Cheetahs Never Win

by RJ Blain

  “I did, sir,” the woman replied.

  “I’m taking an oxygen tank and this mask, and I’ll have them returned when I’m finished with them and they’ve been decontaminated. If you need authorization forms to take the equipment, call the CDC. They’ll provide the documentation. I have a list of other supplies I’ve been authorized by the CDC to take to treat him outside of the hospital.”

  “You’re taking full responsibility for him?” the doctor asked.

  “You’re insufficiently trained to handle this patient, so I recommend you get out of my way. And if this cheetah scares you, when I shift, I outweigh him by at least fifty pounds. He has some growing to do.”

  “What supplies do you need?” the nurse asked.

  Joe pulled out a sheet of paper from his back pocket and handed it over. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  She hurried off, shucking off her bloodied scrubs as she went and tossing them into a corner.

  “All right, Aaron. Let’s get a look at you.” Joe muttered curses under his breath and unbuckled the cuffs around my legs, tossing them aside. “Entry wounds?”

  “Two chest, one shoulder, two in his arm,” the doctor reported. “The chest shots may have been ricochets; they didn’t penetrate beyond the breastbone and were easy to pluck out. The shoulder was a heavy bleed, and is the primary source of the damage. One bullet in his arm lodged against the bone, the other went fully through.”

  “Damage to the shoulder?”

  “We’re uncertain. He hasn’t been scanned yet, and I don’t have the right sensory abilities to judge. I’m specialized in soft tissue repair.”

  Joe’s brow rose. “How specialized?”

  “I’m specialized in hemorrhage control. I can’t manipulate or repair muscle and organs, but I can control the bleeding, which is what I did.”

  “I’m going to need a full surgical kit and casting materials on top of everything else on my list, depending on what that bullet did going through his shoulder.”

  “It couldn’t have damaged too much,” the nurse said, sticking her head back into the room. “He performed CPR, and the paramedics claimed he was fully mobile until he shifted.”

  “Where’d you pull the bullet out from?” Joe demanded.

  “Against the bone; I could verify some light cracking without the use of imaging machines.”

  “Likely another ricochet.” Joe nudged my head to the side and prodded at my chest, which hurt enough I growled. “Sassy’s going to be thrilled when she sees this. You’re a walking sieve, Aaron. At least you’re not leaking for the moment. What sedative did you use on him?”

  The doctor named a drug, and Joe nodded his satisfaction. “Good choice for lycanthropes. Lasts long enough for the base treatments and tends to calm the virus without tapping it out. Make sure you keep a stock of that flagged specifically for lycanthropes, and make sure it’s fresh. You don’t want any risks with that. If you’re having trouble administering it, use a dart gun. That’s how we handle it in the field. When treating a lycanthrope, you’ll want to monitor their virus levels in half hour intervals. You want their virus to help, so you can’t drug it into submission.”

  Joe resumed poking and prodding at my fur, and I lashed my tail each time he touched too hard or located a gunshot wound. “All right, Aaron. Until I get to see how badly those bullets damaged the bones, you’re to stay off your paws. If we need you to move, we’ll move you. Once Sassy—”

  “Once I what?” Sassy demanded, and a moment later, she leaned over me, her eyes narrowing as she examined the mask around my muzzle. “His eyes are dilated to hell, Joe.”

  “He’s high on sedatives, which is a good thing. It’ll make it easier to get him home. They sedated him so they could remove the bullets and stop the bleeding. They patched the leaks, and at cursory look, his virus is hard at work repairing the damage. You stay with him, keep him calm, and don’t let him off that table. He took a round to the shoulder, two to the chest, and a pair to his arm, and I have no idea how much actual damage the rounds did. I’m hoping ricochets, but I don’t know yet.”

  Sassy dug her fingers into the scruff of my neck and held on tight. “Can do.”

