She stood to the side of Dev and waited silently while they talked. It amazed her how much of the horror she'd seen in her visions that Vane left out. But then maybe not. Admitting your father was out to kill you and your brother for no reason had to be hard on him. Who would want to tell that to complete strangers?
While they talked, she went to get food for Vane. She brought it back upstairs and set it down on Carson's desk.
Vane smiled gratefully. "Thank you."
She inclined her head to him. "Do you need anything else?"
He looked wistfully at the closed door that led to the room where Carson was treating Fang. "Guess not."
Aimee touched his shoulder in sympathy, knowing that the one thing he needed was for Fang to be normal and whole. For him to live through this attack.
And for some reason she couldn't name, she needed it too.
Carson came out of the examining room a little time later, after Vane had finished eating and she'd taken the dishes back to the kitchen.
Vane stood up immediately.
She could tell by the sadness in Carson's eyes that it wasn't good news.
"Well?" Vane tapped his hand against his thigh in nervous agitation.
Carson looked at him and sighed. "He's completely unresponsive."
Vane frowned. "What does that mean?"
"He's withdrawn into himself, probably from shock, and isn't reacting to anything I do."
That news didn't seem to please Vane any more than it pleased Aimee. "What about his wounds?"
"They'll heal, but I'm not sure about his mental state. Bones and scrapes, I can fix. What's wrong with him . . . you might need a psychologist."
Vane pushed past him. "Bullshit." He threw open the door to see Fang lying on the table in his wolf's form. But for the subtle rise and fall of his ribs, it would be easy to mistake him for a corpse. He didn't even twitch.
Aimee moved forward to watch as Vane embraced him.
"Fang? C'mon, buddy. Get up."
Fang ignored him completely.
Vane curled his fists in his brother's coat and tugged hard enough to make Aimee cringe. "Damn you. Get up!"
Fang didn't respond at all. He just lay there, unmoving, unblinking. It was as if he'd left this world and gone somewhere else completely.
Carson went to the opposite side of the table. Gently, he pulled Vane's hands away from Fang's fur. "He's not really here with us. It's like his mind can't handle whatever happened to the two of you and he's retreated deep inside himself."
Vane shook his head in denial. "He's stronger than this. He's always been stronger. . . ."
"Even the mightiest oak can be felled by a whisper of a wind if it comes on the heels of a powerful enough storm."
She swallowed the lump in her throat that burned from the sympathetic emotions choking her. Over and over, she saw Fang as he'd been that day she took the steak to him and he'd waited outside for his pack. There had been no weakness to him. He was raw power and integrity. How could this have happened to him?
She agreed with Vane. It didn't make any sense.
"Is there anything we can do?" she asked.
Carson sighed. "I have no idea. I'd say to call Grace Alexander and see if she can help."
Vane scowled. "Who is she?"