Neva raced down Main Street, suddenly glad for the storm. At least she didn't have to worry about traffic. What do you smell? Tell me.
Age. Death. Antiseptic.
Sav didn't realize she was in the hospital, obviously. Look beyond that.
Sour milk.
Sour milk? What on earth did that mean? Give me more, Savannah. You're a wolf and a ranger. Use your skills, damn it.
The link was silent for a long moment. Neva raced left onto South King Street and saw the warm glow of lights through the icy whiteness. She wasn't that far away now.
I remember that smell. It belonged to the wolf who attacked me.
Fear flashed though her, spreading like fire through her body, lending her feet greater speed. He's in the hospital with you?
Not in the room. Sav hesitated. But close.
Can you see him?
No. Can't see anything. Bandages.
Neva felt like cursing. The severity of the wounds on her sister's face had forced many painstaking hours of microsurgery, and most of Savannah's face and neck had been bandaged.
Listen, then. What do you hear?
Footsteps. Coming closer.
She was never going to get there in time. Feel for the buzzer, Savannah. Call the nurse.
It might be the nurse.
Not if she smells the same as the wolf who attacked you. None of the nurses in the hospital smell like sour milk.
Neva changed shape as she raced through the hospital's main entrance. An almost overwhelming tide of emotion hit her — not Savannah's, not hers, just the misery and pain of countless hospital patients, past and present, lingering in the air. She slammed up her shields, but the emotive swirl still seeped past, making her ache. And her parents wondered why she refused to come to the hospital much.
She continued on towards the stairs, knowing she couldn't afford to wait for the elevator. Not when the killer was in the hospital and going after Savannah. Nurses shouted after her, telling her to slow down, telling her visiting hours weren't for another two hours. She ignored them and took the stairs two at a time.
She crashed through the door to the third floor corridor and raced down the hall. There were nurses running ahead of her, and fear surged. Both hers and Savannah's.
Surely the murderer couldn't have gotten to her sister. Sav was still listed as critical, and no one but immediate family was supposed to be allowed in the room. Down the far end of the hall the exit door slowly closed. Was it the killer retreating or someone else?
The nurses are here. He's not. Savannah's mind voice was stronger. He's left. Don't give chase.
Like hell she wouldn't. She was not only going to go after him, but she was going to kill the bastard. Going to grab his mind and fry his brain with emotion.
No! Savannah's horror stung her mind.
He has to be stopped, Neva said grimly.
He has to face the weight of the courts, not be killed.
Neva snorted. Yeah, right. With good behavior he'd be out in ten or less. That's not enough punishment for what he's done.
I'm a ranger, Neva. I can't condone vigilante behavior, and I certainly can't let you do this.
I made promises to the moon —
I don't care. You can't do this. I won't let you.