Werewolves of Chicago: Curragh (Werewolves of... Book 6) (19 page)

S
he sat
on the mattress with the baby in her arms, shocked he wasn’t crying. The ballerinas sat on Xavier’s mattress, staring off while holding hands. They looked so frail and delicate as skinny as they were. They wouldn’t talk to anyone, even when spoken to. They just stared off like they were drugged, and maybe they were.

Howard tended to Draik first, checking his heart rate and injecting him with saline found in the ambulance along with other much needed supplies. He’d moved on to Tahl now, and Kara watched with mixed feelings. The beast had punched her more than once, and had planned to give her away like a toll for a bridge, but the way he was cut up from head to toe, burned in countless places and bruised around the neck from what must have been a noose, it only made her feel sorry for him. It was confusing as hell.

“They must have played with him for sport.”

“Well, they couldn’t kill him, so they took it as close to death as they could,” Howard explained. “The fucking pricks.”

The change in Dr. Peters was remarkable. His personal confidence had some catching up to do—he still talked somewhat apologetically—but his body was only a little smaller than Curragh’s pack. His
pack.
Kara blinked down to the child, still unable to get her head around the fact that werewolves really existed.

“How is he?”

She raised her eyes to look at Curragh. “Hungry. But I have a feeling you don’t have formula.”

He shook his head. “I doubt they have it in Kruglov’s den, but we could have checked.”

Her head cocked a little. “The little guy wasn’t exactly well cared for. I’m sure there wasn’t any food for him.”

“Maybe some fruit though…or something.” Curragh frowned at the boy from where he stood over her, wearing only those boxer briefs and a bloody torn-up shirt wrapped around his bad arm. “What are you gonna do?”

Kara reached out and he came closer. She wrapped her fingers around his knee and gazed up at him. “I have to tell the captain something. And this baby’s family is missing him. Not to mention those girls. I’d be surprised if they’re out of high school.” Looking over at the sullen dancers, she knew that none of this would be easy to explain.

Xavier walked over from where he’d been watching the doctor work. He seemed to find the whole thing fascinating, when Kara was the opposite. She could barely look at the mending process—it made her stomach do figure eights. “We can’t talk to the police.”

“I know,” Curragh muttered, disturbed eyes falling toward the floor.

Xavier told Kara, “You’re on your own on this one,” with a look that said he didn’t envy her.

She exhaled louder than she wanted and bounced the baby on her leg. He felt heavier than before. Maybe because the mere thought of talking to Mazzagatti weakened her. She got up and paced with the baby on her hip, considering how to make this work. Finally an idea occurred to her, and she walked to the ballerinas and kneeled down to be eye level with where they sat. “Hi. I’m Kara. I’m a cop, and we are going to get you back to your families.” Two sets of eyes drifted toward her, but their expressions remained unchanged, their mouths slightly lax. “That’s right. You’re going home. But I need you to do something for me.” They kept staring. It was eerie, and not at all indicative of agreement. But Kara had to try. “Don’t say anything to anyone about us. Say you remember nothing. None of it. It’s all a blur. Okay?”

“No one will believe them anyway,” Howard told her. “You’re wasting your breath.”

Kara glanced over, then rose up as Curragh added, “No one believes the truth. It’s why we get away with all of this. That, and we’re careful.”

“Careful-ish,” Xavier corrected with an amused smirk. “But even if we videoed what happened today, they’d say it was tampered with.”

“Okay,” Kara said, then turned back to the dancers. “But just in case, if you can hear me, remember that we saved your lives. Don’t jeopardize ours.” Rising up, she walked to Curragh and stood by his side to tell them all the plan. “You need to get out of here. And wipe away any fingerprints. Anything you may have touched, wipe it clean. It doesn’t matter about the mattresses—if they find your DNA they can’t connect it to anything. Fingerprints are easier to pinpoint and you’ve done well thus far. You have no record, right?” Xavier and Curragh nodded. “Dr. Peters—”

“Howard,” he corrected.

“Howard. Bring Tahl—you’ll both come with me. With the baby
and
the ballerinas. We’re going to have a very full Cadillac, but so be it. Wait, where’s your car?”

He blinked a couple times. “It’s miles away, off another entrance to the tunnels.”

“Okay. We’ll get that later. Or better yet, you can leave it there to help our explanation.”

Surprise and confusion mixed on the young coroner’s face. “What are we going to say?”

She didn’t answer, instead turning to Curragh. “How fast can you leave?”

He thought about it. “We have to wipe a few things down, grab Draik, and go.”

But then Xavier shook his head once, interrupting, “All this shit we can leave. But I’m taking those suitcases, and we need to clean out that den, if we’re wiping down fingerprints. We left those guns behind, too. We’ll stash them in the ambulance and get them back to you. I’m a little slower with this bullet in my leg, but I’ll suck it up and move fast.”

