Snow: The White Crow Read Online Free PDF Page A

Issaquah.  If you just circle under the freeway overpass onto Front Street, I'm just a mile out of town.”
    She nodded, I could tell she understood partly just by what I had shared about the white crow brand.  Then she tilted her head toward me and asked, “Will you be staying in Issaquah or Seattle come  the full moon?”  I grinned, was she worried?
    I turned my palms face up on my lap with a gesture of indifference and replied with, “No, I'll stay at my camp.  I'll be moving on after I get a chance to speak with the Red Hood.”
    Her sudden jerky motions indicated that she almost slammed on the brakes but stopped herself when her foot was halfway to the brake pedal.  She looked at me and the freeway incredulously.  “Are you insane woman?  The woods are still crawling with thousands of ferals from infected Slater had compelled to converge on Seattle.  Do you have a death wish?  Their wolves would kill you in a second, or... worse.”
    I could hear the familiar haunted tone to her voice on the last part.  I have heard it many times over the centuries from old wolves that lived before walled cities, and buildings protected by Full Moon Bars and panic cages.  Of a good person who finds it hard to live with the monster they become three nights a month.  Of the lives they took before Clean Bloods learned to protect themselves better on the lunar cycle.
    She honestly believed that the curse was a fate worse than death, and they couldn't even take their own lives to end their suffering.
    Werewolves were tough, even in human form.  It took a hell of a lot to kill one if you didn't use silver, whose purity was anathema to them.  Anything short of a beheading could be regenerated.
    Over the years, some had tried drowning or hanging, even shooting themselves in the head.  They always regenerated.  If they took enough physical damage, they could die, but it was rare to sustain so much damage that they bled out before the lycan contagion could clot the wounds and start healing them.
    I assured her, “I have no fear of werewolves.  My camp is well protected and not even a roaming pack could get to me.  Wolves I understand, all instinct and hunger.  I know what drives them, it is humans I fear.  There is no beast more treacherous or cruel than a human can be.”
    I explained, “Look at what happened to Jamie and the others those men had kidnapped, tortured, killed, or infected.  That was not because of their infection.  That was not the wolves, that was their human aspects making a conscious choice to do evil.  Wolves are not evil... true they are killing machines, but they don't do it for spite. They do it because they are hungry, ravenous, and their instincts tell them to kill and hunt.”
    I almost growled. “But these... men...”  I almost spat the word. “Chose to do these evil things.  For money, for thrills.  They had Clean Blood accomplices who made the same choice, to be evil.  You have a mole in your own department who made the same choice, whether it is a Clean Blood or infected individual.”
    I shrugged and reiterated, “So no, I don't fear werewolves, I fear the humans who turn their backs on their own humanity to do evil, they are the dangerous people.”  Then I turned an evil grin on her. “And it takes dangerous people like you and me to show them the error of their ways.”
    She chuckled.  “I still think you are insane Snow, but I do like you.”  The look on her face belied her flippant tone.  She seemed to really be contemplating what I had just said.
    Then she glanced over as we exited the freeway into the city of Issaquah as the first rays of sunlight crested the mountain peaks.  “Breakfast?  Let's get some food, you owe me a story.”
    I realized that I hadn't eaten anything since I left Seattle yesterday to head up to the chateau where Jamie was being held.  Ever since I became what I now am, I haven't needed to eat, but I still enjoyed the tastes of food.  I