When Wolves Howl: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 2)

by Nicole Zoltack

  “Your concern is touching,” he says mildly.

  “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me!” I spit out, disgusted.

  “Hey, I never made you out to be a damsel in distress. I’m not that kind of guy. I respect you. Hell, I admire you.” He gets all up in my grill. “But what you need to understand is that you don’t have to fight your battles alone. Man, Clarissa. Did you pull this crap with Travis? You have a partner for a reason.”

  Just like that, the wind blows out of my sails.

  “Here I am, thinking you’d appreciate that I brought you here before telling anyone. I didn’t even mark it as a crime scene yet. You know how much trouble I could get in for doing that.”

  I settle for touching his hand since I can’t pat his shoulder. “I do appreciate it,” I say quietly, “but if you think that earns you a kiss, forget about it.”

  His sigh drips with despair. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “But you can for being overdramatic.” I grin. “Do you think you can set up the tape now?”

  “Sure thing.”

  While he gets to work, I examine the head. Most of the blood has dripped from the head onto the stake. The grass below is stained black with it.

  Oh, man. Don’t tell me I have to try and wipe some off the decapitated head. My stomach churns at the disgusting thought.

  Then again, isn’t that better than hunting down a live vamp that might decapitate my own head?

  A quick glance reveals Diego isn’t paying me any attention. Wincing, eyes closed, I touch the bottom of the head beneath the vamp’s chin.

  Feeling guilty and definitely judging myself for this, I lick my fingers. The blood has a heavy, metallic, salty taste to it. Somehow, it’s actually not as vomit inducing as I feared it to me.

  Now what? How soon will it work? Do I need more blood?

  Or will I start to get sick and experience symptoms like Calinda and Gizmo?

  “You’re shaking,” Diego says. “What’s wrong? You don’t have to stare at that thing. It’s not gonna fang you.”

  “Fang you very much for that.” I roll my eyes but do walk away from the impaled head. “Do you need help with that?”

  I cross over to him, and together, we tape the perimeter. I’m careful not to do anything that tests my shoulders, though.

  Diego calls it in, and anxiety seeps into me. Rex’ll come. Maybe even the lieutenant. I’m gonna get my head chewed off. I just know it.

  The sound of sirens blaring in the distance alters into a kind of buzzing within my head. Instantly, my vision turns dark, and I collapse.

  My eyes blink open. I’m on a terribly uncomfortable bed. A hospital bed.

  Seriously? Why couldn’t Diego have just taken me home?

  A nurse walks in. “You’re awake. I’ll let the doctor know. Is there anything I can get you?”

  “Water, please.” My throat is parched like I’m dying of thirst.

  Thirst.

  I drank vamp blood.

  Well, technically, I licked it, but my stomach churns with loathing and revulsion that I cover my mouth.

  The nurse turned to go, but when she sees me, she stops. Without hesitating, she rushes over with a bucket just in time for me to spew vomit in it. Head down, I hold the bucket in place.

  “Water and some napkins please,” I ask.

  “Sure thing, hon.” She grabs me some paper towels, place them on the rolling tray beside my bed, and leaves the room.

  I’m not sick again at least, but a horrific thought crosses my mind, one I refuse to dwell on.

  My mouth is wiped by the time she comes back. She’s wearing gloves as she exchanges a Styrofoam cup filled with ice water with the bucket.

  “I’ll clean this for you,” she says cheerfully.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, disgusted with myself. I hate vomiting.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  I catch her nametag before she walks over to the sink. Kat. The name rings a bell.

  “So, how are you and the lieutenant doing?” I ask, hoping she’ll give me some intel. It’s much easier to focus on this than on what may or may not be happening to me.

  “Who?” she asks innocently.

  I sigh, disappointed. “He told you not to talk to any of us, huh?”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.”

  “Are you dating a cop or a lawyer?” I joke.

  She places the now clean bucket at the foot of my bed. “In case you need it again. I hope you don’t!”

