by Anne Bishop
The air behind him shimmered, like heat. Then . . .
He must have sensed it, tried to turn and fire. But it was too fast—so fast—and it grabbed him by his torso and thighs, lifted him as if a grown man weighed nothing and . . .
When she was a girl, she had a set of pop beads—colored beads that could be put together and taken apart to make many combinations of necklaces and bracelets, and when you pulled them apart they made a distinct popping sound.
She heard that sound now as a man’s spine popped, as his body ripped in half.
Blood flooded out of that body, forming a puddle. Red red red.
The Elder that took a visible form stood on two legs—furred and fanged and clawed and huge. A nightmare humans were never meant to see. It stared at her as it held the two halves of the man.
This is what that woman saw when it killed her husband, Jana thought. This is why she killed herself.
It bared its teeth, and she felt its snarl rumble in the ground beneath her.
It took a step toward her, still holding its prey.
Then Virgil was there, standing over her, snarling in challenge as he faced down the Elder.
“Virgil,” she whispered. “Run.” She couldn’t help him, and she couldn’t escape. The best thing he could do for the rest of the shifters was get away from a predator that could break him as easily as it broke the man. “Run.”
Of course Virgil, being Virgil, didn’t run. He just snarled louder.
Stupid Wolf.
The last thing she saw before her vision faded was Virgil’s foot too close to her face—and that terrible Elder walking away with its prey.
CHAPTER 36
Watersday, Frais 1
“Stupid female. You think you’re a big predator who can ignore guns and challenge Namid’s teeth and claws. But you’re not a big predator. You’re a small predator puffed up with attitude.”
Oh, goody, Jana thought as she became aware of sounds—and pain—again. Virgil’s on a rant.
“. . . puffed up with attitude.”
Worse, the rant seemed to be on a continual loop.
“What happened?” she asked, barely able to hear her own words.
Virgil’s face was suddenly close to hers, red flickers of anger in his amber eyes. “You. Got. Shot.”
She remembered that. Remembered the pain, the man who was going to finish killing her, and the furred nightmare that walked on two legs.
“I licked the wound clean,” Virgil said.
Okay, she wasn’t going to think about that, especially since she could feel herself fading. Failing. “Through and through?”
“What?”
“Did the bullet go through me?”
“No. It was stuck in you. I got it out.”
“How?” Why were the last thoughts in her life going to be fueled by morbid curiosity?
“With. My. Teeth.”
She stared at him as he bared his teeth. He had something caught between two teeth, like a bit of greens. Except it wasn’t lettuce or spinach or anything that benign. It looked like meat. Flesh.
Her.
* * *
* * *
“Jana!” Virgil snapped her name and waited, watching.
His pack sister was gone again. Gone.
He leaned closer. Felt the shallow breath on his face.
“Jana!” Another voice calling her name.
He looked up and saw Tobias running toward them.
The man dropped to his knees, bent his face close to Jana’s. It hurt to see the look of relief on the human’s face.
“She’s still with us,” Tobias said, looking around.
“Most of the Wolfgard were dead when Kane and I got back to the den after the attack by the HFL humans,” Virgil said softly. “The pups were dead. My mate . . . I licked her wound clean, but it didn’t help. I couldn’t fix my mate. All I could do was stay with her until she wasn’t there anymore.” He looked at Jana. “I can’t fix my pack sister either, but I will stay with her until she isn’t here anymore.”
“Virgil.”
Virgil looked at the man. “Kane doesn’t answer when I call.”
“Virgil, Jana isn’t a Wolf.” Urgency filled Tobias’s voice. “Jana is human, and the human bodywalker is at the hospital right now fixing up people who got hurt in the fight. Help me save her, Virgil. Help me save Jana.”
They could save her?
Virgil sprang to his feet and ran to the edge of the street to look around. The horse that was not meat would be able to run fast to the human bodywalker’s den, but . . .
Seeing the van coming toward him, he stepped into the street. The van screeched to a stop. The driver lifted himself halfway out the window.
“Gods, Virgil,” Zeke shouted. “What the . . . ?”
Before Virgil could snarl a command—or bite the humans who had looked past him—past him—and now were foolishly scrambling out of the van—he heard movement behind him and turned to meet the threat.
Not a threat. It was Tobias, carrying Jana.
“Zeke, I’ll get the doors,” Larry said.
Zeke dodged around Virgil—who allowed him to dodge—and ran to Tobias.
“Oh gods,” Zeke said, looking at Jana.
“Can’t wait for the ambulance,” Tobias said.
“Come on. Larry! Spread some of those bedsheets we picked up yesterday.”
As Tobias and Zeke lifted her into the van, Jana groaned in pain.
Snarling, Virgil shifted to Wolf, ready to deal with any human who hurt the wolverine.
Then Zeke jumped out of the back of the van and Tobias said, “Virgil? You coming?”
He hesitated.
