Moonshifted (34 page)

“Sorry, lady, but I can’t have you interfere.” He stepped in front of the MRI.

I backed up again, shoving Gideon behind me. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said, trying to look as helpless as possible.

“Why? How are you going to stop me?” He gave me an amused look.

“Because I know something you don’t.”

“Really?” He laughed. “Lady, I have lived for a long, long time. I survived smallpox and the black plague. I won’t be dying here.” Then all his humor faded, and his eyes focused on me. “But you will.” Gideon leaned forward in warning against my back.

I pulled a trank dart out of my pocket and threw it at him. It raced toward him like a javelin, seeking to mate with the superpowered magnet on his far side. Picking up speed, it punctured him, making a clean hole at the level of his heart. It tinged cheerfully when it hit the MRI.

He appeared aghast, and then he crumpled, joining his own cigarette ash on the floor. I stepped forward to stomp on the pile of dust. “Oh yeah? The MRI is always fucking on, asshole.” I ran back and grabbed Gideon’s arm. Together we hobbled back the way we’d come into the room.

*   *   *

We got to the end of the hall and came up the stairs to the ground floor. Three more hallways down and we found ourselves at the transfusion lab’s back door. I waved Meaty’s badge around in front of the access panel, but the lock didn’t click. Gideon shoved me aside.

“Edie?”

I turned back and Sike was racing down the hall. “Edie!”

“Shhhh!”

“I came as soon as you texted. What the hell is going on? It’s full of weres outside.”

“They’re after the—” I began, and stopped. Would she help me, or hinder me, in what I was about to do next? I wouldn’t know till I knew. The door unlocked for Gideon, and I opened it. “Just come inside with me.”

I closed the door behind us, and Gideon set to locking it again. The entire room thrummed with electricity—power running to refrigerators, microscopes, testing equipment—things that a hospital always needed to be on. County was a twenty-four-hour operation. Now it was like a science lab in a ghost town, empty and eerily still except for the were-shadows running back and forth outside. The far wall of the room was lined in skinny 1960s wire-glass windows. Past that, they were protected by metal bars.

“What is this place?” Sike asked, wandering around.

I took Meaty’s keys out of my pocket. “You’ll see.” I skirted the edges of the room, looking for a locked fridge that my keys would open—and found it.

Small, squat—it could have been a medication fridge on any floor. But my key fit in its lock, and inside it was stacked high with small vials and bags of blood. Each one of them was stamped with the same stamp—
Y4
.

“This is your last chance to fix all this!” I shouted up at the ceiling and down to the crevices on the floor. If this had all been some shitty Shadow-test …

But nothing responded to me. “Okay then.” I started throwing the fridge’s contents into the sink, fistfuls of plastic at a time.

“Edie, no.” Sike caught the first bag I’d thrown before it hit the sink’s metal bowl. “I can’t condone this.”

“All those weres outside? They’ve all been drinking werewolf paw-print water for weeks. House Grey’s controlling them. They’re after this.” I shook one of the blood bags in Sike’s face.

There was the squeal of metal scraping cement outside, and then something—someone—hit the window with a
thump.
Then another
thump.
If it were a bigger window, if the outside of the building weren’t concrete—“They want the blood, Sike. We have to get rid of it. This is our only chance.”

She looked at the blood bag she’d caught. “How do you know House Grey’s behind this?”

“I killed one of them down the hall.”

Sike snorted. “That wasn’t smart of him then, was it?” She curled in her fingers until her nails pierced the blood bag like an overripe fruit, then wrung it out over the sink, making sluggish blood ooze out.

Up until that moment, there’d been a chance she’d have stopped me. Relief ran through my body in a wave, then another were banging on the window outside made me jump. I focused and tossed another blood bag to her. “I don’t think we have much time.”

CHAPTER FIFTY

The sink didn’t have a garbage disposal. But all sinks at hospitals had one thing in common underneath—industrial-strength cleaners and bleach.

The weres outside were pinging off the window like grasshoppers in July. I emptied out the entire fridge and tossed the small desks in the room till I found a pair of scissors. Then I pulled on gloves and started cutting the bottom ends of bags, while Sike popped off the plastic caps and poured the contents out. I turned the sink on as hot as it would go to denature proteins and started splashing in floor cleaner.

