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And a hint of sweetgrass At the thought, I slowed, breathing throughto find and separate it frorass One of the cerelile-sharp chin and nose Yeah Tsalagiyi: The thought burbled up from the dark of my mind He could be a Cherokee turned by a va someone like meI pulled onto the shoulder, stopped the bike, and put my boots to the pave I had in rass

I pulled down the face shield of the hel

The scent blasted at e of the shield, intensified, concentrated by speed as I wove through the streets, heading to the river, the saue from the kill zone where he took down the prostitute The exact sa an anih the brush, loell worn The liver-eater was using the same trail home

Beast rose into my mind as we roared over the river, part of the I-90 snarl, taking the Greater New Orleans Bridge The Mississippi was a huge sleeping snake, muddy brown and soue’s scent disappeared Justtotally disappeared Traffic was growing heavier The breeze across the river was strengthening I didn’t have ain

Had I been in a car I would have been in trouble Muchtraffic laws all over, to the far shore, still unable to pick up the scent It took a while to get turned around as the road became the Westbank Expressway, snarled with traffic In Beast for on top of a truck

I took the bridge back twice, searching up and down the road, scenting the few off-ra I chased He could have dropped off the expressway onto the ground below at any point Or, for that e into the river Beast sent round

"Air scenting is a waste of tireed I pulled the bike to the shoulder, stopped, put ain Yanked off e, of a pile of poop Then a third, of bark torn from a tree as if by claws or deer horns And yet a fourth, of a big cat, hindquarters bent, forelegs stiff, depositing scent frolands onto a pile of leaves and sticks

"Territory You think I can find hi his territory Places he’s marked as his But people don’t mark territory, and from what I’ve seen, neither do van in the , no neon, but a street number in brass on the door I hadn’t paid ue vas that he doesn’t even realize are ie One Feather’s and the sweathouse out back I strapped on my link-mail collar and gie had to have heard the bike puttering down the road It wasn’t like I could hide the sound of theat the door, but she wasn’t The house was silent when I rang the bell, except for the electronic hum of appliances and air conditioner, and the smell of cooked bacon Twined with it all was the rotten stink of the rogue Beast caue had co if the scorched s sunrise by seconds The scorched stink

He was fast, faster than anything I ever hunted I wanted to ignore the protocol of asking pererness gathered inside ue was close The woods behind Aggie’s house were not just hunting grounds He did have a lair near here

I heard footsteps inside Aggie stepped back in shock when she opened the door, one hand out as if to ward off a blow Maybe it was the Benelli slung over my back Maybe it wasand sed, one fist over her heart, recovering her poise "What do you want?" she asked, her voice not quite steady What do you want? Not Co my way

I shook my head There was no ti with an elder "The rogue vah your yard I need to--" I stoppedthis, and said instead, "May I hunt in the property behind your house?"

She looked , a relaxing of the facialme out, the other still curled in a loose fist on her chest, the gesture protective A y, hazy, an old, old wo the same motions, the remembrance almost in reach for an instant, before it wisped away like sie searcheddown like a bird to a branch I restrainedit into submission, took a deep breath, and blew it out I waited as she studied h it couldn’t have been more than seconds

At last, satisfied, she said, "Yes You may hunt But first, my mother wishes to meet with you" She pushed the door open and stood aside

"I don’t have ti free "It came by your house"

"I know Mysince you toldShe heard it Felt its hunger Its anger We’ve been expecting you" She stood aside