Dana sagged against the door. “That was… self-defense. They were going to shoot me. They already shot Cole. I thought he was dead. And he might still die if he doesn’t get antibiotics, so can you please get a doctor?”
“You were eating people, lady. You think we’re going to treat you like a queen, you got another thing coming.”
This was not the way rogues were treated in the eastern regional SF. Rogues were treated like people with a sickness. They weren’t treated like—
And okay, sure, Dana wasn’t a rogue. Maybe she’d lost it for a second back there with those assholes, but god damn it, they’d deserved it, and she—
“Just keep quiet. Someone’ll be around to bring you food in a couple of hours.” Footsteps moved away from the door, out of earshot.
Dana sank down to the floor.
“Dana?” Cole mumbled.
She ran back over to him. “Cole. Jesus, hang on.”
His eyes fluttered open. “Told you to leave me. I’m no good for you, Dana.”
“Shut up,” she said. “Let’s not think about that. Here, we should dress you.” She picked up the other jumpsuit. Clothing Cole would give him dignity, even if they didn’t care that he was lying here, dying.
God, she didn’t want Cole to die.
He let her dress him. He even tried to help, but he wasn’t very good at that. He seemed out of it. Whenever he moved, it caused him a lot of pain. But she zipped him into his jumpsuit, and she sat down on the bench. She had him rest his head in her lap, and she stroked his hair, murmuring soft reassurances to him.
He struggled to sit up. “We should get out of here.”
She stopped him. “No, you need to rest, Cole. Rest, and try to heal.” She didn’t think that sleep was going to help an infection, but it couldn’t hurt. He needed antibiotics. It was maddening knowing that there was something out there that would help him and that no one had given it to him. Hadn’t they noticed something was wrong when they bandaged him?
“Where are we?” he mumbled.
“I don’t really know,” she said. “I think we’re in the southwest SF.”
His eyes popped open. “SF? No. No, I won’t let them lock me up again.” He tried to move again, then cried out at the pain.
“Rest, Cole,” she told him.
“But—”
“You’re in no position to go anywhere.”
He groaned. But he closed his eyes again.
Eventually, he fell asleep, and she stayed there with him, trying to monitor him, to see if he was getting worse.
A long time passed.
The woman at the door had claimed that someone would come to feed them, but no one did. There wasn’t any natural light inside the cell, but Dana thought it might have been longer than a day. It seemed like an interminable period, at any rate.
She couldn’t be sure, but she thought Cole’s temperature was rising. Maybe that was good. Maybe it meant that the fever would cook the infection right out of him, and that he’d end up fine. Or maybe it would cook him and kill him. She knew it was dangerous if fevers got too high, but she had no way of knowing how high Cole’s was.
When he started to get delirious, she figured it was pretty high.
His eyes would snap open, and he would talk to her, but he didn’t know who she was.
“Tasha?” he would say. “I didn’t mean it. Please, I didn’t mean it.”
Dana thought she remembered who Tasha was. Cole had told her all about that episode of his adolescence. Tasha was the girl that Cole had killed. His father had forced him to do it, because he wouldn’t allow anyone to have the girls on the farm. Cole had been forced to kill her as a lesson.
Dana would peer down at him, whisper lies to him to make him feel better. “You didn’t do anything, Cole. We got away.”
“What? No, Tasha, I hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me. We ran, Cole. We ran, and we got away. You never hurt anyone.”
“I didn’t?”
“No.”
And then he would seem relieved. He would go back to sleep for a while.
Once he sat straight up, his eyes wild. He pointed at Dana. “The catwomen are going to take over the castle.”
That was just silly enough to make her giggle.
“It’s not funny,” he said. “We’re all in terrible danger.”
She made him lie back down. “No, the catwomen aren’t coming, Cole. Calm down.”
Eventually, she fell asleep slumped against the wall, Cole’s head in her lap. His body was blazing hot.
She woke in the middle of the night to Cole’s mumbling her name. “Dana. Dana? Dana!”
“What, Cole?” she said. “I’m here.”
“Good,” he sighed. “I thought Enoch killed you. If he did, I was going to kill him and kill myself.”
“Cole, I’m fine.”
He groaned. “I love you.”
She stiffened. He’d never said those words. He was raving and delirious, and he’d also talked about catwomen, so she wasn’t sure how much weight the words carried. But it shocked her, even so.
He opened his eyes. “You make me better, you know? I know I don’t make you better, but you make me… you make me real.”
She bit her lip. “You’re already real, Cole.”
“I’m bad,” he said. “I’m a bad man.”
“Just go back to sleep.” She was choking up.
He did, although fitfully. He would toss and turn. Then moan when it hurt to move, because of the gunshot in his side.
And eventually… she fell asleep again too.
* * *
They didn’t bring food until long after Dana had woken up. Cole seemed the same as he had been—no better, no worse. He wasn’t mumbling much in his sleep anymore, but he was still very feverish. His wound had started bleeding again, and she wondered if that would help with the infection or not. Whatever the case, his bandage was hardly doing any good now.
She hunted around for something else to use, but there was nothing in the cell. No toilet paper, no paper towels.
Then the food came.
