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That stung. It stung hard and deep, even though I knew he didn't mean it to. He was trying, in his own clumsy way, to comfort me. We headed toward the lunchroom, where he plugged a dol ar in the vending machine and handed me a carton of milk. Another dol ar, and he handed me a package of Cheetos.
We sat at one of the tables. The room was comfortable; Chase made sure his employees felt at home, that was for sure. A cot in the corner offered a place for a quick nap in case one of the officers was required to stick around on cal .
Chase opened the refrigerator and pul ed out a sack lunch. I watched as he emptied it on the table in front of him. Bologna sandwich, pudding cup, an apple . . . He bit into the sandwich while I munched on the Cheetos. He'd been right--my stomach rumbled, and I realized I was starving.
"You think she'l be okay?" I final y managed to ask.
"You know Sharah can work wonders. Camil e wil be fine. I know it," he said, but he didn't sound so sure. He pul ed out his notebook. "Let me make certain I have al the details right before I send Shamas out hunting for . . . Amber, is it? Amber Johanson?"
I nodded and ran through the events again. After I finished, Chase stared at the page, then nodded. "Let me get this over to his desk right now--and let me get a photocopy of that picture. I'l be back in a moment." As he stood up, Sharah entered the room.
"Delilah, you can come with me now. Camil e's going to be okay, though she's stil a little out of it."
Chase touched me lightly on the arm. "I'l meet you in there."
Sharah led me back to the medical unit and through the doors leading to the ER. Along the way, she shook her head. "She's awake, but the spel wreaked havoc with her magical senses. She should be okay, but that was one heck of a jolt she got."
"What the hel was it? Do you know yet? Even getting near the residue made me dizzy."
Camil e was sitting, propped up in a bed, and Sharah was right; she looked out of it. She was breathing rapidly and shivering even under the blanket, and her eyes were darker and narrowed, like those of a frightened cat's.
Chase came through the doors and handed me back the photo. He took one look at Camil e and said, "Crap," as he pushed past us and strode over to her. "I've seen you take some nasty bumps, but I've never seen you look like this."
Sharah slid onto a stool and flipped open the chart. "That's because she was so disoriented, she couldn't even open her eyes until a few minutes ago.
Once we figured out what was wrong, we gave her a drug to counter the effects of the magic. Apparently she was conscious the entire time. Camil e--try to say something now."
"I . . . I . . . wh-wh-what the fuck happ--. . . happened?" Her teeth were chattering, as if she was freezing.
"What did happen? I know whatever it was almost knocked me for a loop when I started over to see if she was okay." I frowned, hoping that whatever it was wouldn't have any long-term effects.
"One of our techs figured out the trap. Think ecstasy or roofies, only magical. Geared toward werewolves in specific. Though any Were wil react to it,"
Sharah added, looking at me. "Which is why you felt so disoriented even near the remains."
I mul ed this over. "If I was a werewolf . . ."
She nodded slowly. "If you were a werewolf, you would have been done in by a mere whiff. Camil e reacted the way she did because, although she's not a Were, she's a witch, and her magic is incompatible with the effects of this magic. But a werewolf like your friend Amber . . . she'd be immediately pliable and under control if she caught a whiff or two of this crap."
"Wel , hel ." I frowned. "Who created this spel ? Could a werewolf have done it? Or, I guess the question is, would a werewolf have done it?"
Sharah's lips tightened. She motioned to Chase to shut the door. After he'd done so, she flipped through her notes. "A werewolf would have to be a sociopath to do something like this. Seriously. The ingredients that make up that spel compound--the gas that burst out--contain some heavy-duty dark magic. And not like Camil e's death magic, not dark in that way. We're talking sorcery here."
"Oh, my gods. What are you trying to say?" I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach I wasn't going to want to hear what she had to say.
"I'm saying that the person who created this is a sadist. Has to be. I had Mal en analyze it, and he was just as shocked as I was to see the results."
"What's it contain?" Camil e managed to push herself to a ful sitting position. She looked like she was starting to snap out of it.
Sharah's face was drawn, and she paled even further. "This is bad, guys. The herbs--not so much, but the other ingredients needed to give it a punch are pretty gruesome. Valerian, marijuana, chamomile, and grain alcohol . . . al standard for a control ing gas--and a couple of them dangerous enough on their own. But then we found desiccated scent gland extract from a male alpha lycanthrope added to the mix. And powdered pituitary gland--also from an alpha werewolf. Male, because of the amount and the trace smel . Mal en said he's seen this sort of thing before. I'm going to bring him in and have him explain it to you."
She disappeared out the door, and I looked over at Chase, who shook his head. "I don't know what it means, either," he said.
Pale and shaky, Camil e forced herself to sit up and slide her feet over the edge of the bed, clinging to the side rails. "I know what it takes to make that crap. I've heard of it, though it's not al owed in most covens or coteries."
"Wouldn't we have heard about it being used around Seattle?" I asked.
"I'm not so sure. But--"
