Night's Master (11 page)

“The hotheads who started the fight don’t care about that. They’re like the old-time terrorists. They don’t care who they hurt or how many innocent lives they take, all they want to do is kill.”

“And innocent people like Susie are going to be caught in the middle?” I shook my head. “It isn’t right!”

“Hopefully, Mara and Clive will resolve it soon.”

“How will they do that?” I wanted an answer, and I wanted it now.

“I don’t know, exactly. I just know they’re working on it.” I must have looked doubtful, because he added, “They’re trying to talk some sense into the more militant ones on both sides.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“The ones who refuse to listen, who refuse to end the fighting, will be stopped.”

“Oh.” I didn’t have to ask how that would be accomplished. Justice among the Supernatural creatures was notoriously swift and final.

Worrying about the future, mine or Susie’s or Rafe’s, wouldn’t help. It never did. Feeling suddenly tired and depressed, I rested my head on Rafe’s shoulder and closed my eyes.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, Rafe was shaking me gently.

“Oh, sorry,” I murmured. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s all right.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “You should go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I walked him to the door where he took me in his arms and spent a few moments kissing me good night. One last hug and a warning to keep my doors and windows locked, and he vanished into the darkness. I stared after him for a moment, wondering if I would ever get used to the way he seemed to just disappear into nothingness.

With a shake of my head, I locked the door, then went through the house, checking the back door and the windows before I went into the guest room to look in on Susie. She was sleeping on her side, her head pillowed on her hand. Her cheeks were damp with tears. It made me hurt inside to look at her, to know what she had been through, to know that she would have to live with what had been done to her for the rest of her life.

Heavy-hearted, I went into my room to get ready for bed.

I wasn’t sure what woke me. Sitting up, I turned on the light beside my bed and glanced around. Everything was as it should be. And then I heard it, the faint creak of the loose floorboard in the hallway.

Thinking that Susie might need something, I got up and slipped into my robe. I was headed for the guest room when I noticed the light was on in the kitchen.

I sighed, thinking a nightmare had probably awakened her.

I came to a dead stop in the doorway, my stomach churning at the scene before me. “Susie! What have you done?”

She looked up at me, her eyes wide and scared. Blood dripped like crimson raindrops from the ugly gash in her left arm.

I stared at her a moment longer, then grabbed a dish towel and wrapped it tightly around her wrist. Grabbing my keys and my handbag, I urged Susie outside and into my car. Settling her in the front seat, I slid behind the wheel and drove to the hospital as fast as I dared, grateful all the while that Oak Hollow was a small town and that the hospital was less than five minutes away.

I hit the brakes hard, tires screeching as the car jolted to a halt in front of the emergency entrance. Getting out of the car, I practically dragged Susie inside.

One look at her pale face and the bloody towel wrapped around her wrist stilled any questions the night nurse might have had. Calling for a doctor, stat, she led Susie into the nearest examination area and drew the curtain.

A short time later, a doctor hurried down the hall and into the ER.

I paced the ugly green hallway from one end to the other and back again. I had known Susie was upset, but I had never expected her to do anything like this.

“Rafe, where are you when I need you?”

I had no sooner murmured the words than he was there beside me.

I was too happy to see him to question his abrupt appearance. He opened his arms, and I went into them gladly, grateful for his nearness and his strength.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

“Susie slit her wrist.”

Rafe muttered an oath. “Is she going to be all right?”

“I don’t know. The doctor’s with her now. Oh, Rafe, if I hadn’t woke up when I did…” I buried my face against his chest. Another few minutes, and I would have been too late.

After a time, he guided me to a chair. I sat down, and he took the chair beside mine, my hand clasped in his. I don’t know how long we sat there. It might have been two minutes, it might have been two hours, but finally the doctor came out of the cubicle.

I stood as he approached; Rafe stood beside me. “How is she?”

“She’s lost quite a bit of blood, but I’m confident she’ll recover. I’ll have to report this to the police.” He pulled a pen from his pocket. “I’ll need your name for the report.”

“Katherine McKenna.”

“Are you a relative?”

“No, just a friend.”

“Have you notified Mr. McGee?”

“No.” I wondered how he knew who Susie’s husband was, and then it came to me. She’d had three kids and this was the only hospital in town.

The doctor made a note on his pad.

“Can I see her?” I asked.

