Page 28 of Wolf Bane (Marked #3)

Zero’s enthusiasm for their label maker was diametrically opposed to Benoit’s feelings about what I was about to do.

“And then what?” he demanded for the third or fourth time, cornering me while I drew blood from one of his clan. “You get the blood, your doctor friend takes a gander, then what?”

“Then,” I repeated, far less patiently than before, keeping my attention on the tiny butterfly needle in the restless woman’s arm, “we start to work on a treatment. If possible. And stop breathing down my neck, for fuck’s sake!

Until recently, my patients were far less mobile, so this is taking some concentration! ”

That addendum just stoked the fire of his frustration higher. “You’re just gonna turn your back on us like they did,” he seethed. “You think I’m letting you walk out of here?—”

“If you don’t, I’ll make sure you don’t walk out of here either,” Waltrip said quietly.

Benoit rounded on him, red-faced and tight with rage. “I can’t believe you, Wally. I thought you’d be on our side after?—”

The growl that rose from Waltrip’s throat was sharp and loud.

Benoit made a dismissive gesture but backed down.

Like, literally back down, head dipped low and everything.

I widened my eyes at Waltrip, a silent what the fuck was that , but he just shook his head, keeping his glare on Benoit.

“I’m on the side of whoever’s not killing weres and shifters. That’s all you need to know, Benoit.”

Benoit lifted his chin and, cutting a glance at me, smirked. “But is it all he needs to know? Or have you not told him about being one of the council’s flying monkeys seven years ago?”

I perked up, my still-aching head giving a pulse of protest. “I’d heard some hints but nothing definite. Care to share with the class, Waltrip?”

“Not especially.”

But Benoit sure did. “Waltrip here was a little golden child for the council ‘bout a decade ago. Barely out of training pants, and he was up there kissing all the asses. Cause of your mama, wasn’t it?”

Waltrip didn’t go pale. He didn’t flush in anger. He didn’t even go still. But something shifted in the air around him, some subtle change, that set my feelers on high alert. And Benoit felt it too. He didn’t back off though. He puffed his chest out like a banty rooster and jerked his chin up.

“Am I lyin’?” he demanded. “Your mama got you a job there and then you turned tail and?—”

“And that’s enough,” Waltrip said calmly. “This isn’t the time or place.”

Benoit grunted, turning his glare back to me. “It’ll be soon enough. And you’re still not leavin’.”

“Then your people aren’t getting help. There’s nothing I can do for them here, and if you think holding me hostage like some pet physician is going to change things, you’ve got another think coming.”

Holding out my arm, I peeled back the gauze to expose the still healing wound, definitely improved over a few hours ago but still raw and angry looking.

“You’ve already proven I’m pretty disposable, Benoit. Why should I stay here and become a chew toy for your sidekick whenever you feel like I’m not moving fast enough?”

Waltrip snorted. “Got you.”

Silence thick as clay settled over us for a very long moment.

Finally, the sound of gravel crunching under tires and raised voices outside the door pushed me into action.

That had to be Ethan—I could feel it in my bones.

And I wanted to get the fuck back home with him right that instant.

Waltrip motioned for me to stay, but I followed anyway.

Zero and Slidell popped around the door leading into the infirmary, Zero’s brows raised in question.

“My ride,” I said with a tight smile. “Keep labeling the vials please. It’s almost time for me to head out.”

I caught up to Waltrip as Ethan was parking in the patch of broken asphalt and chunky gravel between the hospital’s old emergency exit and Benoit’s trailer.

Waltrip and Benoit had beat me there, along with Daniel the Biter and two other weres I didn’t recognize.

Ethan was already out and standing beside his truck, hands held low and out to the side.

Unlike other weres I’d seen when approached by a clan or pack leader, he didn’t dip his chin at Benoit’s approach.

Instead, Ethan just glared steadily at Benoit and waited.

A quick glance from Waltrip kept me from getting too close. But God, I wanted to. So, so, bad.

“Benoit,” Ethan said, his low voice cutting through the mutters and posturing around him. Ethan raised a hand to point at me, his expression unreadable. “You have something of mine.”

Oh. Hello new kink .

“I should be offended at being relegated to property status,” I muttered to Zero, who swayed unsteadily beside me, “but it’s kind of hot, and I’m gonna unpack all that later.”

The very tiniest of twitches tugged the corner of Ethan’s lips. Benoit wasn’t having any of it, though.

“All I got here is a doctor who won’t work. He’s got the council backing him, does he not?”

Waltrip made an annoyed, dangerous sound. “We’ve been through this.”

“Enough dick swinging, for fuck’s sake.” I groaned, letting my head loll back in dramatic teenage fashion. “Ethan, I have a plan. Benoit doesn’t like it. I’m doing it anyway. There. All caught up.”

Someone snorted.

I think it was Zero.

