Mateo Santiago novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: Trade Day

My first job was to buy a pound of green chile and listen to strangers.

Nico drove me to Taos in the ranch's flatbed on Saturday morning, singing along to a radio station that came and went.

The Saturday market on the plaza was the one place all five packs in the valley still crossed paths.

Alphas' wives bought squash next to rogues selling firewood, and nobody wore a cuff on trade day because nobody wanted to start a war over tomatoes.

"Here's the plan," Nico said, parking behind the bakery.

"You walk, you shop, you look bored."

"I am bored," I said, "because I can't smell anything."

"Exactly," he said, delighted.

"Everybody else is going to be doing the sniffing, and they'll get nothing off you."

I wandered between the stalls in my denim jacket with a paper bag of chiles, and not one head turned.

A wolf across a crowd would normally catch a stranger's fear or anger in a breath.

I smelled like air, so they saw a short girl in a jacket and looked straight through me.

I had spent twenty-five years being a disappointment in rooms full of wolves.

It was strange to find out I could use it.

The bakery had a long window with a bench under it, where three men in good boots sat drinking coffee.

I knew all three.

One was Alpha of the Rio Pueblo pack, one was Alpha of Cañon, and one was Alpha of the Hondo Valley.

They were three of the five votes on the Council of Five Packs, and they all knew my father.

I sat on the far end of the bench, ten feet away, and ate a cinnamon roll like a girl waiting for her boyfriend.

"Aurelio's worried about the rogue ranch," said the Rio Pueblo Alpha.

"He's been worried since the spring."

"The petition for a seat's a joke," said the Cañon Alpha.

"Forty strays and a sheep farm."

"He says the strays are growing," the Hondo man said, sounding unhappy.

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