Chapter 15 Lina
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Lina
A day passed in a fever haze that made reality feel negotiable.
I’d called Mika to tell her I had stomach flu, which was easier than explaining “hey, remember that beast attack everyone’s paranoid about?
Yeah, one of them made me its chew toy.” She’d wanted to bring soup.
Vivi had threatened to show up with her grandmother’s cure-all tea that smelled like fermented gym socks.
I’d convinced them both to stay away, claiming I was violently contagious.
The truth was uglier. The bite wound had gone from bad to catastrophic.
Angry red infection spread outward from the puncture marks in dark veins that looked like someone had drawn on me with a sharpie while I slept.
Except this artwork came with bonus features: fever that wouldn’t break, vision that kept shifting into too-bright colors, and hearing so acute I could tell when Mrs. Kelly was arguing with her husband three houses down.
“Mama needs more water,” Rowan announced from his post beside my bed. He hadn’t left my side except for bathroom breaks, curled against me even when the fever made me radiate heat. Every time I shifted, he’d make these soft whimpering sounds that broke my heart.
“I’ll get it!” Thea scrambled off the bed where she’d been arranging her stuffed animal army. She’d decided the solution to my illness was clearly a protective fort of plush toys. Mr. Unicorn was stationed by my head, apparently the commanding officer of this cotton-filled militia.
I tried to sit up and immediately regretted existing. The room spun in lazy circles that made my stomach revolt. “I’m okay, babies. Just resting.”
“You shake when you sleep,” Rowan informed me solemnly. “And you make hurt sounds.”
Fantastic. Nothing quite screams “responsible parent” more than traumatizing your kids with your fever dreams. I’d been having vivid nightmares about running through forests, about hunting and being hunted, about gray eyes that watched from the darkness.
Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? Not a normal infection. Not a regular fever. My body was changing, fighting a war I didn’t understand with weapons I didn’t know I had. The bite burned constantly now, sending pulses of wrong through my system with each heartbeat.
And I really, really didn’t want to become a monster. Not when I had two kids who needed me human, normal, safe. Not when Pine Valley was already terrified of beasts in the woods. I couldn’t become the thing everyone feared. I wouldn’t.
Thea returned with a glass of water filled so high it sloshed with each step. I managed to drink some without spilling, though my hands shook badly enough that Rowan had to help steady the glass.
“All better soon?” Thea asked hopefully, climbing back onto the bed with the careful movements of someone who’d been told repeatedly not to jostle Mama’s shoulder.
“All better soon,” I lied through teeth that had started chattering despite the sweat soaking through my shirt. At this rate, “soon” meant “when pigs flew” or “when hell froze over” or “when my body finished whatever supernatural transformation was clearly happening.”
A knock at the door made all three of us freeze.
“Mama, a man is here,” Rowan announced, his little nose wrinkling as he sniffed the air. How he could smell someone through a closed door was another question for the “shit I can’t explain” pile.
“Okay, babies, go to your room for a minute,” I managed, forcing myself upright through sheer maternal willpower. “Let Mama see who it is.”
They went reluctantly, Thea dragging Mr. Unicorn behind her as backup.
I stumbled to the door, using furniture as support, trying to look less like death warmed over.
Through the peephole, I saw a man with black hair and green eyes.
He looked familiar in that nagging way where you’ve definitely seen someone but can’t place them.
My fever-addled brain struggled to make connections.
I opened the door cautiously, keeping most of my weight against the frame. “Can I help you?”
He smiled, all friendly charm and boy-next-door energy. “Hi, I’m Noah. I work with wildlife control. We’ve had reports of a wolf attack in this area a few days ago. Just checking on residents, making sure everyone’s okay.”
Wildlife control? Since when did Pine Valley have wildlife control? And who could have reported my attack? The only witnesses had been the wolves themselves, unless someone had seen us running from the forest. My paranoia, already at a healthy level, skyrocketed.
“That’s... very thorough of you,” I managed, trying for normal human conversation while my brain screamed stranger danger.
His casual demeanor shifted as he got a good look at me. His eyes tracked over my sweat-soaked appearance, the way I death-gripped the doorframe, the subtle tremor in my limbs. “Ma’am, are you alright? You look...”
He trailed off, and I caught the way his nostrils flared slightly. What was with everyone suddenly having bloodhound abilities?
“I’m fine. Just flu.” The lie came out breathless, unconvincing even to my own ears.
But his attention had already shifted. His eyes locked onto my collar where the edge of the bandage peeked out. I’d tried to keep it covered, but fever sweats and restless sleep had shifted my shirt.
“Is that... were you injured?” His voice had lost all pretense of casual concern.
“It’s nothing,” I started to close the door but swayed dangerously. The world tilted sideways, and suddenly he was there, catching my arm with reflexes too fast to be normal.
“Ma’am - sorry, what’s your name?”
“Lina,” I said weakly, too sick to maintain proper stranger danger protocols.
“Lina, that’s not nothing.” His grip on my arm was gentle but firm, keeping me upright. “I’ve seen bites before. The infection pattern, the fever - this is from one of the ferals. You know, the beasts your town warns about?”
Your town? The phrasing struck me as odd. Pine Valley locals wouldn’t refer to it that way. Which meant he was an outsider, despite his casual claim of working for wildlife control.
I laughed, the sound coming out slightly hysterical. “Beasts aren’t real. I’m fine. Just need to sleep it off.”
“The one that bit you was very real,” he said urgently. “And if untreated, these bites... Listen, I know someone who can help. A specialist. But we need to go now.”
Before I could protest that I didn’t make a habit of going places with strange men who showed up at my door claiming to be wildlife control, a small voice carried from the hallway.
“Mama, I’m hungry!”
Thea appeared, still in the clothes she’d been wearing all day, Rowan shadowing her as always. They both stopped when they saw the stranger, but Thea had never met a person she couldn’t befriend.
“Hi! I’m Thea. This is Rowan. Are you here to make Mama better?”
Noah’s expression went through a series of rapid changes. Shock flickered across his features, followed by what looked like understanding, then anger. His gaze bounced between the twins and me, and I could practically see him doing math in his head.
That’s when the pieces clicked together with nauseating clarity.
I’d seen him before, but not in Pine Valley.
Not in any normal context. He’d been in that hotel room, the one who’d opened the door first. He’d been the one who’d dragged me inside and covered my mouth.
He’d been there when Matthias had rejected me, dismissed me, humiliated me.
“You,” I breathed, the word barely audible.
His jaw tightened. “The kids... We need to go, now.”
The urgency in his voice sent ice through my veins despite the fever. He knew who I was. Who they were. And judging by his expression, that knowledge came with implications I didn’t understand.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I tried to pull away, but my legs had other ideas about supporting my weight.
“Lina, please,” he caught me again as I stumbled. “I know what you’re thinking. I know who you think I am. But right now, none of that matters. That bite is going to kill you if we don’t get help, and those kids...”
He looked at Rowan and Thea again, and pain flashed across his features.
“Those kids need their mother alive.”