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Authors: Lara Whitmore

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Occult, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Paranormal & Urban

Fever (7 page)

BOOK: Fever
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Chapter Nine

 

Anna removed her helmet as she dismounted her motorcycle. She was careful to park three blocks from the hospital to avoid immediate detection. It wasn’t exactly an alley – there were no alleys in a town this small – but the space between an empty dumpster and the fire station would do.

Before she set out on foot, she opened the
motorcycle’s top-box and pulled out a few… specialty items. Another pistol in a thigh holster. Silver throwing stars. And a single grenade, which she’d never had occasion to use, but today was as good as any other day.

Sometimes,
she really loved this job.

Anna lightly kissed her fingertips before pressing them to the
gas tank. It was something she did whenever she left her motorcycle, lest she never return. Logan never understood it.

He never understood a lot of things.

Hand resting on the gun at her hip, Anna began closing in on the hospital. She darted between cars, staying out of sight as much as possible. It wasn’t easy in broad daylight.

Logan’s words echoed in her
memory.
This town is full of werewolves.

She’d heard of
sanctuaries before, but she’d never had the desire to invade one. Her mentor frequently accused her of being reckless, and maybe he was right, but she wasn’t stupid. Taking out a single werewolf and taking out a pack or more were two different things.

On the plus side – she
whipped out her gun – there was no need for the cloak and dagger routine. And since there was a full moon last night, most of the townsfolk should be sleeping in their homes like good little werewolves.

If they weren’t, well…

She swallowed. Game over.

There was a back
door to the hospital that appeared rather harmless. It might have been a service entrance. She looked up at the parking lot cameras as she approached it, cursing Logan for getting her into this mess. It would be stealthier to stand there with a bullhorn and demand the antidote.

But as she approached the door and
picked the lock, no cars moved in. No one grabbed her from behind. When she heard the click of the lock submitting, Anna carefully opened the door. Her eyes scanned the hallway for movement.

Nothing.

Instead of putting her at ease, the lack of security worried her. It was too quiet. She’d been prepared to fight her way in and out, guns blazing. Where was everyone? Surely they couldn’t all be sleeping.

Lab
, she reminded herself.
Find the lab.

The basement might also contain vials of antidote
, but it was more likely for the lab to contain valuable research as well. The antidote was her primary concern, but genetic profiles, chemical compositions, and test results were as good as gold. Any of it would help the Society create weapons and bullets made from antidote-resistant silver.

Moving
down the hall, Anna found herself hoping for a wall map. Perhaps with a “You Are Here” marker. But what could she expect? She’d no more find a map than arrows painted on the floor.

The werewolf
at the motel said the lab was on the first floor. It wouldn’t be in receiving or in the surrounding patient rooms, which meant… She took a left at the end of the hall.

The odor
of antiseptic and bleach was overpowering. It grew stronger as she ventured farther down the corridor, burning in her nose.

She fe
ll back into the closest room when a flash of blue scrubs caught her eye. Through the blinds, she watched a nurse cross the far end of the corridor.

It wasn’t exactly the lead of all leads, but it was better than nothing.

Anna allowed the woman take a right before following her, always one turn behind. Trailing after a werewolf without being detected was damn near impossible. As if their inhuman hearing and sense of smell weren’t enough, their natural instincts were far more sensitive than those of any human.

She relied on her
prowler training to move as silently as possible, steadying her breaths.

Like a ninja,
she heard Logan’s teasing voice in her head.

“Were we able to track
the signal?” a man distantly asked.

Anna held her breath, freezing in place
. There wasn’t a room nearby. She was left standing out in the open. If someone turned the corner, they would see her.

“The
prowler never radioed the Society a second time,” a woman answered. “The communications center doesn’t know if it’s because he’s ignorant of the situation or unable to call for help.”

“We’ll need more information on the matter before tonight.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Papers shifted
and a file drawer opened. They must be standing at a nurse’s station.

“What of the antidot
e?” the woman asked. “Did we receive confirmation?”

“It’s being moved to the new loca
tion, yes. A truck picked it up an hour ago.”

“I assume you ret
ained enough to keep your pet alive?”

There was a warning growl. Any h
ope that these two weren’t werewolves disappeared instantly.

“Vincent isn’t a
pet
.” The doctor hissed. “He’s part of our family, whether he wants to be or not.” Pause. “To answer your question, yes, I managed to procure a dose or two. Will I disclose the location to you? No. Your manner toward him is far too cold.”

She ignored his observation. “I assume you’ll want him to move with us.”

“Of course. That affair is already being resolved.”

The silence
that followed was only broken by the occasional shifting of files. Anna backed away, intending to return to the motel and inform Logan of this
move
. If the pack planned to invade another town, they might be forced to radio the Society, risks be damned. Lives would be at stake either way.

“Wel
l then, I’ve given the lab files an acid bath. If that’s all, I think I’ll go home and rest up for tonight’s City Hall meeting,” the woman said. “Our last, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“Usual time?”

“Eleven, sharp. We should be on the move by midnight.”

