by E. A. Copen
“What?” He looked back and forth between us. “We just finished a unit in history on the Aztecs at school.”
Sal turned his face forward and leaned back against his seat. “The Shoshone tell stories about a serpent so large, his scales made the craters on the moon. The only thing that could stop him was thunder and lightning from heaven. The Cherokee call him Uktena. The Cree, Choctaw, Shawnee, Dakota... Almost every tribe has a story about a giant snake-like creature in ancient times. To some, the Great Snake is a benevolent god, responsible for rainbows and rain. Others use the serpent as a cautionary tale to scare children from going out in thunderstorms or away from rivers.”
I leaned forward, bracing myself on the dash. “And in these stories, is this serpent ever venomous?”
Sal shook his head. “But it’s like I told Chanter, these are just stories. If there really were giant, mythical water snakes, don’t you think someone would notice? There’d be snake skins, dens, evidence of some kind.”
“Unless it’s like Logan said,” Hunter said, shrugging. “If they can turn into people just like we can, they can hide anywhere and be anyone.”
Sal started the truck and put it in gear to back out of Chanter’s driveway. “Well, you’d better hope it isn’t one of those horned serpents of legend. Every story I know where the serpent develops a taste for people ends in disaster and death for the people, so much so that God intervenes on their behalf, raining down divine vengeance from Heaven.”
“I don’t see what’s so bad about divine vengeance,” Hunter said. “In fact, I’d think that’d be a good thing, right? Make your job easier.”
Sal’s voice darkened. “Divine vengeance comes in many forms, pup. I wouldn’t want this kind. The stories I know say the last time the horned serpent was defeated, the Earth was covered in storms and lightning in a battle that waged for years.”
Hunter swallowed. “Oh.”
“Then we focus on what we know is real,” I said. “We go back to the rez and drive up by the river as soon as the water recedes, look for signs of some kind of venomous snake.”
A crack of thunder rolled through as we pulled out of the long driveway and lightning lit up angry, coal-colored storm clouds that hid the moon and stars from view. “Well, going out there in the dark is stupid unless we all want to drown. As eager as I am to find this snake and help Valentino, it helps no one if we die in the process. I’m going to go out to the hospital and see if I can do anything for Valentino.”
“I thought Chanter said not to heal him,” Hunter pointed out.
“There are ways I can help without actually laying hands on him and taking his sickness into my own body,” Sal explained. “Sometimes, just being near is enough to help. I also need to be there in case there are last wishes. We don’t know how fast this is going to progress. If he makes it through the night, we’ll go out at first light and look for this snake.”
The rest of the ride passed in silence. The Texas desert passed by in darkness at seventy miles an hour, illuminated by random lightning flashes in the distance. The wreck we’d seen earlier was clear when we passed by, though there were still visible tire tracks in the mud on either side of the road and a shallow river crossing the asphalt.
I thought about my new home as the reservation’s walls rose on our right and hoped it wasn’t completely underwater. Hunter and I lived close enough to the river that it was a possibility. If the river swept all those Halloween decorations away, I’d feel terrible. Halloween was Hunter’s favorite holiday. It had been Alex’s favorite holiday as well, and I wondered if that’s why Hunter liked it so much. Maybe he felt just that much closer to his father on the day the veil between worlds was supposed to be at its thinnest.
It suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea what local Halloween traditions were. I mean, I’d always just assumed that werewolves, vampires, and fae celebrated Halloween just like humans did. After all, they’d had to blend in for hundreds of years. Surely, werewolf kids went trick or treating and vampires entered costume parties. Why should it be any different?
“Hey, Sal, what kinds of things do you do on the rez for Halloween?”
He gripped the steering wheel as we went over another patch of road covered in water and flipped on the wipers to clear the water. “Well, the fae have their Samhain. I suppose some of the practitioners who are into Wicca do that, too. Couldn’t tell you about the vampires, secretive bastards that they are.”
“And werewolves?” Hunter turned to look at Sal expectantly.
