Taken by the Others (14 page)

The young cop didn’t seem to know what to do. He didn’t move for a long moment, looking at me like I’d grown a second head, his mouth silently working as he tried and failed to find words to answer me. Annoyed, I shoved open the door, stepping out into the media frenzy. They didn’t touch me, but they followed me closely, and with so many shouted questions, they were drowning each other out. It was unnerving. Devon was trying to figure out how to open his door, but he was in the back of a police car–someone would have to let him out. I wasn’t worried about leaving him behind. I didn’t want anyone, least of all a trigger-happy White Hat or some rookie cop, following me upstairs to face a panicked Were.

When I ducked under the caution tape, the nearest cop snagged my arm. “Stay back! This is police business.”

I paused in my tracks, glaring at the guy. I knew he wasn’t responsible for the mess going on in my life, least of all for Chaz having a panic attack, but I was too pissed off to keep my temper in check. The world was out to make my life miserable, what with Max attacking me and Royce trying to turn me. Ugh, and was that gum stuck to the bottom of my sock?

I let the cop have it.

“Let me the fuck go, right the fuck now! You call this mess ‘police business'? I’m going to sue you assholes for gross negligence, unlawful entry, and deliberately aggravating my boyfriend into shifting outside the full moon! It’s your fault he’s shifted, not his! I’m going in there to clean up the mess you idiots made, so get your fucking hands off me!”

He didn’t seem to know what to say. The moment I said “sue,” he withdrew, letting go of my arm. A girl’s got to know what buttons to push to get her way, I always say.

One of the cops tending to the guy having a panic attack looked at me, surprise mixed with disgust. “Are you shitting me? You’re dating that furball?”

“He’s not a furball, he’s a man. It’s not his fault he grows fur during the full moon, so leave him the hell alone. Let me pass so I can calm him down.”

“Lady, you’ve got to be kidding. He’ll kill you. Tear you to shreds.”

I shook my head, raising my hand up to cover my eyes again. A headache started pulsing right between my eyes. It didn’t help when I noticed how quiet it had gotten. The people gathered at the edge of the caution tape were hanging on our every word, microphones and cameras pointed at us, catching it all on film. Perfect.

Through the haze of my anger, a wild thought crossed my mind. Maybe I could use this disaster to my advantage. I stood up straight and forced myself to appear as calm and rational as I didn’t feel, after a couple of deep breaths to steady my nerves.

“Look, he’s only shifted because he’s upset. He thinks I’m dead or kidnapped or whatever. Once he sees me, he’ll calm down. Even when shifted, most Weres have enough of their human intellect left to keep from doing anyone harm unless they’re deliberately provoked. Right now, I’d say he’s about as upset as he could possibly be. Shooting him won’t solve anything. Follow me up there if you want, but if he doesn’t get some reassurance, he’s not going to shift back anytime soon. Besides, why not avoid a potential bloodbath when the S.W.A.T. team gets here? I don’t think anyone wants that.”

O’Donnell put a hand on my shoulder to show his support. He was ashen pale, but determined. “I’ll go up there with her. I’ll take the heat if Sergeant Vega has a problem with it. He won’t be here for another twenty minutes. This can’t wait that long.”

The other cop shook his head. “You know I can’t let you do that. You can’t go in there.”

“Watch me,” I said, sidestepping around him and rushing up to the front door.

I ignored their commands to come back, and heard O’Donnell reassuring the other cops, following rapidly in my footsteps. He could get in a lot of trouble for this. So could I, for that matter.

Either way, I sorely hoped what I’d said outside was true. Chaz was the leader of a werewolf pack. That meant he was bigger, faster, and most importantly, smarter than the average shifted Were. He might be hotheaded, but he shouldn’t be so out of control that he wouldn’t recognize me. If he didn’t, Officer O’Donnell and I would be mincemeat.

Chapter 16

The rookie was braver than I gave him credit for. His voice was firm and confident, but his hand was trembling as it hovered over his piece. “Are you sure he won’t attack us?”

I kept the lead, taking the stairs up to my floor slowly, more because I was tired and didn’t feel so hot than because I was worried.

