Chapter Twenty

So that was how I found myself in the backseat of Tim’s car, listening to two Weres argue. We parked on the street two doors down from the house holding Kayleigh. With our car wreathed in darkness, the two Werewolves discussed, in very heated voices, whether or not one of them should get out of the car and snoop around the property. Actually, even though I’d pointed out either one of them would be easily sniffed out by the enemy, they weren’t so much arguing about the “whether or not” of the plan, they argued over “who.” Eliza thought she, as full moon, should venture near the house. She claimed she was more likely to keep full darkness about her and she could call the moon in other ways—I assumed by creating more crazies—if threatened by discovery. Tim argued he was the official investigator, highly trained for these types of dangerous situations, and, in fact, in charge of our group. Eliza didn’t seem cowed by any of that, either because she was indeed the stronger Were or because Tim was so mild-mannered it was hard to take him seriously sometimes. I stayed quiet for about five minutes of their spat, then abruptly opened the car door.

“If you two can’t decide, I’ll go.” I had no patience for them. We needed to rescue Kayleigh and Carson, and we needed to do it right then. Since Kayleigh was closer, we’d free her first so we could focus on Carson. Dammit. The plan was obvious. Why were they delaying?

“Julie, get back in the car,” Eliza snapped.

“Wait.” Tim said, eyes narrowed in thought. “No one would expect a human to walk into their safe hold. Maybe, there’s a way this works.”

“Are you crazy? What can Julie do?” Eliza demanded.

“Thanks for the support.”

Tim said, “We know Kayleigh is subjected to medical procedures, multiple bone marrow withdrawals. It would make sense for a medical professional to check on her, make sure her accelerated healing keeps up with the loss of bone marrow.” He looked at us. “Right?”

“Rrrright.” I thought I knew where he was going.

“What if you pose as a nurse, Julie, and enter the house to check on Kayleigh? A direct entry, knock on the door and everything.”

“How am I going to pose as a nurse?”

Tim studied me. “I think what you’re wearing works—it wouldn’t make sense for you to arrive in scrubs since this is covert. And I have a black bag in the trunk you could carry. It’s for my extra clothes and things, but it looks a medical bag. At a quick glance and if you hold yourself properly….”

Uh-huh. So jeans, my yellow t-shirt, and a black overnight bag would make me look like a nurse?

“Actually,” Eliza said, “I don’t think that’s a bad idea. Here.” She plucked Tim’s cell phone charger from the car floor. “Drape this around your neck and it will look like a stethoscope. Just make sure to keep the ends tucked into your jacket.”

Right. Better and better.

“What if they won’t let me in? What if they won’t leave me alone with Kayleigh? What if…” I ran out of words. Too many what-ifs circled in my mind. Besides, I’m the one who first decided I should check out the house.

“It’s up to you, Julie,” Eliza said in her most serious voice. “If you think you can pull this off, it’s probably our best way to get someone inside the house covertly. If you don’t want to do it, then I—or Tim—will check the perimeter of the house and once we know what we face, we’ll decide if we should make a frontal assault.”

The idea of a frontal assault sounded horrible. I considered, then slowly nodded.

“I can do this.” I lifted my chin and met Eliza’s questioning gaze.

“Good girl,” she said and I snorted. “We’ll be right here, wreathed in darkness. If you need me, just yell. Better yet, try to get near a window or something and then yell, so I can find your precise location.”

This plan contained so many flaws I decided the best thing was not to think about it any further. Hell, at least while I risked my silly life, I would have something else to think about besides Carson.

Carson.

Besides, if something happened to Carson, I wouldn’t care what happened to me anyway.

****

Less than five minutes later, I knocked on the front door of 1107 Deerhollow Road, with a cell phone charger draped around my neck and a small black bag in my hand. I sucked in my stomach, squared my shoulders, and assumed a slightly-bored expression.

“Yes?” The door opened a crack and a man’s voice greeted me.

“I’m the nurse, here to see the patient,” I said.

A beat passed before the voice spoke again. “Who sent you?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Are we in the habit of using names now, in open air, right here on the doorstep?”

When an immediate answer didn’t come, I sighed, made a show of taking out my cell phone and snapped, “Fine. If you choose not to let me in, it’s on your head if she’s not ready for tomorrow’s procedure. What’s your name? So I can report you.”

The chain on the door slid back slowly and the door opened slightly farther. The man was big. I don’t mean big as in tall; big as in brick-wall, his width seemingly equal to his six-foot height. His shoulders were barely contained by a light-weight jacket which also strained over his biceps. His jaw was broad, his eyes small and gray, and I wanted to run away from him screaming.

Instead, I thought, Carson, set one foot forward, and demanded, “Well?”

“How come I haven’t seen you before?”

“Obviously,” I looked him straight in the face, “because I haven’t been here before. Did you think you knew everyone involved in this entire…operation? That all personnel were at all times involved in this particular venture? Or have you considered the possibility there are those of us involved in other ways and means?”

“Right,” said Steroid-Man. “Well, I guess the others are busy tonight.”

