“I just want to talk to you!” He ran alongside me, pounding on my car hood. Leaving dents.
“Jesus Christ!” I braced my arm on the passenger seat and looked behind me. There was an alley coming up. I wasn’t a stunt driver, but—
“I just want to talk!”
I yanked my steering wheel down and prayed there wasn’t any oncoming traffic. My car spun into the alley, and I put it into drive again, and then this time floored it. I traced my way down the dark street, watching him race behind me, arms still waving like an air traffic controller, until he gave up and the night made him disappear.
I caught the exit onto the freeway this time and drove straight in to work.
I parked nearby in the visitor lot, trusting the Shadows to keep me safe once I was on hospital grounds. What was Viktor doing skulking downtown? Was that a coincidence, or had he followed me there? Would Jake be safe? I should have asked Anna to protect him, too. The next time I paid attention to my surroundings I was in the elevator, dropping down to Y4.
On an impulse, I hit the STOP button and looked up. “Hey.” I rapped on the wall with my free hand. “Are you there, Shadows? It’s me, Edie,” I said. I waited in silence, then sighed. “Which is it, you have no sense of humor, or no knowledge of popular literature?”
More silence. I felt sure they were listening in, though. “You’d better protect him from weres, too,” I told the ceiling. And then I let the STOP button go.
I arrived on Y4 an hour early. Charles came into the break room while I was fishing in the back of the fridge for my emergency Diet Coke.
“Hey, Edie! Did they call you in, too?”
“I was down here already, and the weather was bad, so there was no point in driving home,” I lied. “Why? We busy?”
“When aren’t we,” Charles said, and passed by me to take a Hot Pocket out of the freezer, popping it into the microwave as I cracked open my Coke. “So many donors came in last night. What the hell did they need all that blood for?”
After my chat with Anna this A.M., I had a suspicion. I sat down, since technically I wasn’t on yet. “Charles, have the Shadows ever let you down?”
He turned around from the microwave. “Why do you ask?”
“Your scar. The one you showed me. They didn’t protect you then, right? But—whatever they’re trading you, to keep you here, surely they’ve made good on that.”
“Yeah,” he said, and behind him, the microwave counted down backward, seconds ticking away.
“What is it? If I can ask?”
He made a thoughtful face and let out a huge sigh. “My wife needed a heart transplant. She was low on the list.”
“So … the Shadows moved her up?”
“Nope. She just got better.”
“Oh. God.” His wife—that’d mean he could never stop working at Y4. I mean, he could, but if he did … there was a distinct chance she’d die. That was an entire level of horror above the way they’d trapped me into working there. There was always the slim but possible chance that Jake might someday decide to stay clean. There was a ding, and Charles retrieved his Hot Pocket from inside the oven. “Damn.”
“Exactly. How’d they get you?”
“My brother’s a mess. Junkie. Homeless. Clueless as hell.” I wished I could confide in Charles, but I knew I shouldn’t. He had enough on his plate—plus he’d already warned me away from the weres. “There’s just so much stuff going on right now, I get worried about him.”
“Well, I don’t like the Shadows, but I don’t think they’ll abandon ship just yet. This place is prime feeding territory. Where else would they go?” He bit into his Hot Pocket, hissing as it released steam.
“I can’t believe you’re a grown man, and you still eat those.”
“If you ever meet my wife, don’t rat me out. She makes me sandwiches, but I always pick up one of these on the way in.” His phone rang from his pocket. “Speaking of,” he said with a grin, reaching for it.
“She waits up for you every night?”
“She’s a night owl too. We make a good team.”
I smiled at him. It was nice to see that sometimes relationships worked. I took my Coke and ducked out the door.
If I stayed down in Y4, they’d put me to work. I hopped back into the elevator, made it take me to trauma ICU.
I’d get in trouble if I keyed myself into the computer looking up patient data on Jake’s behalf, but with an exposed badge and a couple of open windows, I could make a thorough snoop. There couldn’t be that many white guys with dreadlocks at the hospital. Javier and Luz were gone; their room held a woman colored Oompa Loompa orange with liver failure instead. I bet she sounded like Gideon. And I bet Javier was at a skilled nursing facility, and Luz was still being strong for him, at least for now. She was tough, but it was young love, so it wouldn’t last—said me, the person who refused to admit she’d ever been in love before.
I quickly walked through all the ICUs. Satisfied that at least I’d tried on Jake’s behalf, I texted him as I waited for another elevator.
Ur friend isn’t here. And then, before I could think things through or regret it, I typed, & still thinking about ur idea.
Faster than I would have been able to type it myself I got, Thanks Sissy. I owe you, back from him in return.
Par for the course. The elevator arrived and I went back to Y4.
I changed into scrubs after my time skirting the HIPAA privacy line, and was just about on time.
Meaty saw me coming out of the locker room hallway. “I just made the assignments. You’ll be around the corner tonight. Gina called in sick.”
“I bet she did.”
Meaty’s eyebrows raised with a silent question, and I shook my head. “Never mind.” I couldn’t blame Gina for wanting a shift off after the night she’d had. “Who am I up with?”
“Rachel.”
I made a face after Meaty passed by. Rachel was a four-legs-good, two-legs-bad kind of vet. She worked opposite weekends from Charles and me. On the rare shifts I had had with her, I’d never seen her hang out her co-workers much—so much so that I got the opinion that she hated us. Being in the were-corral corner with only her to talk to for eight hours would be hell.
As if mentioning her had summoned her, Rachel swung open Y4’s double doors. “Edie, I need help. There’s visitors.”
My first reaction was to be surprised she knew my name. After that I paused for a moment, waiting for her complaint to go farther, then realized that was her complaint in its entirety. Visitors. Outside her patient’s door. I nodded. “I’ll be there in a second.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Rachel was standing near Lynn, the P.M. shift outgoing nurse, giving very meaningful looks toward Helen, who also stood nearby. She was dressed in head-to-toe black, the color of mourning, and it didn’t suit her; it made her look too pale.
“Hey there,” I said, giving Helen a smile. “Want to go get coffee?” She was a high-ranking were—I wondered if talking to her would count? There weren’t any other weres around. I wondered how many needed to be listening in to officially kick-start the sanctuary engines of public humiliation and shame. At least where shame was concerned, I didn’t have any.
I watched Helen resurfacing from her distant thoughts, to focus slowly on me. “Hmm? Oh—it’s you. I don’t think I ever got your name.”
“Edie,” I said, putting my hand out.
“Helen,” she said, which I already knew. She shook my hand, hers warm but limp. Behind her, Rachel kept making furtive shoving gestures off to the side. “Do you think I’ll miss anything?”