Sal puffed up his cheeks and blew out a deep breath. “Look, kid. People have been wearing our faces on masks for a hundred years, maybe more. Halloween is traditionally a day where we become caricatures in horror movies and comic books. Nobody really does much anymore.”
“Are you kidding?” Hunter raised his voice in disbelief. “You guys don’t trick-or-treat because you don’t like kids dressing up as you?”
“It’s a little more complicated than that. The government tends to get nervous any time groups of us get together. Hell, any time our respective groups get together, we almost go to war, so it’s no wonder. Nah, it’s generally best if werewolves, vampires and fae avoid each other.”
Hunter turned to me, his eyes pleading. “There’s no Halloween parties? No costume contests? No trick-or-treat?”
My heart sank. I put my hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Hunter...”
His eyes lit up bright in the dark. “You know, it doesn’t have to be that way. We could host the first Paint Rock Halloween party!”
“I’m not sure this is the best year with the flood—”
“We can get candy, and a big bucket and some apples, and you can make your caramel apples! I know the house isn’t big enough, but maybe you could talk to the people at the diner, or talk to Father Reed, see if he’ll let us use the church.”
I frowned. “I’m not sure that’s appropriate, Hunter.”
“Why not?”
Sal and I exchanged glances.
“Halloween is the day after tomorrow and this was supposed to be my last year trick-or-treating!” Hunter whined. “I’m not going to waste it doing nothing!” He turned back to Sal, pleading. “Come on, guys. You can’t practically live in Halloween Town and not have a Halloween party!”
“We’ll talk about it once everyone is safe,” I promised, squeezing Hunter’s shoulders.
He crossed his arms and slumped forward in his seat, bottom lip out.
“I’ll talk to the pack,” Sal promised. “If enough of them want to do something, we can at least throw something quick together for us, huh?”
Hunter didn’t answer. He was too busy pouting.
The city of Eden sprang up in the distance and the road rose to meet it. A decade ago, Eden had been a sleepy little town of three thousand people, over half of them inmates at the privately-run prison. Now, it was a bustling metropolis of tens of thousands.
The population explosion was partly due to the supernaturals coming out in an event known as The Revelation. Once they revealed themselves to the world, America grappled with riots and rising fears, and chose to respond by creating the Bureau of Supernatural Investigations, my employer. One of the primary goals of BSI agents was to identify supernaturals, something that wouldn’t have been possible without a test. The pharmaceutical company that developed that test, Fitz Pharmaceuticals, was based out of Eden and connected to the Eden Memorial Research Hospital. Fitz also developed various specialty medical supplies for supernaturals, like silver needles and surgical tools for working on werewolves, RH negative blood substitutes for vampires, and iron-free testing supplies for fae. With all those fat government contracts came jobs and a burgeoning economy that fueled the unparalleled growth of Concho County’s metropolis: Eden.
The empty highway turned into a series of exits and loops that led into the heart of the city. We took one of the first ones and followed the blue signs to the hospital, whose light lit up the eerily dark night around it. It wa
s the only light in the city, visible for miles. It seemed the storm had hit Eden, too, and knocked out power. The hospital, like the clinic, would be running on backup power. I hoped that didn’t interfere with Valentino and Leo’s treatment.
The road itself was mostly empty. The street light that was normally red hung, dead in the night. We stopped at the intersection anyway and Sal glanced both ways before continuing to the hospital emergency lot. It was, of course, unusually full. With the storm, it wasn’t surprising. Once the power went out, people probably stumbled into all kinds of things, and Leo probably wasn’t the only one to get caught in high water. We parked in the rear of the lot and made our way to the entrance.
The automatic doors weren’t working, but someone had propped them open with a chair. I glanced over the many waiting faces in the dark waiting room. A mother worked to quiet her crying baby, patting her on the back. It was the only sound aside from the low murmur of voices and someone snoring.
