Blood Bound (31 page)

“Shh,” said Stefan ignoring the werewolves who were eyeing him with hungry eyes. “It'll settle down in a minute.”

He sat me down and put my head between my knees. His hands were still cold, like those of a corpse. Which he was.

“Breathe,” he said.

I couldn't help a hiccoughing laugh at having a dead man tell me to breathe.

“Mercy?” he asked.

I was saved from trying to explain why I was laughing because the outside doors were pulled open with a screech of bending metal.

Stefan turned to face this new threat, a werewolf on either side. Andre stood up as well. All of them kept me from seeing the doorway, but I could smell them.

Darryl and two others. The frightened child inside my heart, unappeased by Littleton's immolation, relaxed at last.

“You're late, Bran.” I told him as the light from the burning vampire flickered and died.

It wasn't the Marrok who answered me, but his second son, Charles. “I told Darryl he shouldn't speed. If the police hadn't pulled us over, we'd have been here ten minutes ago.”

Bran walked by the vampires as if they didn't exist. He touched Samuel and then Adam. “Charles has clothing for you,” he told them and they melted away into the darkness, presumably to change and get dressed. Bran's presence did as much to allow them to regain enough control to change back to human as Littleton's death had. His permanent death, I mean.

The dim light from outside backlit Bran, so it was difficult to see his face.

“You've been busy,” he said, his tone neutral.

“No choice,” I told him. “Did you read the papers I left for you.”
Do you know that all the villains aren't ashes?

“Yes,” Bran said, and something inside of me relaxed. He couldn't know which of the vampires was Andre—but he'd manage, I knew.

Uncaring of vampire dust—or whatever else of Littleton might be scattered about on the floor—Bran knelt in front of me so he could bend down and kiss my forehead.

“It was a damned stupid thing to do,” he said in a voice so soft as to be almost inaudible.

“I thought you couldn't make it here until morning,” I said.

“I hurried.” He put his hand on my shoulder.

“Ouch,” I said, sinking farther down on the floor.

“Samuel,” he called. “If you could manage to hurry a bit, I think you have a patient.”

My shoulder was only out of joint and Samuel put it back as gently as he could. It still hurt like the blazes. I shuddered and shook, and managed not to throw up on anyone, while Adam, his voice harsh with barely controlled rage, told everyone what had happened after Andre and I showed up.

Andre seemed stunned by Littleton's death. Stefan knelt beside him with a hand on his shoulder and a wary eye on all the wolves stalking around.

I waited until I was sure I could talk without sounding too shaky—and until Adam was finished speaking. Then I looked at Stefan and said, “Andre is the one who made Littleton.”

Andre looked at me in shock, then threw his weight forward—I don't know if he'd have attacked me, or just tried to run, but Stefan caught him. Before it turned into a real struggle, Charles and Darryl helped to hold him.

“I was going to ask if you were certain,” Stefan said, releasing Andre to the werewolves who were obviously in better shape to hold the other vampire. “But Andre has answered that question himself.”

“I have proof,” I told him.

“I would like to see it,” Stefan said. “If only to present to the Mistress. Right now, though, is there a cell phone I might use to call my seethe? As much as I appreciate your help, Adam, I think that it would be a bad thing to bring your wolves into the seethe right now while tempers are still uncertain.”

 

The vampires came and spirited Andre away. I had expected that Stefan would go with them, but he didn't. Samuel insisted on bringing me to the hospital, though Charles and Darryl took Ben, who was in worse shape than I was, to Adam's house in Darryl's car.

“How come I can't just go home?” I whined. My shoulder ached and I just wanted to go to my bedroom and pull my blankets over my head.

“Because you aren't a werewolf,” Stefan said. “If your ankle is broken, you need a cast.”

The werewolves who weren't driving (Adam and Samuel) gave him cold looks. Bran had brought Adam's SUV and being stuffed inside it with the three werewolves and the vampire was a new experience in testosterone. When Samuel and Adam had gotten into the back seat with me, Stefan had slipped into the front. Bran was continuing to ignore the vampire, so Stefan stayed.

The five of us staggered into the emergency room. The only one remotely respectable was Bran, and he was carrying me. It wasn't until we were under the intense lights of the hospital that I realized just how bad we looked. I was covered with blood, Stefan was covered in blood. His face was drawn and tired, though the expression on it was peaceful. I didn't want to know what I looked like.

Samuel, even in clean, fresh clothing, looked as though he'd spent a week on a wild binge and Adam…The nurse at the triage station took one look at Adam and hit the innocent-looking black button underneath her desk.

It wasn't the wear and tear that panicked her, but the look in his eyes. I know I was really glad that Bran was with us.

“It's all right, Elena.” Samuel managed a rough growl that only barely sounded human. “I'll take them in.”

She looked at him again and shock spread over her face. “Dr. Cornick?” She hadn't recognized him when we'd come in.

“Call the Kennewick police,” I told her. “Ask for Tony Montenegro. Tell him Mercy has some news for him if he can get his butt down here.”

Samuel would be questioned by the hospital administrators, I thought. I didn't know if he'd missed a shift or not, but they wouldn't overlook him coming in with this crew. Police business would cover his rump—and I thought that Tony might benefit from seeing that the werewolves had taken his concerns seriously. It would also let the wolves know they had allies among the police here. People who could be trusted. That was important if they were ever to integrate into the citizenry.

There were a few people in the waiting room and all of them stopped whatever they were doing to look at Adam. The smell of fear overpowered the scent of illness and blood. Even Bran stiffened a little under the flood of triggered scents.

