He didn't sound as frightened as Max felt. That was comforting—almost as much as his broad hand against her waist, resting just above her hip where her shirt had ridden up to bare the skin. He didn't pull away or try to correct it, and she was grateful, but too worried about her best friend to enjoy his touch as much as she normally would have.
She would just file that bit of pleasure away to be recalled and relived later.
"Storm?" She tugged Lou to a stop and tilted her head to one side. "Wait, listen…what is that?"
The sound grew clearer, slowly wending its way amid the trees and darkness. A low, deep growl that vibrated to the core of Max's soul. "Jesus." Her eyes shot to Lou's. Then she lunged into a run, her flashlight beam bounding uselessly ahead of her.
Lou was on her heels. She heard him there, felt him close, knew he had her back. "Storm!" she shouted.
The growl was closer, louder. She had to be almost upon it, whatever the hell it was. She stumbled to a halt, dragging in breath after ragged breath, lifting her flashlight, which all but pulsed in time with her heart as she fought to hold it still, steady the beam, and aim it in the direction of that sound.
It caught on eyes that glowed back at her. Stormy's eyes. But not.
Stormy was backed up against a gnarled tree, silent, motionless, maybe dazed or in shock, and no wonder. For there were huge paws braced on her chest and bared teeth in front of her face. The dog—no, sweet Jesus, it was a wolf—the wolf leaned so close to her that she had to feel its breath on her face. Its lips curled, baring teeth that dripped saliva. The low growl kept coming, and the creature never blinked.
* * *
Chapter 9
Lou's heavy tread stopped right beside Maxie. He saw what she did: the wolf braced against Stormy. Max felt him there, though she couldn't take her eyes away. She knew when Lou drew his gun, could see him peripherally, his steady hands and outstretched arms, when he leveled the weapon on the wolf.
"Don't move, Stormy. Just stay perfectly still,” Max said. She tried to make her voice loud enough for Stormy to hear her, while keeping it steady and even enough not to startle the wild animal into action. God, it could rip out Stormy's throat in the next heartbeat.
She knew Stormy heard her, saw her friend's strange eyes shift from the wolf's eyes toward her and Lou. And then those eyes widened, and Stormy shouted in a voice that was very different from her own.
"Nu! Cine scoate sabia de sabia va pieri!"
"What the hell?" Lou asked.
Stormy lifted a hand. It trembled as she stroked the fierce animal's neck, sinking her fingers into its fur.
"El nu e asa de negru cum il zugravesc omen,” she murmured.
The wolf dropped down onto all fours, turned and loped away into the forest, but Stormy remained where she was, eyes eerily wide. She watched Max as if she were as afraid of her as she had been of the wolf.
Lou lowered the gun, and Maxie started forward slowly, holding one hand out in front of her, keeping the flashlight's beam slightly to the left of Stormy's face. It was hard to tell, even in the beam of the flashlight, but she was certain Stormy's eyes had changed, darkened. They were no longer her own.
"Storm? Honey? It's me, Max. Are you all right?"
The perfectly arched brows drew together in a puzzled frown. Stormy lifted a hand as if reaching out to Max, and then she collapsed to the ground.
"Hell!" Max fell to her knees beside her best friend, gently touching her face, her hair.
Lou joined her there in the next breath. "Is she hurt? Do you see any bleeding or—"
"Nothing. I don't think the wolf hurt her."
"Jesus, Max, there must be something. She's out cold." He was kneeling, too, now, tracing Stormy's limbs in the beam of the flashlight, searching desperately for injuries.
"I think it's…l think it's her head. Not an injury, not the wolf."
"What do you…?"
"It's happened before, Lou."
He stopped feeling for wounds and looked at Max sharply. "On the way up to Maine , when she went off the road?"
Max nodded. "And again, back at the motel. She's hearing voices, seeing flashes of light and sometimes images. I think it's precognition, but she's not so sure. And now this."
"Come on, Max, precognition? She's fresh out of a coma. She had a bullet in her brain a few months ago, and you're writing this off to some kind of ES-freaking-P?"
She closed her eyes, lowered her head.
