by E. A. Copen
The light changed, and still we sat, staring each other down. Ed took longer than I expected to drop his gaze, ending the power struggle. “Yeah, I want things to go back the way they were. I miss playing fetch.”
I smiled and pressed my foot on the gas as the light turned yellow. “Once we close this case, I’ll get you one of those squeaky geese to fetch. Promise.”
“So, um, if I had questions about magick…”
“I thought Mara was teaching you?”
Ed shrugged. “Mara’s in a different league. Different abilities. She got me through the basics, but you saw. I’m still no good.”
“That comes with practice,” I said as I drove around the drop-off toward the parking lot. “And focus.”
“You don’t use a focus.”
I shrugged. “I don’t use a lot of magick that can be focused.”
There was one spell, one that I still didn’t know much about. Fire and shadow, Chanter had called it, which seemed descriptive enough. Calling up the black fire was dangerous. The last time I had to use it, the spell felt sentient. Hungry. That had scared me away from calling it up again unless I had no other choice. That didn’t mean I had the best control over it. Sometimes, that magick had a mind of its own that made it rise to the surface almost unbidden. Ever since I’d started sparring weekly with Creven, it had been less of a problem. If I didn’t feel it lurking there, underneath the surface every time my emotions ran high, I would have said I had it under complete control. Maybe a good focus object would help.
“I could use a wand,” Ed said, excitement in his voice. “How awesome would that be? It’s like built-in cosplay. I already have my Hufflepuff scarf and everything. I wonder if I could get some yew? That’d be freaking sweet.”
“This is Texas,” I reminded Ed as I pulled into one of the few empty parking spaces.
“If you can find wendigos and ice giants, I can find some yew. It’s called Amazon Prime, Judah. You should join this decade and try it. Two words, Judah. ‘Two-day shipping.’”
“That’s three words.”
Ed held up two fingers. “Two. It’s hyphenated.”
Inside, we inquired at the information desk about Sal. I expected them to be reluctant to tell us, but the nurse at triage looked relieved. “Oh, Lord, if you ain’t a sight for sore eyes, honey.”
“Has he been a problem?”
I knew Sal didn’t like hospitals or enclosed spaces, but I didn’t expect him to throw a fit or anything. That wasn’t like him.
The nurse shook her head. “It’s the little guy who came in shortly after. Shooed everyone out and ordered a few of the nurses around like he owns the place.”
“Little guy? Glasses? About so high?” I held my hand out flat just a few inches above my head.
“He looked a little taller with the afro, but yeah.”
She meant Doctor Ramis, the clinician Tindall had called in from Paint Rock. Doc wasn’t employed by the hospital and tended to be high strung, but he was the best of the best when it came to supernatural medicine. He was also the only doctor Sal would ever trust.
I thanked the nurse and stepped toward the entrance to the emergency department.
“He’s in room five,” she called after me.
Ed fell in line right behind me when we pushed through the double doors. Several doctors cast curious glances in our direction until I asked for directions to room five. Then, they seemed to get it and did all they could to get out of our way.
The door to room five was open, but only by a crack. I pushed it open the rest of the way against a loud hiss of pain from Sal. He lay on a hospital bed with a pile of bloody dressings beside him. Doc Ramis had the nozzle of a bottle pressed into the wound, presumably a saline solution to clean it out. The water washed out a deep pink and splashed into a plastic tub under Sal’s arm.
“Complain all you want,” Doc said, his forehead wrinkling in concentration. “It could have been a lot worse if these second-rate hacks would have gotten ahold of you. They’d have used silver to stitch you up.”
Sal grimaced again and turned away.
“What’s the prognosis, Doc?” I asked from the doorway.
“It doesn’t look like the blade was coated in a physical substance, meaning whatever’s keeping him from healing falls on the magick side of things.” He withdrew the saline bottle and opened another package of sterile gauze, pressing it against the wound. “Hold this.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t know the first thing about what Reed does with his sword to keep it battle-ready,” I said, trying not to notice how pale Sal was. “Will he heal now?”
Doc’s hair wobbled as he shook his head. “I doubt it. At least, not at an accelerated rate. I’m going to stitch it back together and check on it tomorrow when you two bring Mia in for her check-up. See what eight hours of rest can do.” He raised his eyes to Sal’s face and then added firmly, “And I mean rest, Sal. No heavy lifting, no shifting, nothing. These are regular stitches I’m putting in you, and if you tear them, the damage is going to get worse.”
Sal shook his head. “I’m not going to sit on my ass for a day, Doc. I can’t. I got Mia to think of.”
“Unless you want Mia to find her daddy bleeding to death, you’ll listen to me.” Sal growled at Doc, who leaned back and sighed. “It’s for your own good. Now, I need you to hold very still.”
Ed slid past me and knelt at the end of the bed with his back to the wall. Plastic rustled as Doc fought to open more containers containing sterile forceps and other equipment I didn’t know the name for. As soon as he brought out the needle with the attached thread, my stomach turned. I suddenly wished I’d gone home with Mia.
