Violet (The Silver Series Book 4)

by Cheree Alsop

  “Hey!” Kaynan replied, but there was no offense on his face. Instead, he watched Grace with the careful attention of one who has found a good thing and fears losing it. I had never seen him so taken by anyone.

  Roger came into the room and surveyed us all with a quick glance. “We need a transfusion and the only matches are Jaze or Mouse,” he said without beating around the bush.

  My heart tightened. “He’s still losing blood?”

  Roger shook his head. “We’ve stopped it for the most part, but we fear that he’s lost too much for the healing process to be effective. A transfusion is his best chance at this point.” He smiled to soften his words, but they still fell like blows on my aching heart.

  “Can I donate blood?” I asked.

  Roger shook his head. “Sorry, but no. We don’t know what changes have occurred to yours and Kaynan’s blood, and we don’t have time to check it. We tested everyone else a while back for Jet’s transfusion, and only Mouse and Jaze are matches.”

  Jaze stood up. “I’m ready.”

  Mouse moved to protest, but Jaze shook his head. “I’d rather it be me.”

  The scrawny werewolf didn't argue and Jaze patted his shoulder in passing. I wanted to follow him so badly, but knew I would only be in the way in the small operating room.

  The others sat around me in silence for a minute until Jet stood up from leaning against the hallway door jamb and watched the front door expectantly. The door opened to reveal an older woman with long dark blond hair and a hint of gray at the temples. She smiled at us all warmly and gestured to the crock pot she held in mittened hands. “Stew, anyone?”

  The others rushed to help her and Nikki introduced her to me as Jaze’s mother. “It's wonderful to meet you, Colleen,” she said. “I'm sorry about your friend. He's in the best possible care.”

  I nodded and tried not to think about what I would do if they couldn't save him. Mrs. Carso must have noticed me blinking back tears because she gave me a warm hug. “This is a good place. You'll both be safe and your mother will be happy to know you're here.”

  Kaynan came back from the kitchen in time to hear her and shook his head. “They don't know Colleen's alive.” Mrs. Carso's eyebrows rose and he sighed. “I know, I should have told them, but Colleen couldn't control her phasing and we didn't want them to know if. . . .”

  “If I couldn't ever get it under control,” I concluded quietly.

  Mrs. Carso nodded in understanding and gave me another hug. “Well, we're glad you're here and I'll take care of you like I promised your mother I would take care of Kaynan. And that includes food,” she concluded.

  The front door opened and a boy with spiky brown hair walked in. “Did someone say food?”

  Everyone laughed as though they shared a joke. “Can't hide anything from you, can we Brock?” Mrs. Carso asked with a chuckle.

  Brock shook his head. “Not if it has to do with food. That's serious.” He eyed the kitchen. “I smell stew. Is Jet in there?” At Kaynan's nod, he hurried passed us muttering, “Be lucky if there's anything left after that ravenous werewolf's got a hold of it.”

  “Guess he figured if we weren't at your house, we'd be at Nikki's,” Kaynan said to Mrs. Carso.

  She winked at me. “Human and werewolf teenagers are like puppies or mice. Once you start feeding them, they never stop coming around.”

  “Did you just compare your son to a rodent?” Meg asked, coming from the hall. She wiped her hands together with an antiseptic that stung my nose.

  Mrs. Carso nodded and they hugged like old friends. “They are unstoppable,” she said.

  Meg laughed. “Tell me about it.” She gave me a weary smile. “We've done what we can. I don't know what it is that keeps that boy ticking. He shouldn't be here right now, that's for certain; but he's strong and made it through the surgery, which is more than I thought he would do when I saw him.”

  At my pleading look, she gestured toward the operating room. “He'll be asleep for a while, but you can go to him.”

  I ran down the hall and opened the door to find the two doctors and Roger scrubbing off. The sink was coated in the rust red of blood and the room smelled of iron and sterilized equipment. Jaze smiled at me as he rolled his sleeve back down. “The transfusion went well. It’s a waiting game now,” he said. He paused at the door. “Nikki will bring you some food. You look like you could use it.”

