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It was well after dark when Victor returned to Asher.

"Asher?"

"Oh thank god!" The woman flung herself into the dark drifter's arms, and buried her face in his spiky hair. "I was sure they'd killed you by now!"

"No, no," Victor said reassuring her. "Look, the town elders have offered us hospitaliy for the night."

"No!" Asher said, eyes wide. "Please Victor, can we jut go!?"

Victor quirked an eyebrow, he'd never known Asher to pass on free food and a warm bed, but her face was drawn. Something was obviously bothering her. He briefly returned to the Alpha's house and told them he'd be unable to stay. They accepted it, and wished him blessings. He blessed them in return, in his own way. They smiled and shook their heads, obviously not believing in his God. Then he returned to Asher. She was quiet as they strode down the trail. The moon was waxing, and it'd be full in a few days, plenty of light to walk by. Victor sighed, exhaling a cloud of steam, then lit a clove. They'd better keep walking till after the coldest part of the night. They could get back on a steadier, more daylight oriented schedule after finding a town Asher was willing to stay in. But till then, he figured they'd be doing at least part of their walking at night. a few miles away from the werewolf village, Asher finally spoke again.

"That was so cute," she commented. "I didn't know you liked animals that much."

"Hmm?" Angel asked, a bit confused.

"You work so well with them."

"Oh, the werewolves," he said, catching on. "Yes well, I always have. Some nicer than some true humans."

Asher's face twitched a little, but Victor didn't notice it. Since she was feeling better, he could tell her what he'd been told.

"Well, someone's been killing their outlying farms, and apparently taking their children captive. They've even found a few links of silver chain lying about to prove it."

"Sloppy," Asher said without thinking.

"Yeah, I guess the bastards are getting too cocky."

"I guess," she said dryly, shaking her head. It was too dark under the trees for Victor to see her expression, even if he'd been looking.

"I hope to God that I'll be able to find these bastards," he said with the fervency of a prayer. Asher decided she should stay quiet. The rest of the night was spent in a quiet rhythm of movement, as they moved down the road to the next town.

Asher had a bit of luck finally, in Brokepass. Because Doc had stayed where she'd left him, unlike almost all the rest of her friends. This time, instead of just going off to meet with him, she brought Doc back to meet Victor and join them for dinner at the inn.

Doc was not the sticky scholar that Victor had expected. Rather, he was a good head taller than the diminutive hunter, and much broader. Doc was however deeply lined with age, and his hair had white drifts in the brown hairs. He had the walk of a born warrior and wore a two handed sword bare inches shorter than he was. However over the other shoulder he also bore a scribe's bag and a doctor's bag.

"Hey there, so you're little Asher's new boy toy."

"Heh," smiled Victor flashing a look at Asher, who gave him a look.

"He's known me since I was knee high to a milk-cow Victor. He just can't take me seriously."

"Oh you're easy to take seriously," Doc said lighting a pipe. "Anyone who doesn't take you seriously has much trouble coming to him. Your taste in men however..."

Victor snorted and rolled his eyes, lighting a clove.

"Well, Angel boy, Asher's asked me to have a look see at you."

"Why?"

"Doesn't want you getting sick before she'd done wearing you out I guess."

"I wouldn't worry, I'm a qualified doctor," Angel said guardedly. "I don't think this is necessary."

"Aw come now boy, you want me to tell her no?"

Victor looked at Asher who gave him an innocent little smile. He sighed, exhaling scented smoke.

"Alright, fine."

"That's one strange little man you've got there."

"Hmm?" said Asher, looking up.

"He's getting dressed now and having another one of his clove cigarettes. Phef."

"Oh you're a fine one to talk," she said pointing with her chin at the pipe he was thumbing full of tobacco.

"Feh," Doc said sitting down. "But he's just... odd that's all."

"But is he alright?"

"Oh yes, healthiest little bugger I've seen in ages."

"No trace of... controls?"

"Nope. No trace of anything but vampire venom in his blood."

"Vampire Venom?" asked Asher, confused.

"Yeah, but being a hunter like you told me he is, there's plenty a chance for that to happen."

