by PJ Schnyder
“We’ll pick some up on the way back for you from one of the supply stores.” Well, and Danny hadn’t wanted to reveal the brownie at the clinic. But he was oddly pleased she’d figured it out for herself and wanted to pay the little fae respect. “He must have liked you.”
And might have passed the word on to the fae in the gardens to watch out for her. They were uncanny, the fae. Unpredictable. Still, he’d take help where he could get it.
She turned then and gave him a smile. Here they were, in the middle of the worst place to be in the city, and his breath was catching at the beauty of her happiness over a simple thing.
He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. He wanted to ask her more about what she could sense. Wanted to know more about what she could do.
But witchcraft was forbidden.
If he asked her, she might have to admit to him she was using it, maybe not even consciously, but instinctually. Likely would be happy to. He was walking a fine line in helping her as it was. If witchcraft was any part of what she was doing, purposefully or not, he didn’t want to know. Couldn’t know. Because then he’d have to stop helping her.
What he didn’t see he didn’t have to acknowledge, and something strained inside his chest to let it happen.
“The huntress statue, here it is.” Deanna had caught sight of her goal and ducked under a few grey-green rose canes.
He moved forward, careful not to trample but not allowing the roses to slow him down either. No zombies in the area yet. “Don’t wander too far away from me.”
“Sorry.” She gave him the distracted apology as she studied the fountain, no longer running with water. Diana, Greek Goddess of the Hunt, stood at the pinnacle on a short plinth in the center of a shallow stone bowl, supported by sculpted figures. “It’s here.”
The fur on the back of his neck and shoulders rose and he turned to catch the scent of decay on the breeze. “Do what you need to do. Stay next to the fountain.”
“Understood.” She’d remembered to give him the verbal, distracted as she was. Good girl. From the edge of his peripheral vision, he saw her step over the low retaining wall of what would have been the pool for the fountain’s water. He had to turn away, as not one, but two zombies thrashed their way through the roses.
The roses had slowed the walking dead considerably. No doubt to the matter. The corpses were torn at the arms and legs from ripping through the thorns. The little anonymous fae had done well.
Danny met the first zombie in a frontal attack, reaching out to grab it by the head and crush its skull as it futilely grasped at his arm. The second one came at him from the side, too slow and clumsy. Putrid flesh hung from the side of its face, exposing the white bone of its cheek and jaw. He swept his left arm out, catching it across the chest and sending it off its feet to land a few meters away. He leaped up and landed directly on its chest, its rib cage collapsing instantly under his weight. He finished the kill, crushing its skull. Had to be thorough with the blighters. Take out the legs or even all of its appendages and it’d still strain toward living flesh until the brain was rendered completely inoperable. For werewolves, that generally meant crushing the skulls, though Maisie had become a handy shot with her .38 Super and 9mm handguns. He’d have borrowed a gun for Deanna, but she hadn’t had any training in how to handle one.
He had no desire to end up shot by accident, regardless of how Maisie and Seth met.
“I found it.” Deanna’s call was quiet, just above a whisper.
He turned to find her standing atop the inner wall of the pool surrounding the fountain. She had a leather bound book folded in her arms, held tight against her chest. He’d not seen it earlier and he’d no plans to ask her where on the fountain it had been hidden or how. Stone was a natural substance, like wood, and witchcraft could manipulate either of those if the witch had an affinity for it.
“Let’s go, then.” He waited where he stood for her to join him, listening for the sounds of more of the walking dead coming through the roses. Instead...
“Do you hear that?” Deanna touched his left arm, above the gore-soaked fur.
“Something banging on metal.” He’d heard it earlier, but it had gotten louder. Apparently loud enough for human hearing. “There isn’t a lot of metal in this area, just a gate or two, the trellises and the railing over there.”
“But this is coming from the direction of our camp. The cage.” Her fingers dug into his fur. “Jason was fumbling with the cage when the zombies got past our perimeter.”
“You even set up a perimeter?” He regretted the question as soon as the words slipped past his blasted muzzle.
Her hand dropped away from his arm and she moved in the direction of the sound. “Scientists, not soldiers, but we did have a plan. It just wasn’t good enough.”
“I can come back and investigate after I get you safely out of the park.” He tried to reason with her.
“We’re here now. And what if someone did survive?”
Not bloody likely. But there was too much hope in her voice and he hadn’t seen the size of the cages they’d brought in with them. If they’d been meant to hold a zombie, a man might have locked himself inside to keep the hungry dead away. If he’d survived this long, he could hold a few more hours, but the tension in Deanna’s posture told him she’d make him carry her all the way out if they didn’t look first.
“If we check, you stay with me.” He growled, putting power behind his words. Her back straightened as he spoke and her lips pressed into a thin line. “If at any moment, I think the danger is too much, I will toss you over my shoulder and leave no matter what we find.”
“Agreed. Please, let’s go.”
