The Lunatic Cafe

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.



38



Edward was leaning against my Jeep, arms crossed, breath fogging in the air. The temperature had dropped by twenty degrees with the dark. The freeze was back on. All the meltwater had turned to ice. The snow crunched underfoot.



"What are you doing here, Edward?"



"I was about to come up to your apartment when I saw you coming down."



"What do you want?"



"I want to play," he said.



I stared at him. "Just like that. You don't know what I'm involved in, but you want a piece of it."



"Following you around lets me kill a lot of people."



Sad, but true. "I don't have time to argue. Get in."



He slid in the backseat. "Who exactly are we going to kill tonight?"



Richard started the engine. I buckled up. "Let's see. There's a renegade policeman, and whoever's kidnapped seven shapeshifters."



"The witches didn't do it?"



"Not all of it."



"You think I'll get to kill any lycanthropes tonight?" He was teasing Richard, I think.



Richard wasn't offended. "I've been thinking about who could have taken them all without a struggle. It had to be someone they trusted."



"Who would they trust?" I asked.



"One of us," he said.



"Oh, boy," Edward said, "lycanthrope on the menu for tonight."



Richard didn't correct him. If it was all right with him, it was all right with me.



39



Williams lay crumpled on his side. He'd been shot at close range through the heart. Two shots. So much for the doctorate.



One hand was wrapped around a .357 Magnum. I was even betting that there would be powder on his skin, as though he'd really fired the gun.



Deputy Holmes and her partner, whose name I couldn't remember, were lying in the snow dead. The Magnum had taken most of her chest. Her pixielike features were slack and not half so pretty. With her eyes staring straight up she didn't look asleep. She just looked dead.



Her partner was missing most of his face. He was collapsed in the snow, blood and brains melting through the frozen snow. His gun was still gripped in his hand.



Holmes had gotten her gun out, too. For what good it did her. I doubted either one of them had shot Williams, but I'd have bet a month's pay that one of their guns had.



I knelt in the snow and said, "Shit."



Richard stood by Williams. He was staring at him as if he'd memorize him. "Samuel didn't own a gun. He didn't even believe in hunting."



"You knew him?"



"I'm in Audubon, remember."



I nodded. None of it seemed real. It looked staged. Would he get away with it? No. "He's dead," I said, softly.



Edward came to stand beside me. "Who's dead?"



"Aikensen. He's still walking and talking but he's dead. He just doesn't know it yet."



"Where do we find him?" Edward asked.



Good question. I didn't have a good answer. My beeper went off, and I screamed. One of those little yip screams that are always so embarrassing. I checked the number with my heart thundering in my chest.



I didn't recognize the number. Who could it be, and could it possibly be important enough to call back tonight? I'd left my beeper number with the hospital. I didn't know their number, either. I had to answer it. Hell, I needed to call Chief Garroway and tell him his people had walked into an ambush. I could make both calls from Williams's house.



I trudged towards the house. Edward followed. We were on the porch before I realized that Richard wasn't with us. I turned back. He had knelt down beside Williams. I thought at first he was praying, then realized he was touching the bloody snow. Did I really want to know? Yeah.



I walked back over. Edward stayed on the porch without being asked. Point for him. "Richard, are you all right?" It was a stupid question with a man he knew dead at his feet. But what else was I supposed to ask?



His hand closed over the bloody snow, crushing it. He shook his head. I thought he was just angry, or grief stricken, until I saw the sweat on his face.



He turned his face upward, eyes closed. The moon rode full and bright, heavy and silver white. The light was almost daylight bright this far away from the city. Wisps of cloud rode the sky, made luminous with moonshine.



"Richard?"



"I knew him, Anita. We've gone birding together. We talked about his doctorate thesis. I knew him, and now all I can think of is the smell of blood and how warm he still is."



He opened his eyes and looked at me. There was sorrow in his eyes, but mostly there was darkness. His beast was looking out through his eyes.



I turned away. I couldn't hold his gaze. "I've got to make this phone call. Don't eat any of the evidence." I walked away across the snow. It had been too long a night.



I called from the phone in Williams's kitchen. I called Garroway first, told him what we'd found. Once he could breathe, he cursed a bit and said he'd come himself. Probably wondering if things would have turned out differently if he'd come in the first place. Command decisions are always hard.



I hung up and dialed the number on my beeper. "Hello."



"This is Anita Blake. This number was left on my beeper."



"Anita, this is Kaspar Gunderson."



The swan man. "Yes, Kaspar, what is it?"



"You sound awful. Has something happened?"



"Lots, but why did you beep me?"



"I found Jason."



I stood a little straighter. "You're kidding."



"No, I found him. I've got him at my house now. I've been trying to contact Richard. Do you know where he is?"



"With me."



"Perfect," he said. "Can he come take charge of Jason before he changes?"



"Well, yeah, I guess so, why?"



"I'm just a bird, Anita. I'm not a predator. I can't control an inexperienced werewolf."



"Okay, I'll tell him. Where's your house?"



"Richard knows where it is. I've got to get back to Jason, keep him calm. If he loses it before Richard arrives, I'm running for cover. So if I don't answer the doorbell, you'll know what happened."



"Are you in danger from him?"



"Just hurry." He hung up.



Richard had come inside. He was standing in the doorway looking bemused, as if listening to music only he could hear.



"Richard?"



His head moved slowly towards the sound of my voice like a video running on slow speed. His eyes were pale golden yellow, the color of amber.



"Jesus," I said.



He didn't look away. He blinked his new eyes at me. "What is it?"



"Kaspar called. He found Jason. He's been trying to get you. Says he can't control him once he changes."



"Jason's all right," he said. He gave it that questioning lilt.



"Yes, are you all right?"



"No, I have to change soon or the moon will pick the time for me."



I didn't exactly understand that statement, but he could explain in the car. "Edward can drive, in case the moon picks going down Highway Forty-four as the perfect time."



"Good idea, but Kaspar's house is just up the mountain."



"What do you mean?"



"Kaspar lives just up the road."



"Great, let's go."



"You'll have to leave Jason and me up there," he said.



"Why?"



"I can make sure he doesn't hurt anybody, but he has to hunt. I'll take him out here. There are deer in the woods."



I stared at him. He was still Richard. Still my sweetie, but... His eyes were the color of pale amber, startling in his dark face.



"You're not going to change in the car, are you?" I asked.



"No. I would never endanger you. I have complete control over my beast. It's what being an alpha wolf means."



"I wasn't worried about being eaten," I said. "I just didn't want you to get that clear junk all over my new seats."



He flashed a smile. It would have been more comforting if his teeth hadn't been just a little pointier than usual.



Jesus H. Christ.