“Thank goodness. I never could stand the ambiance around here…”

Anna didn’
t wait for the woman to finish. She continued backing away until she rounded the corner, using their conversation to cover her footsteps. Then she made haste through the nearest exit door. Though she wanted to run like hell, she forced herself to remain cautious as she returned to her motorcycle.

A meeting. In
City Hall, tonight. It would be the perfect opportunity to kick some werewolf ass. Their only opportunity, if she overheard correctly. They might never have another chance to gain the upper hand on an entire sanctuary.

Any pity she felt
for the werewolf at the motel was overshadowed by a rush of excitement. Logan wouldn’t be happy to learn the antidote was mostly
gone, but he would be thrilled to learn about the meeting. It was their chance to prove their worth to the Society.

Rounding the dumpster, she was pleased to find her motorcycle right where she left it.

“Hey, honey,” she whispered affectionately.

A
ccording to her watch, it was almost noon. They had less than eleven hours to come up with a plan.

Anna mo
unted her motorcycle and let her head fall back. No pressure or anything. Although… Her eyes shifted to the fire station beside her.

That could work.

The fire station was bound to contain heavy duty equipment. Chains, locks, controlled accelerant.

Some people might think it was frightening how Anna began to tingle in certai
n places, but she couldn’t help it. Killing werewolves was
hot
. And it was about to get even hotter.

There were
a few errands she needed to run before showtime. Rule number one was to conduct reconnaissance whenever possible, which meant her first stop would be City Hall. She needed to learn the building layout and find points of escape to seal them. Most importantly, she had to do it now,
so her scent faded before nightfall.

It
briefly crossed her mind that someone might be watching the building, or even inside… but immediately before a big move, everyone was more likely asleep. With a potential kill this big, she didn’t have the luxury of playing it safe.

An
na cracked a smile as she donned her helmet. Her only obstacle now was finding City Hall. In a town as small as Pinechester, it should be easier than finding the nearest gas station. She’d begin her search with main street. Park a block away. Get in and get out before darkness fell.

Then
before she returned to the motel, she’d break into the fire station and scrounge what goodies they’d need. It might take hours to organize what they’d need, but it would be worth it.

Heavy metal blared in her helmet speakers as she pulled away from the dumpster. Tonight, eve
ry member of the pack would burn.

Chapter Ten

 

Logan paced at the foot of Vincent’s bed. He struggled to remain calm and breathe, but whenever he looked at the time or at Vincent, he began to worry all over again. Anna should have been back by now. And while Vincent’s fever had broken, he hadn’t opened his eyes for hours.

F
ibers of the horrid orange-brown carpet gathered around his shoes as he paced. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Mental i
mages of Anna’s potentially violent demise wouldn’t leave him be. They flashed before his eyes, over and over. If there was a way for her to die, he’d imagined it. The knot in his stomach tightened with each passing minute. His hands were restless, fingers interlacing behind his head and then dropping to his sides. He crossed his arms, only to uncross them a moment later. He needed a cigarette.

Between imagining Anna’s death and glancing at Vincent’s sti
ll form, he vowed never to play the role of helpless caretaker again. He belonged in the middle of the action. On the front lines.

Vincent groaned, turning his head on the pillow.

“You’re awake.” Logan moved to sit on the bed. He rested a hand on Vincent’s arm. “It’s okay. You’re through the worst of it.”

“What happened?” The words ran together
as Vincent fought to open his eyes. “Feels like I was hit by a train.”

“Not a train,” he
assured him. “Just one nasty werewolf. I’m sure it didn’t help that you never received the last dose of silver antidote. On that note, you should have told me you were a freaking werewolf. Anna would have been more than happy to blow your head off if I hadn’t been around to stop her.”


I know. I meant to tell you. I just didn’t want it to be my opening line, considering your occupation.”

Logan thought for a minute.
“All that stuff you told me about being a prowler…”

“It was true.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I didn’t want to beat your ass for lying to me, considering your condition.”

Vincent didn’t answer.
He was silent for so long that Logan wondered if he’d fallen back asleep.

“You still awake?” he
asked, voice soft.

“I
… feel better,” Vincent murmured, eyes flying open. His expression was a mixture of confusion and amazement. “Logan, I feel better.”

“That’s because I’m
secretly an awesome nurse,” he cracked. “Brought your fever down and everything. Took a strong stomach, but…”

That
earned him a huff. “You don’t get it, kid. The fever is a result of silver poisoning. Without the antidote, it should have risen until I went mad with delirium. Until I died.”

Logan shifted
uncomfortably as his words sank in. “So, you’re saying…”

“I survived silver. It took me out
of the game for a while, sure, but it didn’t kill me. Do you think–” Vincent looked hopeful. “Do you think I’m building up an immunity against it?”

Logan wanted to say that it wasn’t possible. That
silver was a weakness of werewolves, and that’s all there was to it. But while his grades in school had been shameful, he hadn’t missed the class on evolution. If Vincent was truly developing a tolerance to silver, it could mean the Society had a major problem on their hands. Other werewolves might be developing the same immunity.

