“Yes?” The door opened a crack and a man’s voice greeted me.
“I’m the nurse, here to see the patient,” I said.
A beat passed before the voice spoke again. “Who sent you?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Are we in the habit of using names now, in open air, right here on the doorstep?”
When an immediate answer didn’t come, I sighed, made a show of taking out my cell phone and snapped, “Fine. If you choose not to let me in, it’s on your head if she’s not ready for tomorrow’s procedure. What’s your name? So I can report you.”
The chain on the door slid back slowly and the door opened slightly farther. The man was big. I don’t mean big as in tall; big as in brick-wall, his width seemingly equal to his six-foot height. His shoulders were barely contained by a light-weight jacket which also strained over his biceps. His jaw was broad, his eyes small and gray, and I wanted to run away from him screaming.
Instead, I thought, Carson, set one foot forward, and demanded, “Well?”
“How come I haven’t seen you before?”
“Obviously,” I looked him straight in the face, “because I haven’t been here before. Did you think you knew everyone involved in this entire…operation? That all personnel were at all times involved in this particular venture? Or have you considered the possibility there are those of us involved in other ways and means?”
“Right,” said Steroid-Man. “Well, I guess the others are busy tonight.”
Please, let the others be busy tonight.
“They fill you in?”
“I’ve been briefed, yes,” I said, coldly.
“Right. She’s up the stairs on the left.”
With those words and a pointed finger, he stepped aside.
I took three steps inside the door and then turned back to him. “I assume she’s fully restrained and incapacitated?” My tone indicated I had a hard time assuming competency of him or anyone else involved.
“Of course. You want a guard?”
“That will not be necessary. If you have done your job correctly, that is.”
I made it in the house.
****
My heart pounded loudly, seeming to say, “You’re a stupid idiot, a stupid idiot” as I walked through a very ordinary living room in the direction Steroid-Man pointed. Sure enough, I came upon a stairway leading to the second floor. I tried to contain my nerves well enough to take note of everything: dining area and kitchen straight ahead, stairway on the right, hallway to the left that looked to contain a door to the garage and probably a bathroom, another door off that hallway…an office? In the kitchen, three men sat around a table that had seen better days. They looked like thugs. Thugs playing poker who seemed to think their fellow at the door must have cleared me adequately. One of them—sandy hair, squinting eyes, cigarette in his mouth—leered at me slightly. Ewwww. I tossed my curls and turned my back on him, walking up the staircase. I felt partial relief when I rounded the corner of the stairs because I didn’t have to worry they stared at my back. Although I found it disconcerting to think I didn’t know what they were doing below. What if they called someone to check on this so-called nurse?
Shut up, heart. I could barely think over its thumping.
The upstairs hall saw a continuation of the ugly light blue carpet from below. Who the hell carpets their house entirely in light blue? Resale value, people. Five doors led off the hallway, three of which stood open. Biting my lip, I tiptoed down the hall to peek into each room: two bedrooms and a bathroom, none of which were occupied, all beyond filthy. Like, beer bottles, cigarette butts, dirty clothes filthy. And I won’t describe the bathroom. Suffice it to say, I felt a fresh surge of sympathy for Kayleigh. Of the closed doors, only one was on the left side, Kayleigh’s location. But…
I walked over to the other door, the closed door on the right. Standing right outside it, I held my breath and leaned my ear against the door. Nothing. I reached a somewhat shaky hand and tried the doorknob. Finding that it turned freely, I pushed ever-so-gently on the door.
“Hey!”
I swiveled around, hand flying to my chest.
“I said the left door. I forgot to give you the key. Here.”
How the hell had Steroid-Man climbed the stairs so quietly?
“Don’t go in there, he’s in there.”
“Oh.” I reached out and took the key from him. “Thanks. Sorry about that, I always confuse my right and left—kind of dangerous, being a nurse and all, always worrying I’ll get something wrong during surgery.” I laughed nervously.
Shut up, Julie.
“Yeah.” Steroid-Man looked like he also thought I should shut up. “Hey, what did you say your name was, again? I gotta log it.”
