by E. A. Copen
It felt like I was moving in slow motion as I turned and reached for Hunter. Chanter got to him first. He grabbed my son by the arm and pulled him close, throwing himself between Hunter and the open air between the gunmen and us. That move was the only thing that saved him. Bullets thumped into Chanter’s back and rained down around me. Something stung the outside of my outstretched arm, but I knew I wasn’t hit.
The assault lasted three, maybe four seconds before tires squealed and the van sped off down Highway 87 at full speed.
I screamed Hunter’s name and knelt frantically in the expanding pool of blood at my feet. Chanter was a mess, with blood spreading out from three different holes in the back of his jacket. That wasn’t the worst of it. He had been hit in the back of the head. When I put a hand on his shoulder to shift him and check on Hunter, he didn’t respond. Hunter made a choking, gasping sound, and blood dripped from his bottom lip.
Behind me, two motorcycles grumbled to life. Bran roared out of the parking lot on his bike after the van. The anguished cries of other parents and the shrill shrieks of children filled the block. Somewhere distant, a siren cried.
Chapter Eighteen
The next few hours were the worst in my life. Three ambulances arrived to set up triage. Later, I would learn that three people were pronounced dead at the scene, two of them children. At the moment, I was too absorbed in getting Hunter help to notice.
They took us back to the hospital in Eden and rushed Hunter into emergency surgery. All the wires and tubes coming out of my boy as they took him away from me made him look like he was more mechanical than human. I remember that much. I also remember standing outside the magnetically locked double doors going back to surgery and pounding on the doors. I didn’t want them to take him from me without letting me tell him I loved him. I might never see him again.
Security came and escorted me to registration, where I had to shuffle numbly through pages and pages of insurance paperwork and pre-authorization forms. Words and phrases like “advance directive,” “DNR,” “next of kin,” and “organ donation” floated in front of me in meaningless order. I signed beside the X. The police came. I gave a statement. They went away.
I sat alone in the waiting room with no answers.
“Judah?”
I picked my head up out of my hands long enough to see Daphne standing there. Her normally pink cheeks were pale, her sure steps shaky as she came closer.
“Chanter is in surgery,” I told her. I’d had enough mind to inquire about him, at least. He was somehow still alive when EMS showed up, despite the bullet in his head. I held onto the hope that the shooters hadn’t used silver bullets.
She sank down into the chair beside me and pulled me into a hug. Her sobbing shook my whole body. I couldn’t help but shed a few tears in return.
The rest of the pack filed in shortly afterward. Shauna came wearing a mask of pale worry and sat far off from the rest. Ed just looked dazed. Nina burst in, already in the process of falling apart. She hadn’t even bothered to put on makeup. Valentino came hand in hand with Leo, who sniffled and toddled along beside his dad, staring at the floor. Within a half-hour of Daphne’s arrival, everyone but Sal was sitting in the surgery waiting room.
Another of the Kings I didn’t know slid in with Flash on his heels and stood by the door. Phil, I thought his name was, but I couldn’t be sure. He spoke quietly into his cell and paced back and forth. I couldn’t make out the specifics of what he was saying, but it sounded like an argument.
Flash removed his hat and approached where I was sitting at the edge of a circle of werewolves. Valentino growled at him when he got too close, and Flash dropped his head. “Judah,” he said sheepishly, “Istaqua wanted me to tell you he and Bran are tracking the van.” He meant it to be reassuring, that they were looking for the people responsible. As if I could think about vengeance while my little boy was fighting for his life.
“You tell your prez I want to know when they find the fuckers who did this,” Valentino snapped. “He doesn’t get to keep them to himself this time.”
Flash nodded. “I’ll pass it along.” He looked back at me. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes and tried to contain the rage quaking through my body. “If I find out this had anything to do with the Kings…”
“We’re going to do all we can to make it right.” Flash nodded and made a quick retreat.