* * *
Deanna followed Danny as he led her out of the rose garden and back to the main paths. Things looked more familiar. Her group had come in one of the main gates and followed the bigger paved walkways. With all of their equipment packed into wheeled baggage, it’d made the most sense. They’d set up camp as the sun went down, Ron picking off the one or two zombies wandering by. Too easy, really, and for a bunch of brilliant academics, they’d been—
Danny thrust out an arm, holding her back.
She stayed frozen in place as he dispatched another zombie. Clinical detachment was tough to hold on to but he’d killed it quickly and with admirable efficiency. He must’ve had a lot of practice. It wasn’t easy to watch him crush a skull, or see the grey and black matter ooze out. She’d seen pictures and examined the tissue samples, but the reality of the organism as a whole was a thing of horror. More so because it wasn’t just any organism, it’d been human.
The entire time, her werewolf protector fought silently. She’d kept a lookout for more approaching zombies. And he motioned to her to follow when it was safe to move forward. Not far.
Minute tremors rushed through her arms first, then her legs. Her hand grew numb and she clenched her sister’s diary to keep from dropping it from nerveless fingers.
“All right, then, Deanna?” He’d stopped, watching her. “Take it slow. Don’t think too hard, but realize what this is.”
Of course. A panic attack. Different from the shock she’d been suffering when he’d first rescued her. She was immobilized, gripped by fear, not only staggered by a close brush with a fate worse than simply dying but terrified of the prolonged existence afterward.
“I’m taking you back.” He moved toward her and she stumbled back a step.
No. She reached for something, anything, and found control she didn’t know she’d had until she’d needed to look for it.
“Wait. I can get through this. We’re almost within line of sight.” She fought hard to get the words out, measured and controlled. “Just...look. Make sure.”
You can save me. I know you can save me!
If she could save someone else, maybe Tom’s voic
e would stop haunting her. Otherwise, she was going to need to try a different approach to therapy.
Yes. Wry, clever. That was who she was. Even-keeled and able to compartmentalize even the most distracting emotions in order to get the work done. Her ability to focus gave her power, both in witchcraft and in her research. She’d had the fright of her lifetime, yes, but she’d harness it—use it to drive herself forward—not allow it to hold her back.
The panic attack receded and she steadied. She stared into Danny’s angry gaze. “I’ve got this. Now let’s check and get the hell out of here.”
Please let there be someone to save.
Danny said nothing, but he lifted his upper lip and snarled at her. The man could be scary as hell. But she held her ground. If she didn’t, he’d overrule her and take her back to safety. It was imperative to show him her determination. And it worked; he turned back toward the camp. “For you. And only because you won’t be able to let it go until you see.”
A different kind of tightness entered her chest, stabilized her heart beat. Even if he didn’t call her on it, he was going against his pack, against his better judgment. How many decisions was he making for her sake?
She’d better make it worth it.
No bodies. She’d been afraid they’d be littered around the camp and leading away. Seeing none was worse. It meant awful things and she truly didn’t want to face one of her former teammates. But then she saw the cage...and what was in it.
“Oh, Jason.” Her whisper wasn’t for Danny or for anyone alive.
Jason had been handsome. His blond hair had been worn short, neatly trimmed. Ladies seemed to like the sexy five o’clock shadow he had going, especially one of the female soldiers at the quarantine blockade. He’d had tentative plans to hook up with her on her upcoming leave day, outside the city. Professor Reyes was softening to the idea of letting Jason head back to see the woman. Hell, Deanna had helped him wear the professor down, working out a rotating schedule so they all could have some leave time through the course of their planned study.
Now, his brilliant blue eyes were clouded over with grayish-white film. His tanned skin had turned pallid and the only marks on him were bite marks at his wrists. He was missing a finger. The zombies hadn’t been able to eat much of him, but they’d managed to infect him.
“He died overnight. The ground all around the cage is churned up. He was irresistible. Had to have drawn them from all over the park. They could reach in, probably got hold of his hands and pulled them into range. Bit him before he could yank his arms back inside.” Danny approached the cage, his voice tinged with...guilt? “Probably died of heart failure, surrounded the way he was. I didn’t see him last night. Must’ve happened after I came through. If I’d seen him trapped like this, I’d have done something.”
Jason, or the zombie who used to be him, moved to the edge of the cage and reached for the werewolf.
“Done what?” She edged closer.
“Saved him, if he’d had a chance.” Danny leaned closer, studying Jason’s outstretched arm. Bone showed white where chunks of skin and muscle had been torn away. “But more likely, he’d already been bitten. I’d have given him mercy. I should now.”
He hadn’t killed Tom. But then, Tom had asked him not to.
“Don’t kill him.” She couldn’t watch Danny dispatch Jason the same way as the others.
“He’s already dead.” A fact, given to her in a gentle tone.
“There aren’t a lot of coincidences in this world.” How could she make Danny understand the hunch nagging at her. “He’s here. He’s not a zombie we captured and he’s right at the beginning of the change, isolated and hasn’t fed on anything. I can take samples now and study the change over time. I don’t have to come back if you don’t want me to. You could take the samples for the rest of the time points.”
They’d worked so hard on the protocol, she couldn’t let the study go. Not when exactly what they’d needed was right here.
