by Lori Drake
Ben’s brows shot up. “You know my blood type?”
“I know everyone’s blood type. Everyone in the immediate family, anyway.”
“Why?”
“Why not? I mean, what if it were you lying on that bed? I’m gonna go talk to Eric and see what I can find out.”
She was almost to the door when Ben asked, “What’s yours?”
Joey paused to glance behind her with one hand on the doorknob. “Same as yours. You need anything besides that scotch, doctor?”
“Um, about a gallon of hand sanitizer.”
Smirking, Joey cracked the door open and peeked out. The hallway was mostly clear, but Chris was leaning against the wall outside.
“Did she make it?” he asked, concern shining in his baby blues as he straightened.
“Yeah, so far. Where’s Eric?”
“In the living room with the others. Want me to get him?”
Joey hesitated, but nodded. “Yeah, but she needs blood. Can you ask if anyone knows her blood type while you’re out there? Also, if anyone is…” She frowned and looked over at Ben. “What’s the universal donor type again?”
“O negative,” Chris and Ben said in unison.
Joey blinked, eyes flicking back to Chris. “That’s your blood type.”
“I know.” He smiled, if faintly. “I’ll ask anyway. They might prefer to keep it in the pack.”
She lingered by the door longer than necessary, watching as he moved off down the hall. Maybe it was the stress of the last… however long it’d been… starting to catch up to her, but she couldn’t squelch the warm feelings that flooded her. He hadn’t even needed her to ask. It’d just been a given that if Jenny needed his blood, she’d get it. Why did he have to be such a nice guy? Damn him.
“Oh! And try to find a bottle of scotch,” Joey called after him.
Behind her, Ben chuckled. “Better late than never,” he muttered.
Joey returned to the bed and went back to monitoring Jenny’s pulse. “Do you want to go wash up?”
“Yeah, but I want to update Eric while I can still form coherent sentences.”
Joey chuckled, regarding him fondly. “You were great.”
“Don’t pat me on the back yet,” he said, and glanced down at the pale, unconscious girl on the bed. “If she survives, then you can do it.”
“When she survives, she can do it. Seriously, it’s a shame you’re with Brandon, because these sorts of heroics will get you laid.”
“Oh, I’m definitely getting laid, just not with her.” He grinned, but the moment of levity was brought up short by Eric’s arrival.
The door swung open and the Granite Falls Alpha filled the doorway, taking in the grim scene with an equally grim expression.
“I’d say it’s not as bad as it looks,” Joey offered. “But really, it’s as bad as it looks. Maybe worse.”
Eric closed the door behind him and crossed the room to stand beside the bed. “Is she going to be okay?”
“She’s stable, for now,” Ben said. “She took a deep slash to the abdomen. We got everything back inside and stitched her up. The rest is up to her.”
“We don’t know her blood type,” Eric said. “Jess is trying to reach her parents.”
Joey’s brow furrowed and she looked at Ben. “How long can we wait?”
“Hell if I know. I’m just an EMT, but given the amount she lost… I’d say time is of the essence.”
A pall fell over the room for a few seconds while Eric stared down at Jenny. He was impossible to read at times. This was one of those times.
“Chris volunteered to donate blood,” Joey said, fingers still pressed to the inside of Jenny’s wrist. She stroked her hair with the other hand. “He’s a universal donor. Right now, it’s our best option—our only option, unless anyone in your pack is type O negative.”
Eric’s eyes lifted at the mention of Chris, but met hers only briefly before they twitched upward to the message on the wall. His hands balled into fists.
“Do you have any idea who might have done this?” Joey asked, when he didn’t answer.
“Not specifically, no,” Eric said, his voice tight with emotion. “But it wouldn’t be our first run-in with a hunter.”
Joey exchanged an uneasy glance with her brother. “You think a hunter did this?”
“Who else would it be?” Eric sighed and rubbed the top of his stubbly, shaved head.
Joey had no answer for that, but withheld judgment. After all, they’d thought Chris had been killed by a hunter, and that’d turned out to be pretty off base.
