Page 3 of Flesh and Fury

“Yes, I read that in your official report, which is why it’s more important than ever that we figure out a way to approach that band of dragons. We can’t leave them out there where they can prey upon humans and expose themselves to the human population. We need to bring them under Agency control and get a solid count of their numbers. We were of the impression that Severin and Invictus’ clans were the last of the dragons in North America. There’s one other clan in Russia and one in Germany from my understanding, but clearly they’re not under Agency purview.”

“Invictus said their enemies came from Russia originally,” Eoghan said. “He thought they’d migrated to Alaska and lived there for centuries until the glaciers started to melt. That’s when they moved southeast into California, settling in Mount Shasta.”

“I wonder if it’s the same clan or an offshoot,” Priest pondered. “I’ll put a call in to the Agency so they can reach out to our Russian counterparts. They’d know the status of the Russian dragons, although they might not be terribly forthcoming about it. Russians are like that.”

“The Russian Agency counterpart probably has similar thinking to the humans running the Kremlin,” Eoghan said.“They hold things close to the vest so their Agency counterpart might also. I guess we’ll soon find out.”

Priest nodded. “It would sure as hell simplify matters. I don’t fancy the idea of you two or any of my marshals trying to get anything out of a bunch of uncooperative dragons.”

“Yeah, that was really un-fun, Chief,” Ari said.

Eoghan chuckled, and the chief just smiled.

“Anyway, the reason I called you in here wasn’t to discuss the dragons. I wanted to discuss another thing.” The chief pointed under her desk, waiting for them both to acknowledge that someone was listening. “There’s a pack of werewolves who have asked for our help.” When Eoghan opened his mouth to tell her he wasn’t going anywhere near a wolf pack, she held up both hands to stop him. “Listen, Sapphire. I know how much you detest werewolves. You have every reason to, but please hear me out. If you really can’t see yourself going out there to meet up with them after I tell you why they’ve asked for our help, then I’ll completely understand, okay?”

Eoghan chewed his bottom lip and shot Ari a glance. He was frowning at him but when he lifted both hands in an “I don’t know” gesture, Eoghan sighed and turned back to the chief. “Yes, ma’am. Of course I’ll listen to my chief.”

She smiled. “Good. This pack of werewolves live on an Agency designated reservation which shares a border with the Paiute Reservation in Bishop. We simply call ours the Bishop Reservation.”

“In Bishop,” Eoghan reiterated.

“Yes, that’s what I said. Bishop.”

“Where’s Bishop?” Ari asked.

“Central California, not that far from the Nevada border.” Eoghan didn’t look at Ari when he spoke, but simply kept his gaze focused on the chief. “The last time I was through Bishop, I remember it being not more than a blip on the map. Theirwhole claim to fame is a guy by the name of Jack Foley. He was a sound effects specialist in the early days of Hollywood who lived there, a teeny weenie town in the Owens Valley. It was a pleasant, small town then. Foley worked in a hardware store and it was a nice life.

“However, farmers in the Owens Valley saw the writing on the wall when L.A. came knocking. They were told that the Owens River—which was the source of water for their farms—would be diverted to the L.A. Aqueduct. So, many of them sold their farms and moved away. It nearly killed little Bishop off until Foley suggested the town as being perfect for westerns, so a lot of them were filmed there.”

“Wow, that’s some serious Bishop trivia there, Eoghan,” Ari said with a smirk.

Eoghan snorted quietly. “What can I say? Gladys and I stayed overnight in Bishop during our drive toward Mammoth Lakes for a case. There’s not a whole lot to do therebutread travel and tourist brochures in the motel lobby. Remember that case, Chief?”

“How could I forget someone reporting a sighting of Sasquatch at a popular ski resort?” Priest asked. She chuckled. “Ah, good times.”

Eoghan grunted. “I remember it a little differently, boss. I guess that’s because I was thrown to the ground and pinned there by a big, stinking, hairy thing who almost ripped my head off.”

“He apologized later,” Priest said with a smile.

“Yeah, well, all I can say is thank God Gladys was there with a dart gun. She shot him right in the ass…then again it was a pretty big target if I’m remembering correctly.”

This time the chief just laughed. “Fine. You made your point. So, yes, anyway, you know Bishop.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good, because I want you to go there and talk to the Bishop pack leader, Alvin Walters. He’s going to introduce you to his son and daughter-in-law who have just been informed that a werewolf pack in Hawthorne, Nevada, has kidnapped their seven-year-old son.”

“Why was his grandson kidnapped?” Ari asked.

“The Nevada pack kidnapped him to force the family to have the boy’s older brother follow through with a promise. Before his birth, the two families were friendly, so friendly in fact that Walters promised his oldest grandson to the Nevada pack leader’s oldest granddaughter,” Priest said.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Eoghan said.

She shook her head. “I’m not. They were formally betrothed prior to each being born. When the boy from the Bishop pack reached his majority at eighteen, he asked to meet the girl and when he did, he refused to marry her.”

“Why?” Ari asked.

Priest smiled at him. “Because she was already pregnant.”