Doc bent over Sal, his body blocking my view of his work. Sal sucked in a deep breath and ground his teeth. His fingers tightened on the edges of the bed. Beside me, Ed made a small sound and leaned forward. I didn’t have to look at anyone’s aura to know it was because Sal was drawing strength from the pack bonds. Ed, being in closest proximity, would have felt the brunt of it, but everyone in the pack likely knew something was wrong. I was surprised I hadn’t gotten a phone call yet. Then I remembered Ed had destroyed my phone. If anyone had tried to call, they were probably in a panic. No one outside of Ed knew that Sal was safe and alive.
“I should call someone,” I said out loud. “The pack needs to know that you’re okay.” I took a half-step toward the door but hesitated when I realized I didn’t know who to call. It should be Sal’s second, but whether that was Shauna or Valentino wasn’t immediately clear to me. I knew Sal trusted Shauna more, especially since Valentino had challenged him for the position of alpha, but I didn’t know if she was officially his second. If I called the wrong one, there was sure to be hurt feelings somewhere. Werewolves with bruised egos tended to lash out violently.
Sal must have sensed my uncertainty. “Call Shauna.”
I nodded and stepped out of the room. Relief washed over me as soon as I was back in the hall, and the tension shifted. My head felt clearer with the change of venue, but I still needed coffee if I was going to make it through the night. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I shuffled back out to the waiting room and to an alcove on the far side lined with vending machines and payphones. Graffiti marked the wall next to the phones, which probably didn’t see much use in an age dominated by cell phones.
My first stop was at the coffee machine, where I collected a cup of filmy-looking weak black coffee. To replace the dinner I’d missed, I grabbed a package of fish-shaped cheese crackers out of the machine next to it and then dropped my remaining quarters in the nearest payphone. I didn’t know every pack member’s phone number by heart, but I did know Shauna’s because it was also Daphne’s and Ed’s. I grimaced at the sticky feeling of the number keys on the payphone as I pressed them.
Shauna picked up on the second ring. “Who is this?”
“Nice to hear from you, too,” I answered.
“Judah? Where’s Sal? What’s happening?”
<
br /> “He’s going to be fine.” That was the most important part, so I made sure I got it out first. “He’s at the hospital in Eden. Doctor Ramis and Ed are with him. He just needs a little patching up and—”
She cut me off. “Was it silver?”
“No, but I think there was magick involved. He got a good slice from Father Reed’s sword.”
I explained vaguely what had happened, doing my best to relay the information in a neutral tone. Werewolves hate talking on the phone or via the internet because they find it difficult to judge emotion and intent. At a distance, they relied heavily on voice inflection and intonation to provide clues. Basically, the phone robbed Shauna of her heightened senses, so I was afraid she’d misread my explanation and blame me.
When I was done, Shauna asked in a terse tone, “Do you need me to come down there?”
“Ed is here,” I repeated. “And they’ll release him anytime now. There’s no reason for anybody to do anything. I just wanted to make sure everyone knew we were okay.”
There was a muffled sound as if someone in another room had shouted something. Shauna sighed. “Daphne wants to know if Ed is okay.”
I glanced around and then leaned further into the phone. “Physically, he’s fine. But emotionally, he’s pretty torn up about Mara breaking up with him.” I debated asking her if she knew Ed had been toying around with magick but decided against it. Until I knew more, I didn’t want wild rumors to spread.
“First ones are always tough,” Shauna commented. “If it were me, I’d just go out, kill a few goats, and be done with it. Ed probably just needs to drown himself in video games for a while in his nerd cave. He’ll be fine.” She hesitated. “Why did you call me and not Valentino?”
“Sal told me to call you.”
The other end was silent for a long time.
“Shauna?”
“I’m here,” she said, her voice strained. “I’ll fill in Valentino and the rest. You make sure he gets back in one piece.” She hung up without saying goodbye.
A short while later, I collected Sal from Doc after promising to do my best to get him to behave again. Sal insisted on walking on his own, despite Doc’s worries over his dizziness. Ed came around to stand on Sal’s right while I flanked him on the left all the way out to the parking lot. Rather than leave Sal standing there with only Ed to support him while he swayed on his feet, I paid the valet five bucks to go and retrieve my car.
While we stood, waiting under the buzzing entrance sign, Ed asked, “So, what’s your next move?”
“First, I buy a new cell phone.” I gave him a scolding look and finished with a smile. “And look into finding someone to help you.”
Ed drew his eyebrows together. “I mean, Mara. Do you really think she’s there by choice?”
I shrugged. “She seemed better, Ed. Better than I’d seen her in a long time. I was right there. She could’ve left if she wanted.”
“Maybe she couldn’t talk freely, or they’re blackmailing her to stay. She might have to stay or else they’ll hunt her down.”
“Find Reed,” Sal said. He shifted backward and I thought he was falling, but he stopped when his back hit the wall and grunted. “Find him and get some answers. He and Mara are connected somehow, and Reed was not himself. It was like he was under a compulsion.”
“Maybe Mara is too,” Ed said, hope surging in his voice. “Judah, you have to acknowledge she’d never join a cult by choice.”
“Your focus has to be on finding Reed,” Sal continued. “Without him, there are no answers, and you can’t help Mara.”