“Jane Halloway,” I said in a steady voice. “Thank you for the key and for the warning. I wouldn’t want to wake him up.” I used the same emphasis the guard had. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get to work.” I made a little shooing movement with my hands and turned my back on Steroid-Man to walk confidently across the hall to the other closed door.
Yes, the only door with a lock on the knob. Very observant, spy Julie Hall should have noticed that right away. Actually…I nearly missed the lock with the key as I realized in retrospect one of the doors downstairs also had a lock on the outside. Curious.
My shaking fingers inserted the key and I risked a look over my shoulder to make sure Steroid-Man had left. With a small sigh of relief, I turned the key and twisted the handle.
Before I’d even opened the door half an inch, an immensely loud and angry growl greeted me from inside the room. I jumped again and quickly pushed the door all the way open. Sidling inside, I closed it firmly behind me and scolded, “Shhhh! Quiet down, don’t wake him up, whoever he is.”
The growling subsided, but perhaps out of puzzlement as much as anything else. My own mouth dropped open from shock as I saw Kayleigh.
First of all, she was gorgeous. Now, I often described Sheila as gorgeous and she is—eye-catching, poised, dramatic, full of charisma. Eliza had her own quiet beauty and grace. Even though I hated my freckles, I knew I wasn’t too awful to look at. But Kayleigh Anderson? She looked like a model, a flippin’ supermodel. Even wounded, growling deep in her throat, appearing feral with a bared-teeth grimace, and covered in a hospital gown. Actually, that might have been why she looked like a supermodel, given the weird aesthetic of fashion photography. Kayleigh Anderson: thin, toned, breasts I feared might not even be implants, wavy blonde hair that fell nearly to her waist, huge blue eyes murderous at the moment, perfect pouty rosebud lips, honey-colored tan. Oh yes, the exact California bikini beauty my mind associated with a name like Kayleigh. Plus she’d known my Mac. The inevitable questions rose to my mind. How well had they known each other? I ruthlessly stamped down the jealous beastie in my chest. Of all times. Focus, Julie.
Kayleigh lay on a mattress on the floor. In contrast to the rest of the house, this room was actually clean, mostly because of its Spartan nature. One white sheet covered the mattress and another bunched around Kayleigh’s feet. A hospital gown that incongruously sported a pattern of pastel polka dots covered her, barely. Her hands and feet were bound with duct tape threaded with silver chains. I saw the chains had left burn marks in several places—I’d have to find out more about inimical silver was to a Werewolf, in order to make sure Carson wasn’t over-exposed.
Carson.
I wrenched my mind back to the task at hand, needing all my attention on the present moment.
Kayleigh’s beautiful hair hung in lank tangles and her cheek marred by a large scratch, probably a gash at one point but now healing. Bruises covered her: cheekbone, both shins, collarbone. One of her wrists was completely yellow-green, still decorated with faint purple splotches. As Sheila had described, I saw bandages beneath her gown, jutting off her hip bones, her shoulder blades, her breastbone. The IV in her left arm attached to a bag dripped down from one of those metal IV-bag hangers just like in a
hospital.
She lay there, growling at the back of her throat, her eyes fixed on me and her hands and feet scrabbling futilely. I double checked the door behind me, making sure it closed tightly, and crossed to her.
Staying carefully out of reach, I set the black bag on the ground and hissed, “Kayleigh. Calm down, I’m with Sheila, the Witch from your dream, we’re here to rescue you.”
“Then get me the hell out of here,” she said in a sweet, breathy voice.
I stifled a hysterical laugh.
“We will, we will get you out of here.”
We hadn’t made enough plans; I didn’t know what to do. My attention had been so focused on getting into the house, on fooling the guards, on finding out how many people were there. Why hadn’t we figured out what to do if I’d actually reached Kayleigh, if I had a moment alone with her?
Making a split second decision, I unzipped Tim’s black bag and riffled through the items he’d given me. Getting tangled in the stupid cell phone charger aka stethoscope, I ripped it off my neck and threw it on the ground. Finally, I found the Swiss army knife. Trying to hurry, I sawed through the tape at Kayleigh’s wrists and unthreaded the silver chain, which I shoved in my pocket. When I finished, I handed her the knife and went to the window to plan our escape.
