Wrong Side of Dead dc-4

by Kelly Meding

  Wyatt traced a finger across his teeth. “How can you look at me and not see a monster?” he asked.

  “Because I didn’t fall in love with your black eyes and straight teeth, Wyatt Truman,” I said, recalling his own words to me so many months ago. “I fell in love with your confidence and your loyalty and your ability to piss me off in five words or less. In the way you can see the logical side of things that I usually can’t. All of that is still there, Wyatt. It just has to work a little harder now.”

  He gave me a wry smile. “I’m not you, Evy. I won’t heal from this.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “You’ll risk it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t—” He cleared his throat, eyes suspiciously bright. “I don’t know if I can live like this. Or if I want to.”

  Goddammit, I was not going to cry. “Give me a week. Please.”

  “What if they don’t give me a week?”

  “They who?”

  “The Assembly.”

  A blast of anger flushed my cheeks. “Fuck the Assembly, if they think they get to dictate your fate. Their decision to eradicate the Lupa centuries ago is what led us to this. They don’t get to decide if you live or die.”

  “Don’t be so sure, child,” a deep, vaguely familiar voice said behind me.

  Wyatt froze, tensed, hands splayed against the wall on either side of him. I twisted around and onto my knees, one hand automatically reaching for the knife still strapped to my left ankle. I stopped before I actually grabbed it, once I recognized the faces standing in the doorway.

  Flanked on either side by Astrid and Marcus—each wearing identical expressions of disgusted surprise—was Elder Marcellus Dane of Felia. He was the one who’d spoken.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  2:40 P.M.

  “Don’t be so sure of what?” I asked as I stood up. Kept myself between Wyatt and the door.

  Elder Dane ignored my question, his attention on the man crouched behind me. He seemed more fascinated than upset, but I’d learned a long time ago to never underestimate the poker face of a Therian. “Remarkable,” Dane said. “There has not been a recorded human infection by a Lupa in centuries.”

  “Yeah, no shit.”

  “Stone,” Astrid said sharply. A warning to stop being so snippy with a Clan Elder. One who’d just indirectly threatened Wyatt’s life, and that was not okay with me.

  “Wyatt’s broken no Therian laws,” I said. “His life isn’t up to you to save or end.”

  “On the contrary,” Dane said, “his infection by a Lupa makes this an Assembly matter by default.”

  “Because the Assembly ordered the extinction of the Lupa Clan five hundred years ago?”

  “Yes. They were a destructive, bloodthirsty Clan then, and their habits have obviously not changed. Your human now carries their genes in his blood, and it must not be allowed to spread.”

  “You don’t know that he can spread it.”

  “Half-Bloods are just as infectious as full-Blood vampires.”

  “He’s not a vampire, and neither was the bastard who bit him.”

  Astrid and Marcus shared a look behind their Elder’s head. I didn’t know what it meant, but at least they weren’t rushing to Dane’s defense.

  “You would take the risk of him infecting other humans?” Dane asked.

  “I would take the risk of him infecting me,” I replied. “He’s fighting the effects of the wolf, and he’s strong enough to beat it. We just need time.”

  “Time is in short supply of late.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  He quirked a bushy eyebrow. He was either annoyed at being talked back to, or amused at the novelty of it. I imagined most Elders were used to the whole “I say jump, you say how high” method of giving orders.

  “Look,” I said, “let Dr. Vansis run some tests, at least. In the meantime, I will keep him isolated.”

  A moment passed, and then Elder Dane nodded. “I admit, I did not come here prepared to pass judgment on this matter,” he said. “In the absence of an appointed voice of the Assembly, I have volunteered to act in that capacity.”

  Fancy way of saying that with Jenner dead, Dane got the job. “So you’re here about Thackery.” And considering the fact that both Astrid and Marcus were here, instead of down the hall, meant only one thing.

  “You’re done questioning Thackery?”

  “The exercise proved fruitless, even with the administration of Sodium Pentothal,” Marcus said. “He gave up nothing of use, despite the loss of three fingers.”