Sal went straight to the nurse’s station to announce his presence. Normally, only family is permitted back into the ER with patients, but the doctors and nurses here had learned long ago that werewolves tended to be an exception to that rule. Pack bonds often made werewolves closer than family, and there was some scientific evidence to support Sal’s claim that Valentino might heal faster with him nearby. Everyone in the pack had ID cards that listed them as next of kin to each other. Sal slid his to the triage nurse and explained the situation before he was waved back.
Hunter tried to follow Sal, but the nurse stopped him. “Sorry, hon. I can’t let you go back there.”
He started to speak, but stopped when I squeezed his arm. The world didn’t know Hunter was a werewolf. So far, I’d managed to keep that a secret from BSI, knowing that if he went public, they’d take him from me. I couldn’t lose my son. “Why don’t you sit down in the waiting room, Hunter?” I gave him a knowing look, hoping he’d understand.
Hunter grumbled, and found an empty seat in the corner between the screaming toddler and an elderly lady with ice on her arm.
I gained access by using my badge and even got an escort to the room. They had Valentino in a quarantine room, with Leo next door. There wasn’t enough room for both if something should go wrong, but being next door to each other would hopefully be enough. I stopped by to check on Leo and chat with the doctor, who couldn’t give me specifics, but asked if I knew where his mother could be reached.
Sal, who stood outside Valentino’s room, nodded and I gave the doctor the address of the hotel I knew Nina had gone to. Valentino would be pissed, but she needed to be here for her husband and son.
The doctor nodded, made a note, and said that, barring any further complications, he expected Leo would be just fine.
Valentino was another story, and I didn’t need the doctor to tell me that. Sal had enough medical training that he gave me a basic assessment as soon as I walked into the room. Valentino was sedated, but aware. Apparently, the nurse had just finished giving him a large dose narcotic pain medication that they expected to kick in at any moment. When it did, he’d probably pass out completely. For now, though, he held onto consciousness and Sal held his hand.
“Leo,” Valentino murmured.
“He’s going to be okay,” Sal promised. “Nina’s on her way by now. You just worry about fighting for you.”
I didn’t know how aware Valentino was, but I thought I’d try to get at least a little information from him. I stepped up to the other side of the bed and frowned down at his finger in the cast. “Did you see what bit you, Valentino?”
Valentino shook his head and answered me in mumbled Spanish. I looked to Sal for a translation. He spoke fluent Spanish.
“Too dark,” Sal said.
I touched Valentino’s forehead. “I’m no doctor, but those blood pressure readings look really low, and he’s burning up, Sal.”
“The fever’s good. Means he’s fighting it. What worries me is how he’ll react to the sedation. It’ll slow his pulse, which is already slow. I’m sure they’re watching him, but he could drop off suddenly. If nobody’s here when that happens...” He shook his head.
Valentino murmured something else in Spanish too low for my hearing. Sal leaned in to hear better, but Valentino stopped speaking.
“What was he saying?”
“I don’t know,” Sal said, shaking his head. “Something about the storm. I think he—”
Sal broke off when Valentino’s eyes snapped wide open and he drew in a sharp breath. His body bolted upright as if pulled by strings and Valentino let out a hair-raising scream. A whole series of nurses rushed in as the monitors all started going off at once. One of the nurses forcefully pushed me out of the room as Valentino fell back on the bed, eyes rolling back in his head and foaming at the mouth.
Sal slipped through the mess to stand in the hall with me.
“What’s happening in there?” My voice sounded small, cracked with worry. “Are we going to be too late?”
Sal’s fingers tightened on my shoulders. “Not if we can help it.”
Chapter Six
We collected Hunter from the waiting room and decided to go back to Paint Rock. There was nothing Sal could do for Valentino in his current situation, and it was too dark still to go out in high water to look for a snake.
The whole thing felt hopeless. I knew we needed to find whatever had bitten him, but let’s face it. I was no wildlife wrangler and I didn’t know the first thing about tracking snakes. The Concho River flowed in and out of the reservation through a big grate, meaning that the snake might have even moved on.
Logan’s lead had started to look promising. Even if Zara wasn’t the snake we were looking for, at least I could do something about an escaped criminal.
