Licence To Howl by Helen Harper

Chapter Twenty-Three

It wasn’teasy getting through the streets of Rome. For one thing, virtually every emergency vehicle and all available personnel, from police to paramedics to firefighters, had been called to the scene. Not to mention the vast numbers of media hordes who were also descending on the area. The Roman authorities had wasted no time in setting up checkpoints which barricaded access to the disaster zone in a bid to stop people who might get in the way from getting close – and people who might be responsible for the attack from getting away. Frankly, if it weren’t for Moretti, they wouldn’t have gotten within three miles of the blast site. It took him three phone calls to reach the Dirigente Generale, the Inspector General of the Italian police, and five precious minutes to persuade him to allow clan Lupo to access the site of the blast and help the immediate recovery attempts.

‘It’s the Pantheon,’ Moretti said through gritted teeth. ‘Those fuckers have blown up the Pantheon. It has stood for two thousand years and now it’s little more than a pile of rubble.’

Devereau sucked in a breath. ‘Was anyone inside?’

‘It’s December. It might be late evening and already closed for the night to tourists but Christmas isn’t far away. There were out of hours rehearsals going on for the upcoming Noel services. There’s no word on numbers yet but the Dirigente expects there will be multiple casualties.’ Moretti’s skin was pale and he held himself tightly, his rigid muscles belying the tension and anxiety they all felt. ‘I should have been the first person he contacted. As wolves we can quickly reach places that would take humans hours to safely get to. And our enhanced sense of smell permits us to locate survivors far faster. We are frequently called upon when earthquakes cause local buildings to collapse.’

‘This is no earthquake,’ Scarlett muttered.

‘No,’ he agreed. ‘And that is all the more reason to ask for our help. It is obvious an act of terrorism like this was committed by humans. Supes don’t blow up their own fucking cities.’

Devereau massaged the back of his neck. The familiar pain between his shoulder blades – the one which only jabbed at him when he was tense and worried – felt less like an irritation and more as if someone had rammed a hatchet into his flesh. ‘Well,’ he said, in a voice as dark as midnight, ‘one of our questions has been answered.’ He bared his teeth and let out a low snarl. ‘Solentino’s killers weren’t attempting to stop him from committing atrocious acts. They were stealing those acts for themselves.’

Scarlett turned her head and glanced out of the car window. The streets were lined with people. A few were crying. Some were hugging both themselves and others close to them. And all of them looked terrified. ‘Sometimes,’ she said softly, ‘I wonder what has happened to our world and where it can possibly be going.’ She shook her head. ‘The capacity which humankind has to destroy itself is unbelievable.’

‘It’s not all humans,’ Devereau said.

‘Perhaps not. But it’s enough of them.’

He reached for her hand, his fingers entwining with hers. For once she didn’t pull away but instead leaned into him while Moretti’s car pulled up behind a bank of waiting ambulances. They all knew this would be a horrifically long night. Devereau closed his eyes for a few seconds, using one brief moment of calm to centre himself and mentally prepare. Then he and Scarlett followed Moretti out of the car and into the screaming hell that awaited them.

Two soldiers, with stoically blank faces that couldn’t mask their horrorstruck eyes, directed them to a narrow side street, shouting something at Moretti over the shouts and yells and wails of various sirens and alarms. Devereau didn’t understand the words but he caught the gist from their hand signals. The rest of clan Lupo was waiting for their alpha. And Devereau knew they would all do whatever he and their city required of them.

He looked round, his stomach clenching as he tried to catch a glimpse of the Pantheon itself – or at least what was left of it. It was impossible to see anything, however. There were too many other buildings and people in the way, not to mention the thick acrid smoke which had filled the cool night air. Devereau gave up trying to see and marched after Moretti with Scarlett by his side and, when they turned the next corner and he saw the large group of waiting werewolves, something inside him eased. There was comfort in his own kind, even under the direst of circumstances. Moretti broke away to speak to an official looking human who seemed to have been waiting for his arrival. Devereau clenched and unclenched his fists, watching the discussion that took place but unable to hear a word of it. This wasn’t his city and he wasn’t in charge. But, man, it was hard to stand by and wait for instructions from someone else.

Scarlett seemed to sense what he was thinking. ‘Once we are done here,’ she murmured, ‘we should go back, retrieve Geraint Vissier from wherever those other Lupo werewolves took him, and,’ she licked her lips delicately, ‘beat the shit out of him. It won’t change a damned thing but it’ll make me feel a hell of a lot better.’

