Chapter 70: Bactrack

The federal building did have an excellent display of stuffed beasties. They found wolverine and several subspecies of bear. Getting a scent from a taxidermy version is less than ideal, but they could smell enough to know that none of the creatures there had been the one that attacked Buffy.

As for what had attacked her, they both suspected their best source would be the notes they'd taken from Dennis's cabin. So, Buffy sent Savannah and Clay back to the hotel room to get a closer look at Dennis's work while the sisters grabbed supplies—energy bars, fruit, water, all the little extras a werewolf or a teenage Slayer needs to call a hotel room home.

When Clay hesitated, Buffy reminded him she was going to be Alpha.

"That's true," he said. "But there's one area with Jeremy where I get to argue a call. Personal security. We can all get the stuff, and then we all go to the hotel."

"A waste of time," Dawn said. "As you said, we have a lot to do. Buffy will be safe with me. But we're heading that way." She pointed down the road. "I saw a shop a block away. The wind will be at our backs. No one can sneak up on us."

He grumbled, but eventually gave in. Buffy and Dawn headed in the direction Dawn had indicated … and kept going to Joey's office. They'd planned to go inside and ask for him, but as they rounded the corner, they saw him ahead, a tray of coffees in his hand.

The sisters jogged up behind him before he reached the doors.

"That was a shitty thing to do this morning," Dawn said.

He jumped, sloshing coffee and cursing. Buffy and Dawn waited while he cleaned up with napkins from his pocket. He took his time and didn't so much as glanced at them until he was done. He knew they were women and werewolves—their scents would give that away—and they were pretty sure he knew who they were, but when he did look up, he still seemed startled. His nostrils flared as he drank in their scent. Then he rubbed the back of his sleeve over his nose, as if clearing away the smell.

"Normally I'd apologize for making you spill your coffee," Dawn said. "But we shouldn't have been able to sneak up on you like that, not coming upwind."

"What do you want?"

Buffy took the coffee tray, walked to a marble-topped raised flower bed, followed by Dawn, and set it down, and then they sat beside it. Joey stayed standing. "I'm Buffy and this is my sister Dawn."

"I know who you two are."

"And you know who Clay is, despite that stunt you pulled this morning," Dawn said.

His mouth tightened.

"Maybe he caught you off guard," Buffy said, "and we're sorry for that. But you could have come out after your coworkers were gone."

From Joey's expression, he wouldn't have done that even if Clay had suggested it.

"You need to speak to Clay," Buffy said. "If only for a few minutes. He has something to tell you. Something important."

"Then you two can tell me."

"Clay really should," Dawn said.

He picked up his coffee tray.

Buffy caught his elbow. "Please. It is important."

"Then say it and go. I'm not interested in a reunion."

Buffy moved in front of him. "Whatever Clay did or said twenty-five years ago—"

He looked up sharply, his frown cutting Buffy short. It took a moment before he seemed to understand what she meant. "That's over," he said.

"We know you didn't part on the best terms," Dawn said.

"The terms were fine. He was annoyed, but we worked it out, and we parted. The key word there is parted." He glanced at the sisters. "Didn't Clay get all those birthday cards I sent?"

"No, he never—" Dawn said.

"Because I didn't send any." He adjusted the tray, holding it in both hands now, between them like a shield. "Clay thought I was running away from trouble with the Pack. I wasn't. I was running away from the Pack; from all that werewolf crap he's obsessed with—they're all obsessed with. I only stayed as long as I did for my father's sake. I was happy for the chance to leave and now I have no interest in resurrecting past ties. Whatever Clay came all this way to tell me, you two can get it over with and go."

"Is that an order?" Buffy asked.

He seemed to flinch at Buffy's tone, then squared his shoulders. "I know I can't hold territory, but as a favor to an old Pack brother, I'd like Clay to respect my wishes and leave Alaska."

"How about you tell him that?" Buffy asked.

A definite flinch that time. He turned to go.

"And what about the other werewolves in Anchorage?" Buffy called after him. "Are they supposed to respect your wishes, too? I don't think they're going to leave that easily."

A slow pivot. "What other werewolves?"