They slid it in through a slot in the door, and when Dana saw it, she got up and ran over.
“Hello?”
“Eat up,” said a voice from outside. “I’ll be back to interview you soon, okay?”
“I need help,” she said.
“We’re going to help you,” said the voice. “I’m sorry no one’s been by, but we’re pretty short staffed and—”
“The man with me. He’s sick. His wound is infected. He’s got a fever. Please, he needs medical help.”
Silence from outside the door.
Dana squeezed her eyes shut. This person wasn’t going to believe her either, was he?
But then there was a jingle of keys. “Step away from the door, all right?”
She moved back and the door opened.
A man walked in. He was young—probably in his early twenties. He was wearing slacks and a tie, but no jacket. He had his tranq gun out.
Dana held up her arms. “Just help him. Please.”
The man shut the door of the cell and went over to Cole. He put his hand to Cole’s head. Then he looked back at Dana, furrowing his brow. “You know, I gotta say, this whole case has been crazy. And we generally don’t have anyone working in here besides at a full moon, so you really caught us off guard. How did he get shot?”
“The men. They shot him in wolf form.” She shook her head. “But is that important right now? He needs antibiotics.”
“No, you’re right.” The man dragged a hand over his face. “Look, I’ll see what I can do, okay?”
“What you can do? Call a fucking doctor. Call a fucking ambulance. He needs to go to the hospital.”
The man sighed. “They let dying werewolves into hospitals where you’re from?”
“Well…” Dana bit her lip. She guessed usually it wasn’t something that wolves generally mentioned when they needed a hospital stay. She ce
rtainly hadn’t made a big deal out of it when she was delivering Piper. And most wolves stayed relatively healthy. They fought off colds and minor wounds fairly easily. “You’re saying that if you tell the ambulance to come to the SF, they won’t come.”
“Most likely not.”
She dragged a hand over her face. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“Like I said, I’ll see what I can do.” And then he was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Finally, the man returned, and he brought with him a portly, elderly man who huffed and puffed into the cell, carrying a black bag.
The older man made his way over to Cole. Businesslike, he unzipped Cole’s jumpsuit. He made a face and turned back to the other man. “Christ on a cracker, Lenny, did they even clean this out?”
“I wasn’t here,” said Lenny, folding his arms over his chest. “Jim and I picked these two up, and then the minute we dropped them off, I had to go straight back to work, so I didn’t see any of it.”
Dana’s jaw dropped. “You don’t work here?”
Lenny eyed her. “Oh, I work here, lady, but I don’t get paid for working here.”
“But… this is the SF.” Dana was shocked.
“You,” said the elderly man, pointing at Dana, “put a sock in it.” He turned back to Lenny. “Well, I’ll do what I can. He doesn’t look good. He should go to a hospital.”
“That’s what I said,” said Dana.
The elderly man glared at her.
“You’re a doctor, Mitch,” said Lenny. “Do something.”
Mitch shook his head. He went back to Cole. “Aw, hell, Lenny, they didn’t even take the bullet out. I can’t do this here. He’s got to at least come to the office.”
“Can you do that?” said Lenny.
“If you get Jim to help me move him,” said Mitch.
Lenny sighed. “Right, well, I’ll try. I don’t even know where he is.”
“I’ll help you move him,” said Dana.
“Nice try,” said Lenny. “You’re not getting out of here that easy. No, you’re with me. I got paperwork to fill out on you.”
“I won’t try to get out,” said Dana. “I promise. I just want him to be… okay.” She thought she might start crying again.
Lenny surveyed her. “Yeah, okay. I believe you. So, you stay put, right?”
She nodded.
Lenny looked at Mitch. “I’ll help you get him out of here.”
Lenny and Mitch both left the cell. Dana stayed huddled in a corner when they came back with a stretcher. They loaded Cole onto it. Cole didn’t seem to notice except for crying out in his sleep when they picked him up. It probably hurt a lot. Dana cringed.
They wheeled Cole out, and Dana was alone.
She waited for some time, and then Lenny came back.
He swung open the door. “Come on, we got paperwork.”
She went to the door. “Where did you take Cole?”
“Mitch’s office. He’s a veterinarian, and he’s the only guy around these parts who’ll work on wolves. If he can save your boyfriend, he will.”
“Veterinarian?” Dana whispered. She was in an alternate universe. How was this the SF? She’d always known that the branches out here had less staff, but she had no idea that they were so much different.
“I know it’s a shock,” said Lenny. “But you might as well get used to it. You’re a werewolf now, and this is how you’re going to be treated.”
She shook her head. Back in her world, she was cut off from people who weren’t wolves. She knew that wolves were hated and feared, but she almost never had to deal with it, due to her segregated life. The most that she’d ever interacted with humans was the police officers at rogue wolf attack scenes. She’d always thought they were bigoted and unfair, but now she was beginning to realize they were downright progressive.
“Come on.” Lenny gestured with his head.
She followed him down the hallway. They went around a corner, through a set of doors, and then Lenny was opening the door to another room. She stepped inside. It was an office, but it was cramped and messy. There was a crack in the ceiling.
“This is ridiculous,” she said. “I had no idea it was like this out here.”
