The Better to Bite (Howl #1)(61)

“It was just an accident,” he repeated again as the EMT frowned. I heard the growl lying beneath the words and the EMT quickly nodded. I figured that he’d heard that menacing growl, too.

“R-right. Sure thing.” Then the EMT went to work on me.

I met Rafe’s gaze. I didn’t know what to think of him. Dangerous, dark, but he’d gone into that fire. He’d saved those people.

His fingers took mine, wrapping lightly around them.

Right then, the big, bad werewolf made me feel safe.

***

I had vague memories of being wheeled into the hospital. Of some guy in a surgical mask pushing one very long needle into my arm and then sewing my flesh back together.

Rafe was in my memories, telling me that everything was okay.

I felt like he lied, but I didn’t argue.

When I opened my eyes to the stark white hospital room, I expected Rafe to be there.

He wasn’t. My dad was. With stubble covering his jaw and his tired eyes stained by shadows, he watched me from the bedside chair. When he caught my stare, he smiled. “Hi, baby. Welcome back.”

I didn’t feel like I’d been away. I’d woken up alert, and worried. “Cass…”

My voice sounded a little hoarse. I wasn’t sure why. My dad immediately handed me a Styrofoam cup with a straw sticking out of the top. I slurped greedily and the water felt great on my parched throat.

Why did I feel like I’d been screaming?

I drank until I’d drained the cup, then I immediately asked again, “Cass? Dad, what happened to her?” My voice sounded a little less like a frog’s croak. A little.

He put the cup down. I shifted on the bed, trying to sit up more. The stitches in my arm pulled a bit. One arm had been marked by claws and now, one arm sported a bullet wound. Nice. I’d be wearing long-sleeved shirts for a while.

My dad exhaled on a long sigh. “There was only so much I could do. She had a gun, and when the firefighters and EMTs arrived, she started shouting about werewolves.”

Crap.

His lips thinned. “She’s in the psych ward now.”

A chill rose on my flesh.

“When you feel up to it, you have to talk to her,” he said. “If we can push it as a-a—”

“Psychotic break?” Yeah, I knew the term. My dad had dealt with some really screwed up felons in Chicago. Thanks to him, and all those law and crime shows on TV that I liked to watch so much, I knew how these situations went.

“We might be able to keep her out of jail.” His hand jerked through his already tousled hair. “Losing her grandmother, it’s understandable that she’s traumatized. She was emotional, over-wrought.” He shook his head. “I just wish she hadn’t come to the theater with the gun. What the hell was she thinking?”

Vengeance.

“She was going to attack innocents,” he said.

Only Cassidy didn’t think werewolves were innocent.

And my dad had been ready to shoot her. He had shot, that was why my arm throbbed with every breath I took. “She needs help,” I told him, and it was the truth. He knew that.

“Yes.” His gaze held mine, then dropped. “Anna, I am so sorry.” He leaned closer to the bed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. I remembered him doing that—before, when the ambulance’s siren had been screaming. “I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. I just—I’d told her to drop the weapon. But she lifted the gun. I didn’t see you behind her, and I had to stop her.”

I understood his job and the price he paid to do it. “It’s okay, Dad.”

But I could tell by his expression that it wasn’t, and wouldn’t be, not for a long time.

“Do you…did you get any chance to talk to the—” Should I just call them wolves? Werewolves? “Did you talk to them last night?” I asked instead, making sure my emphasis wasn’t subtle.

A nod. “They all swore they hadn’t hurt anyone.”

Like a killer would just straight-up confess. “Did you believe them?”

“I believe Jon and Charles when they say they will patrol the woods each night. If a werewolf is out there, hunting, they’ll damn well find him.”

If? They were long past the if stage.

“And when they find him, then what?” I wanted the truth. At this point, I thought I deserved it.

He gave it to me. “A prison can’t hold a werewolf. At the first change…” He shook his head. “There’s only one way to stop a wolf that’s gone bad.”

Death.

The door swung open then, and a pretty nurse came into the room. She smiled at my dad, that too-bright smile that I’d always seen pretty women give him. He acted like he didn’t notice her flirtation. Same way he always did.

“You’re awake!” She said with high perk in her voice. “That’s so wonderful! You’re all stitched up and the doctor says that you can go home—”

“She’s not leaving until tomorrow.” My dad’s flat voice cut right through her cheer. His gaze locked on mine once more. “You stay here tonight.”

Because tonight was the full moon. Dad would be hunting with Charles and Jon, and I knew he wanted me safe.

I exhaled and nodded even as the nurse stammered something about checking with the doctor.