"Three mutts," Dawn said. "We found their tracks near the latest wolf kill. They also attacked a young werewolf yesterday, about two blocks from here. So, in the past twenty-four hours, you've had six werewolves' trespass on your territory, and you never even noticed?"

"I must have missed them on my daily border patrols." He shifted the coffee tray to one hand. "You two don't get it, do you? No, I didn't notice them, because I don't care. I don't want to live my life like that—constantly on alert, constantly watching, working out so I can meet the next challenger, knowing there's always going to be one right around the corner. That's exactly what I came to Alaska to escape."

"Which would be just fine," Buffy said, "if you could convince other werewolves to respect your wishes. Live and let live is not the werewolf motto, no matter how hard you and I might wish otherwise."

He looked at the sisters then. Really looked at them for the first time since they'd approached him.

"This isn't our world either," Buffy said. "We were both born human. Raised human. I first entered this world as the Slayer. Then Dawn and I traveled back in time and drank from the Fountain of Youth. We're immortal. That alone set us on the path to what we are now. Werewolves. And we like being werewolves—neither of us will lie about that—but there are parts of it that we really don't like. We've spent two days chasing a twenty-year-old kid about to be framed and killed by a couple of mutts for man-eating. We followed him to Anchorage and what happens? Completely different mutts find him first and cut off two of his fingers. He didn't challenge them. He even said he wasn't sticking around. But they wanted him gone now. That's the world we live in. These mutts are going to find you and when they do, you won't be able to ask them nicely to leave you alone. They already kil—" Buffy stopped short. "Clay needs to talk to you."

The shields fell again. "No."

"It's about your father," Dawn said.

Joey scowled. "Oh, hell. Let me guess. Dad whined to Jeremy about me, and sent Clay to have a little talk. My old buddy to set me straight."

"No, your father didn't say a word to Jeremy," Buffy said. "But we did talk to your dad's landlord yesterday. We take it you two had a falling-out?"

"No, we just … We drifted apart. Look, about the mutts?" Joey continued. "Tell Clay I appreciate the warning. If you're having trouble tracking down my dad, I'll do it and I'll pass on the message. But Clay doesn't need to worry about me. I'm not a werewolf anymore—not like you two are, not like my father is. I'm a regular guy struggling with a disability that makes me disappear into the shed twice a month and change into a wolf. I don't run in Anchorage. I don't run in the forest. I don't even hike outside the city. These guys aren't likely to cross my path and if they do, I'll go the other way. Now if you'll excuse me…"

He started walking away.

"Joey," Buffy said.

He stopped, shoulders tightening. "It's Joseph."

"I'm sorry." Buffy said as she and Dawn walked up behind him. "Joseph. About your father. Dawn and I really wanted Clay to tell you, but we went to his cabin last night. We found him." She paused. "He's dead."

His head slumped forward. The sisters stayed where they were, behind him, respectfully out of sight.

"Was it them?" he asked, turning toward me. "Those werewolves?"

Buffy and Dawn nodded.

His gaze moved to theirs. "And you two wonder why I don't want anything to do with this life? Because this is where it gets you. No matter how nice you are. No matter how hard you work to avoid trouble. This is your end. Murdered by mutts. Buried in the woods." He paused, glancing away. "I take it that's what you two did. Pack protocol and all." The words carried a bitter twist.

"Yes. We had to," Dawn said.

"Exactly my point. A short, brutal life ending in an unmarked grave."

Buffy sighed. "It won't always be that way," she said. "Jeremy chose me as his successor. I've got changes I plan to implement when I become Alpha. The first of which is setting up cemeteries around the U.S. and in Canada for our kind. Some mutts will still have to be buried in the woods. Nothing can be done about that. But for the rest they deserve a decent burial. When it's set up, your father will be moved and given a proper burial."

"Thank you," Joey said sincerely.

Buffy waited a moment, and then said carefully, "Your father seemed to be researching something."

"Oh, my father and his damned research. There was a time when we were on the same page, wanted the same thing—to be left alone. Then I decided that wasn't enough. But just when I'm backing out of the life, he's diving into it. Gets that cabin. Decides to rediscover his inner wolf. A damned midlife crisis."