There was a loud crash in the hall, and everyone’s attention snapped to the door as Sal came barreling through it, half-dressed, wild-eyed, and wearing a scowl. He still looked pretty banged up from the night before, but he barely seemed to notice. “What happened?”
Valentino’s hand came down hard on Sal’s shoulder. A moment of panic worked through me. With the mood Sal was in and the heavy scent of anger, fear and worry in the room, I knew he wouldn’t react well to being touched. He spun, snarling at Valentino, and tried to throw a punch. Valentino blocked it as if it were nothing and gave a growl back that made the whole room vibrate. Beside me, Ed let out a low whine and sank down almost flat on the floor. Every head in the room lowered except for Sal and Valentino’s.
“Why don’t we step out and talk?” Valentino was very careful to phrase it as a request and not an order.
From Sal’s posture, he didn’t like it, but he went. The two of them stepped out into the hallway and closed the doors to the waiting room behind them.
Nina’s eyes met mine. Her brown eyes were red and puffy, her beautiful face pale and splotchy. Other than grief, I couldn’t read anything else on her face.
I don’t know where Valentino and Sal went, but they didn’t come back for a very long time. The next time the door opened, a doctor in bright blue scrubs came through with one of those paper head wraps on. He paused in the doorway as the werewolves turned to regard him, hope and interest in their eyes.
“Mrs. Black?” he said, wiping his hands on a paper towel.
“Miss,” I corrected and stood to navigate past the pack and meet the doctor. “How is he?”
“I’m Doctor Alberts, one of the pediatric surgeons here. First, let me say Hunter is out of surgery and has been moved to recovery.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “When can I see him?”
The doctor pressed his lips together as if he were thinking hard. “Ms. Black, when was the last time Hunter was swabbed for the presence of any…supernatural genetic mutations?”
I froze. My whole body felt cold. Hunter had undergone the test at the beginning of the school year, and every year before that. We’d always lucked out and he came up negative, even though both of us knew he was a werewolf. I had hoped that Hunter was one of the rare two percent of people that the test couldn’t read properly. Maybe the school just wasn’t administering it the right way. If a positive test got back to BSI, they would take my son away from me.
It was standard procedure to rehome a child with a positive test if one or both parents didn’t share the same mutation. The literature said it was so that kids could be placed with mentors, people who knew and understood their condition and could teach them. I could petition and file objections, but in the end, BSI would win out. They always did.
“Why?” I asked and then quickly added, “He had one done when school started. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
The doctor sighed and folded his hands. “Well, he was lucky. The bullet that struck him passed into his abdominal cavity. The accelerated rate at which he’s healing caused some complications in surgery. By the time we got him on the table, Hunter was already healing. We opened him with normal surgical tools and had a lot of trouble before switching over to the silver-plated tools. Unfortunately, the silver instruments halted all the healing. In fact, we saw a slight reversal.”
I shook my head. “What does that mean?”
“There were other, smaller injuries. By themselves, not fatal, since the bullets first passed through one of the other victims and slowed just enough to keep from doi
ng any serious damage. But the bullets were silver, and Hunter’s had a severe reaction. We’ve done what we can to stabilize him, and I’m starting him on a round of intravenous corticosteroids, but there’s a chance we could see some necrosis—”
“What are you saying?” I said, sinking into a chair. “Is he okay, or isn’t he?”
The doctor gave a hesitant smile. “I think he’s mostly out of the woods, thanks to the man who stepped in to intervene. Given time, he’ll heal most of the damage on his own. However, there’s likely to be some scarring from the silver.”
The automatic glass doors to the waiting area opened and Sal stepped in. The doctor glanced at him and stood before saying, “He’s in recovery. It might be an hour or more before you can see him. I’ll let you know as soon as you can.”
The doctor wasn’t two feet away before Sal swooped in to give me a hug, practically knocking the doctor aside. I almost suffocated in the tight embrace, but even that was comforting. He almost seemed back to his old self. “Any news?” he asked Nina behind me.
