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the werewolves are tied to the Mob families, then I’d think they would know of an unaffiliated newcomer and deal with it themselves. That leaves wendigos and rougarous, the more feral cousins.”

I asked everything I could think of on how to kill those creatures, and Sorren shared his knowledge and experience. When I finally hung up, I still felt uneasy, but at least I had a better idea of how to handle the situation. He’d also shared a contact, Father Michael Kinsella, at Holy Name Cathedral, who he suggested might be receptive to helping with occult matters. I decided I’d give the good father a call to cover all our bases.

I mulled over the information we’d read and the additional details from Sorren. What we knew seemed to point to one conclusion—and a pretty strong suspicion.

“I think we’re dealing with a rougarou,” I said when I came back to the parlor where Sarah and West were still working. Sarah had tuned the radio to symphony music, and while I suspected West would have preferred a ballgame, I didn’t mind at all.

“How do you figure?” West asked, glancing up from his book.

I told him what Sorren had said and why that probably ruled out shifters and werewolves. Then I went on to the answers I’d come up with. “The people the creature killed were clawed apart, but not eaten. A wendigo is a cannibal. That doesn’t fit with the evidence or with the kind of creature Capone needed under his control. A witch can curse someone to be a rougarou though,” I added.

“Can they pass for human?” Sarah asked.

“That depends on the version of the legend,” I replied. “But most say it’s possible. What if Capone laid a curse on someone and controlled when he could shift?”

West gave me a horrified look. “So the person wouldn’t have a choice or be able to stop the shift?”

I shrugged. “Again, there are different versions of the story, but I’m inclined to believe that Capone would want a ‘secret weapon’ that he could turn on and off at will.”

“And what about the cursed person?” Sarah asked, looking fascinated and repelled in equal measures. “Can they be cured?”

“That was one place where the lore was consistent. No—not after they’ve killed their first human.”

West looked like he was about to ask another question when the phone rang. He went to answer it and returned looking decidedly unhappy.

“That was Ness. Duval wants to meet up—said he had information we’d want to hear,” West said as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.

“Wanna hear my theory on who the rougarou is?” I asked, pretty sure West and Sarah had already guessed.

West whispered a curse, although I knew Sarah wouldn’t object. Hell, I’d heard her say worse in a dire situation. She could curse like a sailor when the occasion warranted.

“Duval?” he said as if daring me to disagree.

“Uh-huh. Both the wendigo and rougarou are Canadian monsters. Duval fits the bill—he’s on loan from Capone’s partner-slash-rival in Toronto, he had a beef against Capone as soon as the man got sent to jail, and he’s the new guy in town,” I replied.

West nodded. “Glad we’re on the same page. The question is—does Ness know?”

I thought about it for a minute and shook my head. “Doubtful.”

“He’s walking into a trap.” West didn’t even make it a question.

“That’s my bet.” Shit. I had figured we’d need to deal with Duval, but I hadn’t meant right fucking now.

“Do you know how to deal with a rouga-yoo-hoo or whatever Duval is?” West asked.

“Yeah. We’ve got all the stuff I need,” I replied, glad for the conversation with Sorren. “Damn, I just wanted to set it up so it was on our turf instead of Duval’s.”

“It is what it is. Better hurry. We’ll need to catch a cab to get there in time.”

If this situation ended up going our way, I’d be spattered with blood on the return trip, so I hoped Ness could give us a ride home because no cabbie in his right mind was going to stop for us. “Take your machete,” I told West. “I’ve got salt, a lighter, and a flask of alcohol to torch the body afterward.”

“You think Ness will go along with that?” West’s eyebrows rose.

“The man’s a little naive about supernatural things—he’s not stupid.”

“Have fun,” Sarah said. “I’m meeting a dear friend in the private bar downstairs for illegal cocktails and the inside scoop on the Lexington Hotel. Her father was the general manager. We did the Grand Tour of Europe together, right after boarding school.” A mischievous glimmer came into her eyes. “Had ourselves quite a good time on that trip. Forget Paris—hello, Prague!”

I most definitely didn’t want to know. West just rolled his eyes and shook his head. “C’mon,” he said to me. “Probably not a good idea to be late and leave Ness to the wolves.”

Sarah wished us luck, and we headed down to catch a cab. We couldn’t talk with the cabbie listening in, which left me with my thoughts. My head felt overstuffed with everything we’d discovered, and I tried to sort out my impressions and make a plan.

If this was a trap, Duval was taking a hell of a chance because it wasn’t even full dark yet, and the meeting place he’d suggested was on a busy street filled with restaurants that would be filling for the supper crowd. Gutsy place to make a hit, but wouldn’t be the first Mob kill in plain sight, not in a town like Chicago. Anyone who knew what was good for them would find they hadn’t been paying attention, didn’t remember, had been doing something else when the deal went down. Witnesses would be nowhere to be found.

Still, it would be awfully brazen to pull something like that unless Duval was desperate, and as far as we knew, he didn’t know West and I were onto him. Unless he thought he could take all three of us and just rid himself

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