He didn’t want to say more, didn’t want to think. He leaped into the back of the van, careful not to step on Rusty’s human mom, who was bleeding again.
Zeke closed the doors. A moment later, the van jolted forward, almost throwing Virgil off his feet. He lay down on the other side of Jana, giving her the only things he could—warmth and companionship.
* * *
* * *
Jesse approached the station platform. She hadn’t seen Tolya as she and Tobias made their way from the southern end of Bennett’s town square to the northern end. Tobias had headed off to help Jana. She continued on her own to the train station.
How many terra indigene had fought here? She stepped around dead men, automatically moving weapons out of easy reach as she went. She didn’t think all these kills had been made by Elders. The bodies were too intact to be the work of Namid’s teeth and claws.
Someone groaned inside the part of the station that stored packages and other freight.
Judging by the smashed boxes, a part of the fight had happened here, and the fighting had been fierce.
She found Hawks, Crows, and Ravens. Some were in their feathered form. Others were mostly human in shape—if you didn’t look at the heads with beaks or the feet that had talons large enough to gut a man. All were dead from gunshot wounds.
Then she found Nicolai Sanguinati. One side of his face was masked by blood, and his breathing was harsh. He stared at her and slowly bared his teeth, revealing a fang that had broken at some point.
“Nicolai.” Jesse kept her voice firm, just as she had the time Tobias had tried to ride a green colt and ended up with a broken leg. “It’s Jesse Walker. Do you remember me?”
Could a Sanguinati have a concussion? Or brain damage? Nicolai looked like he’d taken a terrible blow to the head, but he could be
paralyzed from some injury that she couldn’t see. And what she could see of him would haunt her dreams for a very long time.
“I . . . remember.” Every syllable took effort.
“Good. I’m going to step outside for a minute and find help. Then I’ll come back and stay with you.”
A quick look around confirmed that the telephone that had been on the counter had been smashed and the cord had been pulled out of the wall. Jesse took a couple of steps toward the passenger side of the station, then shook her head. Even if the phone worked, she had a feeling that there wouldn’t be anyone answering phones today.
Standing outside the station, she whistled—the loud, sharp sound she’d mastered years ago to call a boy to supper.
Birds circled above her. Ravengard maybe. Vultures, more likely. But the vultures were ordinary birds, not terra indigene, and nothing responded to her whistle until . . .
She didn’t recognize the man and woman who approached her cautiously. No visible wounds, but she figured the majority of the folks in Bennett weren’t used to handling guns and would have stayed out of the fight. Not like in the frontier stories where citizens grabbed shovels and pitchforks to help defend their town. But the hard truth was that any human who had picked up a weapon today would have been seen as an enemy.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Craig and Dawn Werner,” the man replied.
“You hurt?”
They shook their heads as they stared at all the bodies on the platform.
“I need you to find one of the Sanguinati. Any one of them will do. Try the hotel, the mayor’s office, or the saloon. If you can’t find one of them in those places, keep looking. Tell them Nicolai is at the train station and needs a little help.” Nicolai needed a lot of help, but she was certain Tolya would prefer having injuries downplayed.
“Okay,” Dawn said. “Is there anything we can bring back for you?”
“Water.”
They hurried away, and Jesse hurried back to Nicolai.
Not knowing what was wrong with him, she stayed out of his reach. But she also stayed within sight so he would know he wasn’t alone.
A few minutes later, Tolya walked in.
Jesse felt a moment of relief, even joy, at seeing him before she registered what she was seeing—or not seeing in his dark eyes.
This was a Sanguinati male without any pretense of humanity. Oh, the shape was still human enough, but it was a predator who stared at her.
“Nicolai needs your help,” she said.
He dipped his head in the slightest acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving her face, never losing awareness of her hands—and the rifle she held.
Keeping the gun pointed at the ground, she moved slowly toward the door. He turned with her, keeping her in sight, his attention never wavering.
Predator. Other.
And she was human, one of the distrusted.
It surprised her how much that hurt.
She didn’t want to believe he and the rest of the terra indigene had become enemies of the humans living in Bennett and Prairie Gold, but she wasn’t sure that was true.
What had it cost the terra indigene to win this fight—and what had the humans lost?
* * *
* * *
Virgil left the hospital. Stinky place. Kept making him sneeze.
He could have helped keep the wound clean, but the human bodywalker wouldn’t let him inside the fixing room, said he had to wait.
He would have shredded the fool’s leg if the bodywalker hadn’t made Tobias wait outside the room too.
He started to call for his brother, then stopped, already knowing there would be no answer. And John? A Wolf with three legs couldn’t survive in the wild country, even with the pack’s help. He wasn’t sure John could survive in this human place either.
Something howled. A deep sound. Distant.
