Chapter 17
It was controlled chaos. The Wolfes had arrived just before the ambulance, my sisters, and about a dozen of the Rossi clan.
Jean had quickly told Dave, the owner of the bait shop, that he needed to be closed for the day, promised an update as soon as she had it, and sent him home in his truck.
Dave hadn’t had a chance to see Jame, since the ambulance, Jean’s truck, and Myra’s cruiser were strategically parked to block anyone’s view.
Myra had cordoned off the scene of the crime, stringing yellow police tape like a particularly industrious spider.
My job was to try to keep the werewolves and vampires from killing each other.
Rossi and Granny both held tight to their human forms, so much so that I almost didn’t notice Rossi’s red or Granny’s hot silver eyes.
When the wolves had arrived, in wolf form, a wall of gray and black and mottled brown, heavily furred, some big, some lean, but all of them killers, defenders, brothers/sisters/pack, I’d let them surround Jame.
Yes, it meant there was probably going to be a loss of evidence with the wolves walking through the blood and gravel.
But I’d dare anyone to stand in the way of a pack that wanted to get to their fallen brother.
I just hoped Ryder’s pictures would give us what we needed to find the bastard who had done this.
Rossi had had the sense to back off a little ways while the wolves circled Jame, whining, growling, trying to lick, but wincing from the taste of the blood while snarling with ears flattened and tails tucked.
Granny Wolfe wasn’t the biggest wolf of the pack, but there was no doubt she was the alpha. Her fur was black with streaks of gray, and she sniffed around Jame, bared her huge teeth, then paced over to Rossi and stopped in front of him.
She shifted from wolf to human so quickly, it looked fluid and painless, like her bones and body hadn’t just gone from one state to another in a painfully fast three seconds.
Then she was standing there, naked, in front of Rossi, fury on her face, her hands at her sides in loose fists, like she was trying to keep her claws from popping out.
Short, naked, and petite, Granny’s body didn’t show her age. She radiated power. Her body was lean and lightly muscled beneath tanned skin that seemed painted on over sinew and bone.
Rossi’s eyes never left her face. He pulled off the loose sweatshirt he was wearing, revealing the plain black tank top beneath. His muscled arms were swoon-worthy if one was into ancient ex-soldier vampires. He held the sweatshirt out to her.
She stared at him, never deviating her gaze to the proffered sweater.
She crossed her arms, making it loud and clear that she’d rather stand there naked in the rain, than accept a piece of clothing offered by a vampire.
Crap. The last thing I needed was the uncertain peace between the vamps and weres to turn into a certain war.
“Granny?” Myra walked up to the pile of wolves and around them, giving enough room so they only followed her with their eyes instead of lunging toward her. “I brought you a blanket.”
Granny took the blanket from her, not looking away from Rossi.
“You dare think you can claim one of mine?” she snarled.
The blanket hung from her hand, and every muscle in her body was bunching up. Twitching, coiling with the need to attack.
“I have claimed no one.”
A shift of shadows behind Rossi, and there were now twenty or so Rossis glaring at her and her pack with eyes that somehow managed to look hungry for blood, but bored that all they’d have to do to get it was kick werewolf butt.
Nope. This was not going to come down to a fight. Not on my shift.
“Ben’s missing,” I said.
Rossi didn’t look away from Granny. “Yes,” he said.
“And Jame’s been bitten by someone or something that isn’t Ben. Not one of yours. Not a Rossi.”
“Yes.”
Granny jerked at that, then finally broke the staring contest to glance at Jame. Her nostrils flared and she sniffed the air.
“We need to get Jame to the hospital so he can heal,” I went on. “Tell a few of your pack to help us get him on the stretcher, Granny.”
Mykal, an EMT and vampire, had wisely remained by the ambulance.
Granny dragged the blanket over her shoulders and lifted her chin.
Two of the wolves, a big grey and brown and a white and gray, moved slightly away from the dogpile and shifted.
It took them longer to change, and the painful sound of gristle and bone snapping and grinding filled the air. But if it was painful, they didn’t show it once they were back in their human forms. They just looked angry.
The two wolves were Rudy, who I’d last seen driving Granny away from Joe Boy’s gas station, and Fawn, who was one of Jame’s sisters.
Naked, it was impossible to miss their hard bodies covered in muscles. I didn’t think they’d need anyone else to help them get Jame on the stretcher. The wolves moved back as Ryder began maneuvering the stretcher closer. He was quickly relieved of that duty by a scowling Fawn.
Rudy and Fawn gently lifted Jame, who wasn’t moving, but seemed to be breathing a little more evenly. The rain had washed away a lot of the blood, but Jame was still half-shifted, and there had to be a lot more blood soaked into his fur.
At least the bite on his neck had closed up.