  If not for her suddenly red cheeks highlighting her embarrassment, I would’ve thought her unaffected by my teasing.

  Knuckles rap at the door.

  “Doctor Dean,” I say, my words slurring slightly. For some reason, my body feels a little out of sorts, like I’m floating. Out of body experience! That’s it!

  He nods to nurse Kat, who leaves us alone. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I blacked out.” I eye him critically and nod. “You really do look hotter with a five o’clock shadow.”

  “Thank you. I think.”

  Dr. Dean places his laptop on the counter and proceeds to examine me. He checks my heartbeat and lungs, my nose, eyes, and ears.

  When he goes to grab a tongue depressor, I shake my head adamantly. “You so don’t want to do that.”

  “I have to.”

  “Can I have breath mint first?” I ask desperately.

  He chuckles. “I’m not going to shove my tongue into your mouth. Just this.” Dean shakes the depressor.

  “You don’t understand. My breath… I just puked.”

  His lips curl into a smile. “You really think I haven’t smelled worse than puke breath?”

  “There’s something worse?” I’m shocked.

  From the shudder of disgust he gives, it’s clear there really is.

  “Now open up.”

  I grab his wrist and hold it up and away from me.

  His eyes widen with surprise. “Your shoulder. You shouldn’t be able to do that without a ton of pain. Why aren’t you crying?”

  “Don’t you know? I’m part cyborg. I don’t feel pain.”

  He tosses the depressor onto my tray and slowly, gently rotates my shoulder forward, back, and then all around. “No pain at all?”

  “Nope. I’m made of stone.”

  “Carved stone,” he mumbles as he rolls up my sleeve and unwraps my bandage. They fall onto the floor.

  I don’t have to look to know my wound is healed.

  The vamp blood did its job.

  Now I have to do mine and kill Amarok.

  Easier said than done.

  Chapter 26

  Both of my shoulders are perfect and whole again. No more gnawed on destroyed skin. No more pain. No more limited movement.

  It’s as if I had never been attacked.

  Dean is shaking his head, still rotating my shoulders, jaw dropped in shock, confusion visible in his furrowed brow.

  “Aren’t you happy that I’m a fast healer?” I ask, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

  “How are you all better? Your stitches need to come out.” Shaking his head in disbelief, he leaves the room and returns almost immediately with a suture kit. Jaw tight, he removes every last stitch. Given how many he had to throw, it takes him a little bit.

  Before he’s done, I reach up and touch his face. Maybe it’s inappropriate because he’s working, but I don’t care. His stubble tickles my palm.

  “Hey,” I whisper. “Don’t be afraid.”

  He takes out the last one and tosses his equipment onto the tray. “I am afraid. I’m worried and anxious. I don’t… How can you…”

  “I’m a cop. Cops get injured.”

  “Not like you do. And they don’t heal like you do.” His jaw is clenched. So are his fists.

  “Are you angry with me?” I’m baffled by his reaction, but then realization dawns.

  And he confirms it with, “Do you have something to
tell me?”

  “What? You think I’m a vamp? No fangs, see?” I bare my teeth for him, probably blowing some vomit-breath in his direction, which I so didn’t want to do. “No cravings for blood, either. I am really thirsty though.”

  I reach around him for my water and drink. So cold and refreshing. Tears burn my eyes. All right, I’ll admit it. I was terrified that the vamp blood might do something more to me than just heal me. Especially when I woke dying of thirst. But the water is all I need, not blood.

  I’d be able to relax and enjoy myself if not for Dean still being so uptight.

  “How do you explain being healed?” he asks through gritted teeth.

  “Why are you pressing this?” I ask, defensively, careful to keep any hint of aggression to myself. I’m not disappointed with him for asking, but I do wish he would trust me.

  My stomach twists uncomfortably. Should I just tell him? He knows about vamps as it is. Maybe he can handle this.

  Then again, am I being selfish keeping him around? I am becoming a bit of a supernatural punching bag. If I can’t keep myself safe, how can I keep others safe?

  At least I’m alive. Shouldn’t that count for something?