"Alright," she said softly.

"So what are you up to with the little Angel?"

"You heard that Brant died?"

"Yes... how'd that happen?"

Asher reached over and picked up the bottle of wine on the table and poured them both glasses full.

"We were inspecting the line, and the creatures found us. Chased us cross country and set off an avalanche. I lived. He didn't." She gulped down her wine. "As simple as that."

"But what's Brant's death have to do with the little dark bugger?"

Asher mimed a punch at her friend.

"Well... right place, right time... total physical attraction... oooohhhh..." She melted slightly down in her chair and wiggled her toes. The barkeep looked over and raised an eyebrow, then grinned and returned to what he was doing. Asher pulled herself together.

"That good huh?"

"Just because you can't see the draw in flesh-games..."

"Hey now, I've got nothing against a nice cuddle now and again, but if it makes your mind go Asher, our entire business could be out."

"Don't worry about that," Asher assured him. "But Angel could be very valuable to us if I can just ease him into what we're doing."

"Yeah, I heard about 'Dark Angel' a bit of a do-gooder."

"What's that got to do with what we're doing?" Asher demanded. "It's not like we're doing anything worse than trapping."

"As you say, girl child," Doc said nodding and scratching under his three day beard.

"By the way, I've got information for the operation."

Just then Victor came down the stair finger combing his hair and went over giving Asher a kiss on the cheek.

"I hope you're satisfied now that your friend has had a look at me, Royal." She made a face.

"Yes, I suppose so." Victor yawned and stretched.

"Well, I'm going to have a look around the town, see you back here later, okay?"

"Yes Angel-luv. I'm just going to talk to Doc about some lush new hunting grounds for our business."

"You're just a merchant with an attitude problem Asher."

"And you love me," she said dragging him down by the front of his shirt and kissing him firmly. "Go on with you."

"How can I argue with a beautiful woman when she's right?" demanded Victor and giving her a wink headed out the door to the market.

Victor was looking for information on slavers today. Specifically dealers in exotics.

"Are you sure you don't have any information for me?" he asked sweetly, leaning forward.

"Yes... yes... I do!" gasped the man "Just please... Please let me up...!" Victor took his foot off the man's chest and stepped back allowing the slaver to catch his breath. "Werewolf children you're lookin' for?"

"Yes."

"None right now, all got sold."

"And I'll deal with that later," Angel said, eyes dark and stormy. "I want to know where you get them. Garou don't sell their own, and that's the only expectable kind of slaves in this area."

"Not slaves - pets!" gasped the slaver as Victor lifted his foot to bear down again.

"Pets?" said Victor not believing; not wanting to believe that any human could be that callous. The slaver nodded vigorously.

"Yes yes!! Please let me go! No harm in me! Never do it again! Yes!" With a sigh and a curled lip, Angel let the man up. There was nothing he could kill the man for. It didn't stop him from wishing he could.

"Get out of my sight," he spat, and the slaver ran, scattering clumps of snow from his heels. Angel sighed, and shook his head, bangs whisking his eyelids as he lit a clove. He studied the ground, not wanting to look up at the yard where people went from free creatures to chattel. He didn't like slaves on the best of days, and this entire prospect left him with a taste in his mouth that a whole pack of cloves wouldn't disguise. He scuffed at the bootmark of some lady's shoe, and at a scrabbling claw mark. Werewolves were expensive to keep, and even more so to get. If you got them young enough it was said you might even be able to train them so they never thought they were human. Victor removed his cigarette and spat. He heard a noise and looked up. In the gate of the courtyard was a wolf, staring at him with sharp, ice blue eyes. A lady wolf. Something about the way her body was shaped under the groomed gray fur was off. Seeing him looking, she walked over to a post and rubbed against it, as if she was a dog scratching an itch. Then she scrabbled at the post and managed to rear to a standing position. Her legs changed - just a bit, till she was almost human, if humans had evolved from wolves. She stepped away from the post and wobbled. Victor moved forward slightly, she drew back and dropped back to all fours flinching and growling. It was now obvious what the matter was with her wolven form - it wasn't that much different than the partly human one she wore now. Victor took a step back, and presented his empty palms to her. She sniffed his gloves, and turned those ice blue eyes on him, blinking sleepily a few times. He crouched down till he was about level with him. She sniffed at his face, then licked his forehead.

