Kerri’s skin puckered out in jagged strips, dark blood crusting the edges. Logan held his breath as he poured the saline over her neck, for fear the wound would spring back to life and start bleeding everywhere again. From the amount on the table, it didn’t seem like Kerri could have much more to spare.
Once the wound was clean, Logan slowly, painstakingly stitched it closed. Twenty minutes had never felt so long. When he finished, he rubbed his face across his shoulder, wiping away the sweat that had gathered there. He let Violet take over from there, with antibiotic ointment and a gauze bandage.
Zelda stood by the sink, struggling with her own dressing. Logan watched her a moment, questioning his better judgement, before he couldn’t take it any longer. He walked around the counter and snatched the roll of gauze from her.
“Let me do it,” he said.
Zelda flinched again, and he couldn’t help but feel like the biggest asshole in the world. Still, he refused to apologize. His anger boiled beneath the surface, making him feel reckless and hyper aware of the coming full moon.
He reigned in his foul mood, refusing to let his wolf take control, as he gently wrapped Zelda’s hand and forearm, careful not to touch her skin.
“What next?” Violet asked, wringing her hands as she walked around the table.
Zelda blinked stiffly. “She might need a blood expander. I have an IV kit and some Hetastarch upstairs.”
“Okay. I can do that. We’ll get her set up in a room.” She nodded to Grant. “Grab the stretcher.”
Grant hurried to the coat closet where Violet had found the wedge pillow, and where Zelda kept more medical supplies than coats. He came back with a stretcher and a neck brace. After the brace was secured around Kerri’s neck so her head wouldn’t flop around and pull the stitches loose, Logan helped transfer her from the table to the stretcher.
As Violet and Grant disappeared up the back stairs, Logan turned and placed both hands on the kitchen counter. “You know I have to report this to the council, right?”
Zelda swallowed and rested her bandaged hand against her chest. When her eyes met his, they were wet. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
She placed her good hand over his on the counter, flinching when he pulled away.
“Don’t—” he bit his lip, stopping himself from finishing the sentence.
He’d just watched her barbeque a man twice his size by pointing her finger at him. She was not the fragile human he had courted for the past year. He didn’t know what she was.
He stood taller, trying to push the tension out of his shoulders. “This will go a lot easier on both of us if you come with me.”
Zelda lowered her voice and took a timid step closer, watching him with solemn eyes. “I don’t want to leave my people here alone. What if the Raymore Clan comes back?”
“They won’t,” Violet said, descending the stairs. She circled the counter and washed her hands at the sink. “They’ll lick their wounds for a day or two. They’re not smart enough to regroup any sooner than that. And I’m pretty sure they ain’t dealt with a witch before.” She looked at Zelda, piercing her with hurt, accusing eyes.
Zelda held a hand up. “I’m not. Not anymore.”
Logan snorted, and Violet gave him a cold look.
“At any rate,” she said, “Grant and I can watch the place while you drag Doc off to offer her up to the council.”
Logan’s jaw tensed. “In a day or two, when those mangy bastards do return, you’ll want the council in your corner. And don’t forget, the council is the reason your sorry lot have sanctuary in this town in the first place, you ungrateful mutt—”
“Logan,” Zelda hissed, stepping in between him and Violet. “I’ll go with you.”
He growled deep in his throat, waiting for Violet to lower her bloodshot eyes before he turned for the door. He ripped it open, letting it slam in to the wall, and stalked out into the back parking lot.
The sun was hanging low in the sky, bleeding pink-orange out over the city. In the far distance, charcoal clouds stirred along the horizon with a soft grumble of thunder, promising dreadful things. A ghostly moon, a sliver away from full, rose higher as the red sun slipped away.
Logan kicked at the gravel. Then he kicked a tire on his truck. He pounded his fist impatiently along the top of a wheel well. His restlessness shifted into paranoia. He felt eyes staring at him from the dark shadows pooling around the few buildings that surrounded the pub. Get it together, he thought, and shook his head.