  I thanked him quietly and turned to the others.

  “He's strong,” Dr. Benjamin said, barely meeting my eyes before turning away to gather his supplies. “But don't get your hopes up. I've never seen anyone live after being disemboweled, werewolf or not. He's lost a lot of blood, and despite the transfusion, he's still in pretty bad shape. We'll be lucky if he makes it through the night.”

  He left the room with a curt goodnight to the other two men and I stared after him down the hall.

  Charles, the veterinarian, patted my shoulder. “Don't mind him. He's a little rough around the edges, not much of a werewolf fan. But he's a good surgeon and you can rest assured that Rafe got the best possible care.”

  The wolf on the table had thick bandages wrapped all the way around his stomach and back. What showed of his dark gray fur had been cleaned of blood. He looked skinny and worn, a mere shade of the wolf who had welcomed me into his forest. His chest rose and fell shallowly and his golden eyes were closed. Leather bands had been placed around his chest, paws, and hind quarters to hold him on his side. I touched one of the bands.

  “To keep him still in case he awakens,” Roger explained gently. “We don't want him pulling his stitches.”

  I nodded, but couldn't speak past the lump in my throat. Rafe had taken all of this for me. He could have died, could still die, all to protect me from a cougar because I wasn't careful. He told me that the forest could be dangerous and would turn on me if I didn't stay on my toes, and he was right.

  “You can stay here,” Roger offered. “We have a guest bedroom and you're more than welcome.”

  “Could I rest on the couch?” I forced out. “I've gotten some control, but I'm not so good with small rooms.” The operating room we stood in was starting to feel claustrophobic, but I didn't want to leave Rafe's side.

  Roger nodded with an understanding smile. “Of course. Whatever you need. I'm amazed at how much control you've gained since the rehab center.”

  I gave him a weak smile. “The forest was good for me.”

  “I can tell,” he said generously. He turned his head toward the open door. “Meg's calling us to eat. Smells like Mrs. Carso’s cooking!”

  I looked at the door, surprised that I had missed Meg's calls, but my mind was focused on Rafe's heartbeat and the steady but shallow rise and fall of his chest. “I'm not hungry,” I said softly.

  “We’ll bring you something just in case,” Roger replied. He left the room and I was grateful when he kept the door open. A shudder ran through my skin at the thought of being behind walls again, but I forced it down and pulled a chair close to Rafe's table. I set a hand on his side, laid my head on my arm, and listened to the breath flow in and out of his lungs.

  The door opened behind me, but I didn't move. Soft footsteps made their way to the other side of Rafe's table.

  “I wonder if the forest cured her insomnia, too,” Roger said quietly.

  “I don't know if it's as much the forest as the werewolf that's doing the curing,” Meg whispered back.

  “Who would've thought?” The touch of awe in Roger's voice brought a flashback of a wild werewolf in a silver cage, his face shielded and golden eyes watching me, guarded and searching. A tear squeezed through my closed eyelids and slid slowly down my cheek.

  “We should let her sleep,” Meg said. She set something near my chair, then they both turned away. They left the door open wide enough that fresh air trailed into the room. I wiped the tear on my arm and closed my eyes again.

  Chapter 8

  My bones ached from staying in one position so
long that I finally had to rise and walk around. My feet led me to the kitchen and I was surprised to find Meg still up. She gave me a tired smile and gestured with a cup of coffee, “Great for the insomniac.” She peered at the coffee and chuckled, “Or it's the reason I can't sleep, which is probably the case.” She shrugged. “But either way, it’s a good companion on sleepless nights.”

  She gestured to the bar stool next to her and I sat down. We waited in amiable silence for a few minutes until she said, “You know, I used to hate werewolves.”

  I glanced at her. She studied the contents of her cup, her brow creased. “I did, too,” I admitted.

  She looked at me and a knowing smile touched her lips. “He's a good guy, isn't he?”

  I nodded, but couldn't find the words to say how wonderful he truly was. They knew him as a wild werewolf and that was all. There was so much more to him, but I didn't know where to start. I took a shallow breath. “Roger told me a little bit about your son before the attack at the rehab center. How did you get over that?”