“Let’s not get ahead of ou
rselves,” he answered. The beginnings of a headache throbbed behind his eyes. Massaging his temples, he went on, “Even if you are developing a tolerance, we won’t be testing that theory anytime soon. I’d have no idea how to test it safely anyway. I’m not a doctor, I can’t–”

An idea that was both brilliant an
d foolhardy occurred to him. “What about that doctor at the hospital? Dr. Allen?”

Vincent visibly paled
. “What about him?”

“He would know h
ow to test your potential immunity. We could force him to test it at the hospital, maybe even render you more immune, and kill him afterwards so he doesn’t pass the knowledge on to other werewolves–”

“Sounds like you’re the one getting ahead of yourself,” Vincent broke in. “First of all, there’s no way I’m going near that hospital or Doc again. Second of all, there’s nothing to stop him from killing me during testing
, since it will in fact be testing. Finally, unless you have a brilliant plan to hold him hostage in a public hospital without your scent drawing werewolves for hours, it would be a suicide mission for you. Forget it.”

“All rig
ht, all right,” Logan muttered, gazing at the floor. If he hadn’t been such a sleep-deprived, emotional wreck, the blood might have rushed to his ears in embarrassment. It was a stupid idea.

When he
looked up, Vincent had pushed the blankets back. He began to peel away the bandage on his chest.

“Hey,” Logan snapped, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “I worked hard to
stitch those up. You’re going to expose them to infection.”

Though Vincent didn’t smile, there was a humorous glint in his eye that made Logan feel like he was missing something. He released his wrist.

When the bandage fell away, he was stunned. The claw marks had healed. Raw, angry scars were in their place. The sutures had been pushed from the skin and now lay in a loose mess. Vincent brushed them off with a wince.

“D
on’t be too impressed,” he said. Logan realized his jaw was slack, and closed it with a snap. “If it weren’t for the silver, I would have healed hours ago. Even now, I don’t feel as strong as I usually do. I’m weak. Tired.”

“But you’ll live.”

A nod. “I’ll live.”

Logan rose to his feet and crossed the room. Somewhere between hour four and five of pacing, he’d
unpacked his spare jacket and hung it by the door. Now, he pulled it on. With his car beat to hell, he’d need it if he was going to find Anna.

Voice laced with
the beginnings of sleep, Vincent asked, “Where are you going?”

“Anna should have been back hours ago. Since you’re out of the woods
–” He broke into a smile. “I’m going to find her while you rest up.”


I’ll go with you.” Vincent propped himself up onto his elbows. Before he could sit up, however, Logan strode to his side and pushed him back down. It spoke to how weak he was that he offered little resistance. But his eyes shifted to gold in defiance.

“I know y
ou want back in the action,” he tried to reason with him. “And I understand why. But you’re in no condition to go anywhere, and I can’t just sit here. Anna could be running out of time.”

Vincent’s eyes
softened just a bit.

“You’re willing to die for her?”

Logan looked away. He turned to the opposite bed and began gathering weapons, pointedly ignoring the question. It didn’t matter if he was willing to die for her or not. He wasn’t going to die. Not tonight. He was going to find her and bring her back.

For a moment, he wondered if she even remained in
Pinechester, or if she’d simply taken off again, left him. But he dismissed the notion as quickly as it occurred to him. Anna never left her gear behind. The duffel bag he riffled through contained too many of her favorite guns. Even he couldn’t help but admire them fondly before tucking a pistol into the waistband of his jeans.

The corner of a photo protruded from a case of throwing stars. As he lifted the lid, Logan recognized it
immediately. It was taken not too long after they’d met. Back when their pasts hadn’t mattered as much as the present.

They stood
close, but not too close. Stances wary, their shoulders only just touched. The photo was taken at night, and a carousel was illuminated behind them. The stranger who took the photo had insisted he couldn’t see their faces, but they encouraged him to snap it anyway. Blinding halos shone through their hair.

It was one of his favorit
e photos. Hers too. She’d always said it was the only photo to capture their angelic nature.

“It’s never worth it, kid.”

Jarred from his memories, Logan hastily stowed the photo away.

“What isn’t?”

“Being right.”

“Yeah, well.” He
tossed the duffel onto Vincent’s bed. “I hope you’re not getting soft on me, because those are for you. Don’t touch them unless you need to. They’re bound to be contaminated with traces of silver. I’d line the room with shavings, but I think you’ve had enough exposure to silver for one day. If worse comes to worse…”

Vincent nodded
, closing his eyes. “I can shift. I won’t be at full speed for a while, but I can shift.”

“Give ‘em hell.”

He felt the need to say something more permanent in way of goodbye. Prowler instincts were telling him not to leave Vincent alone, especially now that he’d naturally recovered from silver. It was unheard of, making him a prime target for experimentation. Not that anyone else knew of it yet. They’d only just found out themselves.

Logan cleared
the thought from his mind. His only concern at the moment was finding Anna.

Without a backward
glance, he left the motel room.

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