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What Moira was yelling was, “Damn it, damn it-tell me what they are! Tom. Tom. A
And, as she sprinted to the pile of bodies that must have Tom on the bottom, A
Moira didn’t hear her, so A
And light exploded around them, warm and brilliant-and the vampires she and Tom hadn’t killed stopped fighting and ran. A
There were still four vampires, and that was probably three too many for her-and she couldn’t abandon her fallen comrades.
“Tom?”
“He’s alive,” she told Moira after a quick-but-thorough examination-done from five feet away. “But he’s going to need a moment before he’s ready to believe we aren’t the enemy.” She knelt beside the witch. “Are you all right?”
“Fine, damn it. Just fine.”
Moira was bleeding, A
Moira’s glasses had been knocked to the pavement and A
Without a word, A
A
“He’ll be all right,” A
“Can you shield us from sight? The vampires were doing it-or someone was”-it had felt like pack magic-“and now that they’ve run, it’s gone.” She didn’t know enough about pack magic to do it herself-and it usually required a pack anyway. Her pack, her new pack, was in Aspen Creek, two states away.
“I can manage for a little bit, but you’ll have to tell me if it’s working,” Moira told her, sounding more like the opinionated woman A
A
“That will work,” said Tom, though he didn’t make any effort to move. His voice was still growly, and his eyes gleamed yellow in the darkness. “A
Dominant wolves didn’t deal well with injuries like that. Ones that left them vulnerable. Angus’s pack would be set up like most of them. Angus clearly at the head, then two or three near the top, the rest ready to step in when necessary. And Tom had a broken arm, and she was pretty sure there was other damage not immediately obvious.
“You have a healer, right?” A
“Alan Choo,” said Tom. “But you call Charles and tell him to send-”
Deciding he wasn’t going to budge, she turned to Moira, who’d followed Tom’s voice until she could touch him. From the look on her face, it was a good thing for the vampires that they were either dead or had fled.
“Moira, tell me about Alan Choo. How dominant is he?”
“He’s not.” Tom sounded exasperated. “He can’t make you safe.”
A moment before, A
Power came to her call, and she said, “I will make myself safe.” When he didn’t have anything to say to that, she turned to the witch. “Moira do you have Alan Choo’s number?”
“Give me your cell phone, and I’ll call him myself,” Moira said in an odd voice.
A
What way? But telling him she didn’t have the slightest idea what he was talking about didn’t appeal to A
“He’ll have to wait-Moira, tell Mr. Choo to meet us at my hotel room.”
“And just how are going to get to the hotel without help?” Tom asked. He tried to sit up and failed. “Shit,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere for a while.”
A
At Moira’s astonished face, she rolled her eyes before she remembered the witch couldn’t see her. “Werewolf, here. I may not look like a brawny male, but I can carry Tom to the hotel just fine.”
Tom relaxed a little. “We don’t have any females,” he said. “You look pretty scrawny. I forgot.” She looked at him, and he gave her a faint smile. “Sorry.”
They weren’t too far from the hotel, but it seemed like a hundred miles. Tom was not light-werewolves are denser than humans, and she kept worrying about the pained sounds he made no matter how carefully she walked. Then he quit making sounds, and that was worse. And remembering to warn Moira about curbs and broken bits of sidewalk was harder than Tom had made it look.
Just when she was ready to call it over, she looked up-and there was the hotel.
Her cell rang. A couple of people coming out of the restaurant attached to the hotel patted pockets and looked bewildered, so A
A
She’d figured out a plan of action on the way back. She’d call Charles and explain the situation. If she understood about pack hierarchy and Tom’s danger as a wounded dominant, certainly Charles would, too.
“Door,” she whispered to Moira, and the witch trailed her fingers from their place on her shoulder to the glass door and held it open while A
“Windy tonight,” someone in the lobby commented as the door shut behind them.
By some luck there was no one in the hall by the elevators-or on their floor when it stopped. A
Getting Tom up again took time they didn’t have. He was semiconscious and defensive-and A
But he didn’t bite her. She got him into the room, on the bed. Moira shut the door, and they both heaved a sigh of relief. A
It was Charles.
“A
His voice was dark and urgent-and as soon as she heard it she felt him ru
“I’m fine,” she told him-though after she said it, she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. In the heat of battle nothing had hurt-but she’d caught a few good punches and given a few, too. She didn’t remember it, really. But her knuckles were sore, and so was her right shoulder. And her stomach wasn’t too happy with her either. Fortunately, she hadn’t taken stock until after she’d told him.