"Do you know what he was—?" Dawn started

"I know nothing about my father's life in the last couple of years. I didn't care to. Now, please tell Clay I'm sorry, but I don't wish to see him, and I would appreciate it if you all left Alaska as soon as possible."

He started walking away quickly.

"Joseph, please. We just want—" Dawn tried again.

He disappeared into the building.

The sisters waited, hoping he'd come back out. When he didn't, they made it to the corner before a familiar sensation washed over them. They didn't turn, just waited for Clay and Savannah to fall in step beside them.

"Didn't go as well as you two hoped, huh?" he said.

"No," Buffy and Dawn said.

They crossed the street.

"Thanks," he said. "For trying to get him to see me."

They walked half a block before Dawn asked, "So how's the research going?"

"Do you two really think I'd go back to the room and read? While you two are walking around with three killer mutts on the loose?"

"I believe," Dawn said. "That Buffy gave you an order."

"Not exactly. More of a firm suggestion," Clay said. "Buffy, you need to work on your wording."

Buffy shook her head. "So how much did you hear?"

"Most of it."

"I guess your friend has changed," Dawn said.

"Some. But of all of us, Joey was always the least into the wolf stuff. It doesn't surprise me that he's gone this way. I don't understand it, but it doesn't surprise me."

They walked another block in silence.

"I'm sorry we couldn't get him to talk to you. We really—" Buffy started.

"—tried, I know. You two went back because you both knew I was looking forward to seeing him again. I appreciate that. I really do."

"We wanted the news to come from you, but we couldn't walk away and not warn him, about the mutts and about his father," Dawn said

"And that's all we can do. Warn him. Then leave him alone."

As they walked back to the hotel, Dawn made two calls, the first to Lynn Nygard, the "paranormal enthusiast." She still wasn't home. Dawn would try again that evening. Thinking about that interview made Dawn realize there might be an easy way to get it. So, she placed the second call.

"Hope Adams," a young woman's voice answered. "True News."

"Hey, Hope. It's Dawn. How are you doing?"

Buffy and Clay rolled their eyes as Dawn launched into small talk. Dawn asked Hope what she was working on and told her what they were doing, and while part of that was civility, most was genuine interest.

Dawn had met Hope through Karl Marsten, on one of the few trips that she had taken without Buffy. "Anyway," she said. "I called to warn you that Buffy and I are now your assistants."

"Cool. I've been telling my editor for years I need one. When can I start forwarding all my alien abduction mail to the two of you?"

"Whenever you want Logan, Joyce or Anne to start answering it."

She laughed. "Actually, that's an idea. Reply in crayon scrawl and they'll spend weeks deciphering the coded message from E.T. … weeks during which they won't pester True News's beleaguered Weird Tales girl. So, what's this assistant business about? You need a cover?"

"Exactly." Dawn explained about Lynn Nygard. "I thought I'd buy myself and Buffy some street cred by saying we work with you. We'll say we're on vacation, not officially following a story."

"But intrigued by her theory, you're checking it out, with the unspoken hint that maybe; just maybe, she'll make it into our hallowed pages. Sure, go for it. Not like anyone here will deny it. When your job is investigating the paranormal, no one questions a phantom assistant, as long as they don't need to pay her salary."

"Speaking of paranormal…" Dawn told her about their encounter with the mystery beast. "And no, I don't really think it was Bigfoot or a yeti or the Abominable Snowman, but if you have a spare moment to check your files, see if there are any reports on strange encounters in Alaska, I'd appreciate it."

"Consider it done."

Dawn had barely hung up when she got a call from a number she didn't recognize, one that looked like it came from overseas. A wrong number, she was sure, but she answered anyway. "Buffy Danvers?" an accented voice asked.

"This is her sister, Dawn. Hold on a second I will get her," Dawn said as she handed the phone to Buffy.

"Yes?" Buffy asked.

"It is Roman Novikov. Jeremy said that I would be calling?"

