Trail of Dead (Scarlett Bernard #2)(69)

I nodded. “I swear I won’t drive myself to the hospital. I just want to sit down for a second, Jesse, I promise. But I don’t want to sit on the porch by…the body.” And I didn’t want to sit on the ground, because getting up off of it had not been fun the first time, but I didn’t feel the need to mention that.

He searched my face for a long moment, saw that I meant it, and dropped the keys in my palm. “I’ll meet you at the ER,” he promised.

“Oh, Jesse?”

He raised his eyebrows at me.

I told him about the name Kirsten had remembered. “Mallory,” he said thoughtfully. Then he looked back over his shoulder and sighed. “Let me take care of this first.” He took off toward Dashiell.

I limped toward Jesse’s car, feeling the pain in my back. I opened the passenger door, which was closest to the curb, and sort of fell into the low seat. It was better than the ground, I figured. From that spot I could see Jesse confer briefly with Dashiell, keeping his eyes away from Dashiell’s gaze. I felt a silly burst of pride. He was taking care of himself. Jesse talked to some uniformed officers, who began spreading crime-scene tape around the house’s exterior now that the wounded had been cleared away. I leaned back and closed my eyes.

How had everything gotten so messed up, so quickly? The plan had been for me to go to the party in order to identify Olivia’s witch partner. Instead, Olivia herself had shown up and…shot at Kirsten? The gun itself didn’t surprise me; I could see Olivia carrying one on all her recent missions on the off chance that I might show. But unless I’d completely misjudged the angles, it had really seemed like Olivia was aiming at Kirsten, not me, and certainly not Jesse.

Kirsten hadn’t had a picture on the basement wall, though. I had been so sure Olivia’s next move would be to come after someone I loved. Was I completely wrong about Olivia’s plan? Or was Olivia’s plan just on hold until after the night of the solstice? Maybe they were focused on what this other witch, Mallory, wanted, but if that were the case, why come here and kill Kirsten? To keep her from interfering? That seemed awfully random, given that Kirsten was clearly busy and distracted tonight. She hadn’t exactly been about to pound on Mallory’s door.

I rubbed my face in frustration, feeling the muscles in my back cry out from the movement. Tonight was supposed to be about getting answers, and all I had was more frickin’ questions.

I was distracted by my cell phone, which was vibrating in my pocket. I heard the dim strains of “Werewolves of London.” Will. I dug out the phone, wincing at the pain as I leaned sideways. I felt a flash of guilt. He was probably calling about his truck, which was parked on the street back in front of Molly’s house. I’d kind of forgotten all about it. I held the phone to my ear.

“Hey, Will, listen…” I began, but my voice trailed off as I listened to the unmistakable sounds of glass breaking and screaming. Then Will’s voice came on the line, so suddenly I jumped in my seat. “Scarlett!” he screamed. “Get here now!” There was another crash and then a tangle of words, but I could only make out one.

“Wolfberry.”





Chapter 24


So I stole a cop’s car. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I didn’t bother to tell Jesse what I was going to do. He would either insist on coming with me, which would be dangerous for him, or insist that I needed to go to the hospital first, which would be dangerous for everyone at Hair of the Dog. And there was no way in hell I wasn’t going. Eli was at the bar, and if it was Will calling instead of him, then Eli had probably ingested the wolfberry.

As I drove I tried to remember what Olivia had told me about the effects of that strain of nightshade: it caused the werewolves to completely lose control of both the human and the wolf sides. They couldn’t keep from changing back and forth, over and over, which was excruciatingly painful. They attacked humans at will, which was out of character for both real wolves and the shapeshifters, who preferred to hunt deer and rabbits. Most wolves who ingested wolfberry had to be shot. The lucky ones just lost their minds and spent years recovering. The good news was, all of that was caused by werewolf magic interacting with the herb’s magic, so if a null like me could get close enough, he or she could stop everything. Olivia had once said that the only two ways to stop a werewolf who’d ingested wolfberry were a null or a silver bullet.

Olivia. She had done this. I didn’t know how yet, but unlike the scene at Kirsten’s house, this felt like classic Olivia: a big, messy strike at someone I loved, designed to cause maximum damage with no regard for bystanders. I can hurt you whenever I want; that was the message. No one is safe from me. I worked to keep my breathing even as I drove. I had to stay calm. I had to be able to get in there and do this. I wasn’t going to help Eli if I couldn’t keep my shit together. I bit down on a burst of hysterical laughter, my back aching from the effort. I was so past keeping anything together.

I blew through the traffic and only stopped for a single red light, because I wanted to take the opportunity to dig through Jesse’s glove compartment. I was rewarded, though: I found a great big bottle of extra-strength Advil and shook out four pills. I swallowed them with a flat soda that was in Jesse’s cup holder, and then sped on to the bar.

I parked right out in front without bothering to see if it was even a legal spot. As I ran to the entrance, I saw a thin figure on the sidewalk in a defensive crouch, like she expected someone to run up and shove her over. I squinted against the streetlight and recognized Anastasia, an African-American woman in her late twenties. She was a werewolf and one of Will’s part-time bartenders. He must have stationed her out here to let me in and keep everyone else out.