“Shifting might pop that sucker right outta there,” Curragh told him.

“True. Worth a try.”

Kara closed her eyes for a goodbye kiss. To Curragh, she said quietly, “I love you.”

“I love you.” He added with a worried expression, “Be careful.”

“I’m smarter than I look, too,” she smiled.

He chuckled and kissed her. “You’ve never been to my home.”

“
I
have,” Howard cut in. “I’ll tell her where to find you.”

Kara nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”

A
s soon as
the Cadillac pulled out and Curragh shut the garage door, he and Xavier turned toward the bathroom and shifted mid run into their wolves. Both snarled as their limbs reshaped, at the pain of the bullet wounds. Theory proved fact as the bullets bounced off the cement floor, joined by the shards of boxer briefs and tourniquet.
We’ll have to remember to pick those up.
Fur shot out from the usual pores, but the feeling was heightened this time. As paws hit the floor running, Curragh cracked his neck with Xavier by his side, several familiar shades darker than he.

At the tunnel’s entrance, they didn’t pause, instead jumping immediately down into the darkness. They raced to where they never wanted to go again. The trip was quick. Soon they reached the entrance where it had all started, and continued onward to the cell where they’d been held, but on the way something caught their nostrils, and with mutual non-verbal agreement, they turned left and headed toward it.

In human form, their senses were heightened over any mortal man. But as their wolves, they were far beyond description. It was this that led them to what they had not perceived before—a stench that could not be mistaken. As they got closer to a closed door, they slowed, claws tapping on the floor in absence of any other noise. Instinctively, they both listened for heartbeats every step of the way, but had no hope of finding any. Not here. Not with that smell.

Shifting back, Curragh cocked an eyebrow at Xavier and waited for his transformation to complete. “What the fuck?”

“I almost don’t want to look.” Xavier shook out his naked thigh and winced.

Curragh chuckled, “Yeah right,” reaching for the handle. He wrapped his hand around it in such a way that the pads of his fingers didn’t touch it. Less to have to wipe clean. He stepped back as the rankness attacked him, so bad he had to close his eyes for a second. “Wow.”

Xavier whispered, “Man,” plugging his nose and stepping forward to peer inside.

In disgust they stared. Lying before them in a room empty of furniture, was a pile of dead bodies. Alexander was there. So were the guards Draik had shot. But they were only the disgusting cherry on a putrid corpse sundae. There must have been fifty people in here.

Curragh shut the door. “No burying the dead, looks like.”

“Nope.”

“What a sick bitch. Come on.”

They shifted back and raced to the dressing room. With their fangs, they hastily grabbed a couple shirts off the hangers before running to wipe prints off everywhere they’d been, shifting into men once there. From wolf to man then back to wolf they went, moving fast, carrying the shirts in their teeth. Curragh even remembered the kitchen where he’d used the faucets and opened drawers. They didn’t forget a single spot they’d touched. And when they arrived last at the bathtub where he could still smell Kara’s sweet scent, Curragh turned to his friend, who was sniffing the air.

“They violated her.”

Xavier’s brow furrowed and his lip pulled back in a sneer. Even though it wasn’t his woman, Curragh knew his friend would loathe the very idea, and could easily imagine himself in Curragh’s shoes. “Is that what I’m…” He stopped himself from saying the word,
smelling.
Cocking his head, his eyes flitted back and forth toward the floor as he considered it. “I hate to say this.”

Curragh demanded, “What?” ready for a fight.

“It could have been so much worse. They could have killed her.”

Curragh’s hackles smoothed out immediately. “I thought you were going to say something…about her again.”

Xavier was appalled, but as with all their reactions, his facial expression was subtle. “Curr, how long have we known each other?”

“Our whole lives.”

“And why do you think I was pissed when she left?”

Curragh licked his lip and admitted he knew the reason. “You were protecting me.”

“Fuck yeah I was! You’re not a wolf who falls easily. Not for any woman. Hell, you’ve never been in love. And you’re my brother. We don’t share blood. We’re here by choice, and that’s more powerful. If you ever—and I mean ever—need anything, I’m here. I was protecting you. That’s all. I have nothing against her.” He paused and looked away a moment, having a hard time saying it out loud. “I’m sorry someone else…touched her. Is he dead?”

Curragh nodded. “But Viktor’s still alive. I know she had a part in it.”

“Well, we’re going to have to track that evil cunt down and tear her head off.”

Curragh’s chest was tight, so he only offered a curt nod. He wanted to kill her, too. And he wished he had her in front of him right now. But he didn’t. And there was nothing to do but say, “We have to get outta here. I think that’s all of it.”