Samuel strolled right through the room, ignoring the woman who bravely came up to us to get insurance information.

Bran paused before he followed Samuel through a pair of swinging doors. “Not to worry, my dear,” he told the woman gently. “Dr. Cornick will see to it that all the proper forms are filled out.”

 

Tony walked into the emergency room as if he'd been there a time or two before. He was wearing civilian clothes, jeans and T-shirt, but the cheery-faced young man with him was in uniform.

He strolled into my curtained cubicle and looked around. Samuel was off doing doctor stuff, but the others were all there. Stefan and I had scrubbed up. I was in one of those stupid hospital gowns, but Stefan's clothes were still covered with blood. Bran sat on the doctor's chair, slowly spinning it around, looking like a bored teenager. Like the people in the waiting room, Tony and his companion ignored Bran and watched Adam, who was leaning against a wall. Stefan was slumped in a corner and got a swift, assessing glance before the police both looked back at Adam.

“Tony, this is Adam Hauptman, we were talking about him just the other day. Adam, this is my friend Tony.” I didn't bother to introduce the others.

Tony's face froze and he stopped where he was. I guess he hadn't recognized Adam from his newspaper pictures until I'd used his name. Adam's publicity shot showed a conservative businessman. There was nothing conservative or businesslike about him tonight. Anger radiated off of him in waves even humans should be able to sense.

“Hey, John,” Tony said casually, after quickly looking away from the Alpha. I guess the information sheet that had gone out on werewolves had explained that it was not a good idea to have a staring contest with one. “Why don't you get both of us a cup of coffee.”

The other cop gave Tony a narrow-eyed look, but he only asked, “How long should I take?”

Tony glanced at me. I shrugged and instantly regretted it. “This won't take more than ten minutes.”

When the other cop had gone, Tony pulled the curtains closed. It didn't give us much privacy, but the cacophonous chatter of dozens of mysterious machines would mask whatever we had to say from human ears.

“You look like death warmed over,” he told me.

“It wasn't at the police station,” I told him, too tired for our usual teasing. “But it wasn't more than a half mile away.”

“You found it.”

“I killed it,” I said. “I think that you'll find the nightlife will calm down a little from here on out.”

Tony frowned. “It?”

“Yes.” Stefan's voice was weary. “Something that should never have been allowed to roam the streets. It was not murder, sir. It was self-defense.”

“Don't worry,” offered Bran meekly. “There isn't a body.” Only because he'd noticed Littleton's head lying around and we'd used Zee's medallion to get rid of it, too. I'd forgotten all about it. Presumably it wouldn't have done anything except scare the begeebers out of whoever found it—since the body was gone—but I was just as glad to have that last bit taken care of as well.

Tony looked at Bran more closely. “Do I want to ask who you all are?”

“No,” I told him.

“So why did you call me in?” Tony asked.

I opened my mouth to answer and Samuel pulled the curtains aside and stepped in, an X-ray in his hands.

“Dr. Cornick,” Tony greeted him like an old friend—I supposed that cops might see a lot of emergency room doctors. Then something about the wariness of everyone in the room clued him in.

“Samuel needs to have the shield of police business to hide behind,” I said before he could ask if Samuel was a werewolf, too.

Tony frowned, taking a careful look at the people in the room—avoiding eye contact. “All right,” he said slowly. “You're sure everything will get back to normal?”

I started to shrug, but nodded my head instead. “As normal as it gets.”

“Fine.” He looked at Samuel. “Tell me that you're not a danger to your patients.”

I waited anxiously for a smart-ass comment, but Samuel was tired, too. He only said, “I'm not a danger to my patients.”

“All right,” Tony said. “All right. Dr. Cornick, if anyone asks about this, just tell them it was a police matter you were helping in.” He took out his wallet and pulled out a card. “Give them my number if you need to.”

Samuel took the card. “Thank you.”

Then Tony turned back to Adam. “Mr. Hauptman,” he said. “Mercy tells me that I ought to speak with you first on matters concerning werewolves.”

Adam rubbed his face tiredly. It took him so long to speak that I worried. Finally he said, in an almost civil tone. “Yes. Did Mercy give you my number?”

“We didn't get that far.”

Adam collected himself and managed a small smile that made him look like a hungry tiger. Tony took a discreet step back. “I'm not carrying my cards tonight, but if you call my office, I'll instruct them to give you my cell phone number—or Mercy usually knows how to get in touch with me.”

 

My ankle was just sprained. Stefan left while Tony was talking with Adam. No one but me seemed to notice. I don't know if he did some vampire thing, or that no one else cared.

Adam wanted me to stay at his house. But he had half the local pack, part of the Montana pack, and Kyle staying at his house. I had no intention of joining the crowd.

After the others left for Adam's house, Samuel carried me into my battered trailer and started toward my bedroom, but I didn't want to sleep. Not ever.

“Can you take me to the office, instead?” I asked.

He still wasn't speaking much, but he obediently switched directions and took me into the tiny third bedroom that hummed with various bits of electronics.

He set me in the chair, then dropped to his knees in front of me. His hands were shaking when he closed them on my knees and pulled them apart so he could fill up the space between. His body was hot as he pressed himself against me and buried his face in my neck.

“I knew you'd come,” he whispered and the power of his wolf ruffled my hair as it rushed over me. “I was so worried. And then…and then the wolf came. Adam kept control—he tried to help me, but I was in a worse state than Ben, who had been there far longer. I am losing control of my wolf, I'm a danger to you. I told my father that as soon as you are well, I will return to Montana.”