Sing for the Dead (London Undead) (3 page)

She said nothing, her beautiful face a frozen mask. Instead she pulled the wee man closer to her. Ah, the Fair Folk were proud creatures. He tried to remember what little his grandam had taught him before she’d passed. Human and superstitious, his grandam, she’d held to the old ways of leaving out a bit of milk and bread, some honey, for fairies. She’d told him stories of the wee fairies to make him chuckle and scarier tales of the larger fae, the ones who could feed on children. Fragmented and vague, human stories of the fae folk generally all had the same moral: avoid them whenever possible.

He’d have to work on remembering whatever else he could later. One thing was certain, it was important to know what kind of fae a man was dealing with if he had to. There were many kinds and each had their own peculiarities.

Kayden held out his hands, fingers spread, and stood tall. “I’ve no intention to hurt you, lass. As you can very well see, I’m unarmed.”

Her gaze flickered over him in a swift assessment and there he stood, naked as a babe.

“The dual-natured need no weapons, be they fae or mortal shape-shifters.” Ah, so she did speak, and with a hint of his own Scottish brogue. Not surprising, though his second guess would have been Irish. “And men do enough harm with their bare hands.”

She had a point there. “You’ll have trust me, then.” The old stories said a fae never broke his word, nor did he take another being’s word lightly. Still, Kayden ought to be clear about what he was saying. “I give you my word I mean you no harm. I only want to help you save the wee man there.”

He waited a heartbeat, two.

What was she? Dressed in dark browns and black, with her two swords and more knives in a shoulder harness. Her skin was the color of cream under honey, her eyes round and almost too large for her face. She had the look of the Fair Folk, that was certain. Her appearance matched more than a few of the descriptions in his grandam’s stories of various fae women and noA few of his grandam’s stories human had features so delicate.

Beautiful. Not only for her physical features, but also the air of lethal potential around her. She was a warrior, this one. Aye, and skilled, judging from the decomposing remains turning to dust around her. Women skilled in the art of combat were wonders in bed. His blood heated at the direction his thoughts wandered and he stifled it before things became more physically obvious. Pants would’ve been handy.

She sheathed her sword, finally, and gathered the wee man to her. As she stood, she lifted her chin. “Where are we going?”

“Follow me.” Another precious minute to shift once more. Since she was carrying the injured, he’d have to cover them both and he didn’t fancy defending them all unarmed and his cods bare to the breeze. The night air was still chill.

He halted his shift part way between man and beast. Fur kept him warm and claws tipped his fingers. His head was a meld of leopard and man, but he stood and strode forward on two feet. This phase-form was a compromise. Protect and still communicate.

“This way.” His voice came out deeper, almost strangled as his vocal chords strained for speech.

No fear from her, not in her scent and not in her steady heartbeat. She followed him, close but far enough behind to allow him space to fight if something should happen. She knew something of shifters, obviously.

He set a fast pace, one that would have been challenging for a human man, much less woman. Yet she had no trouble covering the ground, burdened as she was.

Speed, strength, stamina—all good qualities for fighting...and for other things. Exhilarated by their mission to save her companion, he tucked his more heated thoughts away. He allowed himself a grin though, because he always could appreciate a lovely woman even in the worst of circumstances. And this one, this lady, was worth appreciation.

The streets were nearly deserted. The moon had risen to its zenith in the dark sky and most clinics would have been closed.

Not this clinic, though. It had been open late nights since midwinter.

The human, Brian, had begun living out of his clinic rather than his flat once the werewolves had bought the building.

As they approached, the lass called out to him. “What is this place?”

“It’s become a sort of triage location for the local shape-shifters.” The sign still said veterinary clinic. “I’m guessing your friend would have too many questions to answer in a human emergency room. This place is safer for him and the doctor here has a steadier hand around the supernaturals.”

“Is he dual-natured?”

