The claw marks were deep, and I wasn’t sure Wakumi could make it if I went back inside to help the man in black. I also wasn’t sure the man could handle that beast, and I didn’t want it loose in the neighborhood, but I had to set priorities. I carried Wakumi to my truck and put her in the backseat. Cho watched with sad eyes, but didn’t cry or say anything. She simply gazed at her mother and my impression was that she’d seen plenty of bad things in her short life.
“You all right, Cho?” I asked.
She shrugged.
That shrug spoke volumes, and made my decision easy. I climbed into my truck and raced toward the closest hospital: Porter over on Downing Street. We were close enough that it would be faster for me to drive them than to call for an ambulance, which would only serve to keep them in danger should that wolf man get out here. My job was to rescue the mother and daughter. Their father, some man in black, and a beast were not part of the job description.
Safety first.
“She’s going to be all right,” I said to Cho. As I sped down the side street, I pulled my phone and dialed nine-one-one. I gave the dispatcher the address and said a fight was in progress then hung up.
Cho looked at her mother, who bled on my backseat. Then she looked at me. “Did Daddy bite her?”
“What kind of question is that? Your father fought off the beast while I got your mother out of there.”
She looked at me like I was stupid.
“What’s that look for?” I asked and whipped around cars. Tires screeched when I cut off an SUV. The driver honked at me and I glanced in the rearview to see a soccer mom flipping me the bird. Charming.
“Daddy couldn’t fight as a man at this hour.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s a werewolf,” Cho said.
I wasn’t sure I’d heard her correctly.
“Say what?”
“You saw him, so you know it’s true.”
“All I know right now is we need to get your mother to the hospital.”
Cho shrugged. It was something she did quite well. Then she gazed out the window, staring at the other cars filled with people living ordinary lives. We had to stop at a red light because I couldn’t get around the car in front of us, and in the next lane, a little girl in a green station wagon looked over at Cho and waved.
Cho lifted a hand to wave back.
Two little girls waving to each other, one moving on to play with dolls in her mundane life, and one with her mother bleeding out in the backseat.
The light changed, and once traffic moved, I managed to dart around a few cars to get to our turn lane.
“We’re coming up on the hospital. I want you to stay in the car.”
“No,” Cho said. “Don’t leave me here.”
“Your mother needs medical attention, and I can’t keep tabs on you while I get her checked in.”
“I want to stay with Mommy.”
“They won’t let you.”
“Then I want to stay with you.”
I pulled into the hospital and parked at the front entrance. “Fine, stick close to me then,” I said.
As I hopped out of the truck, a man at the valet parking shook his head and started toward us. “You can’t park there, ma’am,” he said.
But as he approached, I pulled Wakumi from the back and he must have seen the blood because he jumped in to help.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Animal attack,” I said.
He keyed his radio. “Trauma patient at main entrance. Major blood loss.”
He rushed inside, and before I could carry Wakumi to the entrance, the valet was back with a wheelchair.
“I didn’t see a gurney,” he said.
Several men ran toward us as we wheeled Wakumi into the lobby. Cho stayed right behind me, quiet.
“What happened?” a doctor asked.
“She was mauled by a dog,” I said.
He examined her wounds. “Must have been one big-ass dog,” he said.
He barked orders to the security men, and nurses, and they took Wakumi down the hall. A nurse remained with us. She was a middle-aged stocky woman with graying hair.
“They’ll take care of her,” the nurse said, her voice calm. “Can I get some information from you?”
“Before you do,” the valet said, “I need to move your truck.”
I tossed him the keys and handed him some cash. “Thanks for your help.”
“Any time, ma’am.”
The nurse asked a bunch of questions as she led us to a waiting room. I answered what I could, and Cho helped with a few. I was glad Cho didn’t mention werewolves to the nurse. Once enough paperwork was filled out, the nurse left us.
“I’ll be back with an update on Mrs. Himura’s condition,” she said. “For future reference, call an ambulance. Paramedics could have been working on her as they drove to the emergency room.”
I nodded and didn’t tell her that the larger concern was the beast coming out of the house to attack people. Then again, I’d left before the police could get there, and people were still in danger, but there’s only so much one person can do. Besides, if the neighbors were stupid enough to challenge a werewolf, that was their problem.
Cho sat in an orange chair, kicking her legs back and forth, as her feet didn’t reach the tiled floor. An old man sat alone against the far wall quietly wringing his hands. A woman sat with silent stoicism looking from the clock to the door every five seconds, while her daughter texted on a cellphone. Another woman sat with three children, the oldest was maybe ten and the youngest was a toddler who waddled around carrying a plush dinosaur, one of the long-necked herbivores like a Brachiosaurus. The woman had a blank expression as she stared toward the entrance, casting the occasional glance at her children.
“Is Mommy going to die?” Cho asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “The doctors will do the best they can.”
“I don’t want my mommy to die.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I said nothing.
“I need to make a phone call,” I said, and took out my phone.
Cho shrugged.
I started to get up, but Cho grabbed my arm. “Please don’t leave me here.” She looked around at the families in the room. “I don’t know these people.”
Her words were a punch in the gut. When I was eight, I’d said much the same thing when my parents dropped me off at Dragon Gate Industries after selling me to the wizards there. My parents left me and I never saw them again.
I settled back in my chair and patted her hand. “Okay,” I said.
She looked up at me and the relief in her eyes was palpable.
I called Jennifer and when she answered, I said, “Wakumi is at Porter Hospital. I’m there with her daughter now.”
“Are they okay?”
“Cho is fine. Wakumi is in surgery.”
“What happened?”
“I didn’t get there in time,” I said.
“I’m on my way.”
My next call was to my friend Amanda West. Amanda is a witch. She answered on the third ring.
“Kelly!” she said, all excited. “I was just going to call you. A friend scored tickets to see Hamilton on Broadway next week. If you’re free, he has a friend with an extra ticket. Ted will pay for plane tickets and everything.”
“I can’t go to New York.”
“Not today. Next week. We can spend a few days in the Big Apple, see the musical, do some shopping. We can even go to MastersmithS so you can buy some new custom blades.”
“We’ll see,” I said, though she sure knew how to sell me on it; I really wanted to go to MastersmithS. Amanda was obsessed with the Hamilton musical. She’d been in New York when the play debuted, and when the CD went live, she bought it and had been playing it over and over.
“We have to go, Kelly.”
“We’ll talk about it later. Can you come to Porter Hospital?”
“Is someone hurt?”
“No one you know, but I want to talk to you.”
“I can be there in an hour. I have tuna casserole in the oven, and I’m starving.”
“An hour is fine. We’re in the waiting room just down the hall from the main lobby.”
“Got it.”
After I disconnected the call, I put a hand on Cho’s thigh. “How are you holding up?”
“You’re pretty,” Cho said.
“Thank you.”
“If I grow up, I want to look like you.”
“If?”
Cho gave me one of her shrugs that said so much.
Eight years old, and unsure she’d see nine.
I remembered those days.
And I didn’t like that memory.