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Ethan nodded as he put his ID away. “Clear this area for me, and don’t let anyone come past that last table. I’ll take care of it.”
The guard began pushing people back. Ethan waited until there was no possible chance of anyone seeing inside, then stepped back and kicked the door open.
The werewolf lay at the base of one of the stalls, a glittering silver knife lodged deep in his heart. He’d been caught early in the change, so that he looked like a malformed human who hadn’t shaved in years. At least it meant he didn’t have to explain the existence of werewolves to anyone—though he suspected Mark might know more than what he was saying on that subject.
Kat lay on the floor under the window, blood pooling around her face. A face that was mottled, and lips that were blue. For an instant everything seemed to freeze—his heart, his mind, his body—but then he was beside her, quickly feeling for a pulse.
It was there—rapid, weak, but there. Relief surged through him but just as swiftly fled when he saw the silver garrote still around her neck. He swore and released the wire’s tension, easing it away from her burned and bloodied flesh.
She coughed, then sucked in air, her whole body shaking with the urgency to breathe. He pinched her cheeks, trying to gain her attention. The danger was far from over yet.
“Kat, did he bite you?”
She rolled onto her back and continued to suck in air. Blood poured from the vicious wounds on her right hand, and her neck was burned and swollen around the paper-thin cut. He couldn’t see any bite marks, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any, especially seeing as the werewolf was partway through the change. Even a bite from a berserker in human form could be deadly.
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently. “Katherine, did he bite you?”
She shook her head and opened her eyes. They were brown rather than green.
“Don’t think—” The rest of her words were lost to a bout of coughing that left her shaking.
He swore under his breath and did a quick but careful check. He couldn’t see anything resembling a bite and relaxed a little. But she was still cut and bleeding, and he had to treat both wounds as soon as possible. He stripped off his jacket and wrapped it around her. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Soul-sucker,” she gasped. “Outside.”
“Kat, you can’t go after it like this—”
“No. But it may—” She stopped and coughed so hard her face went red.
“Attack?” he finished, and she nodded.
Given the commotion they’d raised in the last ten minutes, he very much doubted it. This thing, whether it was human or
something else entirely, was smart, and hanging around in a place about to be invaded by cops wasn’t smart. With any luck, by now it was halfway back to the hell that had spawned it. He just had to hope it wasn’t taking Janie with it.
He took a business card from his wallet, scrawled the cabin’s address on the back, then slipped his arms under her and carefully picked her up.
“Tell me if you sense it,” he said.
She nodded and closed her eyes, leaning her head against his shoulder. Coarse blond hair scratched at his nose. The wig didn’t suit her. It made her look brassy and cheap, and she was neither of those. But at least it might prevent her from being recognized by anyone later. He wasn’t going to be so lucky.
And Benton was going to be furious.
He carried her out of the restroom and stopped near the security guard. “Call the sheriff, then call this number.” He handed the man the card and pointed to the department’s phone number. “Get hold of Detective Fairfield and tell him Detective Morgan has found another suspect.” The sheriff and Benton weren’t going to be happy about his interference, but right now, Ethan didn’t care.
“Is the lady all right?”
“Yeah. If they want to talk to me, I’m staying at the address on the back.”
The guard flicked the card over and nodded. “And the lady?”
“Will be with me.”
He headed for the door. The night outside was cool, unfettered by the odors of sweat and lust and curiosity. He took a deep breath, clearing his head as he walked toward the car. Kat’s sweet scent surrounded him, stirring his blood once more. Even bloody and bruised, she still smelled good. Still felt good.
He unlocked the car and placed her upright on the backseat. She stirred, blinking rapidly. Her breathing had evened out, but her mouth was still pinched with pain.
He squatted down next to her and opened up the small first-aid kit. Inside there was antiseptic, swabs, bandages, and a small pouch of dried herbs. Obviously, Kat and her grandmother considered the herbs to be a cure-all for all manner of wounds. And while it went against every instinct to use such unconventional healing methods, they’d worked almost miraculously on the wound in her arm. He wasn’t about to gainsay their benefits when she was bleeding all over the seat and he had nothing else.
