As they arrived, Cliff and Grant came trotting out of the forest, and Taylor started breathing again.
“What happened?” she cried out. From the grim looks on their faces, something had gone terribly wrong at the trials. Again.
Cliff pointed to two men hurrying out of the woods with Austin on a stretcher. He looked as pale as a ghost and his entire left side was drenched with blood, which dripped off his arm and splattered on the ground.
“If he’s still bleeding, he was shot with silver,” Taylor heard someone say.
Austin’s breath was coming in tortured pants. He gestured weakly at Grant and Cliff.
They hurried over. Taylor followed but stood back.
“I just want you to know…” Austin rasped weakly.
He coughed. They leaned in closer.
“Austin. Stay with us,” Grant said to him in a low, urgent voice.
“You’re fine. Anita’s here. Just hang in there,” Cliff urged him.
Anita kneeled down next to him and put her hands on his blood-drenched arm.
“I just want you to know…”
“Yes?” Cliff said.
“That you’re a couple of douchebags. Especially you,” he added to Cliff.
“Seriously? Grow up,” Cliff snapped at him.
“Does that mean I’d be like you? Tight-assed, miserable control freak? Doesn’t seem like…much…fun…” He passed out.
* * * * *
It was a long few hours back at Cliff’s mansion before they finally got word that Austin would pull through. He’d been shot with a silver bullet, but he’d dug it out of his shoulder with his claws before it poisoned him too badly. Nobody knew who’d shot him; whoever had done it had gotten away clean.
James began the lengthy, tedious process of truth-challenging every non-contestant who’d been in the area, to find out if any of them had shot Austin or sabotaged the rope course, or knew who had.
Austin had volunteered to drop out of the trials, but since Anita said he’d be healed in a few days, the Elders had refused. If he dropped out, he’d still be banished. Serafina had gone to his bedside and burst into tears and begged him not to drop out, so he’d reluctantly agreed.
Unfortunately, that meant that the trials would probably run past the full moon. They’d wanted to get them over with before then, but it couldn’t be helped.
Taylor was sitting in the parlor reading when Cliff brought in a plate of steak tartare. Before she knew what she’d done, she grabbed it out of his hands.
She practically inhaled the whole thing before stopping for breath. Then she said, “How did you know?”
“It’s that time of month.” He grinned at her. “So to speak. For the next few days, you’re going to be craving raw meat.”
She looked regretfully at the plate. “I didn’t leave any for you. I’m sorry.”
“You should be,” he said, looking deeply wounded. “We’re going to be mates. Sharing everything. And you didn’t leave me one little crumb.”
“Jeez. I’m not usually like that.” Then she looked at him closely. “Hey, you’ve got a chunk of raw meat on your collar!”
He flicked it off. “You got me. I ate three pounds of it in the kitchen before I came out here.”
“You’re an absolute son of a bitch.” She slapped at him, and he easily warded her off.
He laughed. “You’re just now figuring that out?”