Coming from her, the phrase held a sophisticated lilt. Fancy that.
Dual-natured.
Shape-shifters didn’t often call themselves such but the label fit. Fae changed form as well—some of them. They changed or they used glamour to hide their true appearance. He’d encountered one or two of the lesser fae in his travels around Europe. He’d not ever run into the likes of this fae and his grandam’s stories were all he had to guess at what she was. Ah well, where his grandam’s stories fell short in the past, he’d relied on his wit to fill in the blanks and he’d do it again.

“Not a shape-shifter, no. Human.” And a good man, a gentle man. Kayden hoped he wasn’t bringing ill luck to Brian.

They’d cross that bridge when they came to it. A life hung in jeopardy. Kayden exchanged nods with a werewolf in human form, standing guard across the street. Then he pulled the door to the clinic open.

“Please enter.” He’d been there several times before to get a wound cleaned out after a fight. He guessed he had the right to invite a fae in and the fae were looser about their interpretations of an invitation in any case. Vampires had much more stringent requirements.

She raised an eyebrow in eloquent surprise as she stepped past him into the warmth of the clinic.

“Oy. Brian! Emergency!” Kayden gestured for her to continue through the waiting area and into an empty examination room.

She wasted no time easing her burden onto the hospital bed. Blood covered her entire front and she kept pressure on the side of the little man’s neck. He’d gone paler under his brown skin and his eyes barely fluttered in response to being laid down.

Quick footsteps came from upstairs. Brian ran in a few moments later, his sandy-brown hair standing on end in several different directions. They’d waken him right out of sleep.

Light sleeper for a human.

“What have we got?” Brian rolled up his sleeves, then began washing his hands in the room’s sink, all business and no wasting time.

“Well, and I don’t exactly know.” Kayden looked to his new...friend?

“My...companion is a brownie.” The woman made the statement in a quiet voice, wary.

Brian halted. “I’ve never treated one of the fae.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “But will you?”

Brian waved off the challenge. “Of course, I’ll try. Let me see his injuries.”

The woman turned to allow Brian to approach and inspect the wounds. The human was thorough, only touching the brownie as necessary, and with gentle hands. “I’ll need you to let off the pressure so I can see the extent of the wound on his neck.”

When she did, his brows drew together as he studied the damage.

“You’re doing something to slow the bleeding?”

She frowned, but gave him a slow nod. “I haven’t the power to stop it completely, only slow it.”

Brian moved swiftly around the room, gathering a tray with supplies. When he returned, he paused, hands hovering over his instruments. “Fae are sensitive to iron and some iron alloys, aren’t they? My needles might burn him. They’re made of surgical steel, but I have liquid sutures. I can close his wounds with those.”

“You hesitate.” The threat darkened the woman’s voice. She was damned suspicious.

Kayden tensed, ready to defend Brian if necessary. He’d brought the woman in an effort to help, but he wouldn’t allow her to harm an ally.

Brian only nodded to the woman, possibly oblivious to the danger. “Liquid sutures create a barrier, could make things worse if his wounds are contaminated. This is a zombie attack. Can fae be infected by the zombie virus? I don’t see the tissue death I normally observe with these kinds of wounds.”

She relaxed a fraction, giving the doctor space to work. “The fae cannot become zombies. Our magic can keep him free of contamination if you can close the wounds and stop the bleeding.”

Kayden let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The wee man had a chance. None of them had been certain until that moment. It was obvious in the fae woman’s posture, in the relief pouring off Brian.

He stepped out of the room to give them privacy, staying near in case the fae woman had another swing in mood. He’d have been willing to bet his trousers the woman was unpredictable.

Speaking of trousers...

He reached under the front desk and pulled out the extra clothes kept in a bin for the shape-shifters. The pullover and sweatpants weren’t his preferred clothing, but he could head back to where he’d stashed his clothes later. They were up a tree high enough to be out of reach of any looters. “Normally it’s me bringing in the strays.”

The gentle voice didn’t surprise him, though the tart bite to the words made him smile. He’d heard Maisie come in through the side entrance. “You spend a lot of time in the flats above this clinic, though you don’t live up there anymore.”

Maisie brandished a paintbrush. “Not too many contractors left in the city. Of those that are, none are interested in renovating apartments flooded by zombies just a few weeks ago. Afraid the blighted things will come back.”

