He walked around the chair and allowed himself to sink into it. Waves of heat from the fire washed over him, but unlike before, it wasn’t unbearable. It was comforting. He leaned his head back and gazed up at the stars, fully aware of the stacks in the study behind him. They piled higher and higher without a roof to confine them. Somehow, he didn’t mind that they might touch the stars.
When he lowered his gaze, golden eyes appeared to him through the darkness, beyond the fire. He knew they were the eyes of the wolf, and smiled in invitation. Ever so slowly, the wolf approached, but Vincent could tell something was wrong by the way it limped. It only stopped hobbling toward him once it reached the fire. There it collapsed onto a bed of grass, curling up into a ball.
“Please,” Vincent found himself pleading to it. “Don’t give up. I need you.”
The words were slurred, but somehow, he knew the wolf understood. It stared at him with pity. Even the simple gaze connecting them was enough to lend Vincent strength. The scene around him faded away, replaced by a disorienting fog.
A ceiling was shaking above him. The longer he blinked up at it, the more he realized it wasn’t the ceiling, but him. He was shaking under a blanket. But it was so hot. It didn’t make any sense.
A weight settled on the bed beside him. Something blissfully cold was placed on his forehead. Vincent tried to speak, but all that escaped was a pathetic moan of confusion and pain. Had he been dreaming?
Someone murmured, “You’re okay, man. You’re going to be okay. Shhh.”
He didn’t immediately recognize the voice. He must have been in the hospital.
Maria, he tried to say, Call my wife, Maria. She’ll be worried about me.
The man didn’t understand his words. Didn’t move from his side. Vincent tried to push him away, to make him understand, but his arms were too weak. If he could get out of bed, he could find a phone himself.
Something stopped him when he tried to push the blankets off. When he tried to sit up, hands gripped his shoulders, guiding him back down.
“No,” he finally gurgled. He needed to get up. He wanted to ask what happened to him and why fire licked his chest. There was no study around them and no field of grass, so where was the fire coming from? He decided that if a fire could burn between the civilized and primal in his dream, it might also burn between the lucid and incoherent here. For he was both, yet neither.
Sweat trailed down his face. It soaked the pillow beneath his head, but it wasn’t enough. The air awaiting him deep within the forest would cool him down. He knew it would. Ice crystals cast in shadow had already nested against the hollows of roots. Burrows left by foxes and bears lay vacant, in need of a warm body to cradle through the night. The earth would lull him to sleep with the natural aromas of soil and pine, chasing away the fire dancing over his chest.
He shifted restlessly. Wherever he was, the blankets pressing him down were too binding. They swaddled him as if he was a child. But they wouldn’t suffocate the fire. Only him. The fire would remain, burning through the lives of everyone around him.
“Just take it easy,” he heard. He tried to free his arms in response, plainly demonstrating why he couldn’t relax, couldn’t breathe. “Shhh. It’s all right. Just go to sleep.”
Something wet was lifted from his forehead. A hand pushed his hair back from where it clung to his face.
Vincent squinted up at the man beside him, unable to keep his eyes open much longer. He couldn’t make out a face. The unfamiliarity was frightening. A growl rose in his throat, and the hand pushing his hair back paused.
“Stop.” The scolding tone reminded him of the one his father used. “None of that.”
As a cool weight settled on his forehead once more, the growl quieted to a whine. But the fear remained. Why couldn’t this man tell him anything? Something told him that he meant no harm, but there was an air of danger about him. Vincent needed to know what it was. His instincts needed to know.
Something pressed against his lips. Water trickled over his chin, running down his neck. It made him shudder. The heat surrounding him disappeared, and his teeth chattered more violently. It was suddenly so cold. He yearned to have the fire back.
“Drink.”
His lips immediately parted, though he wasn’t certain why. The water tasted bitter, like it had been sitting in the pipes too long. It soothed his scratchy throat. He was only allowed two or three sips before it was taken away, but he couldn’t swallow any more. The man who offered it to him seemed to know that.
A wave of vertigo washed over him. Vincent found that peculiar, as he was already on his back.
“Sorry about the sedative,” he heard. “I don’t like slipping people drugs, but something tells me I’d like a delirious werewolf even less. I’ll do my best to keep your fever down. Hopefully it’s a result of your injuries. Those should heal pretty quickly once Anna returns with the antidote…”
The blanket was pulled out from under him and away from his chest, while the man continued to speak in soothing tones.
Vincent couldn’t make out the words anymore, but it didn’t matter. He was cold and he wanted the blanket back. Ten more, even. He wanted the weight of them to press him down.
His legs were heavy and uncooperative as he turned onto his side and tried to curl into a ball. The wolf had done so with certainty. He could do the same.
Except he couldn’t, because a bolt of pain made him cry out. The voice above him sounded less than pleased, berating him with words he couldn’t understand. Hands straightened his legs by pushing his knees down, and then gently rolled him onto his back once more.