The back door closed, and Logan turned to watch Zelda cross the parking lot. She had pulled on a jean vest over her blouse, but he could still see her shoulders tremble, and her forehead crinkled more with every step she took. She was scared. It almost made him laugh. She could shoot lightning from her fingertips. What did she have to be afraid of?
Zelda stopped in front of him, her eyes turned down in submission. It made his skin tingle as the alphic nature of his wolf was appeased. The human part of him still felt a sucker punch of guilt—and a tinge of white knight that urged him to pull her into his arms and swear to take her secret to the grave. But it was too late for that.
Selena is going to kill me, he thought again.
He’d spent the last year telling his sister that Zelda was harmless. That her misfit wolves, while lacking decorum and a high school education, didn’t pose a threat. He had no idea just how wrong he’d been.
The Raymore Clan was trouble enough, but the revelation that Zelda was a witch would not be taken lightly by the council. They were in the business of keeping secrets—secrets were not kept from them.
Logan wanted to believe that they wouldn’t exile her, or worse, demand her head. He’d witnessed them put down a rabid vampire two summers before, so anything was possible. Still, he wasn’t sure he could stand by and do nothing if someone tried to harm Zelda. As mad and confused as he was, a part of him still longed for her. He couldn’t help it.
Logan pressed his lips together and yanked open the passenger door. Zelda slowly climbed inside, and he shut the door behind her. He circled the truck and entered the driver’s side. As he turned the key in the ignition and the truck grumbled to life, he turned to Zelda.
“Selena said something about visiting Dr. Delph tonight, so we’ll head over to Orpheus House. It’s a five minute drive. That’s how long you’ve got to decide if you want the council to hear the truth from me or from you.”
He put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.
Chapter Nine
Dr. Delph meditated on Sundays. Or at least, he preferred to meditate on Sundays. Selena knew this, but courtesy had never been one of her virtues. She paced the length of his private office, from the arched window to the engraved door, her work boots shedding dirt and pebbles on the white rug stretching between the desk and sofa.
Orpheus House was unusually quiet, like the towering fortress was taking a deep breath, anticipating the full moon. The werewolf in the cellar hadn’t so much as sniffled all day, and even the cheese factory manager’s changeling wife was in a docile mood.
Selena lifted a finger in the air. “She’s taking in every goddamned stray that sniffs at her door—and now it’s my problem. I told you it would come to this,” she snarled.
Dr. Delph sighed and propped an elbow on his desk, resting his chin in his hand. “Everyone is this town is essentially a stray that we took in, Selena.”
She paused and leaned over his desk. “There’s a big difference between the folk you send Graham out to fetch and the pack trash that harlot’s been drawing in.”
“Harlot?” Dr. Delph grinned. “The girl’s not been involved with anyone that I know of. Attracting the attention of your brother hardly qualifies her as a harlot.”
“She’s up to something. I just know it.” Selena rapped her knuckles on his desk and huffed.
“Her lot doesn’t seem especially harmful, in and of themselves. It’s their collective past that is drawing the unwanted attentio
n. They need to be more widely dispersed if they continue to seek shelter here.”
Selena gave him a disgusted look. “Nice try.”
A heavy knock at the door made them both jump.
Dr. Delph stood and buttoned the collar of his shirt. He felt underdressed, but to be fair, he hadn’t expected any visitors today. At least he’d changed out of the bathrobe he’d been wearing when Selena barged in.
Living at Orpheus House allowed him to be close to his patients in the event of an emergency. Unfortunately, it also seemed to eliminate most of his personal time. Not that he’d had much of a social life to begin with.
Selena fingered the window blinds, peering out across the wide front parking lot. “Speak of the devil.”
She stalked to the door ahead of Dr. Delph and swung it open, blocking his view.
“What do you want?” she barked. “And what is she doing here?”
Dr. Delph reached the door and nudged Selena aside. Logan, Selena’s pup of a brother, and Zelda Fulmen, the woman Selena had been ranting about for the past hour, stood in the dark hallway.
