I put two and two together, and thought I was going to be sick. “It’s werewolf fur?”
“The trick is to keep them alive when you skin them, so their pelts don’t go back. And also to not wear it on a full-moon night. They’re very rare.”
Bile rose up in my throat. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Sike,” I said as she walked out my bedroom door.
“Do what you like. See you two nights from now. Cheers!” she called from down the hall.
I waited until she was gone, locked my front door, took the comforter and anything else her coat might have touched off my bed, put it into my laundry basket, turned up my thermostat, and went to sleep.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
I woke up thinking I only had two more nights of chaos to go. I showered and got ready for work robotically, hit a grocery store, and drove in. The black import car followed me again.
When I reached Y4, the assignment board had twice as many patients on it as usual—there were rooms A through H, holding John and Jane Decembers.
“They’re all still here, huh?” I said, looking over the board.
“Yeah, once this guy goes home—I’m going home too.” Charles pointed at his assignment, the one lone daytimer. All the donors that needed blood had dried up, so to speak. “Rachel’s coming in to help you guys.”
“Great.”
I got report from Lynn, who’d had rooms A through D during P.M. shift. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” I asked as we were co-signing charts together.
“No, and I’ve been here for fifteen years. They’re creepy.” She signed her name and clicked her pen shut. “Have a good night—I’m going to go home and try not to dream.”
My first patient was female. She was a little cleaner than the rest, but she stood like Gideon had not long ago, with her back toward me, staring at a point on the wall.
“Do you know what’s happening to you right now?” I came up beside her and pushed her gently to sit on the bed. “Has anyone talked to you about the choices you’ve made?” I kept trying. “Can you tell me your name?”
I saw movement outside the room and looked up—Gina was waiting for me by the door.
I pushed the woman back into the bed, then lifted up her feet, forcing her to lie down. I tucked her in and went to meet Gina outside.
“It’s the same up and down the line. Depressing,” Gina said.
“Is this normally how it goes?” I asked her. When Gina had infected herself for Brandon’s sake, she’d seemed to manage fine. It certainly hadn’t made her comatose.
“Not in the least. Usually weres are more full of life. Vibrant. Brash.”
I wasn’t sure those were the terms I’d have used to describe Lucas groping me last night. “Can we give them shots? Like the ones that cured you?”
“No. As the local pack, Deepest Snow assumed responsibility for them, as of this morning.”
“So?”
“You need consent for shots. None of them can give it right now, seeing as they can’t talk. And Deepest Snow won’t agree. They asked on day shift and Helen said no. Said she’ll integrate them somehow.” Because that worked so well with Viktor. Gina saw my frown. “I don’t like it any better than you do. Maybe they’ll straighten out by the end of the night. Lock all their doors, okay?”
“Okay.” I went to do it. I didn’t like it, but the only thing that’d make me feel worse than locking them inside their rooms would be having them out here with me.
* * *
Taking care of people who only sat and stared and breathed began to wear at my soul. It felt like someone was performing a cruel psychological test, and I was the lab rat. I hooked all of my people up to their oxygen saturation monitors, not because I was afraid they’d stop breathing, but because it’d tell me if they moved. I went out to the main nursing station, where Charles was, and sat in front of the main monitor to watch all their oscillating blue lines. Meaty sat across from us, doing paperwork.
“I needed to get out of crazy corner,” I explained to Charles.
“You shouldn’t have let them sucker you into so much were-stuff in the first place.”
“Gee, thanks.” I made a sour face. “Who’re you taking care of?”
“My one lone, lovely daytimer. He got a blood transfusion—vampire blood, half a cc—earlier today. He’ll be healed by dawn. It’s looking like I can take tomorrow night off.” Charles kicked his chair and wheeled aside.
“Don’t think I’m not jealous of you,” I told him.
“Why? You have it off too. Almost everyone will. Those weres should get better, and it won’t take a whole team to watch Winter die.”
“I have some other stuff to take care of tomorrow night.”
“I hope you have some fun, too. You’ve been serious lately, Spence. Too much work is taking the spirit out of you.”
“Don’t I know it.” I charted each of my patient’s oxygenations and heart rates for the hour. It was almost two. “How come you get to pick your assignment?”
“Because I’m the oldest nurse on the floor. Meanest, too, if you count that time I beat Meaty arm wrestling.”
