Predator Code (Tales from Wildhearth #1)

Chapter 13 - I Got a Nose for Trouble

She whipped her head around at the knock, eyes wide as panic surged through her like an electric shock. After an instant of hesitation, she sprang up out of the chair and leapt nimbly over to where her gear lay in a heap. Her paws plunged into the bag, whipping her flashgun free. Who in fangs would be knocking on her door here if not the landlord? And why the landlord? She'd barely been here two days, and the quillkin had a full month of rent already deposited in her coffers.

Jett's claw curled around the trigger, and she stepped towards the door. Confirming her presence didn't seem like a good idea, but staying silent risked letting the interloper know they could enter the room with impunity. The third option made her more scared than either of those, but she did it anyway. If the knocker was one of the wolfkin hunters, the best thing she could do was strike first. She padded silently towards the door and stopped, her fur prickling all over.

With every muscle in her body coiled and ready to spring, Jett reached forward with her free paw. Behind her back, one claw curled around the trigger of the flashgun in readiness. Steeling herself, she overcame that last little kernel of fear and wrenched the door open, stepping back as she did to avoid any attempt to grab her.

She whipped the flashgun around and half raised it before she saw who was standing at the door, and her jaw dropped open in disbelief. In the doorway stood a towering, heavy-framed vulkin, his fur jet black with patches of light brown. He wore a baggy, grey body wrap that left his brawny arms bare and a jet black longkilt. Big, clawed footpaws jutted out from beneath it, curling uncomfortably as he looked at her.

"Bronco?!" she exclaimed.

"Hi."

"What did...how did you find me?"

"I got a nose for trouble, Jett," he told her, shrugging. He nodded down at the flashgun. "You gonna invite me in, or you gonna blast me blind with that toy?"

She blinked; let the barrel of the flashgun drop. For a moment, she didn't quite know what to do, but in the end, she took a step back and waved him inside, confusion fizzing in her mind. She kicked the door shut behind him, staring as he passed by, his head slowly swinging from left to right as he examined the room. He paused as the turret-like track of his skull snagged on the computer.

"Not wasting any time, are you?"

"Why are you here, Bronco?" Jett snapped sharply, her surprise quickly evaporating. "And how in the Peace and Fire did you find me?"

"Cos I know you." He shrugged again as he turned to face her. "I'm here...I'm here because I want to get your side of...whatever happened in my district." Bronco looked her in the eye, his earnest features crumpling with unease. "We've been ordered to bring you back to the lawhouse for questioning."

Jett's grip tightened on the flashgun. "By whom?"

"Just hold on." He raised a paw, his eyes catching the reflexive motion. "I'm not going to take you anywhere you don't want to go, Jett, I promise you. I just want to talk to you. Things are a mess back home, and I've got a dozen people breathing down my neck for answers."

"Sorry, Bronco, but that's not my problem," she said flatly. "I didn't kill anybody, and apparently, you're off chasing felkin, so the real killers have gotten away with everything. Case closed as far as I'm concerned."

He bristled but took a breath. "Can we go ...outside? Just round the corner for a muskbrew. My treat."

"I can buy my own drinks."

"Damn it, Jett!" he growled suddenly, making her recoil in surprise. "I know how you must feel about your folks, but this isn't just about you! All I want to do is talk. Is that really too much to ask?"