Bayou Wolf
Page 8
Payton rushed toward where he’d heard the sound. If he was quick enough, perhaps he could catch the infected wolf. The sooner the identification was made, the sooner the entire pack could resume their lives and stop living with fear.
Heedless of the cuts and scratches from bramble and low-lying limbs, Payton ran unerringly to where the howl had originated. You could get there faster in wolf form. The thought tempted him, but he’d sworn obedience to his alpha. The rules were in place for everyone’s greater good and protection.
There were no more sounds. Did the rogue wolf know he was being pursued?
Payton stilled, straining to hear the sound of the wolf running through the woods. A shuffling, grunting noise emerged nearby. He continued on, a little slower to mask the sounds of his own movement.
Payton caught sight of a small, circular clearing that he recognized as Tallulah’s sacred place. All the dream catchers were gone from the trees, but there was no mistaking the topography. He ran harder, longing to glimpse her tall body walking around the circle.
At the edge of the circle he burst through the vines and brambles.
Blood littered the sandy soil, almost directly at the circle’s center—like some sort of sacrificial offering. His mind whirled in panic. Where was Tallulah? Where was the wolf?
Footprints and paw indentations led to another trail into the woods. He followed it. Not twenty yards in, he found Tallulah.
Her right shoulder had been chewed and blood oozed from the torn fabric of her T-shirt. Her body was crumpled onto one side. She didn’t move.
Payton rushed to her side and pushed the hair from her face. Her eyes remained closed.
“Tallulah? Wake up. It’s me—Payton. Can you hear me?”
She moaned and her eyes fluttered.
Not dead. Relief made him almost dizzy.
“Open your eyes, baby. Please.”
She licked her lips and her eyes slitted open a fraction. “Wh-what happened?”
“You’ve been hurt. You’re bleeding.”
Tallulah’s eyes popped open and she glanced to her left and right.
“Who hurt you?” he asked, anxious to keep her talking.
She faced him. “Wolf,” she whispered.
Anger and guilt and fear slammed into him like a sucker punch to the gut. What would happen to her now? He’d never heard of a case where an infected wolf had bitten a human without killing them.
“It’s okay,” he assured Tallulah. “I’m going to get help.” He whipped out his cell phone to dial 911.
No signal. Terrific.
He stuffed the useless phone back in his pocket. “Going to have to carry you then.” Gently he tried to pick her up without touching her wound.
“Hurts,” she moaned.
“Sorry, darling.”
Payton lifted her and she drew in a sharp breath. “Put me down,” she ordered. “I can walk, just let me lean on you a bit.”
“Still trying to boss me around,” he teased, secretly relieved she felt good enough to argue. He walked, still carrying her in his arms. “I’ll take that as a good sign.”
“You never listen to me.” In spite of the complaint, she rested her head against his chest.
“Maybe sometimes I actually know what’s best.”
“Impossible,” she muttered, but a smile ghosted over her pale face.
He trudged onward, adrenaline boosting his strength. “How far from here ’til we get to your cabin?”
“About a quarter mile. The trail empties into a clearing that backs up to my place. You getting tired? I can walk, you know.”
“Oh, shut up,” he said cheerfully.
“I don’t think a man’s ever told me to shut up before. If I wasn’t injured, I’d make you pay for that remark.”
“Exactly. I took advantage of your weakened condition.”
The banter helped loosen the terror clawing his gut. How would the lycanthropic fever spread and affect her? At least she had a chance. He picked up his pace to a light jog.
“Ouch,” she complained.
“Shh—”
“Don’t you dare...” She licked her lips. “Don’t.”
He glanced at her in alarm. Her face and chest had broken into a sweat. Her eyes held the glaze of fever.
Payton ran, almost as fast as the nights he ran in wolf form.
“It hurts when you run. Stop it.”
Bossing and complaining as usual. Payton tried to take heart at that. At last, they reached the clearing. He raced up the porch steps and opened the screen door.
“You shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked.”
“Shut up,” she murmured.
He smiled and carried her to the couch.
“Where are your car keys?”
“Don’t need them.”
“You’re going to the hospital. Looks like you might need stitches.” And who knows what kind of infection was spreading through her blood with each beat of her heart.
“No hospital,” she insisted.
“For once, will you stop being difficult?” he asked, exasperated. He walked to the kitchen counter and eyed the area, looking for the keys.
“Listen to me.” She paused. “Please.”
He returned to her side at once.
“I can’t go,” she whispered.
“Why not?”
“If I told you ‘none of your business,’ would you honor my wish?”
“No.”
She licked her lips. “The thing is, I have a problem.”
“Go on.”
“If they have to run tests,” she said, swallowing hard, “I might—they might—find something unusual. I can’t have that happen.”
“Unusual?” The word slipped past his choked lungs. Tallulah couldn’t know it, but she expressed his own inner fears of doctors and hospitals. The lycanthropic blood that ran through him was bound to catch notice in standard tests.
“I can’t—no, won’t—explain it to you. So don’t ask.”