Meaty snorted, but didn’t stop printing off medication reconciliation forms.
A phone rang. Not one of our normal phones, but an old-fashioned ring, like you heard in the background on old TV shows. Meaty started up, but Charles was closer and dug behind a tangle of power cords for the monitors and computers to bring out a dusty red phone.
“That’s the emergency phone, right?” I asked, guessing from the color, and Meaty nodded. I’d seen them on other floors—been in surgical ICU once on a float when they’d turned off the phones to work on them, but left that one on just in case. It looked like a child’s plaything, for kids who didn’t get to play with cell phones.
Charles’s face went dark. He handed the phone over to Meaty and then left the floor.
I wanted to run after Charles—but I didn’t want to leave Meaty alone.
“That’s unacceptable,” Meaty told whoever was on the other end of the line, then cupped a hand over the receiver. “Edie—fire drill. Now.”
Fire-drill protocol was to close all the doors just in case. I went down the hall to tell Rachel and Gina, and then went from room to room for the rest of the floor, starting with Charles’s daytimer. The man waved at me as I closed his door. I halfheartedly waved back.
When I returned, I gave Meaty a thumbs-up sign. Still on the phone, Meaty nodded and continued to frown. “No. I don’t care who you have to find. We have a contract with you.” Meaty’s voice dropped as the conversation continued. “I shouldn’t have to remind you about our agreement—the Consortium requires you,” Meaty said, then stopped and pulled the receiver away to glare at it.
“Meaty—what’s going on?”
Meaty slammed the red phone down in disgust. “They’re leaving.”
“Who?”
“The Shadows. A prisoner of theirs escaped, and they’re giving chase.” Meaty glared at the phone as if sheer anger could change things.
“Leaving?” I whispered.
Meaty’s gaze rose to mine. “No one else can know of this. Go get Charles.”
I wanted to ask more questions, but I ran off the floor.
* * *
I found Charles in the men’s locker room. I entered after I knocked on the door. “Charles—”
“Don’t even try to stop me, Edie.” I’d never been into the men’s locker room before. It looked a lot like the women’s, only there were a ton more empty lockers here. I looked away while Charles finished pulling on his clothing for outdoors. “If they’re gone, there’s no reason to stay.”
“Maybe they’ll be back fast,” I said, aware of how lame it sounded.
“Are you willing to bet your life on it?” The inside of Charles’s locker was decorated with black-and-white photos of a lovely middle-aged woman. He pulled out all his belongings and started taking down the pictures.
“She’s beautiful,” I said.
“She is. And I’m going to go spend some time with her now.” The photos he carefully pressed into an ancient nursing care book, then put this into a bag. “If the Shadows are gone, I don’t know how long we have left. I’m taking her, and I’m going away. Someplace warm—someplace safe.”
“You’ll take your cell phone with you, right?”
“Sure. But don’t bother texting me until this is through.” He pushed his feet into winter boots and reached for the door behind me. “It’s been nice knowing you, Spence. Don’t get any more scars.”
After that, he left. I walked back onto the floor in a daze. Charles had been my anchor on Y4. Knowing I could turn to him for help allowed me to feel safe. Now?
“Edie, your assignment’s changed. You’ve got Charles’s daytimer, too. Don’t worry, I’ll help.” Meaty’s voice was reasonable, even.
Don’t worry? I repeated inside my head. There was no way I could help it.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“Just let me go to the bathroom first,” I told Meaty.
“All right. I’ll see you when you get back,” Meaty said, with an emphasis on the word back. We couldn’t all abandon ship tonight. If word that the Shadows were gone got out—traveled into one of our patient rooms, wafted up the elevator, went around the corner—we’d all be sitting ducks for whatever came our way. Charles’s sudden absence we could explain, but not Charles’s and mine together.
“I’ll be back,” I promised, and then rushed back off the floor. I ran into the locker room, pulled out my purse, and dialed Jake. He didn’t answer. I tried him again, and again. Who else could I call? I thought about dialing Sike—but even if she wasn’t an assassin, she wasn’t likely to care. I scrolled through the names on my phone’s contact list—the only one who would understand the gravity of the situation, and might be able to do anything about it, was Asher. I hated to ask him for a favor again, but I dialed him anyway. He answered on the second ring.