The doctor scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I don’t see why not, but only for a few minutes. We’ve given her a sedative to help her sleep, so she might be a little groggy. She’s been moved to…” He checked the chart in his hand. “To Room 14,” he said. “Last door on the right.”

“You go on,” Rafe said. “I’ll wait here.”

With a nod, I hurried down the hallway. I hated hospitals. I hated the sounds and the smells. It seemed to me that Death was always lurking in the shadows, waiting for the weak and the unwary.

I paused outside Susie’s room; then, taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. Susie lay on a narrow bed, a thick white bandage wrapped around her wrist. There were hollows in her cheeks, dark circles beneath her eyes. She was hooked up to an IV.

“Susie?” Standing beside the bed, I smoothed a lock of hair from her brow. “Susie, can you hear me?”

Her eyelids fluttered open. “Kathy? Forgive me…I’m so ashamed.”

“You’re gonna be fine, just fine.”

“Rick won’t be able to say it was just my imagination this time,” she said weakly, and burst into tears.

Words failed me. Sitting on the edge of Susie’s bed, I took her hand in mine and prayed that would be comfort enough.

I stayed with Susie until she fell asleep, and then, feeling as though I’d been run through an emotional wringer, I tiptoed out of her room.

Rafe was waiting for me in the hallway. “How is she?”

“Sleeping.”

He took my hand as we left the hospital. When we reached my car, he didn’t ask if I wanted him to drive me home, he just opened the door for me and then got behind the wheel. Neither of us spoke until we were heading back to my place.

I thought about all the things that I had read about Werewolves. Most of it had been based on speculation, rumor, and myth. But what had happened to Susie was all too real.

“What will become of her now?” I asked. “How can she raise her family, be a wife and a mother, when she’s a…a Werewolf?”

“That’s up to her,” Rafe said.

“Up to her? What does that mean? She didn’t ask for this. And what about the monster who did it to her?”

“She can learn to control what she is, or she can let what she’s become control her. She can accept it, or she can wallow in self-pity. Being a Werewolf isn’t the worst thing in the world. She’ll be the same as she’s always been except for those nights when the moon is full.”

“And then what? She’ll turn furry and run around the countryside killing people?”

“I’ll get in touch with Clive. He can send one of his pack to help her learn to adjust to her new life, teach her how to control her beast.”

“Her beast.” I repeated the words. If this seemed like a nightmare to me, how much worse was it for Susie? I couldn’t help wondering how her husband and children would react when they heard the news. I had only met Rick McGee once, briefly, after church. Susie had never said much about him, making me wonder what kind of man he was, what kind of marriage they had. I just hoped he would be as supportive as possible under the circumstances.

“We all have problems to deal with,” Rafe remarked. “Some people are born with physical deformities, some have mentally handicapped children, some people are married to alcoholics.” He shrugged. “I’ve never known anyone who had a perfectly carefree life.”

“So, do you think of being a Vampire as a problem?”

He shrugged. “In a way. I could have let it ruin my life. I could have turned my back on my humanity and let the lust for blood consume me. Instead, I chose to look at it as a kind of sickness that imposes limits on what I can and can’t do. On the other hand, it’s given me some remarkable powers.”

“So, you’re saying that Susie should just look on this as some kind of monthly inconvenience, like retaining water and cramps?”

Rafe chuckled. “I guess you could put it like that,” he said, and then his expression turned serious once again. “I don’t want to make light of this. It’s going to take some serious readjusting on Susie’s part, and on her family’s, as well. Whether she can handle it or not depends on how strong she is, both mentally and physically. And spiritually, I suppose.”

Rafe’s words troubled me. How strong could Susie be, mentally anyway, if she had already tried to take her own life?

I looked over at Rafe, admiring his profile, the spread of his shoulders, the way his hair framed his face. “Do you like being a Vampire?”

He glanced in my direction. “Most of the time. Why? Are you thinking of becoming one?”

“Of course not! Do you think you’d like being a Werewolf?”

“I don’t know.” He slowed to make the turn onto my street. “I never gave it a lot of thought.”

“Would you be mortal again, if you could?”

“I’m not sure I was ever mortal, at least not in the true sense of the word.”

“Would you like to be?”

“I don’t think so. It’s a moot point, anyway, since there’s no cure for what I am.”

“I don’t guess there’s a cure for being a Werewolf, either.”

