Page 47 of A Wolf for Winter

“Someone tried to kill her, that’s what,” Allen snapped. “I startled him, then he hurled himself out the window.”

“You two need to clear the room.”

“Make me.”

The lead nurse’s glare was met with a glower, and she didn’t press the issue when Allen stayed out of the way by the broken window. A doctor appeared then, and Kalina squeezed herself back into the hallway to make room for them all. “She’s waking up!” the doctor exclaimed.

“Who keeps poking me?” Zofia’s voice, raspy from disuse, was still as ornery as before.

“Ma’am, I need you to remain calm.”

“I am calm! Get away from me.” Before they could stop her, she pinched the catheter in her arm and plucked it right out.

“She shouldn’t be this alert,” the second nurse protested.

“Surprise, honey.”

“Mrs. Hollyoak, I really must insist you relax and let us do our work,” the doctor said.

“Don’t you use that tone of voice with me, Jill. I’ve known you since you were born. Now I want out of this bed immediately!”

“Crow, calm down,” Allen said.

The ancient house elf’s head whipped in his direction, then lowered to the bulge in his coat as if she knew that was exactly where he hid her not-cat. “Boy,” was all she said, leaning back against her pillows.

After they stabilized her, Allen insisted she be moved to the Roots’ home. “She’s not safe here. This is the second time she’s been compromised. If she’s stable but needs bed rest, she can stay with Kalina and Jim.”

James had a shotgun he wasn’t afraid to use, and Kalina knew more than one use for a cast-iron skillet. Allen would persuade a hedge witch from Cailleach Lodge to cast a protection spell over the townhouse, or even get the Hawthorne siblings to do it.

The doctor shook her head. “She needs further monitoring—”

“Shut up, Jill, and do what the boy says.”

The doctor snapped her fingers at Zofia, demanding her silence in a very familial fashion. “It’s against hospital policy to release coma patients so soon after awakening. She’s ineligible to sign the discharge papers due to her condition, and unless you’re her next of kin—”

“Who is that?” he demanded, his cell phone already out to contact them and bully them if necessary to release Zofia.

Jill snatched up Zofia’s chart. “Her grandson, it seems. An Allen Sharpe.”

Allen blinked in surprise. He looked down at the opal on his pinky finger and then at the house elf. She was smiling smugly. He returned that smile, digging out his wallet and handing the doctor his ID. Jill sent Zofia a foul look.

“I’d like to sign out my dear grandmother, please,” Allen said sweetly. “Right. Now.”

Prue Stonewell was waiting for them on the sidewalk when they arrived at the Roots’ townhouse.

“You,” he snarled, his wolf bristling.

“Something you’d like to say, Allen?” she quipped, standing her ground. Snowflakes spiraled up the length of her rowan besom, floating to rest on the brim of her pointed hat.

“What are you doing here, Prue?” Kalina tightened her arm around Zofia’s shoulders.

“She’s here to ward your home,” the house elf said. Zofia studied the hedge witch for a moment. “Isn’t that right, old friend?”

Looking sad but determined, Prue nodded.

“Well, get on with it, then.”

“Wait just a minute,” Allen protested.