Chapter 35 Bruno
brUNO
Bruno blew all the air out of his lungs as he fell and shifted the moment he broke the ice, sinking to the bottom of the pool like a stone. When he felt cement under his paws, he immediately struck out for the far side, crawling along the edge of the pool.
He had a good sense of internal time, and he knew they would stop watching for him after a few minutes, but he waited until his lungs were begging for oxygen and his vision was starting to darken before he dared to break the surface.
The steps at the shallow end gave him the purchase to burst up and break through the ice, and he sucked in air and prepared to dive again if shots were fired.
No bullets greeted him, but that wasn’t the only source of danger.
It was cold.
The air he breathed in was frosty, and it sent crystals of ice straight into his lungs.
Not literal ones, he reminded himself, but armadillos were not cold-weather creatures, and his feet ached from the chill.
Would it be better as a human? Bruno clawed the rest of the way out of the pool and shifted.
It did not feel appreciably better.
His clothing had been soaked before he shifted, and it was soaked now, bitterly cold, and already starting to freeze stiff as he staggered to his numb feet. His boots were full of water and weighed a hundred pounds apiece. His glasses were gone, so everything was bright and blurry.
There was no sound from the house to indicate that anyone was still there, and Bruno couldn’t see anyone moving on the balcony above or in the house when he squinted, so he was grateful for that much, even as it gave him a stab of worry for Clarice.
Had they shot her while he was under? Taken her with them?
They knew about him, and they knew about Gil.
He didn’t know how much information they had, but it was enough to be dangerous.
Bruno staggered for the house, barely able to keep one foot in front of the other, his need to shiver was so violent.
He couldn’t even feel his fingers and toes, and the door he tried was locked.
The stairs up to the balcony were closed with a security gate.
He went to circle the house and try to find a way back inside from the front, and dodged back as a van roared out of the driveway and turned onto the road. Clarice’s car was still there and his was next to it where he’d parked, but there was no sign of Clarice. The front door was locked.
Instinct made him look around, and if it hadn’t insisted he take a longer look, he would have dismissed the fuzzy lump of snow at the end of the turnaround. But it wasn’t just snow, it was a white coat. It was Veronica’s white coat that Clarice had been wearing, and Clarice was in it.
Bruno forgot his own discomfort and sprinted across the parking pad as Clarice rolled and tried to get to her feet.
She made it to her knees by the time Bruno got to her, and he ripped the backwards stocking cap off her head and stared into her dear, panicked, tearful face.
She really was hotter when panic-stricken, just like when they met.
“You’re alive?” she cried, and she nearly fell forward, which was when Bruno realized that her wrists were zip-tied. He gave them a futile tug.
“You’re soaking wet! You’ll freeze! How do you not have hypothermia? How are you still alive?!”
“Armadillos can hold their breath for a really long time,” Bruno said around his chattering teeth. “But we’re not gr-great with the c-cold.”
“I have the door code,” Clarice said, and they limped ungracefully to the front door.
There was a snow shovel with a metal edge leaning on the porch and Bruno held in place while Clarice sobbed and sawed her hands along it.
When her arms finally sprang apart, Bruno dropped the shovel with a clatter.
“We have to get you warm,” she cried as she got the door open. “And we have to warn Tiny Paws!”
“W-warn them of wh-what?” Bruno asked, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the ice blocks of his jeans or the painful frozen sensation of his fingers, which he no longer could control at all.
“They are planning a raid. Right now! In broad daylight! To get as many kids as they can. Veronica said she had the code to turn off the alarm and an emergency key, though I don’t know if she was bluffing, or if she would use it, and they took my phone and my car keys.”
“They took m-mine, too,” Bruno said, though he patted his pants to make sure. They crackled as he broke the ice around the pocket.
Clarice did the same, apparently out of habit, and said, “Wait! Wait!” as she plunged her hand into one of the pockets. “Veronica must have slipped it to me in the van.”
She took it out, her hands shaking, and stared at the lock screen.
“D-do you n-ned the c-code to c-call the police?” Bruno asked, feeling a desperate wave of hope.
“I think I know it,” Clarice said, punching in numbers. “She uses the same one for all of her devices.”
“That’s very insec-cure,” Bruno said. It was too risky to call the police. “Call Alan!”
“Do you know his number?” Clarice pulled up a keypad.
For a moment, Bruno was afraid that technology itself was going to be his downfall. All of the numbers he had were safely programmed into his phone. Who memorized phone numbers anymore?
“I could search for Tiny Paws,” Clarice said desperately. “If they have their number on the webpage.”
“Give me the keypad,” Bruno said impulsively. It was warmer inside, but not by much, and he fumbled the phone when he tried to hold it and push numbers at the same time. Clarice folded her fingers around his. It hurt where they warmed him, but he could use his other hand on the screen.
He closed his eyes, trying to draw on instinct. It had gotten him here. It had brought him this far. If he just trusted it, he didn’t actually have to remember…
His fingers were clumsy, and he deleted numbers without looking twice, then opened his eyes to stare at the screen. Alan’s number didn’t have a two in it, did it? He stabbed the call button anyway.
“Juliette,” an unfamiliar voice answered.
Bruno’s heart sank. He didn’t know a Juliette; he’d just gotten a random wrong number.
No, wait! Juliette was the name of the shifter agent, Theo’s ex-wife and mother of Darius and one of the kids at Tiny Paws.
“Who is this?” she asked sharply. “How did you get this number?”
“Bruno. B-bruno Martin. I have a k-kid at T-tiny P-paws with Jackson.” Bruno could barely move his mouth, he was shivering so badly, and he could hardly hear Juliette.