“He seems pretty worn out.”
I turned my attention away from the desert passing in the dark to look at Sal. He gestured to Hunter, who had slumped over and fallen asleep with his head on my arm.
“Yeah, he’s got his heart set on Halloween. Spent all day after school putting all those decorations out.” I sighed. “The storm probably washed them all away.”
“It’s because of his dad, isn’t it?” Sal glanced over at me before turning back to the road.
Headlights from a passing car washed over the cab, lighting everything up for a brief beat before passing by.
“Where I grew up in Montana, they had this fireworks display for the Fourth of July called Thunder in the Valley. Everyone came out for miles around. There was a carnival, vendors, live music... Anyway, going was a tradition. Some of my best memories with my mom are at that thing. After she died, I...” Sal trailed off and left the unfinished sentence hang for a moment. “It’s strange. Every time I heard fireworks for a long time after that, I thought about her.” He heaved a heavy sigh that moved his shoulders. “Now, all I think about is gunfire and explosives. Fucking Iraq war.”
I shifted my arm to brush my fingers through Hunter’s hair. “Alex loved Halloween for some reason. Hunter never knew his dad, but maybe this is his way of being close to him. It really would mean the world to him if you could help throw something together. I just don’t know if it’s going to work out. With Valentino dying, Leo hurt, Chanter’s cancer and the flood—”
“Hey,” Sal said and reached across the cab to grab my hand and he squeezed. “If it means that much to him, you know I’ll find some way to make it happen. You guys are important to me.”
“Um.” I stared at his fingers tangled in mine and fought to keep the heat from rising in my face. I didn’t know if werewolf hearing was good enough to hear heartbeats, but if it was, he’d probably registered the uptick in mine.
“Oh.” He pulled his hand away and put it firmly back on the steering wheel. “Sorry, I meant... That was too much, right? Too far?”
I brushed a hand through my hair and shook my head. “No. I mean, not unless it was supposed to be.”
“No. I mean, not unless you want it to be.”
I sighed and pressed my lips together. I wished we’d just move past this awkward stage into something else. Sal and I spent a lot of time together, partly due to the fact that he was Hunter’s pack mentor, partly because he was a hard guy not to like. Not hard to look at, either.
In three short months, we’d gotten closer than I’d been with anyone since Alex, but I didn’t know if we were supposed to be friends or something more. I think he wanted something more, but a recent bad divorce kept him at arm’s length.
On my side of things, there was the job. I wasn’t supposed to fraternize with my constituents, but there was no denying that he made my heart beat faster and my head cloudy sometimes. There was something there, just the timing was bad.
Sal cleared his throat, trying to break the sudden uncomfortable silence that had settled in the cab.
I should say something, I realized, and stumbled over beginning a conversation about the flood. At the same time, he said something. I didn’t catch most of it, but I did hear my name. Both of us stopped talking. Talk about awkward.
“Go on,” he said. “What were you saying?”
“You first. Sounded like what you had to say was more important than my thing.”
Sal shook his head. “No, it’s nothing. Go ahead.”
“I was just going to ask if Paint Rock has ever flooded before.” I let a deep breath out through my nose and tried to sink into the seat and disappear. Smooth, Judah. Natural disasters are always great small talk.
“I mean, we get flash flood warnings and watches all the time, but never anything like this. Not since I’ve lived here, but I haven’t been here as long as Chanter. He’s lived in Concho County since before the Revelation. Why?” He turned to glance at me, the look on his face one of worry.
“It makes me wonder if maybe the storm itself has something to do with what’s going on.” I leaned on my elbow. “Why, what were you going to say?”
He turned his attention forward and cleared his throat. “Nothin’.”
“Nothin’?” I quirked an eyebrow. Sal didn’t often drop the g‘s from his words, not unless he was really trying to dial up the charm. He might not have been a native Texan, but he’d been in the Lonestar State long enough to have picked up a bit of the drawl. I think he thought he was being cute.