Chapter 6
So shifters were real, werewolves were scary, and Hank was both terrifying and kind. None of that really computed in Cecilia’s brain, but Mother collapsing? That made total sense.
She crossed quickly to the woman’s side, going to press her fingers to Mother’s neck except she was still gripping the Swiss army knife and…
God. She shuddered as she realized she was covered in blood.
And not only that, she’d killed. She hadn’t tried to restrain or contain, she hadn’t done it as a science experiment.
She’d done it because they were being attacked and she knew how to kill the monster attacking them.
And that made her sick to her stomach.
With a gasp, she dropped the knife on the coffee table. Or more like threw it. And then she tried to get control of her shaking hands and the suddenly too rapid beat of her heart.
Sammy, however, had no such problems. She shoved Cecilia back with a glare.
“Who the hell are you?”
Pride came to her rescue. When every other part of her body and mind were scrambling to absorb what had just happened, certain patterns remained solid. Like the one where she defended her credentials to every doubter that she came across. And there had been many.
“I’m a doctor,” she snapped. “And I’m trying to help.”
Then she forced herself to put action to words as she quickly wiped her bloody hand on the last clean part of her lab coat, then went again for Mother’s carotid.
Weak and uneven. Worse, her eyes were panicked, and her breath was gasping, as if she couldn’t get enough air.
“Does she have a heart condition?”
“Yeah.” Then the girl suddenly brightened. “Yes! Hank gave her pills.”
“Get them.”
Sammy straightened up, but she needn’t have bothered.
Hank had already grabbed Mother’s big tote bag and was bringing it over.
And what a sight that was seeing the bright fabric handles clamped between his bear teeth, a big butterfly tote swinging back and forth.
Cecilia grabbed it from him thinking that that was probably the most surreal thing she’d ever seen.
And given this night’s work, that was saying something.
Meanwhile Sammy started digging in the bag without even pulling it from Cecilia’s hand. She yanked out a little plastic baggie of pills with triumph.
“Here!”
Cecilia looked at the bear. Seriously, she looked straight into the bear’s eyes and asked the question. “Nitro?”
Hank’s head dipped in an obvious nod.
She grabbed a pill and gently opened Mother’s mouth to set it underneath her tongue. Then she sat there, holding Mother’s wrist as she monitored the woman’s pulse. Five seconds. Ten.
Mother’s heartbeat stabilized and grew stronger. Her breath evened out, too. And in a moment, her expression eased, and her shoulders drooped.
“I’m getting too old for this wolf shit,” she murmured.
“Is there ever an age for wolf shit?” Cecilia asked.
The woman’s eyes narrowed then a grin split her face. “Oh hell yes, honey. Those wolves make the best damn lovers you ever seen. Wild and fast. But they do like it doggy style—”
“Mother!” Sammy cried in shock, and Cecilia felt herself chuckle at the hot color in the kid’s cheeks.
The woman snorted. “I wasn’t born this old.” Then she quirked an eye at the girl. “And you’re one to talk, parading around naked in front of Hank.”
So yes, Sammy had been naked all this time, but everyone had been focused on other things.
Certainly Sammy had been until Mother’s words.
And if she’d been blushing before, now her face burned red hot as she gasped and grabbed the blanket off the couch to wrap it around her thin shoulders.
Then with a horrified look at the black bear—who was looking straight out the window as if it hadn’t even occurred to him to look anywhere else—she dashed down the stairs.
Mother chuckled, though the sound was weak. “Girl never thinks about clothes. Most shifters don’t. It’s how I knew she was one of ’em.”
“Really? What are the other signs?” Cecilia might’ve been shaky and splattered with blood, but intellectual curiosity always won out. And suddenly she had a whole new vista of study to explore.
“There’s the way they eat. Less cooking, more raw.”
“Even before their first shift? That’s what this was, right? The first time—”
“Yes. It’s a little early for her, but we knew it was coming. Hank could smell it on her.”
Cecilia wanted to ask more. Questions piled on top of each other in her brain, but she could see that Mother was exhausted. The woman needed her rest. So she suppressed her need to know in favor of Mother’s health, but it was a hard thing to do.
“I want to hear all about it,” she said, keeping her tone gentle. “But maybe in the morning. Can I help you to bed?”