I didn’t realize the window was barred until then. What kind of house had a barred window? In what type of neighborhood did people not notice a bedroom with a barred window? I mean, yes, the window faced the backyard, peeking through other yards until the faint flash of the Fish Fry was just visible. And, yes, the bars were painted white. But, seriously. Bars on the window?
“Fuck!”
Kayleigh finished shaking and rubbing her wrists and now hacked at the duct tape wrapping her ankles. I noticed she took extra care not to touch the silver chain and I hurried over to help her again. I unwrapped the chain and fiddled with it in my hand as she ripped through the rest of the tape. She chafed her ankles, bending and flexing her feet, working the blood back through. I noticed she’d ripped quite a bit of skin off her ankles, but she barely seemed to notice.
Kayleigh reached up and pulled out her earrings. Oh. Massive silver earrings. Then, she gritted her teeth, grabbed the IV line entering her arm, and gave a hard tug. The IV needle came out, along with a substantial chunk of the flesh from her arm. A gobbet of flesh. Blood poured out of her left arm, but with a grim face, she merely used her right hand to hold it, tight. I imagined edgy fashion magazines lined up to capture the pictures of the gruesome scene.
“Holy crap,” I said.
“No big deal,” she said in her bubble-gum voice. “I healed around the needle. We do that. The bleeding will stop in a second as it knits back together. Especially now that I don’t have silver all over me.”
“Hey,” I said, as a thought occurred to me, “the guard said I should be careful not to wake him, somebody across the hall.”
“Yes, probably the Were, that Ken guy.” Kayleigh showed her teeth in something resembling a smile. “Don’t worry, I can take him.”
From the looks of her, she’d relish every minute of it, too.
“Well, there are at least four heavily armed thugs out there, too, so let’s try to get out of here without fighting the big bad Were?”
“Not so big, not so bad. Truly.”
“Uh, okay. I know you heal from bullet wounds pretty well, but me? I’d rather get the hell out of here.”
Kayleigh’s eyes widened in surprise, as if she’d forgot the weaknesses of mere humans.
“By the way, I’m Julie. Julie Hall.” It seemed ridiculous to hold out my hand for a shake, but I did it anyway.
“Mac’s girlfriend?” Kayleigh’s voice jumped another octave in surprise.
“Yes! You, you know about me?”
“Mac mentioned you last time we worked together, yeah.” She assessed me with a newly critical eye. “He didn’t tell me you were a superspy, though. I didn’t even know you were in this line of work.”
“I’m not. Or at least, I wasn’t until they killed him.”
“I see. Out for revenge? They’ll get theirs, Julie, never fear. If not this minute, then soon. Soon.” She gave a truly wicked grin I couldn’t help but return.
The smile froze on her face a second later, as she stiffened; her whole body at attention. “Someone’s here.”
“What?” I whispered.
“Someone just knocked at the front door.” Kayleigh cocked her head, looking for all the world like some sort of golden retriever.
Chapter Twenty-One
I jumped up and ran to the barred window, while Kayleigh paid careful attention to something only she could hear.
“Can you break these bars?” I hissed.
“I can try.” She took a step toward me before her eyes suddenly widened in alarm. “Shit, Julie, they’re coming—the guard said something about you.” She stood poised between the door and the window, not able to fully commit to either path.
“Who is it? Who is it?”
I heard the pounding of footsteps on the stairs and I took another step backward, my spine pressing against the wall beside the window.
Fuck.
As another thought crossed my mind, I randomly grabbed the IV pole, swung it, and smashed it into the window. Glass shattered and I yelled, “Eliza! Eliza!”
Only seconds later, the door burst open and everything happened at once. Steroid-Man and two of the other thugs burst into the room, with another man behind them, this one not built in the thug mode, but appeared absurdly like a preppy outdoors model. Then I saw a blur of tawny fur and realized Kayleigh had shifted. The wolf flew at the throat of Steroid-Man who fired a hasty shot that cracked into the ceiling. A blur of motion. I dove for the floor, rolling next to the closet, and flung open the door, hoping it would provide a modicum of cover. I didn’t go so far as to crawl into the closet, mostly because I didn’t think I could live with myself if my friends got hurt while I curled in a ball on the floor of a closet. Mostly covered by the door, I peered into the room.