He sat beside her. “I won’t,” he said gently. “I understand.”
“You do?” Her eyes widened in surprise.
He threw her own words back at her. “Don’t ask because I won’t tell you why.”
“Fair enough.”
“But if this gets infected, I’ll have to take you in,” he said firmly. “Got it?”
Tallulah shifted her gaze to the ceiling. “Mmm.”
He’d fight that battle when or if it became necessary. “But in the meantime, you have a nasty bite that needs to be cleaned.”
“Call Annie. She’ll do it. She’s a healer.”
He raised a brow. “Like a nurse or something?”
“Or something. Get my phone, it’s on the nightstand in my bedroom.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave a mock salute that earned him another faint smile.
He returned with the phone and she awkwardly scrolled through the screens with her good left hand and punched a button.
“Annie? Come over right away. I’ve been bitten by a wolf.”
“You wha-a-at?”
Even he could hear the shriek.
“You heard me. Drop everything and come at once.”
He snorted and Tallulah bit her lip. “Please,” she added. She tossed the phone on the coffee table. “See? I can be nice.”
Was he imagining it, or was she turning pale beneath the golden bronze complexion? “Let’s get you out of that shirt and take a look.”
“No. Annie will be here in a few minutes. Let her do it.”
“Don’t be a baby. I’ll be gentle. Shouldn’t hurt but a moment.”
She frowned. “I’m not afraid.”
Ah, she was risi
ng to the bait. “Prove it.”
Without preamble, Payton lifted up her T-shirt and she sat forward, allowing him to slip it from her shoulders. Some of the blood had dried and as he raised the shirt above her shoulders, the wound bled fresh. Tallulah bit her lip, but didn’t utter a single moan.
The bite mark was imprinted in her tender flesh. The puncture wounds bled freely and the skin was jagged where she’d struggled to get away. If it had bitten her neck and penetrated her jugular—no, he wouldn’t think on it now.
Her practical white bra contrasted with the cinnamon glow of her skin. To his relief, she didn’t try to cover herself with a blanket or act modest.
“I’m going to get some towels and clean it up while we wait for your sister-in-law.”
“Um, not necessary—” she began.
He left, not waiting to hear her protests. Returning with clean, dampened towels, he gingerly cleaned around the bite and then as gently as possibly directly placed a washcloth on the wound itself.
Tallulah sucked in her breath, but said nothing.
“Damn.” It did appear as if a few red streaks were beginning to form, a sure sign of blood poisoning—an abnormally fast onset of infection. This did not bode well.
“What is it?” Tallulah craned her neck, trying to observe the damage for herself.
“I’m worried about infection. How can Annie help you? Does she have any nursing or medical background?”
“No.” Tallulah waited a heartbeat. “I might as well tell you, you’ll find out soon enough when she arrives.” Her face brightened. “Unless you need to go home?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh.” The hopeful expectancy dimmed. “You should go.” Tallulah warmed to her subject. “This is my cabin and I’m telling you to leave.”
He folded his arms. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m too tired to argue.” She sighed and reclined back on the sofa.
Well, this was a first. But instead of taking satisfaction at her submission, Payton was flooded with concern. She was hurt more than she let on.
“If Annie isn’t here in five minutes, I’m driving you to the ER.”
“She’ll be here any minute. Their cabin isn’t far from mine.”
Tallulah closed her eyes and the sight chilled him to the bone. He had to keep her talking, had to know she wasn’t succumbing to a coma or worse.
“Tell me about Annie’s healing. What does she do?”
Tallulah answered, keeping her eyes closed. “Hard to explain, but she practices hoodoo. Insists she isn’t a witch, but judge for yourself. She’ll mutter lots of mumbo jumbo and then probably will apply a salve and make me drink some horrible herbal concoction.”
“I don’t find this reassuring,” he replied drily.
Tallulah opened her eyes. “I know how it sounds, but it works. Tombi was once badly injured and she cured him. I’ve seen her do it many times since with someone ill. If she thinks they need to see a doctor, she’ll say so.”
“Will you listen to her if she recommends you see one?”
She gave a reluctant nod. “I’m starting to feel dizzy and the burn feels deeper, larger. Like it’s spreading.”
His unease grew to fear. Don’t let her know. He sought words of encouragement. “The shock is probably wearing off and that makes you feel the injury more.”
She nodded, accepting his theory. “Could be.”
The question that burned his heart and mind had to be asked. “Are you sure it was a wolf that bit you? Could it have been a wild dog perhaps?”
“A wolf.” She pinned him with a fierce gaze. “The same one that entered your farmhouse several nights ago.”
“Describe this wolf.”
“It had yellow eyes and grayish brown fur.”
He stifled a sigh. She could be describing almost any one of them.
“No distinctive marks?”
Her face scrunched and she tilted her head to the side. “By the time it was close enough to be seen, my only thought was to injure it or escape.”
His hopes collapsed.