“Look, I’ve got an idea.” Xavier turned, and said over his naked shoulder, “Follow me.”

H
oward urgently informed her
, “Kara, we can’t take him to the hospital.”

She was headed in that direction, and he’d noticed. Tahl was in the backseat, out like a light next to two silent ballerinas, one of which held a baby on her lap, the seatbelt around them both. Kara looked toward the passenger seat to say, “Howard. He needs medical attention and—”

“—Then take him to…where I work.” He added in a whisper, “I can hide things that need to remain hidden.”

Kara glanced over at him, and then back to the road as she realized what he meant. “Okay.” She turned at the next intersection and changed course. Tahl’s blood wasn’t normal. Dr. Peters would ensure that the secret remained one. She never would have thought of that, but of course it made sense. Then it hit her. “That guy who shot himself. The Russian. He had DNA of his attackers on him, didn’t he?” She looked over for an answer, and was met with gravity behind the young doctor’s eyes.

“You know the answer to that,” he said, quietly and with meaning. Then he pulled out his cell and dialed. “Dr. Strathers? It’s Howard. I know I said I wasn’t coming in today, but I changed my mind. You can take the night off if you want.” There was silence as he listened. Kara waited, her eyes on the road. “Great. Yeah, go catch up on Game of Thrones. I’ve got it covered!” He forced a chuckle that sounded pretty convincing.

With a rueful smile Kara listened as Howard hang up and slid his phone back in his pocket. “You’re good.”

“Years of practice.”

“Only problem is, I need you to come with me to Mazzagatti’s office.” She glanced over for his reaction. He wasn’t happy.

“What? Why?”

“Because. I need you to corroborate my story.”

Howard stared at her long enough to make her look over. When she said nothing, he sighed and pulled his phone back out of his pocket. Dialing, he waited for someone to pick up. Kara waited, too. “Mom? I need you to come to my work. Tahl finally went full ape-shit. And he needs to be contained.” He was quiet as he listened, and then finally, “Okay. See you there.” Tucking his phone back away, he muttered, “Great.”

They used the back entrance to the lab, the one Curragh and Xavier had come in when Kara had run into them. As the memory hit her, she realized they had come to visit a fellow wolf and see if the evidence of their being there with her suicide ‘victim,’ was kept mum. Secretly she hoped Curragh would continue to be a mystery to her, at least on some level. It sure kept things interesting. “Maybe it’s best not to tell each other everything,” she mumbled.

Carrying Tahl inside and placing him on a table, Howard asked, “What?”

“Huh?” She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. “Uh, nothing. I was just…never mind. We left the girls in the car. I want to make sure they stay put, so let’s make this fast. I have to meet your mother.”

“Your wait is over,” came a smooth female behind her.

Kara spun around. Now that she knew not everyone was human, she could spot the signs much more easily. This lady looked like she might be heading up a charity committee with her Ralph Lauren suit and matching pumps, but her warm, sandy brown hair was much longer than it needed to be for a woman of normal society, in that role, and her eyes were of the palest blue. Even though she had to be in her late fifties, she was fit, vibrant and her skin shone like it had light behind it.

“Mrs. Peters.” Kara held out her hand. Women like this always made her self-conscious. She was such a tomboy in every way, even with these curves. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m—”

“—A cop. Yes, I can tell. What happened to your face? And that dress!”

Howard coughed, uncomfortable. “Mom, don’t be rude.”

She asked the whole room, “Who says I’m being rude?” as if on stage. “She is a cop, isn’t she? I’m right, aren’t I? Howard! What happened to you?” Her mouth fell open as she circled her son, checking out the tight clothes, covered in patches of rust-colored red.

“There was a…well…a massacre.”

“Not the blood! You’ve got muscles!” Mrs. Peters was truly dumbfounded. “You’re not a little weenie anymore!”

Kara bit the inside of her cheek, embarrassed for him. There’s something about parents—they can cut you down ant-sized with one carelessly chosen sentence. Howard was stammering and mumbling nothing that made sense, and he went to push his lost glasses up on his nose. But they weren’t there, and somehow that reminded him. Kara saw him stand straighter. He squared his shoulders and faced the one partially responsible for his late blooming.

“Mom. Watch Tahl. Make sure he goes nowhere. Call the pack if you need to.” He walked past her and grabbed his lab coat as she gaped at him. “We’ll be back.”

Kara followed him out and bumped his shoulder with hers as they headed for the exit. He glanced over and caught her smile, and a side of his mouth turned up. And out they went.

It wasn’t much of a surprise that the ballerinas hadn’t moved, but now the baby was crying.

Unlocking the doors with her key fob, Kara muttered, “Shit.”