“Damn House Grey. This is a horrible waste.” She watched the blood swirl down the sink like Minnie watching the drain of my shower.

“Can’t be helped,” I said, handing her another bag. “This is the last one.” She flipped it over to look at it.

“It would be were-blood.” With a sigh, she ripped it open and squeezed the contents out.

I pulled off my gloves and threw them away. She washed her hands with the cleaner. The windows were vibrating percussively with each blow. I tried not to look at them there, slavering, smearing spit and blood on the barred windows.

“We can’t stay here,” Sike said. “Did you have another plan?”

“There’s an emergency exit through the accounting department, down to the loading docks.”

Sike inhaled deeply. “Let’s go.”

Gideon opened the back door for us, and we started running—or hobbling in my case—down the back halls.

I heard a skittering of claws on a tile floor. Sike heard it first. She flung her arm out, catching me in my side.

A wolf turned the corner and ran down the hall at us. Helen’s wolf, gray and blond, slowed.

“Helen—Viktor somehow—” But it wasn’t Viktor, never had been, all along. Viktor had tried to warn me. And I was wearing Jorgen’s blood—Jorgen, who had hit Winter with his truck. House Grey had gotten the werewolf paw-print water from somewhere. From … someone.

I stepped forward. “Helen—it’s not too late. You can stop this. Call those other weres off.”

Helen twisted her head to one side, as if to pity me, then started trotting forward again. Sike pulled me back again.

“Is there another way for you to go?” Sike asked me without taking her eyes off Helen.

“Sike, she’ll kill you.” Sike was only a daytimer, and Helen was a major wolf on a full-moon night.

“You’re just a human, Edie. I’ve got a chance. Take the gimp and go.”

“Sike—” I warned.

“Go!” Sike shoved me toward Gideon, sending me to my knees. Gideon caught me and picked me up as Sike blocked Helen’s path. “You know you want a fight, fucking were,” she taunted. Helen snarled. I got to my feet and looked back at her, one last time, red hair streaming down her back like arterial blood.

*   *   *

I ran as fast as I could through a bureaucratic maze, aided by Gideon and Meaty’s map. I shinned myself on copier trays, caught my hips on the edges of desks, bouncing down the accounts and billing floor like a pinball.

It didn’t matter what I hit or what hit me. I felt numb. Sike was gone. Meaty’s directions led me to the end of the accounting floor. I went into a file storage closet and found the shelves disturbed to reveal pieces of flooring pulled off and a hole underneath. I reached inside, felt metal, and undid a latch. I heard a howl behind me—I jumped into the space in the floor. I screamed as I fell and landed on cold cement, then scrambled out of the way just before Gideon climbed down behind me.

“About time you got here!” Rachel reached up, shut the trapdoor behind me, and spun a lock.

Gina put her rifle down to help me up. “It’s called a ladder, Edie.”

“You all were waiting?”

“Well, I figured on this particular night, a werewolf would have a problem opening the door.” Gina gave me a thumbs-up to demonstrate why. “Still bad up there?”

“From bad to worse.” I leaned on her. “Where’s Meaty?”

“Up ahead.”

My charge nurse stood at the end of the hall, where we quietly joined them. It got colder as we neared—I realized we were outside, or heading toward it. The loading docks. We were only safe as long as no one knew we were here.

Meaty shone a flashlight at the thing ahead of us—a glinting wall of ice. “Snowbank. Must not have gotten any deliveries for a few days.” Then the light was flashed at me. I threw up a hand to cover my eyes. “Edie—what happened?”

I felt my face crumple. I couldn’t say the words and not cry. “A friend of mine just died.”

Compassion flowed across my charge nurse’s face. “Oh, Edie. You should know by now that we can’t save everyone.” Meaty reached out, and I folded into Meaty’s huge chest and bawled like a child.

*   *   *

We huddled together. Meaty kindly held me till it reached that awkward stage, and I stepped away, but not too far, because it was cold and events were still frightening. Each breath I took fogged the air, made my bronchioles tight.

“We can’t stay here all night,” I said.

“Want to go back, nearer the angry werewolves?” Rachel said, her teeth chattering.

“I’ve got us covered. Just wait it out,” Gina said.