Nina must have shaken her head because Sal nodded and pulled me back. I couldn’t meet his eyes. All I could think about was the mess Chanter’s body had been when I last saw it. I looked down at my clothes and realized they were bloodstained.
“He took one in the back of the head,” Valentino said in a quiet but firm voice from behind Sal. “Doc just said it was silver. We all know what that means.” He raised his voice and turned to address the others.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Sal answered, the muscles of his shoulders growing tense.
Valentino’s face hardened. “We all know he’s not coming back from it, Sal.”
Nina fell forward to sob into her hands at her husband’s words.
“We’re going to have to make some decisions,” Valentino said. “Decisions about what comes next.”
“You’re talking like he’s already dead, Val!”
“Can’t you feel him slipping?” Valentino shook his head.
Nina sobbed louder through her hands. Daphne patted her back and placed her head on her shoulder. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
Valentino looked from Nina to Sal, and I saw something subtle change in his face. “This is because of that shit with the Vanguard, isn’t it?”
I stepped away from Sal, moving between him and Valentino as they closed on each other. “Valentino, don’t.”
He didn’t pay me any mind. I might as well have not been there at all. Shauna jumped up from her place on the other side of the room and let out a low rumbling growl.
“If it weren’t for your stupid club, Chanter and Hunter would be fine,” Valentino said. “It’s always been them first and us second, hasn’t it?”
“Are you calling my loyalty into question?” Sal growled back. “You of all people?”
“Damn right, I am. You can’t lead, not with your head so far up Istaqua’s ass. Any wolf who bows to that coyote shifter isn’t fit to be my alpha.”
“Valentino,” I snapped and pushed him back. “This isn’t the place or time for that!”
“Gotta do what’s best for the pack,” Valentino said.
Sal showed his teeth and growled, “Name the time and place. We’ll see who’s fit.”
“Chanter’s place. Dusk.” He turned his head. “Ed, you’re my second.”
Ed tucked his head between his shoulders and said in a small voice, “Me?”
“I’ll be his second,” Shauna volunteered, crossing the room to stand beside Sal. She looked up at him. “If you’ll have me?”
“It’s done,” Sal spat. “I’ll see you at dusk.”
“Excuse me.”
Sal turned and shouted, “What?” right into the doctor’s face.
The doctor didn’t so much as flinch. He must have been used to being snapped at by angry werewolves. “My name is Doctor Alvarez. I’m here to see the family of Chanter Silvermoon.”
Valentino shouldered his way forward to stand next to Sal. Nina pushed between them, chewing on her manicured fingernails. Valentino put his arm around her and squeezed. “Everyone in this room is family. You got something to say, you say it to all of us.”
I took in a deep breath, reached for Sal’s hand and squeezed. He didn’t squeeze back.
“I’m very sorry,” the doctor said. “But the damage was extensive, and even with his accelerated healing, the advanced stage cancer meant his body was unable to compensate even with the best care. He passed away a short while ago.”
Nina would have collapsed if Valentino hadn’t grabbed her and buried her head against him. She beat her hands against his chest and screamed into him. Behind us, Daphne sobbed loudly. Judging by the soft sniffling coming from Ed’s corner, he was crying, too.
A wave of cold passed over me, and I shook uncontrollably. Even though I hadn’t known Chanter as long as the rest of them, he was my friend. A mentor. The one person I could trust even in the darkest times. I thought I was prepared for him to go, but not like this. He deserved better. I put a hand over my face and choked on my own tears.
The doctor said more, but I didn’t hear anything but snippets over the crying and quiet howling of grief in the room. He spoke of arrangements. Viewing. Offered counseling. Referred us to a priest. Being next of kin, the primary responsibility fell to Nina. She and Valentino went with the surgeon to make arrangements.
The rest of us sat, either crying or in a chilly state of numb disbelief. He was really gone. How could that be true?