“We have a problem,” Logan said, his gaze sliding from his sister to Dr. Delph.
Dr. Delph immediately noticed the fracture in Zelda’s aura. She’d broken a vow.
Selena sniffed the air, curling her nose. “What’s that smell? It’s like rotting meat and melted plastic.”
Zelda lifted a bandaged arm and held it protectively against her chest. She opened her mouth, then looked helplessly to Logan.
“The Raymore Clan attacked the pub,” he answered for her.
Selena snorted. “Of course they did.”
Dr. Delph frowned at her before ushering Logan and Zelda inside.
“Was anyone else hurt?” he asked, gently touching Zelda’s shoulder to attain a subtle reading.
Her body sagged and he felt a wave of remorse flow so heavily from her that he staggered back a step. She hadn’t been in such bad shape since their first meeting, and it pained him to see her this way. A year of healing, gone in an instant.
“Kerri was bitten, and I couldn’t help her.” Zelda wept, gripping her bandaged arm with her good hand.
“You did help her,” Logan said. “You walked the rest of us through what needed to be done, and you—”
Zelda closed her eyes, like she was waiting for the sky to fall. Logan cleared his throat.
“And you chased them off,” he finished.
Selena cocked an eyebrow. “I imagine they were looking for the girl you dumped on me this afternoon?”
Zelda lifted her chin. “I didn’t point them your way, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Selena ground her teeth together and stepped into Zelda’s personal space, looming over her. “It doesn’t matter where you pointed them. They’re going to be a pain in our asses until they get their bitch back.”
“Enough.” Dr. Delph grasped Selena’s shoulder. They locked eyes, and for a moment, he thought she might turn on him next. He willed some of his calm her way, and the tension in her shoulders released, though her eyes still held daggers for him.
He turned back to Logan and Zelda. “Selena is right. We need to take some form of precaution, in case this happens again. The pub is surrounded by businesses that operate during regular business hours—not evenings and weekends. Perhaps an alarm system could be of use?”
Selena rolled her eyes at his suggestion. “Why not just get a dog whistle? It’d be about as useful.”
Dr. Delph sighed, but otherwise ignored her. “Phil, the locksmith on Monroe Street, works nights—”
“Because he’s a vampire,” Selena injected snottily.
“—he also installs top-notch security systems. I’ll give him a call and send him over to get a bid on your place.”
“He’s expensive,” Selena interrupted again.
Dr. Delph acknowledged her this time, jerking his head around. “I’m in a generous mood.”
Selena pulled away from him and flopped down on the sofa in front of his desk. “Must be nice.”
“I offered to buy a security system for you too.”
Dr. Delph felt a stab of annoyance. This was supposed to be his day off. He turned away from Selena’s scowl and tried to smile at Zelda and Logan.
“Go home and get some rest. We’ll get this sorted out tomorrow,” he said
They left quietly, neither of them saying goodbye to Selena.
Dr. Delph slumped back down behind his desk. “You really have a way with people, don’t you?”
The brazen werewolf grinned sharply at him and folded her arms. “You knew she was a witch, didn’t you?” she said, surprising him. “She stank of magic, and not the fluffy bunny, hippy kind. I’ve never smelt it on her before tonight. Why?” Her tone lost its berating edge and was suddenly serious.
Dr. Delph shrugged. “This is the first time she’s used magic since coming here.”
“Why?” Selena asked again, more intently.
Dr. Delph took a deep breath and looked down at the scars on his palms. “The same reason you refuse to be part of a pack again. The same reason none of us are fit for the real world. We’re broken.”
Chapter Ten
Logan’s big blue truck puttered through town. He hadn’t looked at Zelda since they left Orpheus House, and the silence was killing her. The dark clouds had finally stretched out to claim the entire sky, and the moon peeked through briefly as the first fat drops of rain splattered the windshield.