“I agreed to help you find out what happened to your sister.”
“This is a part of what happened to her.” She tried to convey how sure she was—her conviction, her absolute certainty—that this was connected. She had to convince him. “This. My sister. What’s happened to your city. They are all tied together and we need to know. The others, they’re reacting. The world changes and they move to adapt. They’re not asking how or why. But you and me, we need to know, if only to warn them if something worse is coming.”
A low growl emitted from Danny’s throat. His dark brown eyes lightened to an odd gold as he clenched and unclenched clawed hands. Violence emanated from every aspect of his posture and she had to lock her knees to remain standing. He wouldn’t hurt her. She knew it with the same certainty she had for what she was asking him to do.
This was the right thing.
He charged her. She closed her eyes. Didn’t reach for her leather pouch, didn’t activate her ward.
A groan, followed by a sickening crunch sounded just over her shoulder. Danny’s arm was around her, his hand pressing her face into the fur of his chest. Her heart hammered in time with his. She hadn’t been watching for other zombies. Hadn’t heard it come up behind her.
“You have collection vials with you?” He never stopped growling, his words barely comprehensible as he spoke.
“Yes.” She couldn’t lean back to look up into his face. He kept her pressed against him.
“Don’t look. Where are they?”
The zombie. It must have been one of her colleagues. Who? Ron? George? Karen? Maybe even Tom or Professor Reyes. It didn’t matter. They were all dead but she was about to make sure Jason’s death, at least, hadn’t been for nothing.
“I have a set in my messenger bag. It should still be in the big crate near the cage.” Where else was she going to keep them, in the pockets of her jeans? Jeans nowadays didn’t have enough give in the pockets to carry a wallet, much less any of her supplies.
“We’ll do this thing. And if you get thrown out of London, it’ll be my arse tossed out with you. Probably worse.” He cursed. “But it is the right thing.”
Relief flowed through her, alongside some other emotion she couldn’t define. She didn’t think. Only wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight.
Chapter Six
“When we go back to the clinic, don’t talk about the study. Don’t ask about the samples.” Danny strode up the steps of the helical walkway, shifting back to human form as he did and barely remembering to keep a pace Deanna could manage. It was both difficult and painful, but helped clear his worried mind. It didn’t sit well with him, doing this thing. It bordered too close on disobeying Seth.
“I won’t.” Her words came a little breathless so he stopped and peered out through the huge glass panes to look out over the River Thames.
“Don’t even whisper. We hear things humans think we can’t all the time. And you never know when one of the boys will be underfoot.” He shook his head. “And never lie to us. Shape-shifters can smell a lie, read it in your body language.”
“I figured.” She stood near him, looking out over the view.
He waited, listening to her breathing and her heart rate. “The boys too. They spent their youngest years doing anything they could to survive. They’ve not lost their street smarts now they’ve become wards of the pack. They can tell the difference between a lie and the truth.”
“Most children can, once they learn to put a name to each of them.” Deanna’s voice took an edge. “They usually haven’t the guile to lie well themselves, but they recognize the difference.”
Ah well, the boys had the guile to manage it too.
Suddenly, she huffed out a laugh. “This is City Hall, isn’t it? There’s a certain irony to you telling me not to lie in a government building.”
The corners of his mouth turned up before he could hold back the smile. Easier to smile when he was in human form. In phase-form he looked like he was snarling. Fair scared full-grown men into pissing their pants. “Well, Seth hates politics and government, so he’d never come here. There’s not many patrols as there’s few people living in this area. The government officials were first out when those who could evacuate the city, did.”
“And did you bring me here just to warn me not to talk or are you going to show me something too?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. Oy, she made him awkward as one of the boys. “You haven’t had a chance to see much of the city yet.”
And he wanted her to see the beautiful parts of it, those that were left, before she dove into her sister’s memoirs. In all she’d been through, he wanted to give her something, some good memories to chase away the horror of it all. He turned and continued up the staircase as it spiraled all the way up to the top of the building. Almost all of the great panes of glass were still intact, though many of the smaller ones were broken by shotgun blasts and possibly angry citizens. Even though he had to stop the once to give her a bit of a rest, she was in good shape for a human. Ten stories was a fair bit of a climb.
Once they reached what was once referred to as “London’s Living Room,” he reached back and took her hand in his. The viewing deck offered a panoramic view of the River Thames and the city up and down its banks.
“Wow.” She squeezed his hand as she took in the scenery. “From here, you can hardly tell the city is mostly deserted.”
True enough and exactly why he’d brought her. “The population of London proper is a fraction of what it was, but people still make their lives throughout the city. Coming up here, looking out over all of this, gives me a bit of perspective. This is still our home and we’re working to take it back.”
“There are places so far away from all of this, they pretend it isn’t happening.” She swallowed hard. “It’s too easy to see a streaming newscast and think of it like a movie with special effects. The United States didn’t have an “incident,” as they call it. Too many people over there just shake their heads and figure maybe it’s some sort of hoax or a sort of amusement park.”