Ethan gave Benoit a final glare before turning his full attention to me. “Show me.”

* * *

The vials were neatly arranged in carrying cases, the cold packs rummaged from who knew where. Fern gave me a wary, tired nod. “That should keep till you can get them into the proper storage set up, but no more than six hours.”

“It’ll be less than that,” I promised, looking over to where Ethan and Waltrip were talking with their heads bent close. “I’m pretty sure, anyway.”

Fern grunted thoughtfully. “When you find out?—”

“I’m less than three hours away,” I said. “And I’m not going to just let y’all die here. If I find something out, everyone gets to know.”

She nodded. “Well. Alright then. Hey, Benoit… I love the old asshole, but sometimes he doesn’t think things out, you know? Hearing about you being so close and now working for the council?—”

“How’d he hear about that, anyway?” I asked, frowning. “It’s not like we sent out flyers or something. Does he still talk to the council?”

Fern’s expression shuttered, her small smile brittle and forced. “Oh. Benoit’s got ears to the ground. You know how it is.”

I thought of Tyler. And Waltrip. And Cullen. They always seemed to know things before anyone else, but that was largely to being in the right place at the right time or having ways . Benoit… so far, he didn’t seem to have similar inroads into the necessary communities, but maybe I was being judgey.

Maybe Benoit had some super-secret ninja spy skills under that angry exterior that I’d witnessed threatening to punch a coffee maker not an hour earlier.

Ethan glanced up at me, his expression softening for a moment before he returned his attention to Benoit and Waltrip.

Fern motioned for me to join her and Zero, so I left Ethan with the others for a few minutes, making my way down the long row of sick bodies.

“The most we’ve been able to do for the sick ones is make them comfortable,” Fern murmured, pushing sweat-damp hair back from her eyes.

“When they reach the feral stage, there’s nothing much we can do then except either stay out of the way or…

” She hesitated. “Well. There’s nothing we can do. That’s the end for them.”

“What do you mean the end ?” Publishing a news story about people who went feral and turned into werewolves wouldn’t exactly float in most news orgs (looking at you, Weekly World News ) but there would have been some mention, even from Cullen, right?

“I mean,” Fern said quietly, barely above a whisper, “they try to kill others and have to be stopped. It’s not something we relish, Doctor Babin, but we can’t let them loose on the community.”

I thought of Melly Clemens. Mariska. “Even children?”

Her expression shuddered. “We haven’t had to deal with sick children yet. All of our affected are adults.” She looked past me and gave a tight nod to someone entering the infirmary. “Zero’s been the longest survivor.”

Zero shuffled over, gaunt and sallow. “Not for lack of trying,” they muttered. “If I could just die now, I’d be fine with it.”

Fern shook her head when I opened my mouth to protest, to tell them they’d be okay. Instead, I defaulted to doctor mode and reached out to check their pulse. “It is always this fast?”

Zero nodded. “Even when I was well.” They glanced at Fern, who took the hint and moved to another cot to adjust the saline drip for the patient. “Slidell is in denial,” they murmured. “They think I’m going to get better. But I know, Doctor Babin. I know down in my bones I won’t.”

They turned their face up to me, eyes wide and red with unshed tears.

“Do you believe me, that I know? I’m refusing this palliative care mess because I refuse to spend whatever time I have left hooked to a bag and pissing into a bowl because I can’t get up.

I’m just mad it’s taking so damn long. I want to feel better,” they hissed, curling in on themselves like Aunt Cleverly’s resurrection plant.

Carefully, I sat beside them on the rickety cot we’d adopted as a bench.

“When I was in medical school, I spent time with patients who were terminally ill, and time with people who became suddenly unwell. A few knew they were dying. They were so certain, no matter what tests we ordered or procedures we did that showed they weren’t dying at that time.

And after the first two or three, I started to trust them.

Two is a coincidence, three is a pattern. ”

Zero smiled wanly. “No platitudes, Doc? No assurances I’ll make it?”

“If there’s a way to make sure you live, we’re going to find it.” I hoped. I wished.

They watched my expression for a long moment then gave a satisfied nod. “I believe that you believe that.” Zero patted the back of my hand, gave my fingers a squeeze then, with more energy than I expected someone in their state to have, popped to their feet.

“Come on. Everyone’s being all secretive, and it’s bullshit. If they want your help, they need to give you help first. Help me talk to everyone who was there that day.”

I wanted to go home.

I was tired. Exhausted. Whatever was beyond exhausted.

All on levels deeper than just needing rest. Fern eyed me warily and I decided, at least for the moment, to pack away her evasiveness with everyone else’s and get on with things.

I still needed to call Cullen and that, I knew would take the last remaining tiny dessert spoon I had left.

“Come on. I want to get samples from unexposed folks. Then,” I clapped my hands together and gave Zero a big, tired grin, “I have a spreadsheet to update!”