“Not that I know of.” Pulling up in front of my house, he killed the engine.

“Do you want to come in?” I asked, smothering a yawn.

“I’d like to, but I think you’d better get some sleep.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

Leaning toward me, he cupped the back of my head in his hand and kissed me, slow, sweet, and deep. “Honey, I’m always right.”

After leaving Kathy’s house, Rafe made a brief stop at his place, and then returned to Brawley Woods. Following Mara’s standing orders, he went searching for the body of Mark Littlejohn. He found what was left of the man at the bottom of a deep crevasse, the grisly remains covered by rocks and debris.

Rafe had seen death in many forms, but never had he seen a body as badly mutilated as this one. Had Littlejohn been unmarried, Rafe would have left the body where it was, but Littlejohn had a wife and a little girl, not to mention parents, who would miss him. Learning of his death wouldn’t be easy on his family, but never knowing what had happened to him would be even more cruel. This way, they would have closure if nothing more.

He wrapped the man’s remains in the blanket he had brought from home, then carried the body back to his car and placed it in the trunk.

When he reached town, he pulled up in back of the Oak Hollow emergency room and left Littlejohn’s remains where they were sure to be found. He felt bad about leaving the body outside, but he wasn’t a fool. Any Vampire who waltzed into a hospital carrying a dead body was just asking for trouble. And whether Littlejohn’s body was found tonight or tomorrow morning wouldn’t matter. The man was beyond help, both mortal and Supernatural.

It was near 2:00
A.M
. when Rafe met up with Mara, Clive, Cagin, and his grandparents in one of the vacant rooms in the Hollow Tree Hotel. They didn’t bother to tell the clerk at the desk they were there. The fewer people who knew, the better.

Rafe was the last to arrive. He hugged his grandmother and Mara, shook hands with his grandfather, and acknowledged the presence of the two Were-creatures with a nod of his head. He didn’t like Clive, and he didn’t trust Cagin, but it was time to put his personal feelings aside, at least for the moment.

“You’ve all heard of the recent attacks,” Mara said without preamble. “Clive and I agree that a Werewolf is responsible. However, neither Clive nor Cagin recognized his scent.”

Roshan looked at Clive. “Are we dealing with the possibility of a rogue Werewolf?”

“I’m afraid so,” Clive replied. “I followed his scent for several miles, and then it disappeared.”

“How is that possible?” Brenna asked.

Clive shook his head. “I don’t know. I have several of my people out scouting the area.”

“Even if he transformed, wouldn’t he still smell the same?” Rafe asked.

“Yes,” Clive said. “That’s what troubles me.”

“What are you thinking?” Mara asked.

“I don’t know how he did it, but I’m thinking he’s either found a way to mask his scent or change it altogether.”

“Are we sure Littlejohn was killed by a Were-creature?” Roshan asked.

Mara turned to look at him, her green eyes glittering like polished jade. “Who else could it be?”

“One of us, perhaps?” Roshan said quietly.

“I’ve never known a Vampire to rip his victim to shreds,” Mara remarked. She looked at Rafe. “Was the body drained of blood?”

Rafe shook his head. “I don’t think so, but it was hard to tell from what was left.”

“Are we sure the woman and Littlejohn were both attacked by the same person?” Brenna asked. “Maybe there’s no connection. After all, it could just be coincidence that both of the humans were taken on the same night.”

“And in the same place?” Clive said. “I don’t think so.”

“Did you pick up any Vampire scent at either scene?” Mara asked.

“No.” Rafe glanced at Clive. “It smelled like dyed-in-the-wool Werewolf to me.”

“Maybe it was a blood sucker,” Cagin said, his yellow eyes narrowing as he looked at Rafe. “Maybe it was a Vamp smart enough to mask his own scent. Maybe he mutilated Littlejohn to make it look like one of us did it.”

“Maybe it wasn’t a Vampire or a Werewolf,” Roshan suggested.

Clive snorted. “Who else would have done it?”

“A mortal,” Roshan replied. “Maybe a group of mortals who don’t want the war to end.”

“I’m the one who found Littlejohn,” Rafe said flatly. “He smelled of Werewolf. As for the girl, I know for a fact that she was bitten by a Werewolf, since she transformed when the moon was full.”

