'Think,' she thought to herself. Which was sorta meta. Unfortunately, thinking about how meta mentally ordering herself to think via her internal monologue was ended up distracting her from thinking the actual right thoughts. 'Stop it,' she tried instead.' Pay attention and think of something normal to say.'

  Normal. Normal was the key. Not normal like today's clients' constant low-level homage to infidelity and misogyny, though. Something actually normal. She considered commenting on the weather or maybe a very droll reference to taxes.

  "Holy fucking shit fuck," Shiloh said (you know, like a normal person would). "What do you use that gun for? Large dinosaurs and small buildings?"

  The merchant—a rotund woman with arms more muscur than Wade's—snorted. Then she hauled off the giant beaver and called something to the Bane about grabbing his payment and proof of kill inside.

  "Thank you, Ms. Mertock," Wade called. Then he turned back to her and spoke in a level, professional voice, "Yes, Ma'am. You've caught me. I'm the Bane who specializes in carnivorous grocery stores. Though I also handle overhead bridges and other civic infrastructure for an additional fee."

  "An extra fee?" she asked, trying desperately not to put her foot further in her mouth.

  " Yes. Extra because of the difficulty of tracking."

  The wise-ass in her saw the challenge and vied for control so it could respond in kind. She held back, but it was hard.

  "Sorry," she made herself say, "I've been in the Croatian for what feels like twenty-five of the st twenty-four hours. I've completely forgotten my manners. My name is Shiloh Methuseh. I'm a cartographer and an occasional forest guide. I found something I thought a Blightbane should be aware of."

  Wade nodded and stepped forward with hand outstretched, "Wade Raslow, a pleasure to meet you."

  His hands were calloused, unusually warm, and he stared her straight in the eyes with his matte iron gaze. It felt oddly bloodless. Like he was going to interview her for a job before putting it all behind him for his next meeting.

  "This is Junior Bane Jasque," Wade said, waving to the pretty man with dark hair and fluid body nguage." We work together."

  She nodded and took a second look at both of them. Wade's boots were worn and muddy in a way she trusted. He had on a sturdy belt with an absolutely massive revolver on his right hip. He also had a shoulder holster with a regur automatic pistol that reminded her of her bedroom gun. Aside from that, she spotted a knife on the back of his belt and a European-looking straight sword.

  Jasque was much less attention-grabbing. He had a a rifle slung over a shoulder and a trench knife, but not much else that she could easily see. Just dark jeans and a shirt made with moisture-wicking fabric unbuttoned enough to show colr bones.

  "Delighted. This," she waved at the bobcat, "is Fraulein. She is not my familiar. She is just magical and seems to have adopted me. Please don't try to pet her. She only friendly—"

  At that exact moment, Fraulein, who had been grooming herself on top of an AC unit, blinked and walked over to rub her shoulder against Wade's leg.

  "—with me," Shiloh trailed off. "Well… I'll be damned."

  Wade grinned and gestured to the big cat, "Do you mind? I'm a Were and pretty decent with animal body nguage."

  She waved him on, and he went through the ritual of introduction, whereupon he presented himself to the cat, and Fraulein decided if he was worthy of her tolerance.

  He was. At least for a minute before Fraulein wandered away.

  "Jasque," Wade said," would you mind grabbing everything from inside? I'll talk to Ms. Methuseh, and we can move back towards the car."

  The other man assented with a false smile before going into the store. That left she and Wade to walk back towards the main street.

  "Just to be clear, Mr. Raslow, I am only telling you about this incident in person because I believe you will need my help finding the location. Because of that, I would like a cut of any reward."

  "Understood. And please, call me Wade."

  "Only if you call me Shiloh."

  He nodded, and they took a turn that would have them pass in front of Nick's store. "Tell me what you saw, Shiloh. We can discuss how much money might be possible and if it's worth your time to guide me."

  She did. About halfway through her recounting, Jasque joined them.

  "—and that was when I came across the second thing. The one I told you I was worried about."

  "Oh," said Wade, not bothering to look at her as he guided them across the street to a muddy-looking truck. "I would think a mossquade corpse would have been the concerning part."