  Ugh. Instead of a sense of poetic justice, the knowledge disturbed me. “So we still don’t know where he’s keeping Ava and Aurora?”

  “No. Just that they are with the three surviving Lupa children.”

  “What about the vampires? Did anyone—”

  “Phineas informed us of the vampire Isleen’s theory. We’re looking into the name Matthew Goodson and any connections to Thackery.”

  “Nothing from Thackery on that?”

  “Just gloating over how perfectly his plan to infect them worked.”

  Fucker.

  “Don’t assume,” Wyatt said. His interjection stole everyone’s attention. He was concentrating on the floor, conjuring up the words. Keeping his thoughts together. “Don’t assume he’s finished.”

  “He’s in custody,” Elder Dane said.

  “The hybrids at Boot Camp. The sinking ferries.”

  “He means that Thackery likes redundancies and backup plans,” I said. “Just because we have him here doesn’t mean there’s not something out there waiting for a signal. Something bigger.”

  “Something capable of infecting the other vampires?” Marcus asked.

  “Exactly.” The thought of it chilled me. I also couldn’t believe that I hadn’t thought of it sooner. “He has three Lupa soldiers left who could be out there doing anything for him. Even flipping a switch on a countdown. He said that something was already in motion that we couldn’t stop.”

  “It’s an interesting theory,” Elder Dane said, not convinced.

  “We’ve dealt with this psycho before,” I said. “He doesn’t do anything half-assed, and he doesn’t walk into a room without an exit strategy.”

  “We should inform the royal Fathers,” Astrid said. “If they decide there is a threat, it might be safer for them to evacuate the city. At least for the short term.”

  “Agreed,” Marcus said.

  One more outcome I was helpless to directly affect. If Thackery had a redundancy in place, he wouldn’t tell. Or he’d tell us just in time for us to watch it kill every vampire who’d ever used Matthew Goodson’s sunscreen.

  “Did the Assembly reach a majority regarding Jenner’s death?” I asked.

  Elder Dane gave me one of those looks usually reserved for stuff you scrape off the bottom of your shoe. “Assembly decisions are not your concern,” he said.

  “The hell they aren’t. I work here, too, and Michael Jenner was a friend of mine. Not to mention the fact that Thackery’s pups are holding on to my goddaughter and her mother, and killing Thackery too soon means they die.”

  My spiel seemed to throw Dane for a moment. He frowned at me. “You aren’t arguing to spare Thackery’s life?”

  “Hell, no, I’ll dance on the bastard’s grave when he’s finally in it. One man’s death cannot replace the loss of Michael Jenner, to both his Clan and to the Assembly. All I ask for is time. Time to find Aurora and Ava, and to find the three Lupa children before Thackery is killed.”

  “And you believe you can do this?”

  “I have to try.”

  “How much time do you require?”

  Please, oh please, let this be a yes. “Well, Thackery’s deadline for reporting back to the Lupa is seven o’clock tonight. If he doesn’t, the last child of a nearly extinct Clan dies.”

  Something in Elder Dane’s face softened. I’d hit a nerve. “To ransom a child is the mark of a true
monster,” he said. “I can give you until seven-thirty. After that, the Equi Elder will demand his justice.”

  “Thank you, Elder Dane.”

  “Just find the child and her mother.” He glanced past me. “And contain him. The Assembly will rule on our position on his status at a later time. Too much else is of greater concern to us.”

  I didn’t care if we ranked below his laser wart removal—I’d bought us time. Both to find Aurora and Ava, and to help Wyatt get a handle on his new dual nature before it drove him bat shit crazy. Or worse.

  Elder Dane left with Astrid close behind. Marcus lingered in the doorway, his gaze on the man behind me. “Can you handle him?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I replied. “Where’s Gina?”

  “Awaiting word. Shall I send her in?”

  “Yes. Get her up to speed, then have her come with Dr. Vansis so he can draw some blood.”

  “All right.”

  “Three fingers, huh?”

  Marcus smiled wickedly. “Two fingers and a thumb. Right hand.”