Zelda leaned her head against her window and sighed, fogging the cold glass with her breath. Her blistered hand and arm still ached, and now the pain extended all the way up into her chest, where her heart throbbed with each pulse that shot through her.
“Why didn’t you tell them the truth?” she asked softly.
Logan’s brow dipped lower as he squinted at the road ahead. A long moment passed, and just when Zelda decided he wasn’t going to talk to her, he did.
“You’ll have to stop taking in strays. At least for now. You’re in enough hot water as it is.”
Zelda’s gratitude dissolved. “I won’t turn away people in need. I took a sacred oath.” Her voice broke as she remembered other oaths she’d made—one in particular that had been broken tonight.
Logan’s gaze flickered to her for a split second, then back to the road. “Does this oath say it’s all right to put your former patients in harm’s way?”
A lump formed in her throat as she thought of Kerri. She swallowed and looked out her window. The rain was coming down in earnest now. Lightning flickered through the sky, and she felt her arm tremble with false anticipation.
“Zee, are you listening to me?” Logan spoke louder over the roar of the rain. “You can’t take in any more rejects. It’s not safe for you. It’s not safe for your wolves.”
“You don’t care about my wolves,” she said, rubbing the heel of her hand over her cheek to wipe away a rogue tear.
Logan gripped the steering wheel and pressed his lips together. “No, I don’t. But you do. So I suggest you do right by them.” He gave her a sharp look, but it softened the longer he stared at her.
Zelda’s anger slipped away. “Why didn’t you tell them the truth?” she asked again.
Logan looked back to the road and sighed. “Because someone’s gotta look after those mutts, and it won’t be me.”
Zelda smiled and hugged herself, shivering against the chill the rain had brought with it. They pulled into the pub’s back parking lot just as the storm faded off, leaving only a sprinkle behind.
Logan put the truck in park and killed the ignition as he turned to face Zelda. His green eyes had reclaimed some of their sparkle. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a witch?”
The question threw her, even though she had known it would come eventually. Two years, and it still hurt like yesterday.
“I took an oath never to use magic again,” she said, tucking a dreadlock behind her ear. She looked down at her lap and measured her bre
ath, waiting.
“Why?” Logan asked gently.
“I broke the most sacred rule of my coven. I used magic in a way it was never meant to be used, and for that, I had to be punished.”
She left off the bit about how the punishment had been her own doing, since she had been too much of a coward to face her coven.
Logan’s brow crinkled. He leaned back against the bench seat and glared out the windshield. “Never again though? That seems a little extreme.”
Zelda laughed bitterly. “Believe me, I deserve much worse.”
Logan’s green eyes found hers. “No, you don’t.”
“You have no idea.” Zelda whispered, her eyes welling with tears again.
The rain stopped, and the sound of squealing tires filled the silence. A rusty white van ran up over the curb, digging deep ruts in the soggy stretch of lawn that lined the parking lot. The side door flung open, and a bloody, naked man was tossed out like a sack of garbage.
The door slammed shut as the van peeled away from the curb, and Zelda’s instincts kicked in. She was already halfway across the parking lot before Logan’s shouts reached her, echoing over the soft rolls of thunder in the distance.
She knelt in the muddy grass and gently took the man’s shoulder, rolling him onto his back. He had the same mutated markings as the men who had ambushed the pub, but the blood made her assume his condition wasn’t from drugs, but rather an injury. She felt over his chest and stomach, failing to find the source of all the blood.
Her hand came away sticky, but the consistency was all wrong. She pinched her fingers together, studying the tackiness. When she looked down again, amber eyes glowed up at her.
The man smiled viciously. His hands latched on to her injured arm, and he sank his mutated teeth into the bend of her elbow. Zelda gasped.
Logan was at her side in an instant. His hands wrapped around the man’s head, one over his chin and the other across his forehead. His face distorted and he groaned as he pried the man’s mouth open. As soon as Zelda’s arm slipped free, Logan twisted the man’s head to the side, breaking his neck with a wet crack.
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