Then she realized that in this place he couldn't possibly show them he was a werewolf.
I don't think she had noticed the full extent of Samuel's problem yet.
She just turned to the doctor and started speaking medical gibberish.
A gurney appeared, and Ben lifted Adam out of my lap and onto it.
A host of hospital personnel showed up and emptied the X-ray storage room of boxes--with very little respect for the existing organization.
Someone was going to be upset about that.
Dr.
Fournier was paged to the third floor and left with the same brisk efficiency with which he seemed to manage everything--including werewolves in his ER.
With everything out, there was room, if only just, for all of us, the gurney, and the tray of tools Jody brought in.
"Fournier isn't as good as Doc Cornick when things go bad." Jody gave me a sharp look as Mary Jo and Ben maneuvered Adam to the center of the little room, and I wondered if she was thinking about how many werewolves I seemed to know and connecting it to the fact that I was Samuel's roommate.
If so, she didn't seem to be hysterical at the thought of all the werewolves who were here at the moment, so maybe she'd keep quiet about her suspicions.
"Fournier didn't get hurt," I said.
"He didn't make anything worse.
That's good enough for me." "Do you need help?" she asked bravely.
I smiled at her.
"No.
I think that Mary Jo can handle it." I'd have rather had Jody and the doctor, but Adam wouldn't thank me for putting humans at risk.
Like Jody, I'd really rather have had Samuel .
.
.
who had disappeared from my side.
"It's not a sterile environment, but it sounds like that's not important." "No," I told Jody distractedly.
Where had Sam gotten to? "Werewolves deal with germs better than people do.
Looks like they're ready to go." I closed the door, took a deep breath, and turned to Mary Jo.
"Do you know what to do? I have to find Sam." "I'm here." Samuel was naked as the day he was born, and sweating freely from the speed of his change.
His skin was filthy with dust and fae blood--a condition he was remedying with a bucket of water and a towel that must have been among the things Mary Jo had required.
His eyes were gray, a shade or two lighter than normal, but the other wolves would doubtless put it to changing.
"I'll take care of it." "Samuel," I said.
But he looked away and took up something that looked like a scrub brush, with stiff bristles.
"I need you to hold him down.