Fingers inspected his chest with a feather-light touch. He snarled in warning and tried to arch backwards, unwilling to experience pain again. It still lingered, doing nothing to quell the nausea in his gut. But the drugs in his system prevented him from moving very far. There was only a creak from a worn spring when he shifted.
“Just let me cool you down. Don’t fight me.”
Understanding dawned. Vincent waited for the stranger to say something else he might understand, too occupied to care about whatever trailed over his shoulders, neck, and arms. It left behind a wake of cold air, and he shivered.
One of his hands came up, weakly grabbing the man’s wrist to stop him. The ministrations briefly paused, there was a sigh, and then his hand was guided back down to his side.
“Should have known you’d fight the sedative, tooth and nail,” the man muttered. He stood and shuffled away.
Vincent couldn’t be certain how much time passed. He heard rushing water and sloshing. The swift friction between terrycloth and metal. When the footsteps returned, the blanket was pulled away from him entirely.
“Sorry about this.”
Fingers made quick work of unbuttoning his jeans. There was something around one of his thighs that made pulling the jeans off difficult. It wasn’t like he didn’t spend half his time in the buff anyway. The real question was–
His eyes flew open, shoulders rising in alarm when something heavy and wet covered his uninjured leg.
“Stay down, Vincent.” Hands pressed his shoulders to the mattress.
He blearily gazed around, suddenly aware that he was in danger, yet unable to do anything about it. He searched his mind for answers. But his thoughts were scrambled, out of order. Something about silver and the man leaning over him were connected. Bile rose in his throat, but he swallowed hard.
Those eyes. He recognized those eyes.
Another drenched towel was placed over his hips. Then another, over his left arm.
“Stop,” he finally slurred, distracted. “I don’t– I’m not hot.”
There was a soft chuckle. “Tell it to the thermometer, man. You’re burning up and I had to try something that would keep your stitches dry.”
A hand patted his shoulder.
Just leave me alone, he wanted to say.
But the pull of the sedative overpowered him, and he sank into oblivion.
Chapter Nine
Anna removed her helmet as she dismounted her motorcycle. She was careful to park three blocks from the hospital to avoid immediate detection. It wasn’t exactly an alley – there were no alleys in a town this small – but the space between an empty dumpster and the fire station would do.
Before she set out on foot, she opened the motorcycle’s top-box and pulled out a few… specialty items. Another pistol in a thigh holster. Silver throwing stars. And a single grenade, which she’d never had occasion to use, but today was as good as any other day.
Sometimes, she really loved this job.
Anna lightly kissed her fingertips before pressing them to the gas tank. It was something she did whenever she left her motorcycle, lest she never return. Logan never understood it.
He never understood a lot of things.
Hand resting on the gun at her hip, Anna began closing in on the hospital. She darted between cars, staying out of sight as much as possible. It wasn’t easy in broad daylight.
Logan’s words echoed in her memory. This town is full of werewolves.
She’d heard of sanctuaries before, but she’d never had the desire to invade one. Her mentor frequently accused her of being reckless, and maybe he was right, but she wasn’t stupid. Taking out a single werewolf and taking out a pack or more were two different things.
On the plus side – she whipped out her gun – there was no need for the cloak and dagger routine. And since there was a full moon last night, most of the townsfolk should be sleeping in their homes like good little werewolves.
If they weren’t, well…
She swallowed. Game over.
There was a back door to the hospital that appeared rather harmless. It might have been a service entrance. She looked up at the parking lot cameras as she approached it, cursing Logan for getting her into this mess. It would be stealthier to stand there with a bullhorn and demand the antidote.
But as she approached the door and picked the lock, no cars moved in. No one grabbed her from behind. When she heard the click of the lock submitting, Anna carefully opened the door. Her eyes scanned the hallway for movement.
Nothing.
Instead of putting her at ease, the lack of security worried her. It was too quiet. She’d been prepared to fight her way in and out, guns blazing. Where was everyone? Surely they couldn’t all be sleeping.
Lab, she reminded herself. Find the lab.
The basement might also contain vials of antidote, but it was more likely for the lab to contain valuable research as well. The antidote was her primary concern, but genetic profiles, chemical compositions, and test results were as good as gold. Any of it would help the Society create weapons and bullets made from antidote-resistant silver.
Moving down the hall, Anna found herself hoping for a wall map. Perhaps with a “You Are Here” marker. But what could she expect? She’d no more find a map than arrows painted on the floor.
The werewolf at the motel said the lab was on the first floor. It wouldn’t be in receiving or in the surrounding patient rooms, which meant… She took a left at the end of the hall.
The odor of antiseptic and bleach was overpowering. It grew stronger as she ventured farther down the corridor, burning in her nose.
She fell back into the closest room when a flash of blue scrubs caught her eye. Through the blinds, she watched a nurse cross the far end of the corridor.
It wasn’t exactly the lead of all leads, but it was better than nothing.
Anna allowed the woman take a right before following her, always one turn behind. Trailing after a werewolf without being detected was damn near impossible. As if their inhuman hearing and sense of smell weren’t enough, their natural instincts were far more sensitive than those of any human.