Devereau offered her a ghost of a smile. ‘I have a feeling I know who’s behind all of this,’ he told her. ‘This attack and Solentino’s murder. I don’t think it’s the Greek.’

Scarlett’s eyes flew to his. Before he could say anything else, however, Moretti pivoted and began to speak in Italian, bellowing at the top of his voice so that all the assembled werewolves could hear him. Devereau watched, his frustration growing at his inability to understand another language.

‘My Italian isn’t great,’ Scarlett admitted, ‘but I can understand enough. He’s saying that the priority is to find survivors. Some parts of the building are still standing and others have collapsed completely but the entire place is unsafe. The Lupo wolves need to tread carefully and use their noses to find any and all who might still be breathing. There are people in there who are counting on them to find them.’ She paused, her mouth flattening. ‘He says that the city needs them.’

Every single werewolf in front of Moretti nodded. Nobody looked eager but there was no mistaking the sense of grim anticipation at their upcoming task. Then Moretti continued.

‘They’re going to split up into teams,’ Scarlett translated. ‘If anyone locates any signs of anyone still alive under there, they have to howl once and wait for search and rescue to reach them. They have the technology to do the heavy lifting.’

Moretti pointed to five separate people. Scarlett squinted.

‘Each beta wolf will lead a team. Everyone is to follow their lead at all times and do nothing which might risk further building collapse or their own safety,’ she told Devereau.

He nodded. ‘Noted.’

The first group of wolves took off, sprinting in the direction of the destroyed Pantheon. Devereau began to head after them but Scarlett grabbed his arm. ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’

‘Of course I am,’ he growled.

‘You collapsed only yesterday, Dev. If something like that happens again and you need rescuing yourself, you will cause more harm than good.’

‘I’ve rested and eaten since then,’ he snapped. ‘I’m fine.’ Then he scowled at himself. Damn it. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken like that to you.’

Scarlett’s expression was understanding. ‘I get it. I feel the same way you do and you don’t have to apologise. But you do have to be sure that you’re well enough for this.’

‘I am,’ he said simply. ‘I promise. You should stay back, however. You don’t have the nose of a wolf, Scarlett. It’s better if you keep out of the way.’

‘Devereau,’ she murmured, ‘with all due respect, you can fuck off.’

They gazed at each other for a moment with perfect understanding. ‘Okay then,’ he said finally. ‘Let’s go together and help our hosts as best as we can.’ He half closed his eyes, allowing his animal to come to the fore. The wolf inside him was bursting to be released. ‘I’ll give you a ride,’ Devereau told her. ‘It’ll get us there faster.’

Scarlett blinked but gave him a tiny nod. Then Devereau’s human body yielded entirely to the beast.

Scarlett moved quickly, straddling his body with her fingers curling tightly into his fur so she didn’t fall off. He waited until she seemed comfortable and then he took off, bounding after the Lupo werewolves, all of whom were heading into the fire and destruction rather than away from it. They all had to do this. There was simply no choice.

Even without the chaos, Devereau wouldn’t have known where he was or where he was going. He kept his head down and followed the trail of the other werewolves. As it was, he almost on top of the Pantheon before he realised. He came to a skidding halt and blinked through the clouds of dark smoke which billowed up from various spots. Jesus.

They’d come at the Pantheon from its eastern side. At least half of the massive structure seemed to have been pulverised in one stroke. The domed ceiling had completely caved in and small fires were dotted everywhere, springing from goodness knows what. Devereau had never been in the army but it certainly looked like a warzone to his eyes. He swallowed hard and felt Scarlett tug on his left ear, indicating that she wanted him to move. He padded in that direction, spotting the famous Pantheon façade. Only two columns remained standing – and it was doubtful that they would remain that way for much longer judging by the taut, disturbed expressions of the hard-hatted engineers who were cautiously examining them and the first section of the building which was still upright just beyond.

A single sharp howl pierced through the chaos. Moretti’s wolves had already found someone. Devereau breathed out and looked round, noting the low shapes of the werewolves as they clambered gingerly across what was left of the once magnificent building. Scarlett slid off his back and he turned his gaze towards hers. She nodded once and then together they took off, aiming for the nearest pile of collapsed stone.

He’d been expecting that his vision would be hampered by the smoke and the fire and he’d known that progress up and over the ruined building would be slow. What he hadn’t anticipated was how hot the jagged stones would be under his massive paws. He growled, forced to scamper quickly and not remain in one place for too long. It was easier said than done. The debris shifted and groaned under his weight. He had to be both nimble and careful.

