The Better to Bite (23 page)

Oh, this couldn’t be good. But right then, I was hurt and scared and I just wanted to get away from the flames.

Maybe that made me a coward, but I didn’t care. I wanted to escape right then.

I climbed up into the ambulance. My dad followed me. He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m sorry,” was his stark whisper.

I swallowed. “What will happen to her?” My voice was as quiet as his. “Please, Dad, help Cass.”

His head lifted, and he stared at me. I knew how serious the situation was. Cass had raised a weapon—been ready to fire—at a roomful of people. Sure, they’d been werewolves, but
people.

I told him, “I don’t think she even knows where she is right now.” Because Cass was in shock. Grief, pain, they could drive a person right to the edge.

And beyond.

His fingers brushed down my cheek. “I’ll do my best.”

He would. That was all I could ask of him.

“Sheriff! Sheriff!”

The station burned behind him.

“Go,” I said even though I wanted him to stay with me. I was a cop’s daughter. I knew the job.

Hated it, but knew it.

He kissed my forehead, and then he eased back.

The ambulance’s siren screamed on. I shut my eyes as the doors slammed closed. Someone was unwrapping my arm. Checking my blood pressure. Asking me about the injury.

“It was an accident.” Rafe’s voice. He’d actually come with me. For some reason, I hadn’t expected that.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to see him better. He was close to my side.

“It was just an accident,” he repeated again as the EMT frowned. I heard the growl lying beneath the words and the EMT quickly nodded. I figured that he’d heard that menacing growl, too.

“R-right. Sure thing.” Then the EMT went to work on me.

I met Rafe’s gaze. I didn’t know what to think of him. Dangerous, dark, but he’d gone into that fire. He’d saved those people.

His fingers took mine, wrapping lightly around them.

Right then, the big, bad werewolf made me feel safe.

***

I had vague memories of being wheeled into the hospital. Of some guy in a surgical mask pushing one very long needle into my arm and then sewing my flesh back together.

Rafe was in my memories, telling me that everything was okay.

I felt like he lied, but I didn’t argue.

When I opened my eyes to the stark white hospital room, I expected Rafe to be there.

He wasn’t. My dad was. With stubble covering his jaw and his tired eyes stained by shadows, he watched me from the bedside chair. When he caught my stare, he smiled. “Hi, baby.  Welcome back.”

I didn’t feel like I’d been away. I’d woken up alert, and worried. “Cass…”

My voice sounded a little hoarse. I wasn’t sure why. My dad immediately handed me a Styrofoam cup with a straw sticking out of the top. I slurped greedily and the water felt great on my parched throat.

Why did I feel like I’d been screaming?

I drank until I’d drained the cup, then I immediately asked again, “Cass? Dad, what happened to her?” My voice sounded a little less like a frog’s croak. A little.

He put the cup down. I shifted on the bed, trying to sit up more. The stitches in my arm pulled a bit. One arm had been marked by claws and now, one arm sported a bullet wound. Nice.  I’d be wearing long-sleeved shirts for a while.

My dad exhaled on a long sigh. “There was only so much I could do. She had a gun, and when the firefighters and EMTs arrived, she started shouting about werewolves.”

Crap.

His lips thinned. “She’s in the psych ward now.”

A chill rose on my flesh.

“When you feel up to it, you have to talk to her,” he said. “If we can push it as a-a—”

“Psychotic break?” Yeah, I knew the term. My dad had dealt with some really screwed up felons in Chicago. Thanks to him, and all those law and crime shows on TV that I liked to watch so much, I knew how these situations went.

“We might be able to keep her out of jail.” His hand jerked through his already tousled hair. “Losing her grandmother, it’s understandable that she’s traumatized. She was emotional, over-wrought.” He shook his head. “I just wish she hadn’t come to the theater with the gun. What the hell was she thinking?”

Vengeance.

“She was going to attack innocents,” he said.

Only Cassidy didn’t think werewolves were innocent.

And my dad had been ready to shoot her. He
had
shot, that was why my arm throbbed with every breath I took. “She needs help,” I told him, and it was the truth. He knew that.

“Yes.” His gaze held mine, then dropped. “Anna, I am so sorry.” He leaned closer to the bed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. I remembered him doing that—before, when the ambulance’s siren had been screaming. “I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. I just—I’d told her to drop the weapon. But she lifted the gun. I didn’t see you behind her, and I
had
to stop her.”

