Chapter 9 - Vera

Mud caked her fur, up her legs, and through the ruff around her neck. She could taste it, grains of dirt sticking to her tongue when it lolled out and getting caught between her fangs. The rain had stuck around for days. Now, the skies were cloudy but dry, and Vera needed to get out of the house.

There was too much on her mind lately, after Rami’s confession. In some ways, it made her feel better if she believed he was being honest and not just trying to soften the blow. At least it hadn’t been her fault after all. In other ways, it was even more frustrating knowing that there hadn’t been anything she could’ve done to fix it. The problem was all in his head.

He’d never realize it. Perfect childhoods, perfect marriages, perfect relationships? None of those existed. Even if his parents had an awful, contentious marriage, it didn't guarantee the same for him. Stubborn, foolish man.

Vera dug in and put on a burst of speed. Moira worked to keep up, panting beside her, falling back a little when Vera stretched her legs. Running until they burned made the thoughts in her brain feel more distant.

They were out searching the border of the cabin she and the others had discovered, staying far enough away that the scent wouldn’t reel them in. Footprints, human footprints, dotted the ground around the cabin. They were easy to follow in the fresh mud, even when the scent was buried in the cabin’s wafting smell.

Rami was at home with Jessa. He’d hung the schedule he’d made, the avoiding-Vera-schedule as she’d dubbed it, back up in the kitchen. At least this time, he’d used a ruler and made a proper straight-lined version so that her eye didn't twitch each time she looked at it. She still hated it.

“Vera!” Moira’s mental call broke through Vera’s introspection, and she got the feeling that it wasn’t the first time she’d said her name. “There’s something up there. Slow down!”

Vera dropped down to a lope, letting Moira catch up. She peered through the underbrush.

“What is it?”

“I think it’s a person.”

There. She spotted them. Someone was lying at the base of an old spruce in a carpet of its needles. Vera scented the air, searching for the person’s smell through the layers of other scents.

“It’s a shifter,” she sent to Moira, catching the unique dual scent of best and human from the man. “ He looks hurt.”

“ Maybe we should call for help before we go in there,” Moira slowed to a walk, shoulders hunched and wary. “ This close to the cabin, it might be a trap.”

“ He’s hurt,” Vera repeated, loping up to the man.

She could spot that from twenty paces away, even if she couldn’t yet see exactly what was wrong with him. There was no blood in his tracks, nothing to indicate a severe injury, but the man was crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut, a boneless heap at the tree’s base.

Moira stayed back as Vera neared the man, searching the surrounding area for an ambush. And maybe it was a trap, and Vera was being foolhardy, but she couldn’t ignore an animal in distress.

He didn’t stir, even when she stopped before him and reached her nose toward him warily. His face was half-hidden against his shoulder. He was young, maybe early to mid-twenties, with close-cropped hair and a strong jaw, in the kind of shape that said he spent a lot of time in the gym.

“I’m going to examine him,” she warned Moira before shifting, letting the wolf form melt away.

Her shape animal senses were replaced by duller human ones, but she needed her hands for a proper examination. She watched his chest rise and fall, steady and strong. His eyelids fluttered.

“Hello? I’m Vera. I’m here to help you. Are you okay? Are you injured?” She spoke like she would to any wounded animal, talking more to soothe than to elicit a response.

To her surprise, he stared. Heavy eyelids flickered open, revealing moss-green eyes with huge, blown pupils. He struggled to focus on her. His gaze drifted over her shoulder and back again.

“Where…” he stammered, “Where am I?”

“We’re in a forest outside of Silversands. Do you know where that is? How did you get here?” She wanted to keep him alert and talking.

Head injury, probably. Or some kind of intoxication. His speech was slurred and his eyes kept shutting, snapping open again with a jolt, like he couldn’t control himself.

“Are you injured somewhere I can’t see?” She asked, reaching out to grip his shoulder.

This time, he didn’t stir. He’d fallen back into the deep slumber she’d found him in. Vera sat back on her heels and took in his disheveled state, the filth of his clothes and the scratches over his arms and cheeks.

“If he’s a shifter, why does it look like he’s been walking in the woods for weeks as a human? It’d make more sense for him to travel as a wolf.” Vera mumbled to herself, cupping her chin in her hands.

Moira, having finally accepted that the injured man was not a trap or an ambush, shifted. “He hasn’t been eating well either. For all that muscle, he looks emaciated. Why didn’t he at least shift to hunt?”

Suspicion was growing in the pit of Vera’s stomach, but she wasn’t ready to voice it aloud. If she did, Moira might try to stop her from taking the man home where she could care for him. She could think of one reason the man might not risk shifting into wolf form—the curse. If he had it, shifting might mean he could never shift back into human form again.

“We have to get him home where I can examine him properly. Will you help me carry him back?”

Moira hesitated. “I guess so. I’m not sure this is a good idea, but—“

“We can’t just leave him, Moira,” Vera snapped and started gathering pine boughs for a makeshift sled. He was too big for them to carry back; they’d have to drag him.

Working together, they rigged up a sled of branches and pine boughs and carefully lifted the man onto it. He didn’t stir. That worried Vera more than anything. It was an unnaturally deep sleep, the kind that bordered on unconsciousness.