I shook my head and helped Sal away from the wall so we could inch toward the parking lot. “To do a proper tracking spell, I need biological material, and to get that, I need to get into Reed’s house unless he just happened to have some lying around the church. That’s not going to happen without a warrant. Given that he’s now a suspect, I should be able to secure one, but not until tomorrow morning.”
Ed turned to face me. “What about the rem? You said the compound had greenhouses, right? That’s probable cause.”
“Not until I can corroborate your testimony. No offense, Ed, but you’re not the most reliable witness. I need to do this the right way. We’re not vigilantes.”
Ed narrowed his eyes at me. Or, maybe it was against the headlights of my car as it drove up.
The valet got out and opened the passenger door and Sal sat down, wincing. He didn’t like it much, but I had to help him buckle in so that he didn’t twist in his seat. It was as I was fumbling with the buckle that I realized I had a problem. My car only had two seats and Ed still needed to get home.
I turned back to offer to call a cab for Ed, but he was already storming away, head down, hands in his pockets. “Ed,” I called and took a few steps down the sidewalk after him. “Where are you going?”
“To see about that yew,” he called back and waved as he rounded the corner. He didn’t sound like he was going to go get into trouble. Maybe that was why I worried.
“Should I stop him?” I asked Sal through the open door.
Sal shifted in his seat and closed his eyes. “If it were you behind enemy lines, do you think I’d go home and wait until tomorrow?”
“Shit.”
I rushed around to the driver’s side, got in, and tore out of the emergency room lot. I brought the car around the corner of the building and slowed. It had only been a few minutes, so he couldn’t have gotten far.
About five yards down the sidewalk, I spotted something and stopped the car to get out and confirm that it was indeed Ed’s discarded pair of sweatpants. I squinted against the darkness, searching the hospital grounds for any sign of him, but came up empty. Ed was in the wind.
Chapter Six
There was nothing I could do to find him in the dark. Sal might have been able to help if he wasn’t injured and on pain meds, but the best thing for him would be to take him home. I was too tired to drop him off and go driving around the desert in search of a werewolf. Time in the ER had eaten away the night, and by the time I made it back to the reservation, it was almost morning, closing in on the time I’d promised to relieve Bran.
I paused at the border crossing and glanced up at the razor wire-topped towers of concrete, waiting for someone to come down and raise the mechanical arm so I could drive through. It used to be, there were only two night watchmen on the walls, but ever since the drive-by nine months ago, the feds had stepped up their presence in the area. I counted two armed guards and one new camera as I waited.
After a long moment, the guard leaned out from his post and waved at me. The mechanical arm lifted, and I drove through. Dark windows, dead, empty yards, and deep shadows met me on the reservation. The rez had no real sense of organization with doublewides and cottages sitting right next to each other. Half of the trailers weren’t even facing the same direction, the dirt paths and many of the roads put in as afterthoughts. Some folks had tried to brighten the place with rock gardens or painted fences, but the red Texas dust had rolled over the town in the drought and turned everything a copper shade of brown. Gnats swirled in the sickly yellow light of the reservation’s lone streetlight.
I rolled down the window and turned up the radio as Queen asked the important questions on my radio. Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Man, they were deep. Freddy Mercury was just hitting the high notes of the song when I pulled over alongside a weather-beaten white mailbox to retrieve my mail.
Technically, I lived in the house next door to Sal. Mine was one of the few houses on the reservation with an actual foundation, even if it was mostly made of chipboard and plaster. Last year, some vandals broke in and wrecked the place. The pack had pitched in to help me get it cleaned up.
I never really went back after that, partly because I’d already moved in with Sal. Considering he’d suddenly had to take on raising a daughter he’d only recently found out he had, it worked out. The man needed all the help he could get and Hunter needed close g
uidance from a male role model. I maintained a skeleton presence at my house, just in case things didn’t work out, but I only went inside once or twice a week when I needed quiet to work.
With four of us in a three-bedroom trailer, space was tight but comfortable. We almost felt like a family. A weird family sewn together from all kinds of different scraps of lives, but a family nonetheless. After sorting through the mail, I drove over and parked beside instead of behind Sal’s truck so Bran could get his bike out and shut off my car.
Sal had dozed off but woke as soon as the engine died. I reached over and hit the release for his seatbelt before he could fumble with it. He was tired and sore enough he didn’t protest, not even when I helped him out of the car and up the stairs.
I expected Bran would still be snoozing on the sofa when we came through the door, but he wasn’t. He stood in the kitchen, staring into the glow of the microwave while a breakfast burrito spun inside. I wouldn’t have called the green uniform on him flattering, or maybe it was just how exhausted he looked. I scrutinized him for a second and realized the green hair was gone, too. “What happened to your green hair?”
“A little Just for Men goes a long way, Mrs. BSI,” he answered and patted the coffee pot. “Refilled it to be ready when you are, although you look like you could use some rest.”
“I just need a power nap.” I waved at him as Sal and I slid through the kitchen toward his bedroom. “This guy needs to take it easy, though. Doc’s orders.”
After dropping Sal off in the bed, I came back out to thank Bran and asked him if Mia went down okay.