  “This lady here is Aaron’s mate, so I recommend you keep your tones pleasant, your manner courteous, and treat her like the lady she is, as I’m not going to be responsible if either one of them go after you for crossing their lines right now. She’ll keep him calm, but they’re newly mated, so that means if you don’t treat her properly, he’s going to disregard all my advice about staying off his paws and educate you on why you treat a lycanthrope’s lady properly.”

  I liked Joe’s opinion of the situation, and I lashed my tail to make it clear I’d live up to his expectations.

  “You’re giving him ideas, Joe.” With her free hand, Sassy scratched behind my ear. “Settle down, Aaron. You can’t maul any doctors or nurses today. As soon as Joe clears you, I’m taking you home, and we’ll make sure you’re all right. There’s a bunch of cops guarding your truck along with a few of my brothers. Daddy’s at home making sure they’re ready when we get in. I took care of calling your parents, and they’ll probably be at the house when we arrive.” She bit her lip and bowed her head. “They told me Maxwell didn’t make it.”

  “Killed instantly, Sassy, and I’ll keep telling you and Aaron that until you believe it. And don’t you start about what would have happened if you’d been with them. You would’ve been shot, too.” Joe cuffed his sister’s ear before pulling her into a hug and kissing the top of her head. “You take care of Aaron while I get everything prepped. He’ll be fine. He’s conscious, he’s beating the table with his tail, and he’s alert. Maybe they don’t know how to treat lycanthropes here, but they covered the important parts, and I can take care of the rest at Dad’s place.”

  According to Joe, early onset lycanthropy and my first shift saved my ass in more ways than he could count. One day, I might understand how he could touch someone and identify everything wrong with them. While cracked, my shoulder emerged relatively undamaged, and he called in a favor from a few of his military buddies to repair the damage so I wouldn’t need a cast.

  The wounds would take a few days to heal, and I’d spend the time as a cheetah, but I’d recover.

  It wasn’t until Joe’s military buddies left that it really hit me that Maxwell had laid down his life trying to keep my promise to Sharon. I’d come within a hair of doing the same, too.

  Bones could be knit. Gunshot wounds could be closed.

  No one could raise the dead. I supposed God could, but he wouldn’t. I supposed God’s angels could, too, but they wouldn’t, either. Everything had a season and a purpose under Heaven, and just as there was a time to live, there was a time to die. No one could stop the inevitable march of time until the end of days and the cycle began anew.

  And just as there was a time to live and die under Heaven’s watchful eye, there was a time to kill, a time to heal, a time to break down, a time to build, a time to weep, a time to laugh, and a time to mourn.

  Sassy cracked and broke first, and she wept into my fur, shuddering from the force of her sobs. With the same undeniable force of winter’s first breath through the trees, we all fell to our grief in different ways. Cheetahs couldn’t cry, and the pressure built in my chest adding to the physical pain Joe’s drugs couldn’t quite touch.

  Silence reigned, something I understood far easier than the senseless loss of life.

  What could any of us say? I’d hated Maxwell for so long for what he’d been part of, but he’d done something so few did. He’d taken up his cross and tried to make up for what he’d done. To learn he’d been just one puppet among many worsened the blow of his loss.

  He’d carried his cross for something he hadn’t been fully responsible for.

  Nothing I could say or do would bring Maxwell back. All any of us could do was try to fill his shoes and hope we didn’t fall short. When had he gone from someone I’d distrusted and believe
d a lesser man, to someone I aspired to be like? Somewhere along the way, I’d changed course, so subtle it took the man’s death to realize I’d begun trying to wear his shoes despite my apprehensions.

  I couldn’t bring him back, but I could do one thing. I could find justice for him and the others lost. They wouldn’t notice from their graves, but everyone left behind would. While I wanted to rend them with my teeth and claws, I’d set aside my desire for revenge and topple the empire responsible for so much grief.

  Maxwell’s death would not go to waste. That much I could do.

  The hours stretched on, and when Sassy’s grief made way for exhaustion, I listened to her breathe and felt the rise and fall of her chest against my back. Her weight offered small comfort, but I took what I could.

  Sassy’s father crouched beside us and covered his daughter with her blanket, one that still carried hints of my scent on it. “She’ll be all right.”