Mother gave her a grateful look, but then her gaze skidded around the room at the disaster that surrounded them. “I should—”
“Rest. Hank and I will take care of things tonight. Don’t you worry.”
Mother’s expression was grateful as Cecilia helped her stand.
“And if you give me the name of your cardiologist, I can write up…well not everything.” They’d lock her in the loony bin for sure.
“But I can tell him about what I saw…” Her voice trailed away.
It was in her nature to document everything, especially an older woman’s heart episode.
But she could see from Mother’s face that there were other problems with her suggestion than the fear that she’d mention werewolves in her notes.
“You don’t have a cardiologist, do you?”
“I got Hank there.”
It took Cecilia a moment to remember that Hank had told her at the beginning. “An army medic is a far cry from—”
“He takes good care of me.”
Cecilia looked over to where Hank was watching them with a stoic expression. Or simply a bear expression. It was hard to tell.
“No insurance, then?”
Mother shook her head. “The neighborhood takes care of me.” And when Cecilia raised her eyebrows at that, Mother shrugged.
“The wolves around here ain’t that bad. Not generally.
It’s since this Flu thing that they’ve gone crazy.
” She looked sadly at the two hybrid bodies.
“Any way to know who they were? Before the Flu got ’em? ”
Cecilia swallowed. She hadn’t wanted to think about that.
She hadn’t wanted to look at the bodies and think anything but monster.
Or attacker. That Mother was already aware of the person beneath the fur showed she had a bigger heart than Cecilia.
The things—the sick people—had broken through her window and attacked them.
Hank was even now standing guard as a bear to make sure no one came at them again.
And yet here was Mother thinking of the souls beneath the monster masks.
“I don’t know,” Cecilia answered honestly. “I’ll do what I can before the coroner gets here, but the bodies decompose incredibly fast.” That’s something they’d learned after the first wave of the Detroit Flu. And they were now on their third.
“Find them. Everybody has someone who cares. A mother should know when her child is gone.” There was a wealth of sadness in her tone and Cecilia wondered whom the woman had lost, but she didn’t press.
Mother needed all her strength to climb the stairs and collapse into bed.
She didn’t even undress and when Cecilia went to help her, she waved her away.
“Go on and help Sammy. Hank said new shifters are starving at first, before they sleep for a couple days.”
Good to know. “I’ll bring you some broth to drink. You need to keep your strength up, too.”
Mother patted her hand, the gesture maternal and vague. The woman’s eyes were already closing. “Go on now.”
Cecilia did, listening carefully as Mother’s breath deepened into a steady rhythm.
She resolved to do some quick research on how to care for cardiac patients, but in the meantime, she had a new shifter to feed and after that, a whole new species to investigate.
And though she wanted to make sure the living were taken care of, the bulk of her mind was caught up in the desire to examine the dead.
She’d found her clue and boy was it a doozy. There were so many avenues of research to follow, and all of them so exciting she couldn’t decide where to start.
She made it downstairs and headed straight into the kitchen. Hank remained at the front window, his big bear body on alert as he sniffed the night air. He looked over his shoulder at her, and she smiled.
“Mother is resting. I’ll check on her soon. She said that Sammy would be starving so…”
Hank left the window to follow her into the kitchen. She smiled as he came close, wondering if this was what it would be like to have a large dog as a pet. One that followed you wherever you went, who listened and never talked back. Who stretched up onto his back legs to paw at a cabinet.
Well, probably not that last one. Damn, he had to be seven feet tall like this.
Where did he find the mass? As a man, he’d been over six feet, but somehow during the shift, he’d gained height and at least a hundred pounds.
She was still watching him, thinking about the difference between man and beast when he managed to get the cabinet open.
But he didn’t have the dexterity to pull down a box of protein bars without risking the entire cabinet.
“I’ll get it,” she said as she stepped forward. He backed up, tottered a moment on his back paws, and then gracefully collapsed down. He didn’t touch her, though she felt his heat as he went down. And damn, she’d never been this close to a bear before.
All that inky black fur was beautiful. And the brown muzzle seemed cute and fuzzy.
No trace of a scar on the bear, she realized.
And were his eyes larger? Yes, they had to be.
She wanted to take measurements of both man and bear, but she got lost in the liquid depths of his gaze.
He’d dropped to all fours and now they were staring at each other, nearly eye to eye.