She relied on her prowler training to move as silently as possible, steadying her breaths.
Like a ninja, she heard Logan’s teasing voice in her head.
“Were we able to track the signal?” a man distantly asked.
Anna held her breath, freezing in place. There wasn’t a room nearby. She was left standing out in the open. If someone turned the corner, they would see her.
“The prowler never radioed the Society a second time,” a woman answered. “The communications center doesn’t know if it’s because he’s ignorant of the situation or unable to call for help.”
“We’ll need more information on the matter before tonight.”
“Yes, doctor.”
Papers shifted and a file drawer opened. They must be standing at a nurse’s station.
“What of the antidote?” the woman asked. “Did we receive confirmation?”
“It’s being moved to the new location, yes. A truck picked it up an hour ago.”
“I assume you retained enough to keep your pet alive?”
There was a warning growl. Any hope that these two weren’t werewolves disappeared instantly.
“Vincent isn’t a pet.” The doctor hissed. “He’s part of our family, whether he wants to be or not.” Pause. “To answer your question, yes, I managed to procure a dose or two. Will I disclose the location to you? No. Your manner toward him is far too cold.”
She ignored his observation. “I assume you’ll want him to move with us.”
“Of course. That affair is already being resolved.”
The silence that followed was only broken by the occasional shifting of files. Anna backed away, intending to return to the motel and inform Logan of this move. If the pack planned to invade another town, they might be forced to radio the Society, risks be damned. Lives would be at stake either way.
“Well then, I’ve given the lab files an acid bath. If that’s all, I think I’ll go home and rest up for tonight’s City Hall meeting,” the woman said. “Our last, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“Usual time?”
“Eleven, sharp. We should be on the move by midnight.”
“Thank goodness. I never could stand the ambiance around here…”
Anna didn’t wait for the woman to finish. She continued backing away until she rounded the corner, using their conversation to cover her footsteps. Then she made haste through the nearest exit door. Though she wanted to run like hell, she forced herself to remain cautious as she returned to her motorcycle.
A meeting. In City Hall, tonight. It would be the perfect opportunity to kick some werewolf ass. Their only opportunity, if she overheard correctly. They might never have another chance to gain the upper hand on an entire sanctuary.
Any pity she felt for the werewolf at the motel was overshadowed by a rush of excitement. Logan wouldn’t be happy to learn the antidote was mostly gone, but he would be thrilled to learn about the meeting. It was their chance to prove their worth to the Society.
Rounding the dumpster, she was pleased to find her motorcycle right where she left it.
“Hey, honey,” she whispered affectionately.
According to her watch, it was almost noon. They had less than eleven hours to come up with a plan.
Anna mounted her motorcycle and let her head fall back. No pressure or anything. Although… Her eyes shifted to the fire station beside her.
That could work.
The fire station was bound to contain heavy duty equipment. Chains, locks, controlled accelerant.
Some people might think it was frightening how Anna began to tingle in certain places, but she couldn’t help it. Killing werewolves was hot. And it was about to get even hotter.
There were a few errands she needed to run before showtime. Rule number one was to conduct reconnaissance whenever possible, which meant her first stop would be City Hall. She needed to learn the building layout and find points of escape to seal them. Most importantly, she had to do it now, so her scent faded before nightfall.
It briefly crossed her mind that someone might be watching the building, or even inside… but immediately before a big move, everyone was more likely asleep. With a potential ki
ll this big, she didn’t have the luxury of playing it safe.
Anna cracked a smile as she donned her helmet. Her only obstacle now was finding City Hall. In a town as small as Pinechester, it should be easier than finding the nearest gas station. She’d begin her search with main street. Park a block away. Get in and get out before darkness fell.
Then before she returned to the motel, she’d break into the fire station and scrounge what goodies they’d need. It might take hours to organize what they’d need, but it would be worth it.
Heavy metal blared in her helmet speakers as she pulled away from the dumpster. Tonight, every member of the pack would burn.
Chapter Ten
Logan paced at the foot of Vincent’s bed. He struggled to remain calm and breathe, but whenever he looked at the time or at Vincent, he began to worry all over again. Anna should have been back by now. And while Vincent’s fever had broken, he hadn’t opened his eyes for hours.
Fibers of the horrid orange-brown carpet gathered around his shoes as he paced. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Mental images of Anna’s potentially violent demise wouldn’t leave him be. They flashed before his eyes, over and over. If there was a way for her to die, he’d imagined it. The knot in his stomach tightened with each passing minute. His hands were restless, fingers interlacing behind his head and then dropping to his sides. He crossed his arms, only to uncross them a moment later. He needed a cigarette.
Between imagining Anna’s death and glancing at Vincent’s still form, he vowed never to play the role of helpless caretaker again. He belonged in the middle of the action. On the front lines.
Vincent groaned, turning his head on the pillow.
“You’re awake.” Logan moved to sit on the bed. He rested a hand on Vincent’s arm. “It’s okay. You’re through the worst of it.”
“What happened?” The words ran together as Vincent fought to open his eyes. “Feels like I was hit by a train.”
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