37
Zerbrowski was being sewn back together. None of the doctors were telling us anything. Guarded. His condition was guarded. Dolph was also in the hospital. Not as bad off but enough to stay for a day or so. Zerbrowski hadn't regained consciousness before they took him away. I waited. Katie, his wife, arrived sometime in the middle of all that waiting.
It was only the second time we'd ever met. She was a small woman with a mane of dark hair tied in a loose ponytail. Without a spot of makeup she was lovely. How Zerbrowski had managed to snag her I'd never figured out.
She walked towards me, dark eyes wide. She was clutching her purse like a shield, fingers digging into the leather. "Where is he?" Her voice was high and breathy, like a little girl's. It always sounded like that.
Before I could say anything, the doctor came out of the swinging doors at the end of the hall. Katie stared at him. All the blood had drained from her face.
I stood up and moved to stand beside her. She stared at the approaching doctor like he was some monster in her worst nightmare. Probably more accurate than I wanted it to be.
"Are you Mrs. Zerbrowski?" the doctor asked.
She nodded. Her hands where they gripped the purse were mottled, trembling with tension.
"Your husband is stable. It looks good. He's going to make it."
Christmas was coming after all.
Katie gave a small sigh and her knees buckled. I caught her and stood there supporting her dead weight. She couldn't have weighed ninety pounds.
"We've got a lounge in here if you can..." He looked at me, then shrugged.
I lifted Katie Zerbrowski in my arms, got the balance of it, and said, "Lead on."
I left Katie sitting by Zerbrowski's bedside. His hand wrapped around hers, like he knew she was there. Maybe he did. Lucille, Dolph's wife, was there now to hold her hand just in case. Staring down at Zerbrowski's pale face, I prayed that there was no "just in case."
I wanted to wait until Zerbrowski woke up, but the doctor told me it would probably be tomorrow. I couldn't go without sleep that long. My new stitches made the cross-shaped burn scar on my left arm crooked. The claw marks twisted to one side, missing the mound of scar tissue at the bend of my arm.
Carrying Katie had broken some of my stitches, and they bled through the bandage. The doctor who had operated on Zerbrowski resewed it personally. He looked at the scars a lot.
My arm hurt and was bandaged from wrist to elbow. But we were all alive. Yea.
The taxi dropped me off at my apartment building at what would have been a decent hour. Louie had been drugged and tied in the basement. Elvira had admitted to taking the skins of a werewolf, a wereleopard, and trying for the naga. Jason hadn't been in the house. She denied ever having seen him. What did she need with another werewolf skin? The wererat skin would have been for her, she said. When asked who the snakeskin would have been for, she said her. There was at least one other person involved that she wasn't willing to give up.
She was a witch and had used magic to kill. It was an automatic death sentence. Once convicted, the sentence would be carried out within forty-eight hours. No appeals. No pardons. Dead. The lawyers were trying to get her to admit to the other disappearances. If she'd admit to it they might commute her sentence. Might. A killer witch. I didn't believe they'd lighten her sentence, but maybe they would.
Richard was sitting outside my apartment door. I hadn't expected to see him, night of the full moon and all. I'd left a message on his answering machine about finding Louie and him being all right.
The police were trying to keep it all quiet, especially Louie's secret identity. I hoped they could manage it. But at least he was alive. Animal control had the dog.
"I got your message," he said. "Thanks for saving Louie."
I put my key in the lock. "You're welcome."
"We haven't found Jason. Do you really think the witches took him?"
I opened the door. He followed me in and closed the door. "I don't know. That's been bothering me, too. If she'd taken Jason. He should have been there." The wolf, once out of its skin, had been a woman that I didn't know.
I walked into the bedroom as if I'd been alone. Richard followed me. I felt light and distant and faintly unreal. They'd cut off the sleeve of my jacket and sweater. I'd tried to save the jacket but I guess it had been ruined anyway. They'd also cut through the left arm sheath. I had it and the knife shoved in my jacket pocket. Why do they always cut everything off in the emergency room?
He came up behind me, not touching, hands hovering over my arm. "You didn't tell me you were hurt."
The phone rang. I picked it up without thinking.
A man's voice said, "Anita Blake?"
"Yes."
"This is Williams, the naturalist at the Audubon Center. I played back some of my owl tapes that I'd recorded at night. One of them has what I'd swear was hyenas on it. I told the police, but they didn't seem to understand the significance. Do you understand what it might mean to have hyena sounds out here?"
"A werehyena," I said.
"Yes, I thought so, too."
No one had told him the killer was probably a werewolf. But one of the missing shifters was a hyena. Maybe Elvira really didn't know what happened to all the missing lycanthropes.
"Did you say you told the police?"
"Yes, I did."
"Who'd you tell?"
"I called Sheriff Titus's office."
"Who'd you speak to?"
"Aikensen."
"Do you know if he told Titus?"
"No, but why wouldn't he?"
Why indeed.
"Someone's at the door. Can you hold on a minute?"
"I don't think..."
"I'll be right back."
"Williams, Williams, don't answer the door." But I was talking to empty air. I heard him walk across the floor. The door opened. He made a surprised sound. Heavier footsteps came back across the floor.
Someone picked up the phone. I could hear them breathing. They didn't say anything.
"Talk to me, you son of a bitch."
The breathing got heavy.
"If you hurt him, Aikensen, I will feed you your dick on knife point."
He laughed and hung up. And I'd never be able to testify in court who was on the other end of that phone.
"Dammit, damn it, damn it."
"What's wrong?"
I called information to get the number for the Willoton Police Department. I pressed the button that dialed it automatically for a small fee.
"Anita, what is it?"
I held up a hand, telling him to wait. A woman answered. "Is this Deputy Holmes?"
It wasn't. I got Chief Garroway after impressing on the dispatcher that this was a matter of life and death. I did not scream at her. I deserved mucho brownie points for that.
I gave Garroway the Reader's Digestversion. "I can't believe even Aikensen would be involved in something like this, but I'll send a car."
"Thanks."
"Why didn't you just call 911?" Richard asked.
"They'd call the county police. Aikensen might even be assigned the call."
I was struggling out of my butchered jacket. Richard eased it off my left shoulder or I might never have gotten it off. When it was off, I realized I was out of coats. I'd ruined two in as many days. I grabbed the only coat I had left. It was crimson, long and full. I'd worn it twice. The last time was Christmas. The red coat would show up even at night. If I needed to sneak up on anybody, I could take it off.
Richard had to help me get my left arm in the sleeve. It still hurt.
"Let's go get Jason," he said.
I looked at him. "You're not going anywhere but wherever lycanthropes go when there's a full moon."
"You can't even put your own coat on. How are you going to drive?"
He had a point.
"This may put you in danger."
"I'm a full-grown werewolf and tonight is the full moon. I think I can handle it." He had a faraway look in his eyes as if he were hearing voices I would never know.
"All right. Let's go, but we're going to save Williams. I think the weres are close to his place, but I don't know exactly where."
He was standing there with his long duster coat on. He was wearing a white T-shirt, a pair of jeans with one knee gone, and a pair of less than reputable shoes.
"Why the scuffy clothes?"
"If I shift in my clothes, they're always torn apart. Precaution. You ready?"
"Yeah."
"Let's go," he said. There was something about him that was different. A waiting tension like water just before it spills over the edge. When I looked into his brown eyes, something slid behind them. Some furred shape was inside there, waiting to get out.
I realized what I was sensing from him. Eagerness. Richard's beast was looking out of his true brown eyes, and it was eager to be about its business.
What could I say? We went.