Virgil shuddered. Even shifters didn’t want to approach that form of Elder. But he wasn’t going to let that howl go unanswered because the wolverine had challenged the terrible one, had been the reason the Elders had attacked the enemy inside the town’s boundaries. If he didn’t answer now, Namid’s teeth and claws would come back down from the hills—and after all the humans were dead, all the terra indigene would go back to the wild country and leave this place to the carrion eaters.
All the humans, including his pack sister. That he would not allow.
“Arroo!” I am here. “Arroo!”
I am here. I am here. I am here.
Alone.
* * *
* * *
“Come on, darlin’. Time to wake up.” Tobias’s voice, warm and coaxing.
“Stupid female thinks she’s a big predator . . . small predator . . . puffed up with attitude.” Virgil. Still on a rant.
Jana tried to move. Big mistake. “Hurt,” she whispered.
“Of course you hurt!” Virgil said from somewhere she couldn’t see. “You. Got. Shot.”
Tobias looked toward the door. “Not helping, Virgil.”
Virgil just snarled.
Shot. Yes. She remembered. She’d been fading. Failing. Now? “How bad?”
“Well, Deputy, it was a little more than a flesh wound.” Tobias said the words lightly, but now that she could focus enough to see his face, she could tell the effort to keep it light was costing him, because it didn’t last. “You lost a lot of blood. But the doc patched you up and said the bullet didn’t hit anything vital. You’ll be in here for a day or two so that the doc can keep an eye on you, and then you’ll be on desk duty for a while once you go back to work.” He paused. “One thing about living around Intuits. Plenty of people showed up at the hospital, saying they had a feeling the doctors needed help and patients needed blood.”
Tobias reached for something on the bed tray positioned over her knees. “There might have been concerns about the blood that the hospital had stocked, but look what Fagen and his food salvage crew found to assist patients in their recovery.” He held up a container full of a green substance.
“No one raided the kitchens here and took the green gelatin?”
“Nope. The hospital has its full complement of the stuff.”
“Goody.” Light banter. An effort to say nothing important. “Barb?”
“Neither doc here is a surgeon, but they got the bullet out. Barb might have some trouble with that arm and shoulder, but the doc expects she’ll heal up fine otherwise.”
“Frontier surgery.”
“Wasn’t quite that bad. Modern facility—or as modern as a place like Bennett could afford to have—and plenty of people to help. She’ll be all right. So will you.”
“Her family lives in Lakeside. Someone should tell them.”
“Tolya will take care of that.”
They heard Virgil snarl, a sound ramped up several times from his usual unfriendly greeting. And they heard someone say, “It’s time for her pain medicine, so move your furry rump.”
Jana looked at Tobias. Tobias looked at her. They both looked toward the door as Sarah Gott walked into the room.
“Honestly,” Sarah said as she approached the bed. “He won’t come in, he won’t stay out. He just blocks the doorway and scares everyone.”
Jana drifted in and out for the rest of the day and night. Whenever she surfaced, Tobias was there to talk, to hold her hand, to read to her until she drifted back to sleep. And Virgil was there, blocking the doorway and making a nuisance of himself.
But when she woke shortly before dawn, she felt something under her hand and realized Virgil must have come into the room at some point. And at some point, someone must have explained to him about germs and keeping things clean in a hospital, because what she found under her hand was Cowboy Bob carefully wrapped in a plastic bag.
CHAPTER 37
Earthday,
Frais 2
Jesse tapped on the doorframe of the mayor’s office.
“Jesse Walker,” Tolya said, his voice cold and precise. “Come in.”
“I guess I started this by pushing you to let Bennett be a viable town again. I’m sorry for that.”
“Those humans, the outlaws, would have come sooner or later.”
“Yes, they would have.” But you would have killed them the moment they arrived instead of leaving yourself open to a threat. “How is Nicolai? Does he need blood? Do you?”
“No.” Sharp. Almost cutting.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Softer now. “No. Thank you. A Sanguinati bodywalker is coming to assess what can be done for Nicolai. Until then . . .” He left it unsaid.
“And you?” Jesse asked.
He held up his right hand, showing her that the first joint of the ring finger was missing. “A small but valuable lesson.”
She wondered how humans were going to survive that lesson. She saw the predator, devoid of any feelings for anything but his own kind. But she had a feeling that, given time, some measure of friendship might be accepted again.
“I’m going to talk to Kelley. I heard Dina’s body was found.”
“Yes. She was killed by a human.”
More than killed. Tortured. Raped.
There was nothing more to say, so she turned to leave.
“Jesse.”
She looked back.
Tolya studied her with those cold, inhuman eyes that maybe—maybe—held the tiniest bit of remembered warmth. “Fire told me what you did to help us.”
“To help all of us. My people and yours.”
“That choice will have weight in whatever we decide to do about Bennett.”
Jesse nodded and left. She had been shaped by the wild country just as much as the terra indigene who lived in the Elder Hills, and she could be just as fierce and as ruthless when it came to protecting her own.