“Out here?” Lenny sat down at his desk and motioned for her to sit in front of him. “You not from these parts?”
“No.” She sat down. “Actually, there’s something you need to do. You need to contact the SF branch in Pennsylvania and tell them that I’m here.”
He chuckled. “Oh, Mabel told me about you claiming you work for the SF. That’s funny.”
“It’s not funny, it’s true,” she said. “My name’s Dana Gray. Actually, I don’t really work there anymore, but my husband does, and I used to work there. But that’s not the important thing. You need to tell them that Enoch is in Arkansas, or at least he was—”
“Look, you’re not going to make this story fly.”
“I swear I’m not lying to you.” Jesus, this was frustrating. “Listen, call my husband—”
“That’s not your husband with Mitch?”
“No, that’s Cole,” she said. “His name’s Cole Randall.”
Lenny started laughing. “Cole Randall? Right, and you’re Dana Gray. Look, lady, if you’re going to say that you work for the SF back east, pick someone whose name has not been splashed all over the media. And get your story straight. Everybody knows Cole Randall nearly killed Dana Gray. There’s no way they’d be running around together, and there’s no way she’d care if he was dying. So, just drop it.”
She let out a little noise of shock. “If you know who I am, then you know I’m telling the truth. There were pictures in the papers.”
“Yeah, you kinda do look like her. She’s hotter than you, but—”
“Hotter?” She couldn’t believe this. “Look, those pictures were taken years ago. I’ve aged a little. I had a baby. I am Dana Gray.”
Lenny chuckled. “Seriously. Drop it.”
She folded her arms over her chest.
Lenny started going through papers on his desk. “So, anyway, we’ll start over. And I’m going to cut you some slack, because you’ve been through hell lately with your boyfriend and all. Plus, I’m really sorry that no one was here with you guys yesterday. We mostly run on volunteers, and I know you guys didn’t get fed, and I realize that’s not cool. I would have come if someone had called me, but no one did, and—”
“Volunteers? Seriously? But I know that there’s money earmarked for this branch. I mean, they give more money to the eastern, southern, and western branches because there’s a higher population, and I realize you guys don’t get as much, but there’s no reason not to have a staff. I don’t believe this.”
Lenny straightened up a stack of papers by tapping them against his desk. “Well, we don’t get a lot of action out here. I think last year we had… maybe ten rogues total, and five of them were on one full moon. Whole fucking football team in this high school were all screwing some—” He cleared his throat. “Never mind. Point is, we get by out here. You guys are definitely throwing us for a loop though. It’s not even the full moon, and I don’t understand what happened. So, maybe we could talk about that?”
She sighed. “I know you don’t believe me, but the thing is, I’m out here because there’s a danger to the SF. The people who attacked the western branch are going to attack again. And I know where they are, at least where they were a few days ago, and I know when they plan to attack. Can’t you just call the SF in Pennsylvania and pass that message on?”
“I thought we were going to drop this.”
“What would it hurt to call? I mean, you can tell them you think I’m crazy, but just ask for Ursula King and tell her that Enoch’s in Arkansas and that they plan to attack the first Wednesday of next month. Please?”
He rubbed his forehead. “Everybody knows that attack out west was isolated.”
“No, they don’t.”
“The police in California
made arrests.”
What? When had this happened? “Well, they arrested the wrong people. Please, Lenny, it’s just a phone call.”
He cleared his throat and picked up his pen. “I’m going to start the interview, okay? Can you please describe for me the incident that brought you here?”
“Please call them.”
He glared at her. “Was this your first shift, ma’am?”
“No, it wasn’t my first shift. That’s why it didn’t happen on a full moon. I can shift whenever I want, okay? Because I’m Dana Gray, and I need you to call—”
“Stop it.” He shook his head at her. “Just try and tell me the truth, please. Now, we got a call saying some guys had accidentally shot a werewolf. There were no human casualties, so we weren’t very concerned. But then when we get there, we find you chowing down.”
“They threatened to shoot me,” said Dana. “It was self-defense.”
“You were a wolf. Even if they had threatened you, you wouldn’t remember it.”
“No, I would have,” she said. “Because I can remember things from when I shift. But that doesn’t even matter, because they threatened me when I was in human form. So, I shifted, and I stopped them from killing me.”
Lenny set down his pen. “So, not only are you Dana Gray, you’re also superwolf?”
“What?”
“I’ve been a werewolf since I was fourteen years old, ma’am. Now, I happen to know that there are no wolves that shift at will, and there are no wolves who know what’s going on while they’re shifted.”
“But there are,” said Dana. “There’s me, and there’s Cole. And my husband has shifted at will too. My old boss King said that probably anyone who goes through the tracker training at the SF can probably do it, it’s just that no one tries. I’m sorry, Lenny. I realize you have a terrible office here and no funding. But it’s not my fault that you’re ignorant of—”
“Now you’re calling me names.”
“Would you just fucking call the eastern branch? Would you please do that?”
He got up. “I’m going to have to take you back to the cell. You’re not cooperating, and—”
“Goddamn it, I’ll prove it to you.” She started to unzip her jumpsuit.
Moon Dance Page 16
