Bobby shook his head in sharp, jerking movements. “The hunters will—"
"The hunters know better how to find a rogue!” I didn't realize I was screaming, until a couple leaving the bar stopped and stared at me. I took a deep breath and wrapped my arms around myself so tight my ribs hurt.
Nathanial reached for me again, but I stepped away from him. He dropped his arm. “They have not found him yet."
The words draped over me like chains. No, the hunters hadn't found the rogue yet either. Or the clanless. What could I bring them they didn't already know? They were already hunting. They couldn't do anything more simply because I showed up on their doorstep. They might do even less if they truly believed I was responsible.
I looked from Nathanial to Bobby. I looked away. “You know that hypothetical question about having only one day to live?” I let the slightly manic laugh bubble over this time, spilling it from my lungs. “Go. Live. While you still can. Maybe I can give you longer."
Then I turned and ran.
"Shouldn't we—” Gil began as Bobby yelled, “Kitten—"
I didn't stay to listen. Would the judge really track Bobby and Nathanial down if I failed? His mark gave him a line to me, but if they weren't with me ... distance was best. Maybe they would live if we weren't together.
I ran hard, using their surprise to build a lead. Buildings were a blur as I pounded past. I waited for the pain in my chest, the burn and exhaustion that would release endorphins and take me to a zone where I stopped caring, but oblivion eluded me. I would never feel that release again. Not because the judge was going to kill me, but because I wasn't a shifter anymore. Even if I were, I couldn't outrun the judge's threat of death clinging to my tail.
When I finally stopped, I wasn't winded or tired. The only change was my location and the slight chill sinking into my bones. My mind still whirled with purpose and urgency.
Great. Despite my big talk about trying to pack some life into our last hours all I could think about was finding the shifter who created the rogue or who was the rogue. Now what? The clanless was my best lead, but I didn't even know how to get back to the area of town where I'd encountered him. A prick of fear lifted the skin on my neck and phantom pain radiated from my knee at the idea of facing the clanless stray again. I flexed the knee, reassuring it that it hadn't been torn—or at least, not for long. I didn't know if the clanless was involved with the rogue or just hiding in the human world—a stray like me, someone who couldn't bear Firth and its prejudices and expectations anymore. But he was an anomaly in the rogue equation, and as such, worth finding.
I followed the sound of trickling water to a gated courtyard. I wanted solitude. I needed time to think, to plan. The wrought-iron gate was a cinch to scale. Someone had taken pains to clear the snow from a stone path, so I followed it to a fountain in the center of the garden. Steam rose off the water as it ran down several tiers, splashing gently as it hit the basin. I would have liked it if flowers were around, but everything was dead and covered in a heavy layer of snow.
If you were going to be killed for no good reason, it ought to at least be in springtime.
I took my coat off and laid it on the cleared path before leaping up to balance on the ledge of the fountain's basin. Small lions guarded four points of the fountain, water jetting from their roaring mouths. I stroked the cement mane of the statue closest to me. One of my brothers was a lion. He'd been fourteen when I left Firth. Now I'd never see him again.
I hit the statue as hard as I could, and its face shattered. Water spurted out in all directions, drenching my sweater. I cringed and crossed to the other side of the fountain so I couldn't see the damage I'd done. My hand felt numb, and I stared at the shredded skin over my knuckles. They were a pale, pinkish-white; the nerves still in shock at what had happened to them. Slowly, deep red blood surfaced and brought with it a stinging pain that ran up my arm. Apparently being super-strong didn't make me any more impervious to damage.
Snow crunched behind me, and I whirled around. I expected Nathanial or maybe Bobby to have followed me, most likely Nathanial, but a mastiff crouched behind me. Animals tended to have one of three reactions to shifters: most ran away, recognizing us as a large predator; a small few loved and adored us; and a handful decided we were potential rivals to be eliminated or dominated. Unfortunately, the mastiff was not inclined to love me nor make a run for it. He dropped lower, raised his hackles, and let out a tremendous growl.
I froze. He was between me and the gate. The rest of the courtyard was surrounded by an unbroken ring of buildings. No trees and no high places. A shrub would be no protection from this animal's attack.
The dog took a step forward, testing me.
Old instincts took over. Speed had always been my defense. I ran. No thought, I just ran. I reached the wall of a building.
Nowhere to go except up.
I tried to climb the brick. A powerful force slammed into me, knocking me flat against the building. Pain ripped through my upper arm, and I landed on my back in the snow.
The dog planted its front feet on me and lowered its head, teeth bared in my face. A glop of saliva landed on my cheek.