  In time, we all would be. Time did that no matter how hard we fought against it. Tomorrow, the cut of Maxwell’s death would heal enough to make the weight of grief a little less smothering. The day after, the fury would take root, and we’d wage a different battle, one I believed would test our limits.

  A thin line separated justice and vengeance. Revenge fit in somewhere, too, although I wondered if we could ever find peace if we dipped our toes into those bloody waters. No, we wouldn’t.

  It might take days, months, or even years, but we would have to satisfy ourselves with finding justice any way we could.

  Vengeance would have to sit on the sidelines.

  The deepest cut of all was the realization Maxwell had been the one to teach me that bitter lesson.

  He could have sought vengeance for the loss of his old life, but instead he chose to seek justice and liberty for all.

  Sassy’s father rocked back on his heels, rested his hands on his knees, and regarded me with narrowed eyes. “How’s he doing, Joe?”

  “All things considered, good. He’ll be back on his feet in no time. Aaron, I know you’re not going to like this, but I’d like to check your memories one more time. You’re going to relive the shooting. I can’t help that. If I could take that away from you, I would.”

  I shook my head.

  Joe considered me with a frown. “You don’t want it taken from you?”

  I nodded.

  Something in his eyes shifted, some sort of lingering pain time hadn’t healed for him and might never fully erase. “You were never the kind to run from difficult things. Are you willing?”

  Joe needed to know the names, Sharon’s fears, and Maxwell’s last moments, too. He could do the one thing I couldn’t: he could speak. I nodded.

  “All right. Dad? Hold his head steady. I don’t know how he’s going to react to this, but I’d rather he not thrash. I’ll try to be quick, Aaron.”

  I nodded and rested my head on my paws.

  With the memories so fresh, what could Joe do? I already relived Maxwell’s final moments, replaying his last breaths even as I’d tried to get Sharon out of the line of fire, too.

  We’d both been willing to lay down our lives for Sharon’s sake.

  I refused to regret my choice despite the price I’d pay for years to come. Men like Maxwell weren’t easily forgotten, and I found his sacrifice easier to accept when I acknowledged neither of us would have changed anything, even if we’d known the outcome.

  Sassy’s father rested his hand on the top of my head, and Joe touched my shoulder.

  I’d been right. Joe delving into my memories hurt no more than what I already carried, and in the wake of his magic, I found relief and an almost gentle sense of peace. Later, I’d cycle through the stages of my grief, but I could carry the burden without breaking beneath its weight.

  Maxwell’s death wouldn’t be wasted.

  “Jesus Christ,” Joe whispered.

  “What?”

  “Get on the horn with the cops and tell them to check Sharon’s apartment. There has to be bugs planted in there, and if we’re lucky, the memory chips are in the cameras. If we get that, we have some good leads. It was a planned killing, and they waited until Sharon told Maxwell and Aaron what the articles and the killings were really about. It’s bad, Dad.”

  “How bad?”

  “Bad enough. I don’t know if they meant to leave Aaron or Sharon alive, but I have no doubt Maxwell was their main target after what Sharon told them. Maxwell knew too much, too. I think they meant to kill Sharon Gray but Aaron got in the way. From what I can tell of Aaron’s memories, they targeted Maxwell before spraying the apartment. I can’t tell how Aaron was shot; the entry and exit wounds on his arm match from being hit from behind, but his chest shots were either ricochets…”

  “Or someone was in the apartment?” Sassy’s father asked.

  “If there was someone in the apartment, Aaron didn’t see them, but he did see the shooters without realizing it. I can get composite sketches done. They were on the roof and in a second-story apartment across from Sharon’s. And I can tell you one name without needing the sketches, and it’s bad news.”

  I’d seen someone? I tried to lift my head, but Sassy’s father applied pressure and held me down.

  “Who?”

  “Maxwell’s partner.” Joe’s expression darkened. “And I’m willing to bet he’s the bastard who tagged Aaron’s truck. He was at the station the same time Aaron was before the crash. He’d been around his truck.”