"She belongs in a hospital, Max."
"No." Her head came up sharply. "It's not brain damage, Lou. It's something else."
Lou rolled his eyes, shook his head and scooped Stormy up into his arms. "This isn't about you, Max. This is about her. It's about Storm."
"You think I don't know that?" She ran to keep up as he strode through the woods back toward the boulder, carrying Stormy as easily as if she were a small child.
"If you know it, then stop thinking about yourself. Stop focusing on how bad it's gonna be for you if something's wrong with her, and start thinking about what's best for her. She's fucked up. We need to get her well again."
"I'm telling you, it's not denial this time! I know this thing isn't physical."
"You don't know shit. You might think it, you might feel it, sense it, intuit it, but you don't know it. You won't know until you have proof, and you won't have proof until she gets a once-over from a qualified doctor. Maybe another set of head shots, just to be sure."
They emerged onto the knoll where the boulder was. Jason was sitting on the rock, but he leaped off when he saw them, his face twisting at the sight of Stormy. "What happened?"
"She was attacked by a wolf. I don't think it hurt her, but she passed out,” Max began.
Lou cut in. "We need to get her to a hospital, Jason"
Nodding, Jason turned and used his light to lead them back along the path. "The back seat folds down in the Jeep,” Jason said. "You can lay her down in there. I’ll drive."
"Do you know where the nearest hospital is?" Max asked.
"No idea."
"There was a sign five miles back on the highway,” Lou said. "The exit right before Endover, remember?"
Max nodded as they rounded the brick building and headed into the parking lot. Jason raced ahead to open the back of the Jeep and lower the seat. Then Lou slid Stormy inside. He was as gentle with her as he would have been with an injured child.
"I've got this,” Jason said, sliding behind the wheel. Lou shot Max a look.
She read it, gave him a nod. "I'm riding with her, Jason."
"There's not room—"
"Then I'll make room" She barked the words, causing Jason to snap his head around and stare at her oddly. "She's my best friend, and I'm damn well staying with her. Got it?"
"Sure. Jesus, Max, I'm on your side here."
"Are you?"
Jason frowned, but looked away. He did wait for her to get in the passenger side, because he was correct: there wasn't room for her in the back with Stormy. Max could lean over the seat, though, stroke Stormy's hair, her face, talk to her.
Lou pulled Maxine's forest-green VW Bug into motion and led the way.
Oddly, Max felt some kind of odd weight lift off her mind as soon as they left the town of Endover behind them.
The vampire was watching. He was always watching. He'd watched through the eyes of the wolf, possessing the animal, living within its mind as he stalked the strange woman, eager to get a closer look at her, to feel her. But he'd learned nothing.
Except that she spoke in his own language. Defended the wolf when the man, Lou Malone, threatened it, telling him if he lived by violence he would surely die that way. A threat.
And then she'd touched the wolf, looking deeply into its eyes—his eyes—whispering in his tongue. "He is not so black as he is painted."
As if she knew.
And now Jason Beck was driving her away, taking her beyond his reach—outside the town he controlled.
Where the he
ll do you think you are taking her?
Jason's head jerked up sharply and he jerked the wheel, startled, no doubt, by the voice in his head. He'd obeyed well thus far. He'd brought them here. All this searching, the questioning of Fieldner, plotting with the maps—it had all been an act. Beck was going through the motions, playing the part. Just enough to keep his friends here, long enough to placate the vampire who held his sister.
"To the hospital,” he said. He answered aloud, because he didn't know how else to reply to a voice that echoed inside his head.
It was fine, the vampire thought. So long as he didn't give anything away.
The redhead called Max shot him a look and said, “What?"
"How far did Lou say it was to the hospital?" Beck said quickly, covering. And sweating. He was sweating bullets.
The vampire knew he hated lying to his friends. To Max and even more to the one who called herself Stormy, an insult to her true name. Tempest. It suited her. The vampire was certain Lou Malone saw through Beck's act. Beck no doubt knew it, told himself it would be all right. That he wasn't going to let any harm come to his friends. That he could both get his sister back and protect Storm and Max from harm.