Sal threw out a fist and hit the doorframe with a loud bang that left a crack in the wall. “Fuck this,” he growled and then stormed out of the waiting room. When no one else moved, I went after him.
“Wait,” Shauna called to me, but I ignored her. I wasn’t about to let him grieve alone. Chanter had been the closest thing he had to a father.
Sal wasn’t running, but he had a long stride, especially when he was angry, so I had to run to catch him. It took me most of the hallway.
“Sal, would you stop and talk to me?”
He turned the corner and headed out of the emergency room.
I turned the same corner, planted my feet, and shouted, “Dammit, Sal, I need you. Hunter needs you, and they need you. And you need us. You don’t have to do this alone. If you walk away now, you’ll have lost more than just your fight with Valentino.”
The doors slid open, but Sal didn’t go through them. He stood under the flickering fluorescent light in the entryway while the triage nurse and several patients in the waiting room stared. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath before he turned slowly back around to face me standing on the other side of the entry. “I can’t do anything here.”
“Neither can I,” I held my hand out to him. “But I don’t want to be alone.”
Sal took another deep breath before stepping forward to grip my hand. His face still looked like stone. I wondered if it had even hit him yet. “We should find Istaqua,” he said.
My phone rang. Thinking it might be the doctor calling since I’d left the waiting room, I fumbled to answer and put it to my ear. “Yes?”
“Be in my office in ten minutes, Judah,” Marcus said, his voice sounding irritated, and he hung up.
I frowned at the phone and thought about calling him back and telling him to go stake himself. The vampire wouldn’t be sympathetic to what I was going through. I didn’t think he had a caring bone in his body and wouldn’t fake it unless it drew him a profit.
“Mind if I come with?” Sal offered. “I could really use the walk.”
I wanted someone to be there when Hunter woke up, but I wasn’t sure that should be Sal. And I didn’t want to leave Sal alone, not in the state that he was in. Eventually, it would hit him, and I didn’t want him to be alone when that happened.
Chanter. Gone. God, what would the world be like without him? There was an icy pang in my heart. I brushed away more tears, hoping Marcus had some work for me. I needed something to keep me busy or I m
ight fall apart, too.
“And I could use the company,” I said with a sigh. Sal took my hand again and gave it a weak squeeze. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.
Chapter Nineteen
Fitz Pharmaceuticals, Marcus’ company, was connected to the hospital via an underground walkway. Convenient, if you think about it. Probably borderline scary, too. Fitz was a drug lab that specialized in supernatural testing, supplies, and adaptive equipment. The fact that it was connected to the world’s premier supernatural hospital, and that Fitz’s CEO was one of the private hospital’s largest donors, that wasn’t shady at all.
Sal put an arm around me and walked with me like that all the way to and through the tunnel over to Fitz. It slowed the walk, making it take fifteen minutes instead of ten, but we both needed to hold each other up. After all the crying I’d done, I didn’t think I could have walked a straight line.
Cynthia looked up from her desk when we entered, eyes settling on Sal with a deeper than normal frown. “He’s waiting for you,” she said and then answered the ringing phone.
I pushed through the door and paused when I realized Marcus wasn’t alone. Istaqua was sitting in the chair in front of Marcus’ desk. He twisted to take Sal and me in before turning back around. Marcus waved us in. “You try my patience, Judah,” he said in an irritated tone. “In light of the circumstances, I’ll overlook your lateness, but don’t make it a habit. Come in and shut the door.”
I did as asked, but remained near the exit with Sal, crossing my arms. “What’s this about? I’d like to get back to my son.”
“This is about your son,” Istaqua said. “And Chanter. And if you’ve got half a brain in that thick head of yours, you’ll sit down and listen.”
“Do not speak the names of the dead,” Sal said, his growl vibrating the pens on Marcus’ desk.
Istaqua lowered his head. “So, he’s gone then.”