  “Can you blame me?” he asks, clearly disillusioned. “If you can be healed like this, maybe some of my other patients can be, too.”

  Oh.

  Shame and remorse plague me as I pat his hand. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “That you’re keeping a huge secret from me?”

  “I…” I open my mouth to tell him, but then I shut it.

  I’ve crossed so many lines as it is that I’m not even sure where the sand is anymore. I can’t see past the vamps’ fogs. My judgment is impaired, and further involvement on his part will only spell his doom.

  “It’s because of the case I’m working on,” I say desperately, clutching his hands. “Please. Please don’t press this. Don’t reject me. Don’t resent me. If I could tell you, if I could help your patients, I would.”

  He sighs. “I know you would. I just don’t like…” His jaw tightens again.

  “Secrets,” I murmur. “I don’t either. Believe me.”

  Dean’s gray eyes fill with concern. “You’ve dealt with so much. You’re a survivor. It’s… I’m glad you’re all right. Don’t think I’m not.”

  “You worry about your patients. It’s understandable.”

  “You worry about them too,” he murmurs. “You’re doing so much for all of us, and most people have no idea what’s going on.”

  “I want to keep it that way.”

  Dean squeezes my hand, and his baby dimple appears. “Because of my sister, secrets make me think of lies and covering up terrible misdeeds. Sometimes, though, maybe some secrets are unavoidable.”

  I nod.

  Before I can respond verbally, though, he continues, “There’s one secret I want to share with you.”

  “Shoot.”

  He leans close, staring deep into my eyes. For some reason, this is a little uncomfortable for me. The vomit breath. That must be it.

  “I really like you, Clarissa Tempest.”

  He moves to kiss me, and I duck so his lips press against my forehead.

  Shocked hurt shines in his eyes and slight frown.

  “I just saved you from big bad vomit breath.” I grin. “Really earning my badge here. That is one major threat.”

  Dean laughs and straightens. “As far as I can tell, you’re one hundred percent better. Your shoulders are both in perfect working order. The skin is flawless—“

  “Not exactly.” I point to an old chicken pox scar on the top of my left shoulder.

  He kisses the mark. “The skin is flawless,” he repeats. “I’m not sure why you vomited, though.”

  “Trust me. It’s nothing to worry about. I’m good to go.”

  “If you want to be discharged, I’ll write up the paperwork.”

  “Thank you. Yes. I have to get out of there.”

  A cloud of disappointment shadows his face. “You’ll be careful, right?”

  “Hey. Don’t look so worried. I’m not abandoning you. I just have to get back to work, and so do you. You have your patients to tend to, the ones who are actually sick or hurt.”

  “Call me. Leave a message or a text so I know you’re all right.”

  “Sure.”

  He kisses the top of my head and leaves.

  Kat brings me a paper to sign, and I’m out of there. Honestly, I’m thrilled I’m better, that the gamble paid off, but I hate keeping the whole story from Dean.

  Even worse, I’m terrified that all of this has been for naught. What if Amarok finishes me off the next time we go at it?

  Chapter 27

  When I get home, it’s almost six in the evening. My body is humming with energy. After a quick shower, brushing my teeth, and mouthwash, I’m off to Leading Edge for a black belt class. Is it my imagination, or are my punches and kicks more powerful?

  “Watch your form,” Sensei points out critically.

  I nod and bend my knees more, mindful to keep my hands up as I go through the different combinations.

  Once the class is over, I head to the gym. I still have too much energy. Is all of this because of the vamp blood? How long is it going to last for? Honestly, I don’t want it. It’s not inspiring. It’s worrisome. Who knows what all are the side effects of the vamp blood will be?

  Once more, I go home. It’s lonely and depressing, too much so. I only open the door before I leave again. For the most part, the vamps don’t seem to be a problem. Rolf’s the only wolf who comes near me. Yes, the threat of Amarok remains, but I’ve accepted that either he will kill me or I will slay him. One way or the other, we’re going to meet up again. If it’s tonight, so be it.

