Chewy gave him a single, jutting nod. “Hoss.” His voice that too calm of the wounded warrior facing an uncertain future, Chewy said, “Shoulda seen that up front. Damn grindylow with Brute. Grindy’s have one job in life.”
Liz walked to Chewy and dropped down, to sit on her heels. She put out a hand and touched Chewy’s bandages. “Ohhh.”
“There’s a treatment,” Eli said, “if it gets started right away. I’m heading downhill fast. As soon as I have a signal, I’ll call for evac to this location, and also call Jane to get the Mercy Blade to come to the inn. If he’ll come, and if he can get there in time, and if he wants to, he can heal you.”
“What do you mean if he wants to?” Liz demanded. “Why wouldn’t he want to?”
“Can’t prove it, but the timing suggests that he knew Jane’s former boyfriend had contracted the taint and he did nothing to stop it until it was too late,” Eli said, his tone cold. “But I can put pressure on Gee DeMercy.”
“We can’t leave the werewolf corpse or the pups…” She stopped. “What do we do about the pups?”
“When I find the corpse, I’ll pin the location and send a team back to burn the body. The pups were showing signs of mad cow disease. If they’re diagnosed with it, they’ll be given palliative care until they die. There’s no treatment or cure. If they have the were-taint …” He shrugged into his lightweight pack, not finishing the sentence. The Grindy had that kill. “If they don’t have mad-cow, rabies, and do have were-taint, maybe they can go to the Montana werewolf pack. We’ll figure it out later.” He slung his shotgun on its strap over his shoulder and divided the ammo with Chewy. His friend didn’t look so good. Skin heading toward ashy. A little clammy. “Right now, I need a signal to call out for help. Liz, get a fire going. Keep Chewy hydrated. Treatment for shock as needed. You know how?”
“Yes,” she said, as if the orders were a lifeline. She looked pale but suddenly more in control. “Okay. And I’ve got more healing amulets. I’ll put one under his tongue.”
Eli gave her a hard jut of his head and half-leaped into a run—not much more than a controlled fall—down the hill. He’d been fully human once, no fanghead blood in his system. There were times when he hated that he was something a little more now, except when those attributes—being a hair faster, a skosh more agile, with better healing abilities than once before—could save his friend’s life.
He’d seen men die. Chewy was closer to that final breath than he wanted to think about. Something caught his eye. He slowed. Came to a stop.
Ahead, there was splash of blood against a tree.
Brute
He chuffedin approval as the former army ranger tore down the mountain. As the ranger disappeared, Brute’s tail wagged, pretty much all by itself. His wolf nature was still strong, despite the angel doing some kinda holy-magic-shit to give his human mind better control over it. His tail, his nose, and his snarl still had a wolf mind of their own, and he was grateful it was nearly the new moon. The three days of the full moon were a bitch on his instincts.
Brute jogged back uphill to Chewy. Dude looked like shit. Smelled like death. Too much blood loss. Were-taint in his system. If Eli didn’t hurry, Chewy’d die. If he did hurry, Chewy would be a werewolf, and he’d be sent to Montana to live with the pack. Brute had visited the pack. Bunch a pansies. But Chewy was a seriously big dude. Maybe Chewy could hold his own with the ancient werewolf on the gulf coast, Sarge. Or maybe he and Chewy could start their own pack. Or maybe Chewy would just die.
Brute sat down and sniffed Chewy. He looked at Liz and gave a little bark. Like a whuff. But he was thinking,Idiot human can’t smell death.
Liz lugged a rock over, about the size of his foot when he was human. He didn’t notice where it came from, but it smelled like meat, so maybe one of the guys’ packs. She took off her necklace and pulled four stones off it. One was a blue stone carved like a hippo. He didn’t get a look at the others before she tucked them into Chewy’s bandages.
Chewy sighed a soft, “Thanks,” and closed his eyes.
Brute frowned as the big guy fell into a deep sleep. Sleep amulets?
On the foot sized rock she had placed beside his elbow, Liz piled small red stones. Near them, she put three bottles of water and an MRE. Pasta alfredo. That was nasty stuff. She should have used the roast beef.
Brute was hungry, but he’d starve before he ate that alfredo shit. Still watching, Brute went to Chewy’s pack and nosed around until he found the venison jerky. He ripped through the paper and wolfed three down.Haha. Wolfed three down. Someday he’d share his one liners again.
She carried Chewy’s shotgun and all the ammo to the angled tree Eli had used as a firing hide. Then she dragged a tree branch over and shoved it close to the bleeding man, draping Chewy’s legs over it, high enough to make a good treatment for shock.
Chick was working hard, breathing hard, sweating. Anddamnshe looked good. It sucked being a wolf.
She took her sharp, broken stick and carved a new circle around Chewy. She activated the circle she had just made, and softly, she whispered, “I hope this is as strong as I think it is.”
She grabbed an MRE for herself and two bottles of water. When she saw he was watching, she poured out a bottle for him, into the paper bowl. “Water.”
He chuffed and brought her the last packet of jerky.
“Thanks. I’ll be in the tree. You smell something, you let me know, Okay? And then get out of the way. I can hit the side of a barn with a handgun, but shotguns are not my strong point. I’d hate to hit you.”
She was gonna try and shoot any attacker.Crazy ass witch.
She carried the shotgun and ammo up into Eli’s hide.
He drank the water.
And then the wind shifted hard. Blowing from the east, He caught a whiff of rabid dog.
