At the sound of Poppy's scream, Gage came tearing out of the Tranquility Room as a dark cloud. He saw Poppy and materialized into the shadow of a very handsome young man. He ignored me and focused on Poppy. Gage put his ghostly arms around her, or at least he tried to, but they went right through her.
"Shh! It's okay," he said. He stroked her hair. There was something tender about the way he tried and failed to touch her.
Finally, Poppy's sobs trailed off into little whimpers. I tried not to look at the blood, but its sharp metallic smell hung in the air.
"Did you see what happened here?" I asked Gage.
"The Were was here," he said. "With the girl who looks like you."
"Rose?" I tried to keep the panic out of my voice.
"Someone was waiting. Another Were. There was a struggle. It hurt. So much blood." Gage's voice sounded far-off, and I wondered if he was reliving his own death. He didn't seem to be focused on the here and now, but instead was clearly in a dark place. He screamed and faded in and out for a minute.
"Gage, what's wrong?" Poppy's voice seemed to snap him out of it. He shuddered and resumed his normal ghostly shape.
"It's nothing," he said. "Just a bad memory."
"What should we do?" Poppy said. "Call the hospital?"
"They wouldn't take Nicholas to the hospital," I said. "How would they explain his furry state?"
"Rose wouldn't just let him bleed to death," Poppy replied. "Where would she take him?"
None of us seemed to have the answer, but a moment later, the door opened and Rose entered the hallway. Her face was white and drawn and there was a smudge of what looked like blood across her cheek. She carried a bucket, rags, and cleaning supplies.
I was relieved to see her, but I couldn't help but wonder how hard it was to get Were blood out of carpeting.
We rushed up to her. "Are you all right?"
Poppy grabbed her and held her tight.
"I'm fine," she said. Then gently, "Poppy, honey, if you don't stop squeezing me, I won't be able to breathe."
Poppy loosened her grasp and stepped back to stare at Rose. "What happened?" She demanded.
Rose dropped to her knees and dabbed at the blood. She avoided looking at any of us, especially me. "I want to get this stain out before it sets."
"Is Nicholas okay? Where is he?" Poppy flooded her with questions, but I didn't say anything. I watched Rose closely, though. Something was wrong. She was hiding something.
"He's fine," she said. "Just a couple of stitches. I took him to a doctor in town, a Were. She stitched him up, and Nicholas is home in bed, resting."
"How did he get hurt?"
"It was nothing. Just an accident." That didn't sound like my sister, brushing off her boyfriend's injury. There was definitely something she wasn't telling us.
For the first time, I deliberately tried to read Rose's mind. I got a quick glimpse of Nicholas being attacked by a younger, lanky Were before Rose slammed down her defenses and kicked me out.
She glared at me and sent me a message. Do that again and you will regret it. I could tell she meant it.
Sorry, I sent back. I wouldn't do it again, of course, but I was fascinated by what I'd learned.
There was a teenaged Were in Nightshade? I had seen a few Weres when Ryan and I were spying on the Nightshade City Council one time, but they had all been older looking. Who was the other Were? And why had he and Nicholas been fighting?
These were the questions running through my mind as I spent the rest of the morning helping my sisters scrub the blood out of the carpet at Mort's.