Free Free Agent by J. C. Nelson Page A

and holy water. Silver hurt them in a way that didn’t instantly heal, garlic messed with their allergies, and the holy water was just to piss them off because they couldn’t stand being mistaken for vampires.
    I dropped one wolf with a couple of rounds from the nine millimeter, and now I had the attention of a bunch more, which was exactly the way I wanted it. The longer they kept looking at me, the better, so I pulled on my hood and began shooting as they came. I’d learned a little bit of history from Grimm, and the Riding Hood incident was still a sore spot with wolves.
    According to Grimm’s history books, “Red” was the name the wolves gave her after she dyed her cloak in the blood of an entire wolf clan. Depending which side of the Kingdom Channel you believed, either the wolves were innocent victims who barely even nibbled on Red’s family, or horrible monsters who had it coming. The genocide that followed left the wolves scattered loners at the outside of society. Wearing a red hood was a good way to tick off every wolf in the village.
    It worked better than I could ever have wanted—they ignored the kid and came for me with howls of rage, barely giving me enough time to change clips. Billy revved the van engine. The fae child stopped at the door, simply staring at the van.
    â€œGet
in
!” I yelled. I ran toward the van, shooting wolves as I went, and lifted him under the arms, tossing him into the seat. My arms burned from the sheer amount of power he contained. I threw the van door shut, and in that instant my months and years of training saved my life. I can’t say why I ducked, just that I did. A huge, hairy claw smashed the van window, causing the kids to scream. The van started to roll away and I realized Billy would leave me there in the middle of a pack of wolves.
    I’d been left worse places over the years; once in the middle of a stampede, and once at a bagpipe concert where they played “The Sound of Silence.” Garfunkel made me want to tear my ears off, but these wolves would tear my throat out.
    I grabbed the trailer gate and swung myself inside. As we bounced down the gravel road the wolves gave chase. A lot of them had already started to eat the pigs, but didn’t mind dine-and-dash, particularly when it might mean dining on us.
    Billy kept the accelerator all the way down. With every passing step the wolves fell farther behind and I felt better about my impromptu raid. The biggest wolf realized we were pulling away, and instead of leaping at the sides of the trailer or the van, it leaped directly into the trailer with me.
    I pointed the gun right at its head and it froze in place. “What a big head you have, Grandma. The better for me to put a bullet through.” It bared its teeth and I pulled the trigger. My gun clicked. A guttural growl that sounded like laughter came from deep inside the wolf, as it pulled back its lips in what I’m sure was a grin.
    When it leaped this time I dove forward, letting it go over me and hit the back of the trailer. As I stood I slipped in the muck and almost fell out. Asphalt whizzed by a few feet away, and I didn’t have time to reload.
    The wolf crouched and sprang at me, and right then, I released the trailer gate. With one arm I held on to the gate while I held the other over my face and throat. It slammed into me and clamped down on my arm right by the elbow. The trailer bounced and we swung out over the road together, me clinging to the gate, it clinging to me. The wolf had my arm in its jaw for a moment, shaking his head and biting deeper. His legs hit the pavement and he was torn away. I kicked my feet back into the trailer and collapsed. Drenched in pig filth, I sat and wrapped my arm, Little Red Bleeding Hood.

Eight

    WHEN WE PULLED into the loading bay back at the office I could barely sit still. I’d tried to raise Grimm from the moment Billy let me back in, but when Grimm’s