“Tick tock,” Ben reminded them, gently.
“I’ll get Chris,” Joey said, and laid Jenny’s hand down on the bed.
“No,” Eric said. His eyes lingered on the blood-smeared wall.
Joey and Ben exchanged another glance, but Ben just shrugged and slid off the edge of the bed. “I’m going to go wash my hands. You two work this out and let me know when you’re ready.”
Frowning, Joey waited until the door closed behind Ben, then stood and joined Eric on the other side of the bed. “Hey.” She reached for his arm.
He turned when her fingers brushed his skin, but his brown eyes were hard. “I said no.”
“Yeah, we both heard you. But why the hell not? She needs this, Eric. This is serious. She could die. Hell, we’re lucky she’s not dead already.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched. “I know.”
She held his eyes, silently daring him to look away. “Do you? Because it sounds to me like you’re turning down her best chance at survival. For the record, this goes one of two ways. Either you agree to it or we do it behind your back, because I am not letting an eighteen-year-old girl die. Not when there’s any other option.”
He looked at her long and hard, then emitted a frustrated growl of a sigh. “Fine, do it.”
Joey took his face between her hands and drew him down for a light kiss. It seemed like the least she could do to soothe his bruised ego, and in that moment, the least she could do was all she could muster. She couldn’t pretend to understand him. She could barely pretend to like him.
His arm curled around her, pulling her against him, as if the kiss invited more. “Stay with me tonight?”
It was hardly an appropriate time for a proposition, but that wasn’t what made her stomach roll over. She’d been playing hard to get for weeks, not wanting to take the deception too far.
Fortunately, a quietly cleared throat saved her from answering.
“Sorry to interrupt, but are we doing this or not?” Ben asked.
Joey pushed Eric out of her personal space and turned toward the door. Chris stood behind Ben, regarding her with ice chips for eyes.
“Can we move her?” she asked, again wishing she had a chance to explain herself, but more than a little annoyed that she had to at all. “This room’s a goddamn nightmare.”
8
Chris yawned and eyed the thin plastic tube that ran between his arm and Jenny’s for the umpteenth time. He had no idea how long Ben intended to leave him hooked up to the young wolf, but it’d been a couple of hours at least.
“How’re you doing?” Ben asked, probably noticing the yawn. He was observant like that.
“Okay. Starting to feel lightheaded.”
Ben checked the clock on the nightstand. “Let’s give it ten more minutes and then you can have a cookie.”
“There are cookies?”
“Technically, no. Jessica said there were some brownies, though.”
Chris chuckled, thinking back on the conversation about Jessica’s culinary exploits. “I’ll pass. Some orange juice would be nice.”
“Screwdriver?”
“Hold the vodka.”
Ben crinkled his nose. “It’s like we’re not related or something.”
They weren’t, technically, but it was just a joke, and Chris was content to leave it at that. “Says the man that hasn’t even opened the bottle of scotch he asked for.”
>
“I’m working.”
Chris chuckled again. “I’ll be sure to put a good word in when I get the survey.”
As quiet settled between them once more, Chris let his eyes roam the room again. Every time they did, they caught some new detail. The room featured the same shabby carpet and peeling wallpaper that the other rooms had, but some effort had been taken to decorate. Landscape paintings and prints hung on the walls, along with a few framed photographs and awards.
If the photos of Kate’s strong-jawed Native American relatives hadn’t tipped him off that it was her room, the awards would have cinched it. He learned more about her from sitting in her room for a few minutes than he’d learned from the meet-and-greet. For one, she was an expert horsewoman, with accolades for barrel racing and showjumping. There was also a certificate of graduation from the Quinault Tribal Police Academy, dated 1965. That meant that she had to be at least seventy, by his math. There was also what looked like a birth certificate, complete with baby footprints in black ink, but even his sharp eyes couldn’t make out the name or date on it from where he sat across the room. Was it Kate’s, or had she had a child at some point?