"It is you," the wolf said, with a gruff chuckle. Angel almost fell backwards into the dirty snow to hear such a clear voice coming from a mostly wolven face. "I saw you," the wolf continued. "Walk with me." She turned away and started down the street. Victor scrambled to his feet and followed. At the end of the street she paused to see if he was following. The wolf bitch nodded to herself thoughtfully and continued to amble down the street like a large dog. No one gave her a second look.

"You are deep in the mother's memory," the wolf told him softly as they walked. "Don't look at me while I talk."

Angel jerked his head up and lit a clove, curious and confused.

"She remembers you fondly, even if you were not born of her ways."

"Who are you?" he asked, not looking at her, as they walked down the street.

"Who I am, dark one, is not important."

"It's important to me."

"Why should it matter?" The wolf-bitch paused and scratched an itch. Victor stared at her dumbly. She gave a sighing chuckle, a slightly different tone than the one she'd given before, and turned pointing with her nose down the street. "Look, Angel, and what do you see?"

Victor looked down the street, and saw men and women walking about, interacting, faces without emotion, except when it suited them, living empty lives, clouded with dirt and grime and the gray hopelessness of people who have nothing beyond their work. In this he saw Asher, bargaining with a street vendor over what looked like a bag of winter fruit. It looked as if it had been mage-imported or stored. He started to move down the street, then paused and looked back at the wolf. She was gone. He blinked then felt fur at the back of his legs.

"The mother knows these people too, and she weeps, for they are caught in a web and a dance. Some know of her children's plight. And some, deep in their hearts know it's wrong."

"What are you doing here?"

"I was bought as a cub. I have silver wrapped tight round my neck and paws, under my fur. I cannot shift to do battle, and the silver cannot be removed. I am a street wolf now."

"What do you do?" he asked, not looking at her. The wolf lifted a paw and licked it, he saw out of a corner of his eye.

"I can get human enough to please some, though my face does not change. I try to help others in my plight."

"What happened to your..."

"'Owner'?" inquired the wolf. "He thought that I had no more brains than a dog, he beat me till I turned on him, then called for me to be shot. But he never told them I was anything more than what I appeared to be. They did not shoot me with anything but lead; and I lived."

"I don't think you are a killer."

"I will never be. But I can see them."

"What do you see in me?" he asked. He was watching Asher though. She finished dickering, and a bag was exchanged for coin. Walking a bit away from the vendor, she opened the bag and produced a fruit, which she cleaned on her coat sleeve and bit into with evident enjoyment.

"You have death on your hands, sunk in so deep it is part of your spirit. But you are not a killer, I do not think."

Victor sighed, wondering what the wolf meant by that.

"You will do much in your life, this I can see."

"You should not stay in this town."

"The mother will send for me. Only then will I leave." The wolf licked her paw again. "After all this is all I have ever known."

"You do know you can mate with humans, and that one day you may be with pups?"

"Perhaps. And perhaps then the mother will call and I will return to the dark pines where I was whelped." The wolf shook her head, philosophically. She looked down the street where Victor's eyes were fixed. "Do not worry for my people Angel. You will serve us many times as the years go by, and I fear we will always be in your debt."

"What?" Victor said, turning to look at her again, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"If you look at me when you speak, the folk will wonder why you talk to a dog."

Angel turned his eyes down the street again. Asher had paused still chewing on the pit of her fruit, to look at a knife-grinder's skill.

"It is possible that you will even stop that which plagues your mind now."

"If God wills it," Angel said, hands clenching. What he would give to make sure there was never another trapped creature like the one at his side.

There was a long silence and then the wolf-bitch spoke again.

"Be careful of your companion," the wolf said, raising her chin and scratching beneath it. "She is a killer. She's got the death eyes." The bitch wandered away just as Asher finally spotted him and came up, giving him a fruit flavored kiss.