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“May I?” Lisa asked.
Nodding, I peeled the fabric away from the line of mangled steri-strips and torn skin.
She gasped. “Shit! You’ve been talking so calm; I thought for sure it was superficial!”
“Adrenaline?” I guessed. “Shock?”
Lisa ordered me into the backseat and retreated to the trunk. I settled sideways across the cushion with my legs stuck where she could reach. She stuffed a beach towel under me. “Longest is a good six inches. I'll tighten this up, but we need to move.”
“An ambulance is coming.”
“We’ve got you, girl.” She leaned her head over the car door. “Wyatt, tell the sheriff to meet us at Bayberry Hill ER.”
The ER was the only place I wanted Wyatt walking into. I tried to push past Lisa. “Wait! Wyatt, can you lift the garage door and grab the carriers off the shelf by the snowblower? I forgot to tell the sheriff where they were.”
Lisa laid a gloved hand on my shoulder. “For fuck’s sake, Marcy, relax.”
As Wyatt poked around in the garage for carriers I knew weren’t there, the sheriff appeared, hissing cats crated in either hand, and ordered him back to the car.
Relieved, I laid flat on the seat. Lisa opened the sunroof to give me a distraction while she worked. For the first time since sunset I felt a resounding sense of safety and security, and then Lisa applied pressure.
Propped on my elbows, I examined the blood and spreading bruises until the sweat came hard and a fly-like buzz annoyed my ears. “I’m gonna pass out.”
“Lay back.” Lisa scissored a neat square out of my yoga pants. “Remember when you slipped out of your flipflop and stubbed your toe in the Mystic Seaport parking lot?”
I laid across the seat, folded my hands on my stomach and turned my fading gaze onto sepia-toned, twinkling stars. “I remember you laughing.”
“Hey, I always check if you’re okay first. Tiny splotch of blood and you got so nauseous you had to sit in the grass to keep from passing out, but tonight, here you are, walking on this? Who are you and what’ve you done with Marcy?”
My voice echoed in my own ears. “Haven’t been this scared since I was small,” I whispered, then fainted.
I came-to with my cheek pressed against a warm shoulder. Lisa had tucked my legs into the car. The sheriff leaned in, close enough I got a hint of cucumber melon body wash.
“Your cats could turn the devil chicken,” he murmured, turning his hand over to reveal an Igor-sized bite on the plump part of his thumb.
I leaned away, all the better to glimpse concern in his warm, human eyes. “Samson gives what you deserve; Igor, whatever she wants. They okay?”
“Spitting mad,” he said. “Your housemate gave me her address. I'll return them there. I'll do what I can to keep the pests out, but I'm afraid your home is uninhabitable. I can let you in tomorrow afternoon for what’s needed: cat food, clothing, bags to skip town ‘til this blows over.”
“Gram’s gun?”
He frowned.
So did I. “So that’s a ‘no’ on my only weapon capable of taking down a bear?”
“Your shot almost got me killed.” He tapped my forehead. “Your brain got the animal out of your house.”
“That pile of rocks between my ears was also responsible for keeping me home in the first place. I need the gun. For nothing else if not practice.”
“I ain’t in the habit of returning weapons, however, I will consider the particulars of this case, Miss Davins, and get you your answer promptly.” He massaged his thumb. Igor’s teeth marks were already a faded stippling of pink. “When you need to talk, give me a call."
???
Secondary to the wait, the worst part about the ER was convincing myself I had escaped unscathed from the fangs of lunacy. Due to the nature of the scratch, I received the first in a series of rabies vaccination shots.
The physicians didn’t know werewolf claws had scored my thigh, or that I’d spent several minutes digging a bullet out of the sheriff’s shoulder. Had infectious material from Caelan’s transformation seeped into my wound? The thought made me nervous, but he wouldn’t have left me in human hands if there was any chance of a news story involving a wolf in a hospital gown.
So I deemed myself sore, but safe. I tried not to think about the other reason the sheriff may not have halted my hospital trip: if the first shift featured a unique timeline, such as taking a month for the body to grapple with the infection before the change occurred. I didn’t want to become a werewolf. I couldn’t handle becoming the very beast that had, in my nightmares, destroyed my family.