  Sassy’s father growled. “Just how far back in Aaron’s memories did you go, Joe?”

  “As far as he let me with his permission, Dad. I got his permission. I swear. Aaron?”

  I bobbed my head, forcing Sassy’s father to release me. I reached out with a paw and touched his shoe.

  “All right. Did you see the Park Lane shooting?”

  “I did.”

  “Anything out of place?”

  “I’ll have to talk with Aaron about it and refer to his photographs. I don’t know what he didn’t see versus what he did see. We’ll have to figure it out after he shifts back. Sorry, Dad. It’s not infallible. Some things are easier than others. When he doesn’t think he sees anything, but I clearly see figures through the window and on the roof, I know magic was at use. But I don’t know who he thought he saw at Park Lane and who he didn’t think he saw. It’ll have to wait.”

  “Anything else?”

  “As I absolutely refuse to look through his memories beyond the shooting, no.”

  “Why not?”

  “Dad, they made the wolves uncomfortable. I don’t want a front row seat to what Aaron did with my sister.”

  “I think it’s obvious what he was doing with your sister. That’s what mated pairs do. Really, Joe. You’re an adult. A little sex isn’t going to kill you.”

  “When it involves my sister, yes, it will!”

  “I want names, Joe. And when I get them, we put an end to this once and for all.”

  “No, Dad.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “We aren’t getting justice for Maxwell by indulging in murder, however much they deserve it. No, we’re going to give them something far worse.”

  Sassy’s father growled. “Explain yourself, son.”

  “Sorry, Aaron.” Joe sighed. “I get more than just memories when I use my magic, Dad. Every thought, every feeling. It’s a part of the package. Sure, I can dodge the worst of it when I want. I can shield myself somewhat, but when it’s so raw, it’s hard. Maxwell wouldn’t have wanted us seeking revenge. He’d want justice. There’s a difference, and this time, we’ll have to play it Maxwell’s way. It’s not our way, but it’s the right one. We’ll just have to make sure our case is so strong, those guilty have no hope of escaping justice. And well, if justice also involves a little vengeance, that’s fine, but we stick to the spirit of the law as much as the letter. We beat them at their game, and we beat them fairly. And when we tear their empire down around them, we’ll walk away with clean hands. It’s
harder that way, but that’s what we’re going to do.”

  Sassy’s father drew in a breath, closed his eyes, and nodded. “I can live with that.”

  “It’s not our choice. It was Maxwell’s.”

  No one could raise the dead, but for a time, he’d live on through us, and that would have to be good enough.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Grief worked in mysterious ways, and while mine washed away and crystallized into new purpose, Sassy fell beneath its weight. She clung to me except for rare moments dictating we be separated, but she always came back with her steps dragging, her head bowed, and the life beaten out of her. It took me a while, but realization sank in.

  For all we’d investigated crimes and dug into the secret lives of people in the search for justice, I’d always sheltered her from the worst parts of our job, carrying the burden of it so she wouldn’t have to. I’d walked in her shoes the first few murder cases we’d pursued on behalf of the defense, and I’d accepted more than my share of the work to keep her from experiencing the bitterness of life at its absolute worst.

  My caring came at a price, and she paid it in a blow so heavy we’d all falter for a while.

  I couldn’t protect her from everything, and I hadn’t done her justice in sheltering her. Her father carried some of the responsibility as well, although I’d never blame him for trying to safeguard his little kitten for as long as possible.

  Sassy wilted, but when she worked her way through her grief, I’d watch her grow and blossom into someone new and ready to face the world. How she would emerge would dictate a lot about our future, and I held my breath in anticipation of the moment she progressed beyond mourning.

  Sassy’s father tired of his little kitten’s grief by breakfast the next morning, and he decided to take matters into his hands, scruffing me and dragging me off while Joe contained his struggling sister. “I’ll return him. You’re going to mat his damned fur sobbing on him all the damned time. The damned holes are closed, he ain’t got no broken bones, so stop treating him like a box of tissues already!”