  Pain showed in her eyes before she turned back to her cup. She let out her breath in a rush and rose. “This calls for more coffee.” She went to the pot by the stove and poured another cup, then she glanced at me, grabbed a blue and yellow mug from the cupboard, and poured me one as well. “Just in case,” she said with a small smile and set it in front of me before taking her seat again.

  She turned the white cup in her hands several times and her eyes tightened. “Randy went camping with his friends when he was fifteen. They were older than him and I shouldn't have let him go, but Roger said he just wanted to be one of the boys, so I let him.” She gave a half smile. “We spent the day buying camping equipment, a zero degree sleeping bag, a tent, thermal underwear, and a dutch oven. I went overboard seeing how it was the middle of summer and ninety degrees even at night, but he was our only son and we wanted him to be prepared.”

  She frowned into her coffee. “When we got the call, I didn't understand what the officer was saying. All I could make out was that something had happened at the campsite. I hung up the phone and I asked Jenny, the neighbor girl, to watch Nikki who was seven at the time, and we rushed over. Camp Mead was only an hour from our house, and Randy made it in half that. Cops were everywhere when we arrived, and the other kids' parents got there soon after us.”

  She took a steeling breath. “The cops tried to keep us away, but it was our son and we got past them. There was blood everywhere. Body parts they hadn't collected yet were strewn around like hunks of firewood.” She closed her eyes and rubbed them as if to chase away the images.

  “They said it was wild animals, but Roger minored in Zoology and knew that an animal in its right mind wouldn't attack and kill so many humans like that, and the extent of damage done to so many boys meant either more than one animal had been working together or the animal was something Roger hadn't studied. We pressed the cops, but they wouldn't tell us anything. The other boys' parents more or less accepted what had happened, held their funerals, and let it drop, but we couldn't.” She looked at me through haunted eyes. “I couldn't. We started to research mass killings and body mutilation. At first, it was like we were at a dead end before we began, but then we started to find things, references to similar situations hushed like ours. We dug deeper, found out about werewolves, and then it was only a matter of time before the Hunters contacted us.”

  “Hunters that hunted werewolves?” Roger had mentioned it, but all the Hunters I knew were on the werewolves' side, so it was hard to imagine.

  She nodded. “Hunters started out like us, parents, husbands, wives, friends who had lost someone or known someone hurt or killed by werewolves. They became organized, started tracking the packs and systematically wiping them out regardless of whether the werewolves were trying to live peacefully in society.” She tipped her head toward the house next door. “Like Jaze and his mom.”

  A smile touched the corners of her lips. “When they moved in, I thought nothing of it. I didn't know they were werewolves and Jaze kept pretty much to himself as far as I knew. That is, until the Alpha werewolf here who had been dating our daughter tried to kill her,” she glanced at me, her eyes apologetic. “Roger and I set her up because we were trying to figure out who was killing off the Alphas around here. Anyway, the Alpha sent his pack after Nikki and Jaze fought them off; it nearly cost him his life.”

  She took a sip of coffee, then grimaced. “Cold. Can't stand cold coffee.” She rose, dumped the contents in the sink, then poured a fresh cup. “Want some?” When I shook my head, she sat back down with her cup. “Jaze helped us see that not all werewolves are bad. He organized the peace between the Hunters and werewolves. He may be young, but he's got a good head on his shoulders.”

  I thought about her words for a minute. “Did you ever find the werewolf who killed Randy?”

  She gave a small shrug. “Don't know, really. Never found one that killed with the same pattern, but as a whole, the Hunters wiped out so many it's a wonder werewolves survived at all.”

  I took a sip of the coffee, fought down my own grimace and remembered why I liked the smell better than the taste, and rose. “I'd better get back to Rafe.”

  “He won't wake for another day or so if he's lucky,” Meg said gently. “It's fifty-fifty whether he'll wake up at all at this point.” I bit my lower lip to keep it from giving away how deeply her words tore into my heart; she shook her head apologetically. “After the incident with the cops, I believe in telling things straight out. I hope I'm not too blunt.”

