howling in the dark.
27
Winter
When Alex woke, she thought she was back in the hospital in Van Nuys. The white walls.
The beeping machines. Hellie was dead. Everyone was dead. And she was going to jail.
The illusion was fleeting. The pain burning in the wound at her side brought her back
to the present. The horror of what had happened at Il Bastone returned in a rapid blur: red
lights flashing, Turner and the cops flooding up the stairs. The uniforms had sent a jolt of
panic through her, but then … What’s your name, kiddo? Talk to me. Can you tell me what
happened? You’re all right now. You’re all right. How gently they spoke to her. How gently they handled her. She heard Turner talking: She’s a student, a freshman. Magic words. Yale falling over her, shroud and shield. Take courage; no one is immortal. Such power in a few words, an incantation.
Alex pushed her blankets back and yanked at her hospital gown. Every movement hurt.
Her side had been stitched up and was covered in bandages. Her mouth was dry and cottony.
A nurse bustled in with a big smile on her face as she rubbed hand sanitizer between
her palms. “You’re up!” she said brightly.
Alex read the name on the tag attached to her scrubs and felt a chill creep over her.
Jean. Was this Jean Gatdula? The woman Skull and Bones had paid to take care of Michael Reyes, to care for all of their victimae for the prognostications? It couldn’t be coincidence.
“How are you, sweetheart?” the nurse asked. “How’s your pain?”
“I’m good,” Alex lied. She didn’t want them doping her up. “Just a little groggy. Is Pamela Dawes here? Is she okay?”
“Down the hall. She’s being treated for shock. I know you’ve both been through it, but
you have to rest now.”
“That sounds good,” Alex said, letting her eyelids flutter closed. “Could I have some juice?”
“You bet,” said Jean. “Back before you know it.”
As soon as the nurse was gone, Alex made herself sit up and slide out of bed. The pain
forced her to breathe shallowly, and the sound of her own panting made her feel like an
animal caught in a trap. She needed to see Dawes.
She was hooked to her IV so she took it with her, wheeling it along beside her, grateful
for the support. Dawes’s room was at the end of the hall. She was propped up in her hospital bed on top of the covers, dressed in NHPD sweats. They were far too big for her
and dark navy, but otherwise they would have fit perfectly into her grad student uniform.
Dawes turned her head on the pillow. She said nothing when she saw Alex, just
wriggled over to the edge of the bed to make room.
Carefully, Alex hoisted herself into the bed and laid down beside her. There was barely
space for the two of them, but she didn’t care. Dawes was okay. She was okay. They had
somehow survived this.
“The dean?” she asked.
“He’s stable. They put him in a cast and pumped him full of blood.”
“How long have we been here?”
“I’m not sure. They sedated me. I think at least a day.”
For a long time, they lay in silence, the sounds of the hospital filtering down the hall to
them, voices at the nurses’ station, the click and whir of machines.
Alex was drifting into sleep when Dawes said, “They’re going to cover it all up, aren’t
they?”
“Yeah.” Jean Gatdula was a sure sign of that. Lethe and the other societies would use
every bit of their influence to make sure that the true details of the night never came to light. “You saved my life. Again.”
“I killed someone.”
“You killed a predator.”
“His parents are going to know he was murdered.”
“Even alligators have parents, Dawes. That doesn’t stop them from biting.”
“Is it over now?” Dawes asked. “I want … normal.”
If you ever find it, let me know.
“I think so,” Alex said. Dawes deserved some kind of comfort, and it was all she could
offer. At least now this whole gnarled mess would unravel. Blake would be the thread that