  "No. They were what made me look closer. I saw—Well, something was trying to cim the forest. But not like a Were. Like something much deeper."

  For the first time since she had introduced her cat, Shiloh got a reaction from the over-armed man.

  "Deeper? Please tell me more," he said, sharing a pointed gnce with Jasque. The reaction wasn't much. But he had been a perfect wall of pleasant professionalism blended with the appropriate level of informality. The sort of demeanor that often cropped up in people who worked with her hands. That gnce had meaning and a thread of actual feeling in it. It was small. Not something she would usually pick up on. But any crack in an otherwise mirror-finished wall was eye-catching. Especially when there was price negotiation in the future.

  "I don't know how to categorize it. I'm not properly magic or a syer, or whatever you call it. But I'm pretty sensitive to energies compared to the kids I grew up with. Something was trying to magically take dominion of that pce. And it was almost hidden. Like an ambush predator. It had been smoothed out till you had to look real close and know the rhythm of the forest."

  "The rhythm of the forest?"

  She grimaced in a way that could pass for a smile. Time for the incredulity. They would test to see if she was a silly hippy. Or worse, a hysterical woman prone to delusions and whimsy. "Yes, Wade. The rhythm of the forest. I'm a cartographer, a forest guide, I grow herbs on my property, have lived on a farm, and take plenty of jobs from the apothecaries. Believe me when I say the patterns of the forest were wrong."

  "Wrong how?"

  "If you don't know, I can't expin it to you."

  "Try me," he said with a sort of stoic immutability. Like he had heard this before and knew more than she did. Which, she could abso-fucking-lutely guarantee that he did not.

  Sure, there were others like her out there, and some of them knew more about forestry, herbology, ecology, and all the other '-ologies.' She acknowledged the gap and was comfortable with her limits. Hell, she even looked up to those people. But this type of man didn't know more than her. Could not. Her entire life revolved around this. Not only as a member of her species but as a woman who needed to learn everything about the property, life in a forest, and the ecosystems of the North American continent. Project Rich Bitch Landowner-Savior demanded nothing less.

  "Are you about to cim that you know the forest because you're a Were?" she asked, skipping the preamble. "If you are, then you can stop right now, and I'll go to the other Banes that I've heard about. Lucy does good work, or so I've heard."

  He frowned, and she smiled a sharp smile at him. This was her negotiation. She had the valuable information, and his competition would benefit if he did not make her want to work with him: that is what this situation was. Not a silly civilian boring him on the walk to his car.

  She forged onward. "I'm not cutthroat enough to leave a threat to innocent people unaddressed. But I am more than willing to hand over a payday to someone who will take me seriously."

  The two of them locked eyes. His steel and storm-wind gray matching her batshit crazy and hazel. He blinked first.

  "I'm sorry. A lot of this job is struggling with people trying to tell us our jobs. People who act like it's something you can learn from thirty minutes on a library computer or like magic just takes a spiritual evening getting high by a waterfall. I should have known better than to bring that exact same attitude to you. Please accept my apology."

  Jasque was following the exchange with a look that was hard to unravel. Maybe surprise, affront, or a sort of protective wariness. She didn't like that. It was the seeds of a dynamic she did not want to fight after it had taken root.

  Shiloh turned and included him in her gre.

  "Whoa," he said, lifting both hands and giving what most people would consider to be a charming smile, "I wasn't the one who was about to manspin you."

  Her response was to gre harder and tap a foot.

  Something fshed in his eyes, but then he chuckled, "Alright. I'm sorry as well."

  She snorted and turned back to Wade. With quick motions, she took off her backpack and removed a pstic bag she had reinforced with grey tape until there was no chance it would get punctured or leak. She handed it over and watched their expressions as the two sliced it open to reveal a heap of ears. All of them from the den of dead mossquade she'd found.

  The ears were the best way to determine the creatures' ages; they grew smaller with time. This bag held four sets of adult ears and the big batlike ones belonging to the children.

  Most relevantly, all of the ears were a lighter shade of green. Several were distinctly ced with yellow veins. The yellow veins that only came to the surface of the skin during dawn and dusk. It was all but impossible to notice with all the heavy moss-like fur, but anyone who knew their cryptozoology could look at those ears and know that these mossquades had died while they were at their strongest.