That was the part of the message Buffy had missed—not that Jeremy would call back, but that Roman would. Dawn gestured for Clay to stop walking as they ducked into the mouth of an alley, getting away from the traffic noise.

"Yes, he did," Buffy said. "Thank you. We appreciate this."

"It is not a problem." He chuckled. "Though it is different, speaking to a werewolf and not only hearing a woman's voice, but the Slayer's as well. A nice difference, though. You are well?"

"I am, and yourself?" Buffy said.

A brief exchange of pleasantries followed. He asked how Clay and Dawn were and how the kids were, then about the weather in Alaska.

"That is weather for the beach!" he exclaimed. "I thought your Alaska was supposed to be like our Siberia. It is colder everywhere in Russia this time of the year. Enough of my old man ramblings. I am calling about this problem you are having. With the … I do not know what you call them. Stray dogs?"

"Mutts. It means a dog that isn't purebred," Buffy said.

"Ah, that is the same thing we call them. Interesting. But it would seem these 'mutts' of yours really are ublyudokii of ours, a group we thought we had gotten rid of. The leaders, though, are yours. Americans. Originally, that is, though it has been many years since they were on their home soil. They are a pair of brothers. The Teslers. Travis and Edward."

"I have a Tesler in my records," Buffy said, "but I think the last time he was seen was before Dawn and I joined the Pack."

"That is not a surprise. It would seem this Tesler brought his young sons to Ukraine many years ago. We heard nothing of them until a few years ago, when the sons decided they wanted a pack of their own, a pack of criminals. Murderers. Rapists. Thieves." He spat something in Russian, and Buffy didn't Dawn to translate to know it wasn't complimentary.

"A gang of troublemakers, then?" Buffy asked.

"No, that would have been easier to deal with. They are smart, organized criminals. Their specialty is guns—the buying and selling of them, not the using of them."

"Gun-runners," Buffy said.

"Yes. If they had stayed in Ukraine, perhaps we would have, how do you say it? Looked the other way. But they were not happy with that. They started to move around. First Romania, then Belarus, then Georgia."

Buffy nodded. "Circling your borders."

"Yes, as I said, they are smart. They did not dare trespass, but they caught our attention. We watched. Then they recruited two of my Pack, new members."

"Culling from the edges," Buffy said. "They were getting brazen."

A humorless chuckle. "Brazen, yes. I sent my wolves after them. When they escaped, they only got more brazen, crossing our borders to do business. It was then, as we were tracking their activities, that I discovered the real reason they moved so often. When you hire rapists, you hire men with a habit they will not easily overcome."

Buffy thought of the missing Alaskan girls. "They were raping locals."

"At least one was. Raping and killing. While I would like to take the credit for scaring them out of Russian lands, my wolves were only an added incentive, as you would say. The police got too close. That is why they fled and, it would appear, became your problem."

"Well, they're on our radar now, and it seems they're tired of running," Buffy said. "They're taking a stand, killing off the local werewolves. With any luck, that means they'll stay still long enough for us to eliminate them."

"If you need help with that, I could send some of my wolves."

"I appreciate the offer, but for now, let us get a better look at what we're up against. Do you have any idea how many there were?" Buffy said. "We're only finding traces of three, but from what you say, there are more than that."

"My sources tell me they did not all leave with the Teslers. A falling-out, perhaps? Five or six went, including the brothers. Others stayed behind. Another four or five. Of course, that does not mean they intend to stay behind forever."

"Let the Teslers and a few others come over, scope out new territory and clear it before the others make the trip," Buffy said. "In that case, it seems we've found them at just the right time. Our Pack can handle five or six. If we need help, though …"

"We are only a phone call away."

Savannah and Clay stopped in the lobby to grab a snack from the coffee stand while Buffy and Dawn went up to Dawn and Clay's room. They stepped off to the sounds of a couple fighting so loudly that they backed into the elevator to give them privacy before they realized the foyer was empty. So was the hall. The voices came from a room at the end of the corridor. Even without werewolf hearing, they'd have caught every word. Small rooms and lousy soundproofing.

As the sisters walked down the hall, the fight continued, the man giving the woman shit for flirting. If that was her perfume, they smelled soaking the hall, they didn't blame him for being concerned.

