me how much swamp there is in the Tri-Cities, which is pretty much a desert. The rest of me sparkled, as though I'd covered myself with some glitter lotion instead of having a window broken over my sweat-covered body. Here and there were larger chunks of glass that dripped off me every time I moved - my hair was littered with them.
And everywhere, I was covered with tiny cuts that oozed blood. I picked up my foot and removed a largish splinter that was responsible for the small pool of blood that was growing around me. All the cuts were really going to hurt tomorrow. Not for the first time, I wished I healed like the werewolves did.
Steam began to rise from the shower and I trudged in and shut the glass door behind me. The water stung and I hissed as it hit tender bits - then swore when I stepped on another shard of glass, probably one of the ones that had fallen out of my hair as soon as the water hit me.
Too tired to fish the glass out, I leaned against the wall and let the water pour over my head and relief rolled over me with it, robbing my knees of their last bit of starch. Only the fear that I'd sit on glass and cut something more dear than my feet kept me from sinking to the tiled shower floor.
I took inventory.
I was still alive, and with the possible exception of Ben, so were the werewolves. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of the red wolf lying in the grass. Ben would probably be all right. Werewolves can take a lot of damage and there had been the others to keep the fae off him while he was helpless. He'd be all right, I reassured myself - but it didn't matter. Somehow I was going to have to work up the energy to get out of the shower and check.
The bathroom door opened, and I felt the wash of Adam's power.
"There's a Porsche sitting in the middle of Finley Road, right in front of Two Rivers Park," I said, though I hadn't remembered it until just that moment. "Someone's going to hit it and get killed if it doesn't get moved."
The door opened again and there was a quiet murmur of voices.
Even over the drowning spray of the water, I heard someone say, "I'll take care of it." Honey's husband again, I thought, because the werewolves can't talk in their wolf shape and he was the only one who had stayed human. Some of the wolves could have changed back by now - but without a good reason to do so, they'd probably just stay wolves for the night. Except for Adam.
Changing so quickly to fight the fae I'd brought him, the actual fight, then changing back in under an hour weren't going to leave him in a cheerful mood. I hoped he'd eaten something before he came up here - changing cost a lot of energy and I'd rather he not be hungry. I was bleeding too much for that to be good.
Telling Adam to take care of Fideal's car was supposed to have given me enough time to get out of the shower and wrap up in a towel, but I couldn't work up the energy to do anything but stand in the shower stall.
The big glass door swung open, but I didn't look up. Adam didn't say anything, but turned me with his hands on my shoulders so I was facing the showerhead. I bowed my head farther and took a step forward so the spray hit the top of my head rather than my face.
He must have picked up a comb, because he started to comb my hair free of glass. He was being very careful not to touch me anywhere else.
"Watch it," I said. "There's glass all over the floor."
The comb hesitated and then resumed its task. "I have my shoes on," he said. The rumble of his growl told me that the wolf wasn't far away no matter how human or gentle the hands that worked through my hair were.
"Is everyone all right?" I asked, though I knew he needed quiet now.
"Ben's hurt, but nothing that won't heal by morning - and nothing he doesn't deserve after jumping through the window. Glass is heavy and sharper than a guillotine's blade. He's lucky he didn't cut his own throat - and luckier still that all you