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“I know.” Brigid was one of the strongest healers in existence and she’d allied herself with Appalachia, making her home in North Carolina after years and years of wandering on foot. She worked with ill children at several hospitals throughout the state. She’d never drain herself and risk the chance that she might not have the energy to save a young, vulnerable life. A healing wouldn’t kill her, but if she was drained, it could take her days or weeks to recover.
She’d never risk not being able to save a child.
She’d lost too many already.
“Just... tell her the Days need a bit more time.”
Zeeneeded the time.
He silenced the whispering ghost of the boy he’d been. “I’ll be there soon. Who’s with him?”
There was a terse silence, then finally, Boone said, “Nobody, except Brigid.”
“Fuck.”
“What in the hell did you expect, Nikolai?” Boone muttered, his voice was full of the self-disgust Niko himself felt. “The only people who’d risk pissing you off are scattered across our territory on patrol or assigned to duties too integral for them to walk away from, even for a man dying alone. As far as the pack is concerned, the Days are persona non-grata.”
“What about his fucking kids?” Niko didn’t like the man, but no Therian should ever die alone.
“Liam’s on his way and I got a text from Alvarez that he was able to make contact with Etan, although the guy’s down in Central America on a dig. He can’t even fly out without a good five-hour drive. He’s on the move, but it’s a question of whether he’ll make it in time. We’re still trying to contact Saint. And Phoenix... hell, nobody knows if he’ll be able to leave or if he’d even want to be here.”
Niko bared his teeth in a silent snarl. If he could, he’d reach across the miles of terrain separating him from the Greylock pack and drag the alpha down here, even though he knew the two Day men were at odds. He’d never come to understand why, but they’d once come to blows. The fight had been so severe if somebody hadn’t intervened, Phoenix would have killed his father.
There were rumors that it hadn’t been the first time they’d fought until they’d bloodied and broke the other either.
“Make sure the prick notifies his sister at least,” Niko bit off.
“I’ve already got a text back from him. He sent one of his seconds out to find her.”
Niko frowned. “He can’t just call?”
He hated the knowledge, but he knew where she was. What she did for a living. Even where she lived. It was no secret. If he knew, surely Phoenix did.
Provincetown might be a couple hundred miles from Mount Greylock, but it was close enough that they should be in communication.
Another taut silence.
“We can talk semantics later, Niko. You need to get up to the hospital and I need to find somebody to cover me in case I have to hunt Saint down.”
“Wa—” But he was talking to dead air. Boone had already hung up.
“I’ll come with you.” Alison emerged from the bathroom, already showered and plaiting her long, wet hair. One of his regular scouts when she wasn’t working as a county deputy, Alison knew the importance of speed and efficiency in times of crisis. A packmate dying was definitely a crisis.
He frowned at her. “Why?”
She set her jaw. “My father died alone. It wasn’t because people didn’t care. They just couldn’t reach him in time. But it destroyed something inside me, Niko. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for him. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody, especially not a man who saved nine innocent children.”
* * * * *
THE MAN ON THE BEDhad grown thin over the years, especially compared to the last time Niko had seen him.
He’s a strong wolf, he’d said, not even a half hour ago.
But those words were no longer true.
Day lay on the bed, a mere shadow of himself.
The Appalachia Prime watched him with a lack of expression that revealed none of the torment this particular packmate’s scent evoked. Had anybody else in the pack looked in and seen them, most would only see a tall, broad-shouldered man with hair of golden brown, shot through with heavy streaks of blond, cropped close to his skull, arms crossed over his chest as he watched over one who lay on the bed, slowly and surely fading from this life.