Dawn opened her door and she and Buffy stepped in and took a deep breath of what they hoped was clean air. It wasn't. And what they smelled made them realize the perfume hadn't been spilled accidentally—someone had been covering an odor that might stop them from opening this door.

Buffy and Dawn backed up into the open doorway, still sniffing, trying to catch any scent in the air that would suggest a mutt was still in Clay and Dawn's room. Even when they didn't smell that, they eased in, their backs to the wall, moving slow. Dawn kicked open the bathroom door. Empty. The maids had left the shower curtain open, so they could see the tub was bare.

They ran into the main room and leapt onto the bed to check the other side. The room was empty. But it still stunk of werewolf—two of the ones who'd killed Dennis. Buffy motioned toward the connecting door to hers and Savannah's room. Dawn nodded and they proceeded to check the other room finding it empty as well.

So, they went back into Dawn and Clay's room. They noted that the room stunk of something else, too. The scent wafted up from under them. They looked down at the sloppily made bed. Then bent and yanked back the covers. The smell of semen rushed out. The sisters swore and hopped off the bed.

As they leapt, they caught a glimpse of something floating in the water bottle Dawn had left on the nightstand. She picked it up. Inside were two partial fingers. Reese's.

At the whirr and click of Clay's card in the lock, Dawn and Buffy raced over. Dawn grabbed the door as she and Buffy pushed their way out and pressing both Clay and Savannah back into the hall.

"The mutts were here," Buffy said. "We'll find a new hotel."

Clay caught the door before Dawn could close it.

"You don't want—" Dawn began.

Clay shouldered his way inside. Savannah, Buffy and Dawn strode after him. He stopped in the middle of the room, his back to the sisters and Savannah. He looked at the bed, and inhaled sharply. The tendons in his neck pulsed. Another sniff. Something caught Savannah's eye as she looked through the still open door that connected to hers and Buffy's room.

Savannah walked into the room and grabbed an open drawer the sisters hadn't noticed earlier—the one that Savannah and Buffy had been stuffing their dirty clothes in. Savannah spotted a pair of her panties and frowned. As she picked it up, she wrinkled her nose and dropped her underwear on the floor.

"Honey?" Buffy said as she came up beside Savannah. She knelt down to pick up the dropped underwear.

Savannah snatched her underwear before Buffy could and threw them in the trash bin.

Buffy's eyes went wide with realization. She turned and marched back into the adjoining room and saw that Clay's fury matched her own as they both walked toward the door.

"Clay, Buffy, don't—" Dawn started.

The door banged open, hitting the wall.

"Clay, Buffy—" Dawn tried again.

They were gone.

"Aunt Dawn?" Savannah said as she walked over to her aunt. She saw what was on Dawn's bed and understood. "Mom and Uncle Clay are mad because of what the mutts did to the both of us aren't they?"

"Yes, honey," Dawn said with a sigh. She and Savannah raced into the hall and into the stairwell and down the stairs five floors. They caught up with Clay and Buffy outside. They stood on the sidewalk, nostrils flaring as they tried to catch the scent.

Dawn and Savannah walked up to Clay and Buffy.

"Don't," Clay growled, not turning.

Rage poured off both Clay and Buffy.

"I'm not going to stop either of you," Dawn said. "I just want to be sure you two know what you're walking into…a trap."

"They broke into Savannah and my room as well as yours," Buffy said. "In the middle of the day. They left Reese's fingers in your water bottle, Dawn. They jerked off in yours and Clay's bed, Dawn, and in Savannah's dirty underwear. What kind of creep would do that to a teenage girl's underwear? Do you think they're trying to scare us off?"

"No, they're trying to piss you off," Dawn said. "You and Clay. As much as they possibly can. Invade and soil your territory. Insult my mate. Insult the Alpha-in-training by targeting her daughter. Then sit back and wait until you both come charging after them, too enraged to see that you're walking into a trap."

"I know, Dawn," Buffy said with a sigh. "But here is the thing too. They're giving us the best chance we've had to get to them. Or at least to get a good look at them."