Please, let the others be busy tonight.

“They fill you in?”

“I’ve been briefed, yes,” I said, coldly.

“Right. She’s up the stairs on the left.”

With those words and a pointed finger, he stepped aside.

I took three steps inside the door and then turned back to him. “I assume she’s fully restrained and incapacitated?” My tone indicated I had a hard time assuming competency of him or anyone else involved.

“Of course. You want a guard?”

“That will not be necessary. If you have done your job correctly, that is.”

I made it in the house.

****

My heart pounded loudly, seeming to say, “You’re a stupid idiot, a stupid idiot” as I walked through a very ordinary living room in the direction Steroid-Man pointed. Sure enough, I came upon a stairway leading to the second floor. I tried to contain my nerves well enough to take note of everything: dining area and kitchen straight ahead, stairway on the right, hallway to the left that looked to contain a door to the garage and probably a bathroom, another door off that hallway…an office? In the kitchen, three men sat around a table that had seen better days. They looked like thugs. Thugs playing poker who seemed to think their fellow at the door must have cleared me adequately. One of them—sandy hair, squinting eyes, cigarette in his mouth—leered at me slightly. Ewwww. I tossed my curls and turned my back on him, walking up the staircase. I felt partial relief when I rounded the corner of the stairs because I didn’t have to worry they stared at my back. Although I found it disconcerting to think I didn’t know what they were doing below. What if they called someone to check on this so-called nurse?

Shut up, heart. I could barely think over its thumping.

The upstairs hall saw a continuation of the ugly light blue carpet from below. Who the hell carpets their house entirely in light blue? Resale value, people. Five doors led off the hallway, three of which stood open. Biting my lip, I tiptoed down the hall to peek into each room: two bedrooms and a bathroom, none of which were occupied, all beyond filthy. Like, beer bottles, cigarette butts, dirty clothes filthy. And I won’t describe the bathroom. Suffice it to say, I felt a fresh surge of sympathy for Kayleigh. Of the closed doors, only one was on the left side, Kayleigh’s location. But…

I walked over to the other door, the closed door on the right. Standing right outside it, I held my breath and leaned my ear against the door. Nothing. I reached a somewhat shaky hand and tried the doorknob. Finding that it turned freely, I pushed ever-so-gently on the door.

“Hey!”

I swiveled around, hand flying to my chest.

“I said the left door. I forgot to give you the key. Here.”

How the hell had Steroid-Man climbed the stairs so quietly?

“Don’t go in there, he’s in there.”

“Oh.” I reached out and took the key from him. “Thanks. Sorry about that, I always confuse my right and left—kind of dangerous, being a nurse and all, always worrying I’ll get something wrong during surgery.” I laughed nervously.

Shut up, Julie.

“Yeah.” Steroid-Man looked like he also thought I should shut up. “Hey, what did you say your name was, again? I gotta log it.”

“Jane Halloway,” I said in a steady voice. “Thank you for the key and for the warning. I wouldn’t want to wake him up.” I used the same emphasis the guard had. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get to work.” I made a little shooing movement with my hands and turned my back on Steroid-Man to walk confidently across the hall to the other closed door.

Yes, the only door with a lock on the knob. Very observant, spy Julie Hall should have noticed that right away. Actually…I nearly missed the lock with the key as I realized in retrospect one of the doors downstairs also had a lock on the outside. Curious.

My shaking fingers inserted the key and I risked a look over my shoulder to make sure Steroid-Man had left. With a small sigh of relief, I turned the key and twisted the handle.

Before I’d even opened the door half an inch, an immensely loud and angry growl greeted me from inside the room. I jumped again and quickly pushed the door all the way open. Sidling inside, I closed it firmly behind me and scolded, “Shhhh! Quiet down, don’t wake him up, whoever he is.”

The growling subsided, but perhaps out of puzzlement as much as anything else. My own mouth dropped open from shock as I saw Kayleigh.

First of all, she was gorgeous. Now, I often described Sheila as gorgeous and she is—eye-catching, poised, dramatic, full of charisma. Eliza had her own quiet beauty and grace. Even though I hated my freckles, I knew I wasn’t too awful to look at. But Kayleigh Anderson? She looked like a model, a flippin’ supermodel. Even wounded, growling deep in her throat, appearing feral with a bared-teeth grimace, and covered in a hospital gown. Actually, that might have been why she looked like a supermodel, given the weird aesthetic of fashion photography. Kayleigh Anderson: thin, toned, breasts I feared might not even be implants, wavy blonde hair that fell nearly to her waist, huge blue eyes murderous at the moment, perfect pouty rosebud lips, honey-colored tan. Oh yes, the exact California bikini beauty my mind associated with a name like Kayleigh. Plus she’d known my Mac. The inevitable questions rose to my mind. How well had they known each other? I ruthlessly stamped down the jealous beastie in my chest. Of all times. Focus, Julie.