A possibility. Which was why the clinic had a patrol of werewolves watching over it at every hour of the day and night. Especially since the alpha’s mate spent so much time on the premises.

“From what I heard of that attack, you held your own. Now? You’d be able to rip any zombie limb from limb.” He gave her a hug, sweeping her up, crutches and all, then setting her carefully back on her feet with enough time for her to get her crutches set to support her.

He’d been amazed to meet a werewolf with such a handicap. Her twisted leg was too far gone to hold her weight, but she needed titanium forearm crutches to withstand her superhuman strength. When he’d first met her, he’d been overcome with the urge to protect and shelter. Maisie’d wasted no time informing him she was well able to care for herself, thank you very much.

Seth was a lucky man to have such a mate.

“Hah. You’re only this cuddly when Seth isn’t here.”

“I’d hug you even if he was here.” Kayden grinned down at her. Such a tiny package of moxie, she was. “But then we’d have a tussle and you’d smack us both for being male.”

She huffed. “The man knows I’ve chosen him. No need to get on with the growling nonsense. ’Tis as if he thinks every male in the city is going to try to steal me away.”

“You’re one of a kind.” Kayden reached out and tapped her nose with a finger, yanking his hand back as she took a swipe at it. “I’ve not heard of many women resorting to shooting a man to save his life.”

She rolled her eyes. “Danny never will get tired of telling that story, will he?”

“Not likely.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Enough with old stories. What have you brought to our doorstep? I wanted to get a good look before Seth got here and got all protective on me.”

What indeed?

“New friends, I think.” Not enemies, at least. The brownie was no threat for certain and he’d only had a short time to assess the fae woman’s character but he was a good judge.

He’d better be. He always forgot how fast Maisie was on those crutches.

He only had enough time to dash down the hallway after her and slip into the treatment room as she came to a halt.

“Hello.” Maisie cocked her head as she studied the fae woman.

The sound of drawn steel rang through the room.

“Now that’s a bad idea in a treatment room.” Maisie had a .38 Super handgun out. Her crutches fell to the floor with a
clang
. “A better idea would be for you to put that away, and I’ll put this away and we’ll talk as if we weren’t dangerous people.”

Females. Was it any wonder males would rather throw themselves into the face of danger than deal with two strong women in a tiny room?

“The dual-natured carry weapons now?” The fae woman’s words were brittle with distrust, but there was hesitation too. She edged to the end of the hospital bed, clear of her brownie companion and Brian but not closer to Maisie.

Maisie’s hands remained steady, the gun never wavering. Everything about her body language projected wary readiness but her scent was spiced with a hint anger. “I’ve only recently made the Change. Old habits are hard to give up, especially the prudent ones. Besides, I can put a bullet in you faster than you can slice me.”

“I thought this was a place of healing.” The woman didn’t look at Kayden, but her tone made it clear she felt betrayed.

Kayden narrowed his eyes. Despite holding her swords at the ready, the woman was loose and her muscles appeared limber. She might not be able to cut Maisie first but she probably could dodge the bullet and close the distance.

He moved between them to prevent further escalation, only to be knocked back a few steps by a blur of dark-furred testosterone.

Bollocks.

Kayden’s leopard rose to the edge of his control as he spun to face Seth.

“Who are you?” The questioned rolled free with a loud growl from Seth’s phase-form, directed toward the fae woman.

Kayden stood tall, keeping his fae behind him as he faced the werewolf. Hard to keep an eye on Maisie where she leaned to one side behind Seth, trying to maintain a clear shot. “Let’s everyone calm down.”

Easy to say. Harder to set the example. He wouldn’t back down until Seth did. Instead he kept his voice steady and didn’t shift. Shifting would take too long in any case.

“I’ve been remiss in my introductions.” Kayden held his hands up, palms out. Seth glared at him. At least the other shape-shifter wasn’t attacking. Kayden half turned to face them all. He kept his gaze on Seth, but aimed his words at the fae woman. “This is Seth, alpha of the London pack, and his mate, Maisie.”