a hell of a theory," the rancher said. "I can't say I see any connection, but the cops don't have time to investigate my missing cows and I'll take any help I can get."
"Do you know where your cows were when they disappeared?" I asked.
"Over on the southwest pasture. I can give you a lift if you want; I was going to check it again anyway."
"Sure," I said, climbing in on the passenger side of his vehicle. It was exhilarating to rise above the fences and take off over the pastures.
"Somewhere around here," the rancher said, pointing toward a spot near the fence. His name was John—he'd told me while we drove—the golden-brown grasses below us whipping beneath the hovercar as we rushed along. I'd given him my first name, too. I couldn't see that it hurt anything.
I climbed out of the hovercar and sniffed around. He'd parked the vehicle near the fence and I headed toward the barbed wire structure. There was a spot near the fence where the grass was beaten down, so I walked in that direction, just to check scents. John came with me. There were plenty of hoof prints there, as if the cattle had been frightened and churned the ground getting away. John was busy examining the ground, but what hit me when we reached the fence was the smell. Well, stench would be a better word. I wanted to hold my nose to keep from gagging as I moved closer to the barbed wire.
"Do you know what this might be?" I pointed out what looked to be a piece of leather caught on a barbed spike.
"No idea—kinda stinks though, doesn't it? You don't think that's cowhide, do you?"
"Wouldn't it have hair if it was?" I asked, holding my breath.
"Probably. You think the rustlers were wearing leather? Some people still do."
"Don't know, but surely it wouldn't smell like that," I said, making a face. Turning my gaze westward, I could see the ocean in the distance, sparkling in the midday sun. My skin itched.
* * *
"If you find anything, will you let me know?" John asked as he set me on the road again.
"Sure," I nodded. "Thanks for the tour." He returned my nod and took off toward his house. As soon as he was out of sight, I misted away, flying straight toward the section of beach where the teenage couple disappeared.
The police had the area blocked off for half a mile in every direction, and there were search boats in the water. I wandered through the crime scene as mist; no way could I have gotten in otherwise without using compulsion. I would have had to use it many times, too; police were everywhere and the FBI was present and involved. I knew one of them was a werewolf as I misted past him. Hovering around the vehicle the teen couple was snatched from, I detected the slightest bit of stench about it. I wondered if the werewolf had noticed the scent. John had smelled it around his fence, and if a human could smell it, the werewolf had to have it too.
The werewolf was now leaving the scene, striding away and climbing into a vehicle farther down the beach. I was taking a big chance, but there was always compulsion, wasn't there? Following him swiftly, I materialized in the seat beside him, causing him to jump as he prepared to drive away. "The same stench is on a fence where cattle disappeared two days ago," I said, right off.