  It’s a short drive over to North New Street and Fairview Cemetery. The new moon is a beautiful sliver of silver light. The gravestones glow as if angels have flown over them, leaving dust in their wake.

  A light dusting of snow falls as I make my way to my parents’ graves. For once, I feel almost lighthearted and even happy to be here.

  Why?

  Because I’ve accepted that I may be joining them soon.

  I kneel in front of their stones like I always do when I visit. “I know it hasn’t been long since last time, Mom, Dad, but so much has been going on lately. I know I already told you, but vamps are real, fangs and blood and all. I just…”

  Unnerved, my chest tight, I pause, grimacing. It still feels so strange to talk about vamps out loud.

  “And that’s not even all of it. Wolves, too. Werewolves, I mean. People who can change into wolves. Real wolves, animal wolves. Not like half-man, half-beast.”

  My shoulders tense. No pain. I’m still amazed I’m all healed.

  “Sounds terrible, right? That’s not the whole story,” I continue. “One massive wolf is super old, super strong, super crazy. He eats flesh, drinks blood, almost like a zombie vamp of a werewolf.”

  A fog rolls in, slow but majestic with the glowing moonlight. Somehow, I know it’s a naturally occurring fog, not one from a vamp.

  “I don’t want you to worry. You don’t, do you? Yeah, Mom, I’m sure you’ve never stopped. Dad? Calm her down for me, okay? Stay at peace. You are at peace?”

  I hope so. That’s always been my biggest hope.

  “It’s my job to go after him. I will. I’ll do my best. That’s all I can do, right, Mom, Dad? You’ve always said I was destined for greatness. Who knew that would mean fighting a killer wolf?”

  “You’re crazy, you know that?”

  I startle and whirl around, reaching for my gun.

  Blake Damon leans against a nearby tree, his face half-covered in shadows.

  My fingers brush against the top of my parents’ cold gravestones. “Goodbye,” I murmur.

  Then I stalk over to him, agitation with every stomp.

  “Did you leave a vamp’s severed head on a stake in the park?” I demand.

  He a
ppraises me critically. “No,” he says after a brief moment of terse silence. “In fact, I’m only here to say goodbye.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  Is that good or bad?

  “Does that mean there aren’t any more vamps around?” I ask eagerly.

  “It means that you’ll have to handle them yourself if there are.” He slants his head to the side. “What’s going on with you?”

  “What do you mean?” I cross my arms, irritated by the heat of his appraisal.

  “I mean that you seem different somehow. Off.”

  “Maybe it’s because I’m about to gear up for round two against Amarok.”

  “Round two? You survived a first encounter?”

  “So glad you’re shocked,” I grumble.

  “Why aren’t you running away before he tracks you down? It’s possible he’ll tail your scent and kill people you’ve spent a lot of time with.”

  “Mostly I spend time with other cops who can handle themselves,” I say drying, burying a sudden wave of fright. “And my best friend can take on any guy.”

  “But not a wolf,” he cuts in.

  I ignore him, thinking of Dean. He looks strong and capable, but does he know any self-defense? Does he have a gun?

  “Thought of someone you don’t want him to come across, huh? Believe me. When you’re in this line of business, it’s better to stay alone.”

  “What was the fang for?” I blurt out.

  He just grins.

  So frustrating.

  “Got any more vamp blood vials?” I ask casually, hating that I sound like a junkie in need of her next fix. “Or that smelly vamp-repellent perfume?” I add as an afterthought.

  He exhales loudly through his nose. “You drank their blood.”

  “I—“

  “I didn’t give it to you for consumption! What are you, one of those stupid, floozy girls who wants to become one?” He jabs his finger into my chest, forcing me to retreat a few steps as he marches forward.

  Angrily, I grab his finger and shove it away. “Look, bub, I hate vamps. Jury’s out on the wolves. I will do my best to take down Amarok. I needed to heal, okay? If I’m to try again, I kinda need my shoulders in working order, so, yeah, I drank blood.”