I pulled off my gloves and threw them away. She washed her hands with the cleaner. The windows were vibrating percussively with each blow. I tried not to look at them there, slavering, smearing spit and blood on the barred windows.
“We can’t stay here,” Sike said. “Did you have another plan?”
“There’s an emergency exit through the accounting department, down to the loading docks.”
Sike inhaled deeply. “Let’s go.”
Gideon opened the back door for us, and we started running—or hobbling in my case—down the back halls.
I heard a skittering of claws on a tile floor. Sike heard it first. She flung her arm out, catching me in my side.
A wolf turned the corner and ran down the hall at us. Helen’s wolf, gray and blond, slowed.
“Helen—Viktor somehow—” But it wasn’t Viktor, never had been, all along. Viktor had tried to warn me. And I was wearing Jorgen’s blood—Jorgen, who had hit Winter with his truck. House Grey had gotten the werewolf paw-print water from somewhere. From … someone.
I stepped forward. “Helen—it’s not too late. You can stop this. Call those other weres off.”
Helen twisted her head to one side, as if to pity me, then started trotting forward again. Sike pulled me back again.
“Is there another way for you to go?” Sike asked me without taking her eyes off Helen.
“Sike, she’ll kill you.” Sike was only a daytimer, and Helen was a major wolf on a full-moon night.
“You’re just a human, Edie. I’ve got a chance. Take the gimp and go.”
“Sike—” I warned.
“Go!” Sike shoved me toward Gideon, sending me to my knees. Gideon caught me and picked me up as Sike blocked Helen’s path. “You know you want a fight, fucking were,” she taunted. Helen snarled. I got to my feet and looked back at her, one last time, red hair streaming down her back like arterial blood.
I ran as fast as I could through a bureaucratic maze, aided by Gideon and Meaty’s map. I shinned myself on copier trays, caught my hips on the edges of desks, bouncing down the accounts and billing floor like a pinball.
It didn’t matter what I hit or what hit me. I felt numb. Sike was gone. Meaty’s directions led me to the end of the accounting floor. I went into a file storage closet and found the shelves disturbed to reveal pieces of flooring pulled off and a hole underneath. I reached inside, felt metal, and undid a latch. I heard a howl behind me—I jumped into the space in the floor. I screamed as I fell and landed on cold cement, then scrambled out of the way just before Gideon climbed down behind me.
“About time you got here!” Rachel reached up, shut the trapdoor behind me, and spun a lock.
Gina put her rifle down to help me up. “It’s called a ladder, Edie.”
“You all were waiting?”
“Well, I figured on this particular night, a werewolf would have a problem opening the door.” Gina gave me a thumbs-up to demonstrate why. “Still bad up there?”
“From bad to worse.” I leaned on her. “Where’s Meaty?”
“Up ahead.”
My charge nurse stood at the end of the hall, where we quietly joined them. It got colder as we neared—I realized we were outside, or heading toward it. The loading docks. We were only safe as long as no one knew we were here.
Meaty shone a flashlight at the thing ahead of us—a glinting wall of ice. “Snowbank. Must not have gotten any deliveries for a few days.” Then the light was flashed at me. I threw up a hand to cover my eyes. “Edie—what happened?”
I felt my face crumple. I couldn’t say the words and not cry. “A friend of mine just died.”
Compassion flowed across my charge nurse’s face. “Oh, Edie. You should know by now that we can’t save everyone.” Meaty reached out, and I folded into Meaty’s huge chest and bawled like a child.
We huddled together. Meaty kindly held me till it reached that awkward stage, and I stepped away, but not too far, because it was cold and events were still frightening. Each breath I took fogged the air, made my bronchioles tight.
“We can’t stay here all night,” I said.
“Want to go back, nearer the angry werewolves?” Rachel said, her teeth chattering.
“I’ve got us covered. Just wait it out,” Gina said.
A paw clawed through the snow ahead of us. I ducked. Rachel and Meaty jumped, reaching for their rifles.
“No no no!” Gina said, stepping forward, waving their guns down. Another paw scissored through the compacted snow, and even colder air rushed in from beyond. She looked over her shoulder at me. “Edie—this is Brandon.”
The bear unearthed himself. Rachel and Meaty still had their guns ready, but lowered. Gina ran forward, and I lunged after her. I couldn’t take losing anyone else tonight—
The bear caught her, and she snuggled against his chest. His giant head came down and nuzzled the back of her neck, looking at the rest of us with intelligent eyes. Gina turned back to me, smiling.
“Just because he can’t text me back doesn’t mean he can’t read.” She patted her cell phone in her pocket.
“I guess he’s a Care Bear, after all,” I said.
She reached out and hit my arm, exactly where my shot had been.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Through a series of yes/no questions, Brandon convinced us we probably wouldn’t die once we emerged. We followed him out of the drift, and I realized why—he’d brought bear friends. Twenty full bears, different sizes and colors, but massive and shaggy in every way. They formed a diamond pattern around us and led us away from the loading docks and toward the front of the hospital.
I didn’t know where we’d go, or how we’d manage to fix things. The contingent of weres was still howling in the hospital behind us—I wondered if Jake was among their number, if the Shadows had stopped protecting him from his folly the second they left town. We headed for the tree line surrounding the visitor parking lot, and as we arrived a shadow separated itself from among their number.
“I had wondered if you’d survive this mess.” The voice came from a trench-coated, sickle-bearing vampire with a large bag at his feet—Dren. Almost a sight for sore eyes. Then I realized again that Sike was gone, and my chest got two sizes too small. He began walking toward us, dragging the bag behind him. “I heard it went well for the fearsome child. I believe I have something of interest for her.”
Brandon got up on his two hind legs and made a threatening noise.
“Shush, beast. My fight’s not with you.” Dren put his hand on his sickle’s holster and scanned around. Behind him the weres scented us—they began to turn away from the building and lope in our direction. A car pulled up and stopped in the lot beyond us, skidding in the snow.
“Are you with us or with them?” Meaty asked Dren.
“He’ll be with you, if he knows what’s good for him.” Anna stepped out of the car, then she looked to me. “I know about Sike.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
Grief washed over Anna’s face, then was quickly replaced by anger. “I should have made her a full vampire when I had the chance. Which wolf was it?”
The only reason she was asking, I knew, was so that she could kill it. And I didn’t care. “Helen—the matriarch. She’s yellow and gray.”
“And what has been the point of all this?” Anna threw her arm out at the carnage of the hospital behind us. Turning, I could see pinpricks of light growing bolder—the beginnings of fires.
“I believe I have someone who can answer that for you.” Dren kicked the bag he carried. “Anna, newly minted member of the Sanguine, meet an emissary from House Grey. He’s the one who gave blood to Winter the elder. His own blood, to be precise.”