Kayleigh lay on a mattress on the floor. In contrast to the rest of the house, this room was actually clean, mostly because of its Spartan nature. One white sheet covered the mattress and another bunched around Kayleigh’s feet. A hospital gown that incongruously sported a pattern of pastel polka dots covered her, barely. Her hands and feet were bound with duct tape threaded with silver chains. I saw the chains had left burn marks in several places—I’d have to find out more about inimical silver was to a Werewolf, in order to make sure Carson wasn’t over-exposed.

Carson.

I wrenched my mind back to the task at hand, needing all my attention on the present moment.

Kayleigh’s beautiful hair hung in lank tangles and her cheek marred by a large scratch, probably a gash at one point but now healing. Bruises covered her: cheekbone, both shins, collarbone. One of her wrists was completely yellow-green, still decorated with faint purple splotches. As Sheila had described, I saw bandages beneath her gown, jutting off her hip bones, her shoulder blades, her breastbone. The IV in her left arm attached to a bag dripped down from one of those metal IV-bag hangers just like in a hospital.

She lay there, growling at the back of her throat, her eyes fixed on me and her hands and feet scrabbling futilely. I double checked the door behind me, making sure it closed tightly, and crossed to her.

Staying carefully out of reach, I set the black bag on the ground and hissed, “Kayleigh. Calm down, I’m with Sheila, the Witch from your dream, we’re here to rescue you.”

“Then get me the hell out of here,” she said in a sweet, breathy voice.

I stifled a hysterical laugh.

“We will, we will get you out of here.”

We hadn’t made enough plans; I didn’t know what to do. My attention had been so focused on getting into the house, on fooling the guards, on finding out how many people were there. Why hadn’t we figured out what to do if I’d actually reached Kayleigh, if I had a moment alone with her?

Making a split second decision, I unzipped Tim’s black bag and riffled through the items he’d given me. Getting tangled in the stupid cell phone charger aka stethoscope, I ripped it off my neck and threw it on the ground. Finally, I found the Swiss army knife. Trying to hurry, I sawed through the tape at Kayleigh’s wrists and unthreaded the silver chain, which I shoved in my pocket. When I finished, I handed her the knife and went to the window to plan our escape.

I didn’t realize the window was barred until then. What kind of house had a barred window? In what type of neighborhood did people not notice a bedroom with a barred window? I mean, yes, the window faced the backyard, peeking through other yards until the faint flash of the Fish Fry was just visible. And, yes, the bars were painted white. But, seriously. Bars on the window?

“Fuck!”

Kayleigh finished shaking and rubbing her wrists and now hacked at the duct tape wrapping her ankles. I noticed she took extra care not to touch the silver chain and I hurried over to help her again. I unwrapped the chain and fiddled with it in my hand as she ripped through the rest of the tape. She chafed her ankles, bending and flexing her feet, working the blood back through. I noticed she’d ripped quite a bit of skin off her ankles, but she barely seemed to notice.

Kayleigh reached up and pulled out her earrings. Oh. Massive silver earrings. Then, she gritted her teeth, grabbed the IV line entering her arm, and gave a hard tug. The IV needle came out, along with a substantial chunk of the flesh from her arm. A gobbet of flesh. Blood poured out of her left arm, but with a grim face, she merely used her right hand to hold it, tight. I imagined edgy fashion magazines lined up to capture the pictures of the gruesome scene.

“Holy crap,” I said.

“No big deal,” she said in her bubble-gum voice. “I healed around the needle. We do that. The bleeding will stop in a second as it knits back together. Especially now that I don’t have silver all over me.”

“Hey,” I said, as a thought occurred to me, “the guard said I should be careful not to wake him, somebody across the hall.”

“Yes, probably the Were, that Ken guy.” Kayleigh showed her teeth in something resembling a smile. “Don’t worry, I can take him.”

From the looks of her, she’d relish every minute of it, too.

“Well, there are at least four heavily armed thugs out there, too, so let’s try to get out of here without fighting the big bad Were?”

“Not so big, not so bad. Truly.”

“Uh, okay. I know you heal from bullet wounds pretty well, but me? I’d rather get the hell out of here.”

Kayleigh’s eyes widened in surprise, as if she’d forgot the weaknesses of mere humans.

“By the way, I’m Julie. Julie Hall.” It seemed ridiculous to hold out my hand for a shake, but I did it anyway.

“Mac’s girlfriend?” Kayleigh’s voice jumped another octave in surprise.

“Yes! You, you know about me?”

“Mac mentioned you last time we worked together, yeah.” She assessed me with a newly critical eye. “He didn’t tell me you were a superspy, though. I didn’t even know you were in this line of work.”

“I’m not. Or at least, I wasn’t until they killed him.”

“I see. Out for revenge? They’ll get theirs, Julie, never fear. If not this minute, then soon. Soon.” She gave a truly wicked grin I couldn’t help but return.

The smile froze on her face a second later, as she stiffened; her whole body at attention. “Someone’s here.”

“What?” I whispered.

“Someone just knocked at the front door.” Kayleigh cocked her head, looking for all the world like some sort of golden retriever.