A paw clawed through the snow ahead of us. I ducked. Rachel and Meaty jumped, reaching for their rifles.

“No no no!” Gina said, stepping forward, waving their guns down. Another paw scissored through the compacted snow, and even colder air rushed in from beyond. She looked over her shoulder at me. “Edie—this is Brandon.”

The bear unearthed himself. Rachel and Meaty still had their guns ready, but lowered. Gina ran forward, and I lunged after her. I couldn’t take losing anyone else tonight—

The bear caught her, and she snuggled against his chest. His giant head came down and nuzzled the back of her neck, looking at the rest of us with intelligent eyes. Gina turned back to me, smiling.

“Just because he can’t text me back doesn’t mean he can’t read.” She patted her cell phone in her pocket.

“I guess he’s a Care Bear, after all,” I said.

She reached out and hit my arm, exactly where my shot had been.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Through a series of yes/no questions, Brandon convinced us we probably wouldn’t die once we emerged. We followed him out of the drift, and I realized why—he’d brought bear friends. Twenty full bears, different sizes and colors, but massive and shaggy in every way. They formed a diamond pattern around us and led us away from the loading docks and toward the front of the hospital.

I didn’t know where we’d go, or how we’d manage to fix things. The contingent of weres was still howling in the hospital behind us—I wondered if Jake was among their number, if the Shadows had stopped protecting him from his folly the second they left town. We headed for the tree line surrounding the visitor parking lot, and as we arrived a shadow separated itself from among their number.

“I had wondered if you’d survive this mess.” The voice came from a trench-coated, sickle-bearing vampire with a large bag at his feet—Dren. Almost a sight for sore eyes. Then I realized again that Sike was gone, and my chest got two sizes too small. He began walking toward us, dragging the bag behind him. “I heard it went well for the fearsome child. I believe I have something of interest for her.”

Brandon got up on his two hind legs and made a threatening noise.

“Shush, beast. My fight’s not with you.” Dren put his hand on his sickle’s holster and scanned around. Behind him the weres scented us—they began to turn away from the building and lope in our direction. A car pulled up and stopped in the lot beyond us, skidding in the snow.

“Are you with us or with them?” Meaty asked Dren.

“He’ll be with you, if he knows what’s good for him.” Anna stepped out of the car, then she looked to me. “I know about Sike.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

Grief washed over Anna’s face, then was quickly replaced by anger. “I should have made her a full vampire when I had the chance. Which wolf was it?”

The only reason she was asking, I knew, was so that she could kill it. And I didn’t care. “Helen—the matriarch. She’s yellow and gray.”

“And what has been the point of all this?” Anna threw her arm out at the carnage of the hospital behind us. Turning, I could see pinpricks of light growing bolder—the beginnings of fires.

“I believe I have someone who can answer that for you.” Dren kicked the bag he carried. “Anna, newly minted member of the Sanguine, meet an emissary from House Grey. He’s the one who gave blood to Winter the elder. His own blood, to be precise.”

I was glad to see that the drop of blood I’d given Dren had gone to good use.

“Took me a long time to find him without the use of a Hound.” Dren reached into the bag like he was producing a rabbit from a hat, and hauled out a suit-wearing man. Gray hair, gray glasses, gray suit, gray tie—he was the color of the sinking moon. “Luckily he was one of the ones who’s been running around controlling this were-mob.”

“Unhand me, you illegitimate beast,” the newcomer complained. Dren bent him over and kneed him in the chest, then shoved him to kneel on the ground.

“It’s rare to see one of you out at night. Or ever.” Anna wound her fingers in his short gray hair. “What was the point of this?”

“We play a larger game.”

“Fuck you. I lost a friend. Tell me truths now, or you’ll pay.”

“What can you do to me, little girl?”

“Unless you want to be nailed on my car’s hood when the sun next comes out—”

The gray vampire laughed. “When does the sun ever come out up here?”

“Dren, cut off his arm.”

“Whatever you say, lady Sanguine.” Without a second thought, Dren hauled out his sickle and snicked off the gray vampire’s arm at the shoulder. It turned to dust, and the fabric fell to the ground.

“I meant the other one,” Anna said. Dren moved and—over the side of the car, where there was a gap in the wall of bear-weres, a wolf leapt into our clearing, bowling Anna down.