He was little more than a boy, however, up against a man more powerful than any he would ever encounter. Malone… that one might prove to be a worthy adversary. Beck was nothing but a tool, and the vampire would use him in any way necessary.
"Lou said the exit was five miles back,” Max told him.
But Jason didn't hear her, for the vampire was speaking to him again, making his voice ring in the young man's head like the bells of Notre Dame, maddening, deafening. Do not take her to the hospital. Bring her to me, instead.
"Why?"
"Why, what, Jason?" Max asked.
Fool! Do you not know better than to question me? I rule this place! I hold the life of your own sister in my hands, and I will not hesitate to crush it to dust. Do as I say!
"I can't."
"Jason, who the hell are you talking to?"
"I'm not alone,” he said.
Max slammed him in the shoulder. He struggled to shake his thoughts free of the vampire's grip and faced Maxie. "I can't stand this. First my sister, and now Stormy. But at least I'm not alone,” he said.
She looked at him oddly, her eyes narrow, probing, as if she thought maybe he was cracking up. He asked himself if maybe he was. Hearing voices in his head—how real could that be? Then again, he didn't imagine people being mauled by wolves was exactly a common-place occurrence in twenty-first-Century New England .
Not for the first time, he thought maybe he should just come clean and tell Max the truth, all of it.
Do not even think of doing that, Jason Beck. If you do, your sister will pay the price.
Beck nodded, acknowledging inside his mind that he had to do what that voice bade him. Even if he was putting his old friends at risk in the process. Delia's life was at stake. He was her brother. He had to take care of her; it was his job.
But he hadn't anticipated that voice demanding Stormy. Stormy. He'd thought himself in love with her once. Maybe still.
In love with her, the vampire thought, hearing every whisper that passed through the young man's mind. So that was the shape of things.
What is wrong with her? the vampire asked.
"I wish I knew,” Jason said. Then he glanced sideways at Max. "What's wrong with her, I mean." Max nodded.
The vampire knew they were rapidly moving farther away than his power could reach. He could stop them, but there was no need. He'd seen inside Beck's mind. Ile would come back. He would bring Tempest back, because he loved his sister above all else.
See her to the hospital, then. But she must not remain! I will have her returned to Endover before this night is out. Is that understood?
"Yeah,” he said. "I understand." His head was clearing, he thought. He rolled down the window to breathe in the fresh air. He felt the rush of it rejuvenating him.
In the back of the Jeep, Stormy moaned.
By the time Lou pulled into the hospital parking lot and got out, Stormy was awake and arguing. He could tell by the way her mouth was moving and the angry expression on her face in the glow of his headlights, when Max and Jason tugged her out of the Jeep and herded her toward the entrance.
It didn't look like much fun, but Lou opted to join the party, anyway. He walked up to them somewhere in between "Come on, Storm, it's only common sense to get it checked out" and "If I have to see one more fucking doctor I'm going to need a shrink instead!"
He smiled in spite of himself as he joined them, and his mere presence earned him a scowl from Stormy that should have wilted him. "Hey, don't look at me. I'm just along for the ride."
"Oh, thanks, Lou,” Max snapped. "Don't let him kid you, Stormy. He's the one who talked me into this"
"I'm fine." She said it with her jaw clenched.
"You're probably right,” Lou said. "Maybe there's nothing wrong at all. Tell you what, you tell me what it was you said back there, and no one will make you see a doc tonight, okay, kid?"
Her brows rose, but then she smelled a rat and lowered them. "What do you mean, what I said back there?"
"Wait a second, I jotted it down on the way over." He dug in his pockets, his face all innocence. Max was watching him, he noticed, curiosity in her eyes. Maybe a hint of awe at his tactics. Hell, he wasn't that good. He was mighty relieved, though, at the way she'd snapped at Beck just before they'd all left the visitor center. Maybe she wasn't as unequivocally trusting of her old friend as she'd been pretending to be. He finally found the slip of paper, the back of a gas receipt. "I wrote it phonetically, of course." He cleared his throat. "New! Keen-ay sko-ah-tay sah-be-ah, de sah-be-ah va pi-ere-ay." He glanced at Max. "That was it, wasn't it?"