“All right,” Mara said. “Until we learn otherwise, we’re going on the assumption that there’s a Werewolf in town who has deliberately disobeyed Clive’s command to cease any and all killing within the city. Our first order of business is to find him before he kills again, or before he bites anyone else. Clive, I want you to determine the whereabouts of all your people on the night the McGee girl and Littlejohn were taken. Once you’re convinced that none of your people is responsible, I want you to send them all away.

“Roshan, when the girl gets out of the hospital, I want you and Brenna to keep an eye on her. I want you to watch her house day and night, and follow her if she leaves.”

“Any particular reason why?” Roshan asked.

“I don’t want any more human casualties in Oak Hollow. There have been too many already. Rafe, I want you to get in touch with our people and tell them all to go home.”

“Hold on a minute,” Clive said. “Including you, that leaves four Vamps in town and only two of us.”

Mara lifted one brow. “And your point is?”

“I want an equal number of my people in town.”

“We’re not going to war,” Mara said impatiently, “we’re trying to stop this one from escalating.”

Clive shrugged. “If you don’t like it, then send two of your people away.”

“That’s how this whole war between us started,” Mara reminded him. “The thirst for power has brought us to the brink of war with the humans. At one time, I thought it was a battle we might win, but I see now that the old way was better for all of us.”

“You mean when we tucked our tails between our legs and hid out in the woods?” Clive asked disdainfully.

“The humans outnumber the Supernatural community ten thousand to one,” Mara said impatiently. “Even we can’t beat those odds.”

“Sure we can,” Clive retorted. “All we have to do to lower the odds is kill them, one at a time.”

“And how will you survive when the prey is gone?” Roshan asked.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Mara said, rising to her feet. “It’s time to end the feud between us now, once and for all, before the humans do it for us.”

“They’ll never defeat us,” Clive said with a sneer. “They’re too weak.”

“But they’re not stupid,” Mara said. “They have found cures for almost every disease known to mankind. They have conquered space and harvested the oceans. They have found a way to overcome any and all obstacles that they have encountered. Do you doubt that they can find a way to destroy your kind, as well?”

Apparently, Clive had no argument for that. Rising, he motioned to Cagin, and the two Weres left the room.

“He’s a fool,” Mara said. “Even now, I’ve heard rumors that human scientists are working on a drug that will cure lycanthropy. If they can come up with a viable concoction that won’t harm the humans, all they’ll have to do is add the drug to the water supply. The Werewolves will be cured whether they want to be or not. Perhaps the shape-shifters, as well.”

Rafe grunted softly. “And how will that affect us?”

Mara shook her head. “Since we are not truly alive, I have no idea.”

On that troubling note, Rafe bid Mara and his grandparents farewell, dissolved into mist, and floated out the window of the hotel.

Materializing inside his car, he pulled away from the curb. What Mara had said about ending the war before the humans ended it for them made good sense; he just hoped Clive and his Weres were smart enough to see that. The Vampires and the Werewolves had been waging open war among themselves for less than a year with heavy casualties on both sides. Rafe had no idea which side was winning. As far as he knew, no one had ever taken a census among the Werewolves. It was rumored that a Vampire hunter had a record of many of the known Vampires, but as far as Rafe knew, it was only a myth. Still, it was unusual for Supernatural creatures to disappear without their kind being aware of it.

As for some miracle drug that would cure the Werewolf community…Rafe shook his head, wondering again what kind of effect such a concoction would have on the Vampires and the shape-shifters, if any. That thought was followed by another, far more troubling one. Before the humans could drug the water supply, they would have to test it, not only on humans to make sure it was safe, but on Werewolves to make sure it worked. Would they think to test it on Vampires, as well? Maybe they were testing it already. Maybe that accounted for the missing Werewolves and Vampires.

He swore softly. There was nothing he could do about that. Putting the thought out of his mind, he let himself think about Kathy instead. He had never been one to believe in karma or fate, but in the deepest part of his being, he knew she had been born for him.

When he was with her, he could almost forget he was no longer human. Almost. He was amazed that she had so quickly accepted him for what he was. Her curiosity about his lifestyle and his paranormal powers amused him, her nearness aroused him, her blood was the sweetest he had ever tasted. A few sips had satisfied his craving in ways nothing else ever had.

And she loved him. That was the most amazing thing of all. But did she love him enough, was she brave enough, to spend the rest of her life with him?

Only time would tell, he mused ruefully.

And that was one thing he had plenty of.