“I’ll need to ride with him,” Mykal said, handing each of them a blanket to wrap up in. “Both of you can come with me, make sure I’m treating him the way you want. He’s my friend. Not just because we work together.”
I couldn’t have thanked Mykal more for being so diplomatic with the Wolfes. Still, Rudy and Fawn glared at him as they rolled the stretcher to the back of the ambulance.
The Wolfes somehow wedged themselves into the ambulance along with Mykal, Fawn curling up beside her brother on the stretcher. The vehicle pulled out toward the hospital, lights flashing red, amber, white, siren screaming.
Now all I had to do was keep the remaining fangs and claws from getting into a rumble.
“We need to find Ben.” It was probably unnecessary to state the obvious, but I thought putting the point on the situation might be for the best. “Can either of you or your people track him?”
“Yes,” they both said.
It could have been taken as an agreement, but mostly it just sounded like a challenge.
“I want him back here alive,” I shot that toward Granny. She gave a slight nod, though she still wasn’t backing down from Rossi’s glare.
Jean walked over to us.
“Trillium’s on her way.” Trillium was Ordinary’s lone reporter, and kept the locals and tourists up-to-date on all the canned food drives, classes, and contests in town.
Also on the murders and assaults, though they were few and far between.
The Wolfes gathering at Granny’s back, had hackles up, heads down, but were silent. I didn’t know if silent was good.
“His blood’s on your hands, strigoi,” she said. “His pain, your debt now. We are not at peace.”
Rossi’s lips pulled back and I saw just the peak of fang. “He let my son be taken, bled, brutalized.” It came out part growl, part hiss. His eyes flooded with red and black.
I unconsciously reached down for the gun that was not on my hip, my hand accidentally brushing the bottle of powers I had stashed in my coat like a second-rate bootlegger.
Wild thoughts shot through my head. They were going to fight. Rossi and Granny were going to kill each other, and drag all the vamps and weres into a battle that Ordinary hadn’t seen since—no, had never seen.
Should I throw the god powers at his head? Would that stop a vampire? Or should I smash it on the ground like a smoke bomb between them?
“There are rules.”
It took me a minute to recognize that voice. It was Ryder. I didn’t recognize it because there was a timbre of power behind it. God power. But not really god power. More like weight or texture as if, along with his voice, something else was layered on top of it, or pushing through from behind it.
The alpha and prime turned to him.
It was...well, I don’t think I could have broken their staring contest that quickly.
Ryder didn’t look any different. He didn’t even appear surprised that the head werewolf and head vampire were holding off on a serious smack down only because he’d said something.
He frowned though, like he was remembering something he’d read in a book once.
“You have agreed upon terms of peace, both individually and between your people. This attack, on Jame and Ben, does not negate the conditions you agreed upon. Unless it is proved that either a Wolfe or a Rossi not only threatened, but also carried through with potentially life-ending violence.” His eyes focused, and he held Rossi’s gaze then Granny’s.
“There can be no war. Not until either Jame is able to testify to the events that led up to his injuries, or Ben is able to do the same.”
Ryder nodded, as if satisfied that he’d settled that problem. “In accordance to your agreements, you will both give the other what support is needed and you are capable of providing to come to a resolution of this situation. That means finding Ben. Both of you.”
I took a breath, held it.
No one told the prime vampire what to do. No one gave the alpha werewolf trotting orders.
Well, no one who wanted to keep their head attached to their spine.
“Warden,” Rossi sneered.
“What?” Myra and Jean asked at the same time.
Granny sniffed the air, as if she could smell the position Mithra had bestowed upon Ryder, and didn’t like the stink of it. “You let this go and happen?” she accused me.
“I told him not to. Said I’d take care of it. He didn’t listen.”
“Men,” Granny said.
“Right?”
“Never gonna listen.”
“Hey, now,” Ryder protested. But when all of us, including Rossi, gave him a look, he just sort of slumped and stared at his boots. “It’s not like there was another choice. You weren’t going to say yes.”
“No, I wasn’t. And don’t you think you should have taken that as a hint?”
“That you have authority issues?”
“That I’d refuse to tie myself to one deity’s skewed vision of justice? That I’d ever let one god tell me who to be, how to live? That I’d ever let a god change me like that?”
“I’m not changed.”
The silence said what we all thought about that.
Ryder scowled, then cussed softly. “I’m still myself, no matter what job or responsibilities I take on.”
“But...warden?” Jean bit her lip, and looked from Ryder to me then back to Ryder. “Do you understand what that means? What it means between you and Delaney?”
“So,” I said loudly, clapping my hands. “We need to find Ben. Now. Is there anything else we need to know before we pack this up and deal with the reporters and crime scene?”
“One thing,” Myra said quietly.
From her tone of voice I knew I wasn’t going to like it.
“The vampire hunters are dead.”