It felt like watching a badly cut action movie; I only absorbed quick images. Kayleigh shook her head, blood flying from her tawny muzzle; Steroid-Man staggered backward, his hands flying to his neck; the reflection off a gun held by my sandy-haired thug admirer, whose eyes narrowed as he searched for a shot. Then I heard a groan from the window and the white-painted bars flew through the room, hit one of the guards in the midsection and sent him flying into the hall. Eliza jumped into the room, her buff-fur standing on end. I only briefly saw her before I lost track of her, my gaze sliding away from her like oil as she pulled on the shadows in the room to conceal herself. Another wolf entered the room and I had time to wonder, Tim? Ken? before the wolf sprang at Kayleigh and the two tumbled into a whirl of fur and growls of rage.
Suddenly, I remembered I, too, had a gun and fumbled desperately at the back of my jeans where I’d stuck it, thinking it looked too obvious in my jacket pocket. I had a hard time grasping it and then realized my fist was still clenched around the silver chains from Kayleigh’s ankles. I shoved them in my pocket with the others and finally pulled out the gun. I pointed it at the door, hoping I could hit one of the other guards, held my breath, and squeezed the trigger.
Then I removed the safety and raised the gun again.
Dammit, what if I hit Eliza? Where was she? I hesitated.
Through the chaos of the room, I heard a crash from downstairs. Kayleigh and the gray wolf combatted in the middle of the room, though Kayleigh’s teeth were closed around the other wolf’s neck and he was keening. Both wolves were flung about by the wild movements of the enemy wolf I assumed was Ken/Taylor Dunn. Steroid-Man appeared dead, judging from the condition of his throat. The remaining guard tried to find a clear shot at Kayleigh. Then, he was knocked off his feet by a blur of teeth and fur, as Eliza dropped her cover and rushed past him. She crashed into the man I’d seen arrive behind the guards. That man thumped to the floor so hard I heard his
head hit, despite the ugly blue carpet. Eliza crouched at his throat with a growl that raised the hackles on my neck. And I wasn’t a wolf. I didn’t even have hackles. Her threat rumbled through the room.
Everyone froze.
The man, the one resembling a wholesome model, said quietly, “If you harm me, you’re dead.”
Insane laughter bubbled up in my throat, and I swallowed it down.
“You, put your gun down,” Tim said from the hallway. His gun was trained on the sole standing guard who, in turn, lowered his weapon slowly. “Kick it here.”
The guard complied and put his hands on his head. His face revealed no emotion, and I didn’t want to be near him when he reclaimed his gun, that was for sure.
“You.” Tim swiveled to face the stand-off between the two wolves. The Ken/Taylor Were lay on his back, with Kayleigh poised above his jugular. “Change.”
A long pause ensued before the wolf-form writhed into the shape of a man. A slower transformation than I’d seen from any of our Weres, almost as if every step had to be conceived separately. Certainly nothing like Eliza’s fluid shifts. I watched as his form lengthened, twisted, and became that of a blond, bearded man. Sweat poured down his face, joining blood from bites on his shoulder and arm. One of his legs was curled strangely.
“Kayleigh.” Tim’s voice held a note of warning and the trembling wolf whined softly. She took a half step away from the man, but then, with a sudden lunge, she flung herself on him with a snarl. Before any of us could react, she tore his throat out with one white flash of her teeth.
Blood poured out of the body, which arched once before collapsing.
Kayleigh savaged his body, snapping and tearing at his flesh until he was unrecognizable. Finally, she pulled away from him and sat back on her haunches.
As she relaxed, our shock released the rest of us. The guard sank down on his knees and crawled backward as far as possible from Kayleigh’s blood-covered form. The oh-so-composed preppy model type turned an awful gray color as he stared at Eliza’s fangs so close to his own vulnerable neck. Eliza seemed to draw back slightly as if to make sure she wasn’t also tempted to some act of carnage, though she didn’t ease her guard on the man. The only one who seemed relatively nonplussed was Tim. His mild face stoic, neither his attention nor the point of his gun ever wavered.
Dark Moon Wolf Page 20