I understood his job and the price he paid to do it. “It’s okay, Dad.”

But I could tell by his expression that it wasn’t, and wouldn’t be, not for a long time.

“Do you…did you get any chance to talk to the—” Should I just call them wolves? Werewolves? “Did you talk to
them
last night?” I asked instead, making sure my emphasis wasn’t subtle.

A nod. “They all swore they hadn’t hurt anyone.”

Like a killer would just straight-up confess. “Did you believe them?”

“I believe Jon and Charles when they say they will patrol the woods each night. If a werewolf is out there, hunting, they’ll damn well find him.”

If?
They were long past the
if
stage.

“And when they find him, then what?” I wanted the truth. At this point, I thought I deserved it.

He gave it to me. “A prison can’t hold a werewolf. At the first change…” He shook his head. “There’s only one way to stop a wolf that’s gone bad.”

Death.

The door swung open then, and a pretty nurse came into the room. She smiled at my dad, that too-bright smile that I’d always seen pretty women give him. He acted like he didn’t notice her flirtation. Same way he always did.

“You’re awake!” She said with high perk in her voice. “That’s so wonderful! You’re all stitched up and the doctor says that you can go home—”

“She’s not leaving until tomorrow.” My dad’s flat voice cut right through her cheer. His gaze locked on mine once more. “You stay here tonight.”

Because tonight was the full moon. Dad would be hunting with Charles and Jon, and I knew he wanted me safe.

I exhaled and nodded even as the nurse stammered something about checking with the doctor.

I was sure the doctor would back my dad. When he wanted to be, my dad was extremely persuasive. Maybe it had something to do with his badge. Or his gun.

It didn’t take the nurse long to regain her perk, though, as she checked my vitals. She leaned over me and said, “Now don’t be too worried about that rash on your throat. With that necklace gone, your skin will be turning back to normal in no time at all.”

What? My hand flew up to my throat. The skin felt slightly rough to the touch. “Where’s my necklace?”

She motioned to the small, bedside table. “It’s safe.” The nurse pulled back. “But with your silver allergy, you shouldn’t be wearing it. It could be very dangerous. You’re lucky the doctor on duty noticed the signs of—”

“Silver allergy?” I tried to look around her at my dad. I didn’t have a silver allergy.

But dad wasn’t looking at me. I saw his stiff back. He was at the door. “I’m going to talk to your doctor.” His expressionless voice drifted over to me. “I’ll make sure he keeps you for observation.”

“Dad!” Something was wrong. I was missing
something.

Silver allergy? Since when?
Goosebumps rose on my flesh. I’d felt a chill a few times before. Now, I was nearing the freezing mark.

His shoulders seemed to stiffen even more as he glanced back at me. “It’s okay, baby. You’re not the only one in your family to have allergies.” His smile was twisted, and that smile never quite made it up to his eyes. “You just take it easy, and rest, okay? This will all be over soon, I promise.”

My dad always kept his promises.

I told myself that, over and over, even as I wondered just what he was hiding from me.

***

Rafe didn’t come to see me. Actually, no one came for hours, not until nearly four o’clock in the afternoon. Then, a light tap sounded at my door.

“Come in!” I called, almost desperate for company at that point.

Valerie poked her head inside. Her eyes were wide and worried. “Are you okay?”

I nodded and motioned for her to enter the room.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, voice quiet but heavy with tension. “I heard at the diner…Cassidy actually shot you?”

Um, no. “That’s not what happened.”

She blinked. “But they said—”

I wasn’t sure who “they” were. “Cassidy didn’t shoot anyone.” I shrugged and felt the pull of the stitches. Those stitches were already driving me crazy. “This was just an accident.”

She licked her lips and inched closer. “When do you get out of here?”

“Tomorrow.” Unless Dad got super protective again. A definite possibility.

Her hands twisted together, and she glanced toward the door.

I saw the fear flicker over her face. “Valerie? What’s wrong?”

She swallowed. “The moon’s going to be full tonight. What if—what if the wolf comes hunting again?”

