Wild Country (The World of the Others #2)- Anne Bishop Page 0,202

Dawn said. “Is there anything we can bring back for you?”

“Water.”

They hurried away, and Jesse hurried back to Nicolai.

Not knowing what was wrong with him, she stayed out of his reach. But she also stayed within sight so he would know he wasn’t alone.

A few minutes later, Tolya walked in.

Jesse felt a moment of relief, even joy, at seeing him before she registered what she was seeing—or not seeing in his dark eyes.

This was a Sanguinati male without any pretense of humanity. Oh, the shape was still human enough, but it was a predator who stared at her.

“Nicolai needs your help,” she said.

He dipped his head in the slightest acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving her face, never losing awareness of her hands—and the rifle she held.

Keeping the gun pointed at the ground, she moved slowly toward the door. He turned with her, keeping her in sight, his attention never wavering.

Predator. Other.

And she was human, one of the distrusted.

It surprised her how much that hurt.

She didn’t want to believe he and the rest of the terra indigene had become enemies of the humans living in Bennett and Prairie Gold, but she wasn’t sure that was true.

What had it cost the terra indigene to win this fight—and what had the humans lost?

* * *

* * *

Virgil left the hospital. Stinky place. Kept making him sneeze.

He could have helped keep the wound clean, but the human bodywalker wouldn’t let him inside the fixing room, said he had to wait.

He would have shredded the fool’s leg if the bodywalker hadn’t made Tobias wait outside the room too.

He started to call for his brother, then stopped, already knowing there would be no answer. And John? A Wolf with three legs couldn’t survive in the wild country, even with the pack’s help. He wasn’t sure John could survive in this human place either.

Something howled. A deep sound. Distant.

Virgil shuddered. Even shifters didn’t want to approach that form of Elder. But he wasn’t going to let that howl go unanswered because the wolverine had challenged the terrible one, had been the reason the Elders had attacked the enemy inside the town’s boundaries. If he didn’t answer now, Namid’s teeth and claws would come back down from the hills—and after all the humans were dead, all the terra indigene would go back to the wild country and leave this place to the carrion eaters.

All the humans, including his pack sister. That he would not allow.

“Arroo!” I am here. “Arroo!”

I am here. I am here. I am here.

Alone.

* * *

* * *

“Come on, darlin’. Time to wake up.” Tobias’s voice, warm and coaxing.

“Stupid female thinks she’s a big predator … small predator … puffed up with attitude.” Virgil. Still on a rant.

Jana tried to move. Big mistake. “Hurt,” she whispered.

“Of course you hurt!” Virgil said from somewhere she couldn’t see. “You. Got. Shot.”

Tobias looked toward the door. “Not helping, Virgil.”

Virgil just snarled.

Shot. Yes. She remembered. She’d been fading. Failing. Now? “How bad?”

“Well, Deputy, it was a little more than a flesh wound.” Tobias said the words lightly, but now that she could focus enough to see his face, she could tell the effort to keep it light was costing him, because it didn’t last. “You lost a lot of blood. But the doc patched you up and said the bullet didn’t hit anything vital. You’ll be in here for a day or two so that the doc can keep an eye on you, and then you’ll be on desk duty for a while once you go back to work.” He paused. “One thing about living around Intuits. Plenty of people showed up at the hospital, saying they had a feeling the doctors needed help and patients needed blood.”

Tobias reached for something on the bed tray positioned over her knees. “There might have been concerns about the blood that the hospital had stocked, but look what Fagen and his food salvage crew found to assist patients in their recovery.” He held up a container full of a green substance.

“No one raided the kitchens here and took the green gelatin?”

“Nope. The hospital has its full complement of the stuff.”

“Goody.” Light banter. An effort to say nothing important. “Barb?”

“Neither doc here is a surgeon, but they got the bullet out. Barb might have some trouble with that arm and shoulder, but the doc expects she’ll heal up fine otherwise.”

“Frontier surgery.”

“Wasn’t quite that bad. Modern facility—or as modern as a place like Bennett could afford to have—and plenty of people to help. She’ll