“Pretty sure. If he didn’t kill or attack anyone right off, chances are he’s ‘himself’ enough to keep from hurting us.”

“Okay,” he said, quieting for a minute. We were almost to my floor when he blurted out another question. “Why are you dating a Were?”

A perfectly valid question. Pity he had to sound so disgusted and horrified when he asked it.

“He’s good looking, makes good money, a perfect gentleman, and saved my butt more times than I can count. He’s not a bad guy. Just is what he is.”

The officer nodded, not seeming completely satisfied, but at least he stopped asking questions. Guess he was one of the “Weres are okay to work with, not okay to sleep with” crowd. Go figure.

When I pushed open the door on the landing, the first thing I spotted were pieces of splintered furniture lying against the wall a few yards away. Light was spilling into the dim hall from my apartment. I hoped those splintered wood shards weren’t part of the door. Explaining the property damage to my landlord wasn’t an appealing prospect.

Suppressing my fear was difficult with O’Donnell’s rapid breathing punctuating the unnatural quiet. There should’ve been a radio or TV blasting from one of the other apartments at this time of day. Had the police gotten everyone out? Were they in hiding? Or had Chaz given in to his baser instincts and hunted my neighbors down?

“Chaz?” I called out quietly, knowing he must have heard us on the stairs. He should’ve had enough time to get himself under control and shift back to human, but I wasn’t going to take any chances of startling him if he was still shifted. That could be deadly.

A low, plaintive whine drifted into the hall. Way too deep to be a dog.

I started forward, not rapidly, but not wasting any time either. When O’Donnell hissed at me to wait, to slow down, I ignored him.

I didn’t have time to be pissed off about the bullet holes in the wall or the splintered door frame. A gasp was startled out of me at the sight of the monstrous, hulking form lying battered and bleeding in the corner. Chaz was curled up near the couch, blood streaming down the gray fur of his shoulder. Massive claws dug deep furrows into the carpet, flexing with each spasm of pain.

Ice blue eyes met mine when the great, shaggy head lifted, another whine drifting from his throat. I slowed, hands at my sides, fingers splayed and palms out to avoid triggering any fighting instincts. Chaz’s ears flattened, showing his fangs in a silent snarl when O’Donnell appeared in the doorway behind me. The cop’s hand was plastered to his gun, his knees shaking so badly I could hear them rattling. This must be the first time he’d seen a Were in their half-man, half-animal form. O’Donnell’s fear could mean an itchy trigger finger or might provoke Chaz into attacking. Not good.

I spoke quietly, trying to pull Chaz’s attention off the terrified kid. “Chaz, what happened?”

A growl escaped him, setting the hairs on the back of my neck to attention. My fear dissipated as Chaz lowered his head and stopped showing his teeth, a gruff, less irritated sound escaping him. With little cries of pain, he levered up to four paws, limping closer to me. Right now, we were nearly eye level. When he stood up on his hind legs, he’d have to stoop so he wouldn’t bump his head on the ceiling.

The cop took a step back, gun clearing the holster as I reached out a hand to Chaz. I hissed at him to put the weapon away while I got down on one knee, examining wounds mostly hidden behind fur and blood. One of the rounds hadn’t gone very deep, and I could see the hint of the metal shining through the mask of blood. It was difficult to tell how bad it was with his muscles rippling in an involuntary effort to dislodge the bullet.

“Chaz, come to the kitchen so I can get more light.”

The kid rapidly backed out of the way. It was painful to watch Chaz limp, making little pained sounds with every step, the few feet from my living room to the kitchen. I watched just long enough to see him settle to the ground and then ran straight to my bathroom. I tore open the medicine cabinet and raced back with a pair of tweezers.

“For God’s sake, don’t just stand there. Help me!” I snapped at O’Donnell as I passed him the second time.

He came out of his frightened trance, skittishly following me to the kitchen. He was staring at Chaz like he was afraid the Were was going to turn around and bite him.

“Get some warm water and towels from under the sink. Chaz, don’t move. Sorry, this is going to hurt.”