  I shook my head, but my heart felt heavy. “Not at all. I appreciate you telling me. Rafe's strong. If he can't make it, nobody could.”

  I went back to the operating room, but Rafe hadn't moved. I ran a hand through his dark gray fur and prayed that he would come back to me. I sat down and listened to his heartbeat, wondering if it was helping him heal or pouring more blood into the soaked bandages along his stomach and back.

  ***

  I couldn’t take the waiting any longer and walked through the quiet house to the front door. A soft night breeze rushed in to tangle through my hair and I ran my fingers through it to push it back, catching in snarls and rats from our hasty flight. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the humid air, different from the crisp clean scent of the forest but welcoming with its smells of humanity.

  Footsteps sounded behind me and I turned to find Meg near the kitchen door. “You need a break. I’ll watch over him.”

  “Are you sure?” Guilt flooded me at the need to feel the fresh air against my face, but the urge to phase had grown stronger and I couldn’t fight it anymore.

  “Definitely,” Meg replied. “Go for a run.” She turned to go down the hallway, then paused. “You might want to stop by Jaze’s. I’ll bet some of the others would like to get out, and you don’t want to get lost in a strange city.”

  “Thanks,” I said. The thought of not running alone was a welcome one.

  I crossed the lawn and paused when the door opened and a girl stepped out. The scent of mint and apricot touched the air and I recognized Nikki, Jaze’s girlfriend, followed by Taye’s sunlight and flower aroma. Taye paused at the door and peered out into the night. “Colleen?”

  Nerves fluttered in my stomach and I fought back a weak laugh. “I, uh, need to go for a run and was wondering if anyone wanted to join me.”

  “Of course,” Taye replied. She smiled warmly and turned back to the door. “Let me see if anyone else wants to go.”

  She disappeared inside and left Nikki and I alone. I remembered with embarrassment that Nikki wasn’t a werewolf. “Sorry to, um-“

  “Don’t worry about it,” Nikki replied with a laugh, saving me from the rest of my apology. “I’ve gotten used to it with Jaze. You’ll be safer with them anyway.”

  “Safer?” I pressed. Concern touched the edges of my mind.

  She let out a small sigh and nodded. “Life as a werewolf isn’t without its dangers, as you’ve se
en. Jaze works to protect everyone, but small bands of extremist Hunters, a few psycho scientists, and the rare individuals who feel werewolves should be exploited as monsters make life a bit more complicated. It’s safer not to run alone.”

  A shudder ran through my skin and I cringed. I didn’t want to phase in the street. Nikki’s blue eyes softened. “Come inside. You can phase in Jaze’s room.”

  Gratitude swept through me and I followed her quickly into the house. The scent of home-cooked food, clean laundry, werewolves, and humans filled my nose, but I was grateful no one was in sight as I followed Nikki up a set of stairs. “Are you sure Jaze won’t mind?” I asked as another shudder traveled up my spine.

  “Jaze, Jet, and Mouse left on a call,” she replied. She pushed open the door at the end and gestured that I was welcome to step inside.

  “A call?”

  She nodded. “They have their work cut out for them since finding a group of werewolf fighting rings down south. They’re still working on rehab for the werewolves pulled from Dr. Tannin’s labs, and there’s some trouble between werewolves and Hunters in the eastern states.” She sighed and a touch of sadness sounded in her voice when she continued, “It’s a full time job getting everyone back to their packs in safety, or finding new packs for those who don’t remember where they’re from.”

  Charts and maps filled the walls of the room I stepped into. A twin bed sat in one corner and a huge desk covered in organized piles of papers around a computer occupied the far wall below the window. It had obviously once been the master bedroom, but Mrs. Carso’s scent was faded and Jaze’s was dominant in the room. I wondered how long ago she had turned it over to meet the needs of the werewolves he helped.

  “It’s got to be hard dealing with all of this,” I said, turning back to Nikki.

  She let out a small breath and nodded. “It is, but it’s worth it. Jaze works so hard, and he cares so much about the werewolves and Hunters. It’s amazing what he’s been able to accomplish.”