Although she was wearing knee high boots which should have been entirely unsuited to this sort of task, Scarlett was fast on her feet. She leapt away from a sudden flare of flame before locating an undamaged section that she was able to run up. Then she paused and looked down from her vantage point, her figure silhouetted against the terrible orange glow of the fires around them.

Devereau spun to follow her lead, while another howl ripped through the air. As soon as he reached her side, she pointed down. ‘There’s a space down there,’ she told him. ‘Can you scent anything?’

Devereau turned his head and gazed at the gaping black hole by their feet. They were at least thirty feet above ground level and it was impossible to see anything in the space below. He lowered his muzzle towards it and inhaled. It was incredibly difficult to distinguish between the different smells the collapse of the building offered up. He focused all his energy and attention, blotting out the rest of the sights, sounds and smells around him. There. There was something down that dark chasm of pantheonic destruction that smelled of human and pain and terror. He tilted his head and listened. That was a moan. He was sure of it.

Devereau yipped, indicating to Scarlett, and then took the plunge without thinking. He leapt long before he looked, stretching his front paws forward to prepare for the landing. It came sooner than expected and he tumbled forward, knocking the left flank of his fur covered body against something. He whined briefly and pulled himself upright again, as another thump came from behind him.

‘For fuck’s sake, you’re supposed to howl and let Search and Rescue know someone’s here. You’re not supposed to throw yourself into a space that might collapse on top of you at any second,’ Scarlett hissed.

Devereau turned his head and gave her hand a tiny nudge with his nose. He wasn’t the only one standing down here. Scarlett huffed, her annoyance easily audible now that the sounds of the chaos from outside were muffled. Then she shrugged at him, delved into her pocket and drew out her phone, flicking on its torchlight to get a better look at their surroundings.

There was a stone column to their right. Ominous cracks were displayed along its length but it was still standing and was obviously the reason why this pocket of space remained, despite the devastation around them. Devereau pawed at the floor. It was covered in a layer of thick soot and ash but it appeared to be marble.

‘We must be in part of the main atrium,’ Scarlett said. ‘Most of it seems to have collapsed when the domed ceiling caved in but this section appears alright.’ She gestured to the right. ‘There’s a gap there. It might be enough of a crawl space to get through and investigate further.’

Devereau dipped his head in a lupine nod and lowered his body, sniffing the bitter air. The moaning, which had ceased briefly, had started up again and seemed to be coming from that direction. So did the human scent.

‘Out of the way,’ Scarlett ordered. ‘I’m smaller than you. You’ll have trouble fitting through that gap in that body.’

Devereau’s eyes narrowed. He could make it – if he breathed in and sucked in his stomach. Scarlett had already pushed past him, however, and was wiggling her way through.

‘Shit,’ he heard her say. Then, with more urgency, ‘shit.’

He didn’t bother wasting time. Transforming back into his human form so he could slide through after her, Devereau crouched down and ducked. When he saw what she’d found, he could repeat Scarlett’s own words. ‘Shit.’

There were two bodies, both of young boys. The nearest boy seemed almost completely unharmed – apart from his dull, staring eyes that was. His only visible injury was a trickle of congealed blood at his temple. He was definitely dead, unlike his companion who was covered in blood and whose legs were at such an angle that they had to be broken. That boy was still alive. His breath was shallow and if he didn’t receive medical attention, he wouldn’t last. But right now he was clinging on.

‘Choir boys probably,’ Scarlett muttered. ‘Doing nothing more than rehearsing an angelic chorus for Christmas.’ She cursed. ‘We have to get him out of here without causing further injury.’

Devereau stared at the boy’s young, innocent face. Beyond the dirt and the blood and the pain was a child who’d done no wrong. And next to him was his dead companion. Probably his friend. If Devereau had acted faster against Solentino, if he’d made different choices or done things in a different way, then this might not have happened. For one stark, horrible moment, it felt like his fault. It was his fault. Guilt and rage rampaged through him. He’d not been good enough or strong enough to prevent this from happening.

‘Devereau?’ Scarlett questioned.

‘Yeah.’ His voice sounded as if it were coming from a great distance. ‘I’ll take his head and shoulders. You take his feet. We can slip him through the hole and then I’ll transform and howl for help.’ He reached down with one hand and smoothed back the boy’s dark hair. ‘You’ll make this, kid. I promise you. You’ll make it.’