"Missy, down!"
The large dog closed its mouth, then lay down, pinning me below its weight. Footsteps ran toward me. Words drifting to my ears as the man approached.
"No, I'm all right. I need to report an intruder. Yeah I need a police officer at...” A gristly old guy looked down at me. “Cancel that. It was a false alarm. Sorry ... yes, I know ... Sorry again ... uh-huh ... have a nice night.” He snapped the cell phone shut. “What have you caught, Missy? All right, all right. Off, girl. Off."
As soon as the dog lifted its massive weight from my body, I backpedaled. My right arm gave out under me. Crap.
The mastiff growled.
The old man grabbed her collar. “Quiet, Missy.” He regarded me skeptically. One hand remained behind his back, even as he buried the other in the mastiff's coat. “You all right there, girl?"
A shuttering, but thankfully silent, sob racked my body, shaking me. I couldn't speak, so I nodded.
"Well, you need to get outta here. You got no business here. This is private property. Courtyard's owned by these condos. No trespassing. And you need to get that arm looked at."
Again I nodded, and scrubbed my eyes with my left hand. It came away streaked with thin, red liquid. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I pushed off the ground. My right arm throbbed in a way I knew meant it was hurt, seriously hurt. I walked backward, keeping the dog in view. My coat was still by the fountain. I grabbed it as I passed.
Scaling the gate took longer this time. I accidentally caught myself with my bad arm coming down, and a jolt of pain shot through me. I hissed, clutching my bicep. My sweater was tattered; the bite had torn deep into the muscle.
"That was foolish,” Nathanial said, a breath behind me.
I spun around. “Have you been here the whole time?"
"I followed you, yes."
"Then why didn't you help me?"
"You needed no help. You could have snapped that dog's neck without a second thought.” He lifted my arm and shook his head. “Why didn't you?"
"I'm afraid of dogs, all right?"
He looked unimpressed with my great revelation.
I huffed, clutching my hurt arm. “I'm a cat. Dogs kill cats. Like, throw-them-up-in-the-air-and-rip-them-to-shreds-like-a-doll kill cats. It's a rational fear."
"Rational fear perhaps, but irrational reaction. You are not a cat anymore.” He ripped the sweater at the shoulder seam and gently pulled the entire sleeve from my arm. The yarn clung to the wound, the pain making my eyes sting despite his care. Once my arm was bare, he examined the wound more closely. “The bleeding has already stopped. I can—” He looked at my face, and whatever he saw there made him pause. Frowning, he took a handkerchief from his pocket and looped it around the wound. “It will fully heal by next nightfall. Come. We know where we should go next."
Chapter 13
"Why are we here?” I asked as we hung in mid-air several hundred feet over the campus of Haven University.
Far below, the odd-shaped buildings squatted like islands in gleaming lakes of snow. Narrow cobblestone streets cut maze-like paths around the buildings; the occasional blacktop visible where newer streets had been added. Despite the late hour, groups of college kids traveled the sidewalks in noisy packs. I clung tighter to Nathanial with my good arm. What if one of them glanced up?
Nathanial didn't seem disturbed by that possibility, and he didn't answer my question. He hadn't said a word the entire trip. I was worried about that fact. And ticked off at the worry.
A blob of pastel pink moving out of the subway caught my attention. Who but Gil would wear an Easter-egg pink coat? Nathanial began our descent without warning, and the ground leapt toward me. I squeezed my eyes shut—the whole free-fall feeling of landing was definitely not my favorite part of flying. The wind rushing under me died as my feet touched the pavement. I staggered away from Nathanial, my heart racing. Flying was a rush—I had to give it that. At Nathanial's frown I tried to slow my heartbeat, tried not to waste Evan's gift of blood.
Gil jumped as I stumbled into her path, and then two thick arms wrapped around me. Bobby dragged me into a hug like I'd been gone for several years instead of half an hour. He crushed me against his chest, and I yelped as a fresh wave of pain shot down my arm.
He pulled back, his face drawn in concern. I'd put my coat on, so the fact my arm had been gnawed on wasn't visible, but the smell of blood clung to me.
Bobby's eyes narrowed and he glared at Nathanial. “What did you do to her?"
Nathanial removed his glasses and silently cleaned them.
I pushed away from Bobby. “He didn't do anything."
Stepping back allowed me to meet Bobby's eyes without craning my neck. I'd meant to stare him into not asking how I'd hurt myself, but his right eye was swollen and purple. “What happened to you?"