"More like, `keen-eh sko-uh-tay,”' she said. "Other than that, you nailed it. Well, you butchered it, but you got the gist." Her eyes touched his, just briefly. Gratitude, a little humor, some of the affection he was used to seeing there.
He'd missed it during her recent snit. He didn't know what the hell he would do if he screwed up his oddball friendship with Mad Maxie. He'd been afraid he'd damaged things beyond repair, but the look they'd exchanged just then gave him hope that maybe their friendship could still be saved.
Max turned her gaze to Stormy, who was looking from one of them to the other, suspicion oozing from her eyes.
Lou thought the four of them must look pretty conspicuous, standing huddled in a hospital parking lot, tinder the streetlights, talking gibberish to one another.
"What are you talking about?" Stormy demanded. "When did I say anything like that?"
"You said that and a lot more. But I was scribbling in the dark,” Lou told her. "I don't think I even want to attempt to repeat the rest of it. It was when that wolf had you backed up against the tree in the woods back there"
"Wolf? There was a wolf?"
"Actually, Lou, she didn't say any of it, until you drew down on the wolf,” Max clarified. "I almost got the feeling she was protecting it, telling you not to shoot."
"You guys are making this up."
Max moved closer to her, her expression serious and concerned. "Look at your blouse, Stormy."
Stormy looked down at the front of herself, seeing the slight tears in the fabric of her blouse and the distinct paw print atop one breast. Her brows drew together. Her lips trembled. "Oh, my God."
"You…you reached out. You petted the wolf,” Max told her. "It was the damnedest thing I ever saw. You petted it, and it stopped growling. It dropped to the ground and ran away."
Stormy's eyes, wet now, met Maxie's. "Why don't I remember?"
"I don't know, baby. I don't know. That's what we're here to find out" Max slid her arms around the other woman, held her for a second. "It'll be okay, though. We're here for you."
Stormy straightened, but the defiance was long gone from her face and her stance. There was stark fear in her baby blues now. Fear
and confusion.
"I wonder what language that was?" Max asked as they moved toward the emergency room entrance.
Lou shrugged. "I don't think it was any language at all. Just gibberish. Does Storm even speak a foreign language?"
"Nope,” Max said.
"I do so,” Stormy said, a hint of weak humor in her tone: "I speak Spanish." They all knew her grasp of Spanish was pitiful, at best.
"Was that Spanish, Storm?" Max asked.
Sighing, she lowered her head. "No. It's nothing I ever heard before. And I don't remember saying it, or anything about any wolf. Jesus, you'd think I would remember a wolf."
Max nodded. "You passed out cold right after. Stayed out almost all the way here. That would account for being disoriented."
"Just get checked out, huh, Storm?" Lou asked. "For our sakes, if not your own."
"I agree with them,” Jason added. "It's only logical to make sure you haven't developed some side effect from the bullet or the coma. A blood clot or a hemorrhage or whatever."
She closed her eyes, nodded once. "All right. We're here, we might as well. I'll get a quick X ray. Have them send the films back to my doc in White Plains , just in case. Okay? Will that get you all off my case?"
"It sure will,” Lou said. Then he moved past her and opened one of the double doors, held it wide as Stormy and Max walked inside, with Jason bringing up the rear.
The place wasn't busy. Five minutes in the waiting area and Stormy was ushered into a treatment room, while Max continued filling out forms in the waiting area. She'd just finished with the forms when Jason appeared with three cups of hospital-stale coffee. He handed one to Lou, took another to Max.
Max accepted it and looked up at him. "I'm sorry I snapped at you back there, Jay. I was shaken up, that's all."
"I understand. I've been pretty shaken up myself the past couple of days. It's forgotten, okay?"
She clutched his hand in one of hers, squeezed it. "Okay."
Lou tried to pretend his grimace was due to the taste of the coffee, even though he had yet to take a sip.
Two hours and several cups of mud later, Stormy returned, with a forced-in-place smile and a clean bill of health. Max seemed relieved but not surprised. Lou couldn't believe it.
Wings of the Night 08 Blue Twilight Page 10