  “Damn.” I glanced at my left hand and the smooth bump where my pinkie used to be. This time I felt a tiny nudge of satisfaction.

  “Small comfort to Jenner’s widow and children.”

  “True.”

  Marcus slipped out.

  “Evy?” Wyatt asked.

  I turned. Squatted in front of him. His mouth was pinched, the tips of his canines peeking out beneath his upper lip. Eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Jenner is dead,” he said in such a way as to be convincing himself.

  Uh-oh. “Yes, he is. We killed the werewolf who attacked you, and then we trapped and killed two more. Thackery was angry, so he killed Michael Jenner as payback.”

  “You killed two more.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m so confused, Evy.” He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, then squeezed the bridge of his nose. “My mind is racing with so many thoughts. Not all of them mine, I don’t think. I’m angry about Jenner, and I’m angry at you for killing the Lupa. I shouldn’t be angry at both. The Lupa are our enemies, but I’m one of them.”

  “No, you aren’t one of them,” I said. “You are still a human being in all of the ways that count.”

  He bared his teeth. “I want to hurt you for hurting them.”

  “But you won’t.” And there was no way in hell I’d tell him that Phin was the one who’d actually killed two of them. I’d rather have Wyatt angry at me than at one of the Lupa’s natural enemies. Truman versus el Chimal was not an epic showdown I had an interest in witnessing.

  “All of this anger, Evy, it burns. I want to release it, but I don’t know how, except to fight or hurt, but I don’t want to do that.”

  “What about exercise? We can go to the gym or to an empty store so you can run and burn some energy.”

  “Maybe. It might help. Oh God, you smell good.”

  Any other day, I’d have thought that a compliment. Right now it was just creepy as hell. “Don’t think about what you smell. Tell me what you see.”

  “I see you.” His gaze traveled over me, around the room. “White walls. A bed. A monitor. But it’s different. Sharper. It all seems … brighter. Are my eyes different?”

  “Your sight’s definitely improved. And your eyes kind of changed color.”

  “Silver?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Will they change back?”

  The plaintive sorrow in his voice made me ache for him. “I don’t know. I hope so. The Lupa are bi-shifters. Maybe once you get a handle on the wolf, you can control the change.”

  “Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced.

  A hand knocked softly on the door frame. If Wyatt had been a wolf, his ears would have perked and swiveled toward the sound. Instead, he sat up a little straighter, attention fixed on the door where Kismet and Dr. Vansis stood. Kismet’s face was blank, collected and calm, even though her left hand shook slightly. “May we come in?” she asked.

  I looked at Wyatt, who seemed to defer the decision to me. “Yes,” I said. “Slowly, please.”

  She took a few steps in and stopped. I really didn’t blame her.

  Vansis put a small tray down on the foot of the bed. “Mr. Truman, may I draw some blood from your arm? I’d like to run a few tests.”

  “You smell strange,” Wyatt said. “I don’t like it.”

  On a list of absurd ways to answer a question about drawing blood, that definitely ranked at the top.

  “I’m Ursia,” Vansis said, sounding completely unperturbed by the response. “Is that perhaps what you smell?”

  “I don’t know. Do Ursia smell like tar?”

  Tar? I glanced at Kismet, who was making a valiant effort to maintain her composure.

  “It’s possible we smell like tar to a Lupa. To me, you smell earthy, like wet cardboard.”

  Wyatt blinked. “Evy stays?”

  “Yes, she may stay. It will only take a moment.”

  “Okay.”

  He held out his right arm while Vansis prepared his needle. I sat down next to Wyatt and held his left hand tightly in mine, ready and able to block him from attacking Vansis if he was startled or accidentally provoked. I didn’t doubt that Vansis could handle himself in a fight, but I didn’t want Wyatt living with the guilt of attacking anyone, much less his doctor.

  “Look at me,” I said.