Chaz whimpered like an injured puppy–a very large injured puppy–but stayed as still as he could while I prodded at the wound. The bullet was lodged in muscle, not very deep. He was lucky the rest of the shots had gone wild. I should be able to get it out. Lucky me, I’d get to pull them out of the plaster next.

His muscles twitched and jumped under my fingers while I worked. Careful as I was, with the way his body was reacting, it wasn’t easy to find an opportunity to pluck the metal out. When he let loose with a deafening howl of protest, Officer O’Donnell jumped so badly I thought he’d smack his head on the ceiling. Okay, okay, I jumped, too. The sound was pretty unnerving.

I whispered soothing nonsense things while I worked, trying to focus on pulling the stupid hunk of metal out. I also tried to ignore the cracking of the kitchen tile as claws repeatedly flexed while I dug around, trying to get a good grip on the slug. After a few more hair-raising howls, a bit of pulling, and a few unfortunate slips of the tweezers, I finally dug the bullet out.

O’Donnell pressed the warm, wet cloth to Chaz’s shoulder as he lay panting on the linoleum. I was thankful the policeman didn’t seem squeamish about Were blood. Some people still thought you could catch lycanthropy just by touching infected blood, though that theory had been disproven long ago. The virus is passed through fluids, yes, but it has to work its way into your bloodstream through a bite or an injection of tainted blood.

I stared at the bullet. Hard to tell. I went to the sink to get the blood off my hands and the piece of metal. I had to be sure.

A rinse revealed the unmistakable gleam of silver shot. No wonder his body hadn’t expelled it or started healing yet. Cops were supposed to carry regular rounds and switch to silver after it was confirmed they were dealing with lycanthropes. From what I understood, they didn’t carry anti-Were equipment unless they’d been tipped beforehand. Too expensive to do otherwise.

How did this happen? How could they have known to be prepared with silver shot?

I turned back to the two, eyes narrowed. I was too angry to appreciate the irony of how scared O’Donnell looked. He was leaning to put pressure on the wound and at the same time holding as much of himself as far away from Chaz as he could. Like he was afraid he’d catch something if he got too close. “Chaz, can you shift back?”

He slowly lifted his head from his paws and shook it, unnerving O’Donnell even more.

“Too badly hurt?”

A nod this time.

“Jesus. He understands us?”

Chaz turned back to just look at him. O’Donnell backed up a step, putting his hands up. “Okay, I get it.”

I moved to take his place putting pressure on the wound, worry settling in since it was still bleeding. I’d seen him take much worse damage fighting other Weres, but nothing hurt a lycanthrope like silver. Made me wonder who knew enough about me and my personal life to set up something like this.

That thought in mind, I turned my attention to the windows. The shades were up, sun shining merrily in the sky, oblivious of the little drama that had played itself out. Somehow, someone had been able to get pictures of the inside of my apartment. I was willing to bet there was a camera set up in the building across from mine. Someone was watching me.

I dragged O’Donnell by the wrist so he’d take over holding the cloth to Chaz’s shoulder. Once I was sure he wasn’t going to move again, I stalked over to each of the windows in every room, pulling down the shades, making sure the blinds were all closed. Once that was done, I dragged a duffel down from the top shelf of my bedroom closet, then proceeded to pull out the things I would need.

Guns. Amber Kiss perfume. Cross. Armor. Belt with stakes. Enough fresh clothes for a couple days, ass-kicking boots, trench coat. Officer O’Donnell appeared in the doorway as I was putting on some sneakers. “I need to call in the guys downstairs. You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, standing up and brushing my hands down my pant legs. I’d caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror when I was grabbing some stuff in the bathroom, and wondered why the hell Devon had tried hitting on me today. I looked like I’d been on a three-day bender, then left forgotten in the rain to sleep it off in the mud next to the stoop. My hair needed a wash so badly it had lost some of its natural curl. There were bags under my eyes deep enough to carry luggage, and my skin was so pale I looked like a ghost. There was a bloody handprint on my stomach, probably left by me when I was tending to Chaz and wasn’t paying attention.