  "There is something trying to cim stretches of the forest on a very deep level. Deep enough that it was—presumably—undetected even though I crossed nd that maps indicate was Marked and cimed by PAAW Weres."

  Wade chewed at the inside of his lip, and the two Banes shared another gnce. "Ma'am—"

  She gave him a look.

  "Shiloh," he nodded his head in apology, "I'll leave word at the office that you're turning in those ears for me. You can keep all the rewards as a sign of good faith. I'd appreciate it if you'd be willing to spend the next few days going around the forest with us."

  "And I'll get a cut of whatever you find?"

  "Yes."

  "Fifty percent."

  Wade just shrugged, but Jasque cut in from the other side of the car, "Ten."

  "Bullshit, you can't find it without me. Forty."

  "We'll get a location from the hunters you mentioned and do a sweep. Ten"

  "Good luck. They couldn't tell their asses from their elbows. I want thirty. That's more than fair since you'll need to pay me as a tour guide in addition to my cut. Last minute like this, I might even have to pull in favors from my day job to miss all this time."

  It was technically the truth. What she didn't mention was that she had worked herself into the ground so she could spend much of the next week schlepping around hunters without it impacting her deadlines. Her job was handled; what they were really paying her to do was not stay in bed all day reading.

  Which, come to think of it, she really wanted to do… "Actually, thirty-five."

  "You just said a third!"

  "And then I adjusted when I realized I don't want to spend all day with you!"

  "Twenty-five!"

  "Forty!"

  Wade coughed, "Excuse me."

  "What!" they both yelled at him.

  His mouth tightened, "Please don't yell. We're in public."

  Ahhh. That stole some of the fire from her gut. Shiloh winced and looked up and down the street to confirm that, yes, there were several people staring at them.

  "Shiloh," said Wade, using the calming voice reserved for drunks and spooked farm animals, "How about we pay you the usual daily amount you would charge people to be their hunting guide? Additionally, all money earned from the hunt will be split thirty-seventy. Thirty for you and thirty-five for Jasque and myself since we will be the ones who are risking injury and medical bills."

  Jasque protested, and, to be honest, Shiloh almost agreed with him. That was not a fair sum when you considered hazard pay. She had been prepared to go much lower if they paid her as a guide.

  The temptation pulled at her, but morals sucked all the fun out of imagining what she could do with that cash. "You really think that's fair?"

  Wade looked at her with those gray eyes and absent-minded confidence. "Who cares?"

  "I'm sorry, what?"

  Jasque threw up his hands and stalked away.

  "Who cares. I have what I need to survive," said the grey-eyed Bane. "I'll survive if buying a new guitar takes me an extra few months."

  She started at him and noticed two parallel scars on one of his cheeks. They were retively subtle but impossible to miss when the sun hit them and cast shadows.

  "You py guitar?" The contrast between that and the battle scars was weird.

  He looked momentarily puzzled and then responded while holding back a grin, "Yes, Shiloh, I do. The bounty on carnivorous grocery stores is good, so I occasionally have disposable income. Does thirty percent sound good? Or would you like me to py you a private concert too?"

  That grin did its magic on his face, and she suddenly remembered how bitable his—

  "Twenty percent of rewards plus a daily pay. It'll go up by a lot if this sts more than a week and a half."

  She had spoken to distract herself from the invasive thoughts, but it wasn't helping. Shit, she was blushing, she absolutely had to be blushing. And she hated it.

  Wade must have seen it because the tops of his teeth poked through his grin, and he leaned forward in a distinctly predatory tilt. "And the concert?"

  Her response was to flip him off and tell him to go kick rocks. They haggled briefly. Wade was bad at it. Before long, she was done. After wrapping up, Shiloh was very tired but flushed with the feeling of victory. Rather than go to her car, she spun around to find the nearest source of wine.

  If all went well then that negotiation was probably going to be the hardest part of the whole thing. She would do some hikes, lounge around, sleep in, and have a very easy couple of days. Sure, they might have a few tense minutes when they found the den of the thing and needed to retreat carefully before the Banes came back to unch their attack, but how badly could it really go when she had two professional killers there to guard her?

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