  He did, and he didn’t look away. Vansis described what he was doing in detail before doing it. He worked with a light touch, tying the tourniquet, swabbing the interior of Wyatt’s elbow, finding the vein. Wyatt winced only once, when the needle first pierced his skin. Vansis carefully attached the first vacuum tube, and it began to fill with red.

  He collected three vials of blood, and with each one Wyatt gripped my hand tighter. Perspiration appeared across his forehead and upper lip. He breathed harder through his mouth. He hadn’t once blinked. His control was slipping.

  “Almost done,” I said.

  Vansis placed a cotton ball over the site and pulled out the needle. “Please bend your elbow.”

  Wyatt did. Once his physical contact with Vansis was over and the doctor had moved away with his samples, Wyatt shuddered. His grip on my hand loosened; my bones ached.

  “One more small request,” Vansis said. He held up two cotton swabs. “May I swab your mouth?”

  Wyatt blinked hard a few times, as if reminding himself of what exactly that entailed. I’d never seen him so muddled, not even when he was falling-down drunk. “Why?” he asked.

  “I would like to measure the amount of the Lupa virus present in your saliva. I’d like to know how dangerous it is if you happen to bite someone.”

  Wyatt considered that. “I think I’d like to know, too.” He opened his mouth without further prompting.

  Dr. Vansis worked quickly, dropping each swab into its own test tube and capping it with a rubber stopper. “When you’re up to it, Mr. Truman, I’d like to do a complete physical.”

  “Maybe later,” I said. He’d had enough. I could see it in the way he’d curled into himself and wrapped his arms around his middle.

  “Of course.” He collected his tray and left.

  Wyatt stayed huddled on the floor. Kismet hadn’t moved from her spot by the door. I was at a bit of a loss as to my next step. I needed to get out there and do something to find Ava and Aurora, but I couldn’t just leave Wyatt like this. He needed me.

  I crossed to Kismet, who had yet to lose her shell-shocked stare. “Do you have any weapons on you?” I asked.

  Her left hand reached around to the small of her back. “Gun, why?”

  “Just checking.”

  “Why is she here?” Wyatt asked. He didn’t sound suspicious or upset, just curious.

  “She’s my backup,” I replied. “I figured if someone had to kill you for killing me, you’d want it to be a friend.”

  “Oh.”

  Kismet’s glare l
eft little doubt that she was not pleased with my logic.

  “Evy, please tell me what’s going on,” he said.

  I sat down across from him, keeping us on even ground. “We captured Thackery and we found most of the kidnapped Therians. He was using their blood to stabilize his half-Bloods. It’s why Felix was so rational.”

  “Therian blood. Seems so simple.”

  “It does, only he says they didn’t drink it. He injected them with it, which is what made the difference.”

  “But he killed Jenner.”

  “Yes. Because we killed his wolves.”

  Annoyance flickered across his face. “Right. But you’re still looking for Aurora and Ava?”

  “Yes. Thackery had them in a different location. His three surviving Lupa have them, and he says that they’ll be killed if Thackery isn’t released by seven o’clock. And we can’t do that.”

  “Seven o’clock today? What time is it?”

  “Getting close to three, I think.”

  “Damn.”

  “They could be anywhere. Thackery isn’t talking. The Assembly is going to want him dead no matter what, and my goddaughter is out there, Wyatt.” My voice cracked. “I don’t know what to do.”

  He closed his eyes and pressed both palms against his temples, like someone warding off an impending headache. “Part of me is glad the Lupa have the Coni women, and I hate that, Evy. Shit!”

  I hated hearing him say those words. “But I know the stronger part of you wants them returned safe and sound. That part of you would never wish harm on a woman and her child.”

  “Don’t be so sure.” He looked at me with haunted eyes. “Don’t forget Rain. Don’t forget the people I’ve hurt to make the Triads work.”

  Rain had been a terrible mistake. Four and a half years ago, the young were-fox had been ordered executed for falling in love with a human. A human Hunter who’d been one of Wyatt’s. Wyatt had taken the execution order to protect the other Triad Hunters from knowing such an order had been placed, and her death still haunted him. Her only crime—falling in love.