The question lingered in the back of his mind, scratching at it while he sat tethered to the wolf on the bed. It had ample opportunity to bug him because, as it turned out, being a lycanthrope blood bag was boring as hell.
The door opening was a welcome distraction, even though it was Joey on the other side. He spared her a nod, but that was the best he could do.
“Everything going okay?” she asked.
Chris let Ben answer.
“So far, so good. Her pulse is steady and she’s getting some color back. I’m going to set Chris loose in another minute or two.”
Joey nodded and stepped fully inside, closing the door. “Has she woken up at all?”
Ben shook his head. “Nope, but it’s probably for the best. It’s going to suck when she does. I don’t have anything stronger than ibuprofen. I can give her a mega dose, but it’ll take time to take effect. The only upside is that she probably won’t burn it off as quickly because of the new moon.”
“Someone needs to stay with her until she wakes up,” Chris said, shifting in his seat. One of his legs was starting to fall asleep, and he itched to stretch, to move. “She shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’ll do it,” Joey said.
“I didn’t mean one of us… it should be one of her pack, right?”
“Maybe.” Joey chewed on her lower lip for a moment, eyes locked on Jenny.
“You know how territorial Eric can be,” Ben said as he rose from the bed and moved toward Chris.
“I know,” Joey said. “That’s why I didn’t suggest you or Chris do it. He might not think as much of it if it’s me.”
Chris snorted softly, and Joey glanced his way but said nothing. He held his arm up for Ben, who peeled back the tape on his arm. A few arm hairs went with it. Chris winced and grunted.
“Sorry, bro.” Ben slid the needle from Chris’s arm and pressed a cotton ball against it. The tiny puncture would close in seconds, but there was no need to bleed all over the place in the meantime. Chris traded his finger for Ben’s so Ben could remove the needle from Jenny’s arm next.
Eager to be on his feet, Chris stood while holding the cotton in place. “I don’t suppose they caught whoever did this?” He glanced at Joey on his way across the room to check out that birth certificate. His foot tingled as if pricked by thousands of pins. It reminded him of the way his whole body had felt when he’d come to in his casket.
“No, and Itsuo is missing.”
Chris halted mid-step. “What?”
“Itsuo… little Japanese guy?”
“I know who he is,” Chris snapped, then clamped his jaw shut and took a deep, calming breath. “I assume they’re out looking for him?”
Joey shrugged, apparently unconcerned. “It’s not unusual. He isn’t a big fan of Eric’s parties. I think the only reason he came tonight was to meet you.”
“But still, given what happened…”
“Remember what happened upstairs earlier?” Ben gave Chris a meaningful look.
It took Chris a moment to realize what he was getting at. “Oh. Yeah, I guess he can handle himself.”
“Speaking of that, what did happen between him and Eric?” Joey said, dropping into the chair Chris had vacated. Her eyes flicked to Ben. “You said he put Eric on the ground, but why?”
Ben grinned. “Ask Chris.”
Chris rolled his eyes upward and continued across the room. “Itsuo dropped the bomb about me owning the house and suggested that made it my territory.”
“Not so much suggested as stated it outright,” Ben said.
“Anyway,” Chris went on, “Eric rushed him. I still don’t really get why. I mean, Eric was the one that thought it was so funny that I didn’t know, and said I had no territory to claim.”
“That’s… Eric,” Joey murmured.
Chris glanced over his shoulder at her and arched a brow, then turned back to the framed certificate on the wall. It read, “Leta Marie Jackson,” and was dated August 22, 1978.
His curiosity satisfied, he turned back to face the room and checked under the cotton ball to make sure the bleeding had stopped. “Anyway, he was wrong. I’m not claiming this as my territory, and I told Eric as much. They can have it, as long as they’re living here. What I don’t get is why Mom didn’t tell me Eric was renting my birth parents’ house.”
Joey shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Ask her.”
“I will.”