A very scary possibility that I’d worried about all day. My advice? “Stay inside! Lock your doors and just
stay inside.
”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “My parents are out of town. It was supposed to be a second honeymoon trip for them, and I-I couldn’t tell them not to go because I was scared of a—of a werewolf!” Her hair shifted over her shoulders. “I tried to tell them about this summer, about what happened, but they sent me to a shrink! He told them I was too stressed over school and cheerleading.”

Because no one believed in werewolves.

Wasn’t that why Cass was in the psych ward?
I’ll get you out, Cass. Promise.
But first I had to be sure Cass wasn’t gonna get trigger happy again.

“Do you have some friends that you can stay with?” I asked Valerie. “Just for the night.”

“Karen’s at a ballet recital this weekend, and Julia’s at her grandmother’s in Charlotte.” Her shoulders straightened, and she swallowed. “This is silly, isn’t it? I mean, I’ll be fine.”

“My dad’s hunting the wolf,” I told her, wanting to make her feel safer. “He’s getting some of the—” What to call them? Shifters? Was that PC? “He’s getting some of the older wolves and they’re going out hunting tonight. It’s the full moon, they’ll be stronger, and they should be able to track the rogue.”

Her brows rose. “Rogue?”

I fiddled with the sheet. “It’s what some folks call a wolf that turns on the pack.” So I’d heard from an animal expert during one boring Saturday afternoon while I watched a nature show.

Silence. Then, “Do you really think they’ll stop the rogue? It seems so strong.”

“My dad’s a good hunter.” Simple. True. “He’s not going to stop until he catches the wolf.”

Valerie swallowed again. She looked like she might be battling tears. Another knock rapped at the door, and she jumped.

A candy-stripper entered this time. A girl named Katie who I was pretty sure went to Haven. She had flowers in her hands. Big, bright, yellow flowers. “From an admirer,” she said with a grin.

When she left, I took the card. Opened it quickly.  I expected it to be from Rafe.

It was from Brent. His bold scrawl slid across the crisp white card.

“That’s Brent’s shirt,” Valerie said as Katie left.

I blinked and followed her gaze. Sure enough, what was left of Brent’s shirt—stained with my blood—had been folded and put on a nearby chair.

I heard the edge of sadness in Valerie’s voice and didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t the wicked witch of Haven anymore. Hell, with my family background, maybe I was the witch.

Valerie was just a girl. Hurting. Scared. I wanted to make her feel better.

But then she moved, too quickly, and grabbed the shirt. “Why is there blood on the shirt?” She spun back to face me. “Is Brent—”

“The blood’s mine. He was just helping me.” This wasn’t my truth to share, oh, damn, it wasn’t, but I could tell by her expression that she understood—

“He’s…one of them.” The shirt fell to the floor. She stepped back, fast, and she bumped one of the machines near me.

I didn’t speak.

“Tell me!” Her voice was close to a yell.

“You need to talk to Brent.” I kept my own voice low.

But she shook her head. “He was so mad at me this summer. He found out about me—me and Rafe. Brent knew that I’d cheated on him—”

Whoa, whoa, hold up. She’d been with Brent
and
Rafe?

Valerie stumbled toward the door. “I was going to meet Rafe that night, at the Fourth of July party. Maybe Brent knew, maybe—”

“Brent is
not
the wolf who has been making the attacks!”

She stopped her too-quick speech and blinked at me.

“The car accident,” I dropped my voice, not sure just how thin the hospital walls were. “He was with me, remember? He was hurt in that accident, and while I was trapped in the truck, the wolf came at me. It’s not Brent. It’s
not
.”

I noticed that her hands were shaking. “I don’t know who to trust anymore.”

“You can trust me.”

She held my stare.

“I saw Brent that night. He’s not the wolf hurting those people. The wolf I saw then, it was big, black, with glowing yellow eyes—”

“All of the wolves look the same,” she whispered. “Granny Helen told me that. When they change, it’s nearly impossible to tell them apart.”

Was that true? That would sure make hunting the rogue a whole lot harder.

“So maybe Brent wasn’t the wolf that night, but how do you know he didn’t go after Helen? Or some of the others? What if it’s more than one wolf?” Valerie’s face flushed. “What if it’s all of them?”

Yeah, okay, that was
not
a good thought. Because if she was right, and my dad was heading out into the woods with those wolves, then he’d be heading right for death.