“There was one thing, though. It had a tuft of black hair that started an inch above its eyes and broadened as it stretched above its ears.”
Holy crap. It couldn’t be.
Tallulah’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”
“We’ll need to find it in the wild. See if it has rabies,” he lied.
Her dark, sharp eyes missed nothing. “You’re keeping something from me. Something to do with this wolf.”
“No.” His denial was immediate and total. He would say nothing to jeopardize the pack. Without them, he was nothing. A freak. An outsider. This was a matter for the pack. He’d go home and confront the killer. The pack would seek treatment for him.
“Yes,” she insisted. “You’ve got a secret.”
“As do you.”
Disquieting silence created a void between them. One that seemed impossible to bridge.
The crunch of tires on gravel sounded from outside and he stood, glad for the distraction. He hurried to the door and flung it open.
Tombi and Annie scurried out of their pickup truck. Annie looked especially slender and petite walking with her tall and commanding husband.
Annie brushed past him carrying a black leather bag. Tombi came to a stop less than a foot away.
“What happened? Were you with her?”
The man could be every bit as fierce as Tallulah. His long black hair emphasized his high cheekbones and the sharp angles of his face. It was a different side of Tombi from the one he’d shown at the dinner party.
“I wasn’t. I was out in the woods and heard her scream. I carried her here. She insisted on calling Annie and not a doctor.”
“Never heard of a wolf attack in these parts.”
He didn’t accuse, but Payton felt the sting nonetheless.
Wordlessly, he stepped to the side and Tombi strode into the cabin, Payton following.
Annie was bent over Tallulah, studying the injury. “There is an infection of some sort,” she pronounced, pulling packets of herbs and vials from her satchel. “Tombi, set a kettle of water to boil.”
Tombi obeyed at once, his face grim and foreboding.
“Shouldn’t she go to the ER?” Payton asked. He feared doctors as much as Tallulah seemed to. What would the tests show? The results could be dangerous not only for his pack, but also for all werewolves. But if Tallulah needed it, the consequences must be faced.
“Let me try first,” Annie said. She pulled a couple of candles from her tote and set them on the coffee table, along with a picture of a saint, or an angel with wings—he wasn’t sure which.
Candles and saints and herbs? It would be no match against the strength of the lycanthropic fever.
Annie lit the candles and a stick of incense and the roomed filled with a pungent odor. “I beseech thee, Blackhawk and all the saints. Be with us to heal Tallulah.”
She unstopped one of the vials and anointed Tallulah’s forehead, then rubbed the mixture on her forehead and chest.
For once, Tallulah was silent. A shrill whistle from the kitchen interrupted the quiet procedure.
“Dampen several towels with the boiling water,” Annie called out.
Tombi walked in carrying the steaming cloths. Annie placed one on the open wound. Tallulah moaned and bucked. The sound wrenched his heart.
“Are you okay?” He edged between the women and held Tallulah’s hand. She gripped it silently. “I’ll stay with you, Lulu,” he whispered in her ear.
She gave a faint nod, not even wincing at the nickname. “Thank you.”
Annie held her other hand and spoke more of her mumbo jumbo. Tallulah’s face and chest grew clammy, the red
streaks of infection worsening.
“It’s not working,” he groaned. “She needs a doctor.”
“Don’t interrupt.” Tombi glared at him. “Give it a chance. You’re not helping.”
“The infection and fever will worsen temporarily as I draw out the poison,” Annie said in her quiet, calm way. “Perhaps it would be best if you both stepped outside until the ritual is finished.”
“I’m not leaving Tallulah,” he declared.
“Go,” Tallulah ordered. “I’ll be fine.”
“No.” He squeezed her hand. “I can’t leave you like this.”
Tombi laid a hand on his shoulder. “We need to talk anyway.”
Tallulah withdrew her hand. With a sigh, Payton rose to his feet.
Tombi motioned to the porch. “We can talk out there.”
“Call me if you need me.” Payton bent down and kissed her fevered brow before following Tombi outside.
Even though it was late afternoon, the humidity was stifling. He swiped a hand over his face. But this was nothing compared to what Tallulah must be experiencing with the fever.
Tombi leaned against the porch railing. “Just how close are you and Tallulah?”
“Maybe you should ask her. From my end, I’m, um, very attracted to your sister. But you saw for yourself that she has issues about me and my job.” Payton shifted on his feet, uncomfortable talking about his feelings. Interrogation by someone’s family member was new territory. He was never involved long enough with one woman for such entanglements.
“How did this attack happen?” Tombi said, moving on from emotional issues. “What do you know about it?”
“Like I told you before, I didn’t see the attack.”
“She finally told me about the wolf entering your house. The one you and the others claimed not to observe.”
He drew up stiffly. Much as he liked Tombi and was attracted to Tallulah, his loyalty to the pack came before everything else. “I have no explanation for that.”
“I think you do,” Tombi said quietly.
Payton stared out into the bayou woods. “I’ll speak to the others when I get back to the farmhouse. Get to the bottom of things.”