Chris located a waste basket and tossed the cotton ball with its tiny dot of blood into it, then bent down to touch the floor, relishing the stretch that ran up the backs of his legs.
“You okay?” Ben asked.
“Yeah, just wanted to stretch.” Chris glanced up and caught Joey watching him with a knowing smile. She looked away quickly.
“I want to stay here tonight,” she said. “Can you two make it back on your own?”
“Sure.”
“No.”
Ben’s response had come at the same time, and Chris looked over at him in confusion.
“You stay, we all stay,” Ben said.
“That’s not necessary, really,” Joey said.
“Yeah,” Chris agreed. The last thing he wanted was to be under the same roof as Joey and her new boy toy.
“We have no idea what happened here.” Ben finished coiling up the medical tubing and hung it on the bedpost.
“That’s why I want to stay,” Joey said.
“There’s a would-be killer on the loose. It’s not safe.”
“I can handle myself,” Joey insisted, getting that obstinate look in her eyes as she folded her arms across her chest.
“Mom would literally kill us.”
“She ‘literally’ would not,” Chris muttered.
Ben shot him a look. “You know what I mean, smarty pants.”
“This is ridiculous,” Joey said, frowning. “There’s no reason for you to stay.”
“My bottle of scotch and ridiculously hot boyfriend disagree.”
Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. “He was making a little sense, before he got distracted. There is a killer out there. Lurking in the woods, for all we know. Maybe it’d be smarter to bring all of them home with us.”
Ben gave his jaw a thoughtful stroke, then shook his head. “Not a bad idea, but we can’t move Jenny without an ambulance, and I’m not established enough to call in that kind of favor yet.”
“What about a hearse?” Chris suggested, tilting his head.
“We’re not moving her in a hearse,” Joey interjected, then blew out a sigh. “Fine, we’ll all stay.” She stood up and marched for the door.
“Where are you going?” Ben asked.
“Outside to call Mom. The reception sucks in this house. No offense, Chris.”
“None taken,” Chris muttered, rubbing his face. Spending the nigh
t in his dead birth parents’ house with Joey and her asshole boyfriend, with a killer on the loose. How could that possibly go wrong?
“Wait,” Ben said, just after the door clicked closed. “Didn’t we just make a fuss about her not being alone?”
Groaning, Chris jogged for the door.
The house was eerily quiet. Enough people lived in the house that it was always noticeably occupied, whether it was a distant hum of music from someone’s room, Lucy and Adam playing video games in the living room, the ceiling creaking as someone upstairs moved around… something. Tonight it was quiet as a funeral, and Joey found herself stepping lightly.
“I wonder where everyone is.” She glanced at Chris. He’d caught up with her in the hall outside Kate’s room, which came as both a surprise and a comfort.
“Dunno,” he said, keeping his eyes forward. “If it were me, I’d be looking for a trail to follow. There was enough blood that it shouldn’t be too hard to find one.”
“True. But how the hell did the guy get out of the room without anyone noticing? He must’ve been covered in her blood, and the house was full of people.”
“Assuming it was a guy.”
Joey rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Person. Assailant. There, happy? How did he-slash-she get out of the house without anyone noticing?”
“Beats me, but the band was on stage. Maybe most people’s attention was there, you know?”
Joey shivered. “And that’s why no one heard her scream. If Lucy hadn’t gone to check on her…”
“Yeah.”
They found the back door closed and locked, as it should be in the wake of what’d happened. Joey opened it, and a cold gust of air blew into the kitchen.
“Where’s your coat?” Chris asked, hesitating in the act of zipping his up.
“Uh, Jenny’s room, I think. I’ll be fine. We’ll just have to make this quick.”
Chris started to take off his coat, but she shook her head and headed outside as she was, leaving him to close the door and follow in her wake. She took a deep breath of the crisp night air. Some of the tension eased from her shoulders. It was nice being out in the open again. Joey slipped her phone from her pocket and called the Grants’ land line. Her mother had a bad habit of leaving her cell phone on the charger, for a woman that liked to know everything about everything.