Vera grabbed the handles and started the trudge back toward home, careful to avoid any rocks or roots that might jostle him. For the first time in weeks, she felt alive. Someone needed her. Needed her expertise.

It was hard to hide her slight giddiness at that, the smile tugging up the corners of her mouth while she considered possible treatments. All she had at home was her basic veterinary kit, which would limit her diagnostic options, but she could work with that.

“Try not to look so pleased with the situation.” Moira shook her head. “There’s a sick man behind you.”

Vera shrugged, sweat dripping down her brow. Emaciated or not, the man was heavy. “I can’t help it. I love a mystery case. The more obscure, the better.”

“Trust me, I remember.” Moira nudged her aside and took over, pulling the sled. “Remember all those emergency vet shows you’d watch when we were little? They’re cutting open a cat and your face is lit up while I’m trying not to gag. If you didn’t turn out to be a vet, I would’ve been seriously concerned about you. Actually, I kind of still am.”

The blood and guts had never bothered Vera. Bodies fascinated her, and nothing was as satisfying as taking an animal from injured or sick to thriving again.

“Well, I don’t have a chance to do this much anymore.” Vera wiped the sweat off of her forehead. “Now I’m just a nanny.”

Moira bit her tongue. Vera could see she was holding back her thoughts on that particular subject. They spent the rest of the walk in silence until they could finally see the shape of the cars through the trees.

“Help me get him in the back,” she said, swinging open the car door. “I’ll take him home, and you can let the others know what we found.”

Moira grabbed the man’s legs, and Vera lifted his shoulders. With a lot of grunting and swearing, they maneuvered his bulk into the backseat, lying flat across it. They buckled him in as best they could.

“Be careful. If he wakes up and tries to grab you or something—“

“I’ll bludgeon him, don’t worry.” Vera hugged Moira goodbye and hopped into the front seat, taking off for Rami’s house.

She pulled into the drive and found Rami and Jessa in the front yard, like they’d just returned from a walk. Even the medical mystery in the backseat faded when she looked at him, and her traitorous little heart beat faster. How dare he look so good after the breakup?

“Can you give me a hand?” She jumped out of the car and waved at the backseat. “We found someone on our patrol, and they need help.”

Rami frowned, walking over to the car and shifting Jessa onto his shoulder. “A shifter?”

Vera nodded and unbuckled the seatbelts. “Moira and I were able to lift him in, but it wasn’t pretty. Maybe we can put Jessa in her carrier and get him together into the house.”

“I’ve got it.” He handed Jessa over to Vera and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the thick muscles of his forearms. Unfair. She was a sucker for those forearms, especially the way they flexed when he worked.

“He’s heavy,” she warned, nuzzling her cheek against Jessa’s. She’d missed her. The little girl smiled up at Vera.

But Rami knelt and pulled the stranger onto his shoulder, lifting him with ease. “I’ve got it. Can you get the door?”

Vera ran ahead and opened the front door, following Rami into the living room. He laid the man down on the couch and stepped back, looping his thumb through his belt loops. Concern pinched his brow together.

“Is he okay? He didn’t even move when I picked him up. I don’t even see anything wrong with him.”

Here’s where she had to tread carefully. “I’m not sure what’s wrong. He woke up for a minute in the forest, but he was really out of it. Maybe he ate something he shouldn’t have or got a blow to the head. I need to examine him.”

He glanced at her, gaze heavy with the things unsaid. Understanding passed between them. After a moment, he nodded. “What can I do?”

She blew out a sigh of relief. “I need my kit from my room, and I need you to make sure none of the other wolves come in here until I’ve had a good look at him. You know if Spencer gets spun up about it, he’ll want to barge in and take over.”

“I’m on it,” he said, running up the stairs to get her bag.

Vera took a moment to hug Jessa close. “I’ll protect you, baby girl. Whatever this is? I’ll take care of it before you ever have to worry about it.”

She was grateful for Rami’s trust in her, the way he’d accepted what she had to do without question. It reminded her of all the ways they’d worked so well. Until he'd smashed it all up.

By the time he came back down with her leather bag, she’d schooled her face into a mask of calm.

“Here, I’ll take Jessa and make a few calls. Let me know if you need anything else.” He took Jessa from her arms, their fingers brushing.

Even that light touch sent a jolt through her body. It yearned for her mate. Yearned for more than just accidental brushes. Vera forced the thought from her mind and yanked her hair back into a tight ponytail, out of her face.

Rami stepped into the kitchen to dial Jonah, his voice fading into the background. Vera began her exam, inspecting the stranger from head to toe. She was a veterinarian, not a doctor, but it would have to do.

He slept through her exam even when she peeled his eyes open to inspect them, finding them glassy, pupils still blown.

“Can you help me turn him?” Vera asked.

Rami came back in, Jessa asleep in his arms now. She held the girl while he flipped the man over, then passed the still-sleeping child back to him.

“I let Jonah know, and he’s going to try to intercept Spencer. Are you sure this is a good idea? If it’s the curse, having him here might be a risk.” He spoke softly, not wanting to wake up the baby.

“I need to help him. Who else would? I can’t just bring him to a regular hospital. If this is the curse we’re dealing with, I doubt it’s spread by contact. But you’re right, there’s still a risk, and I don’t know any more than you do. Do you want me to move him somewhere else?”

He looked down at Jessa in his arms, then back at Vera. “I trust you. You wouldn’t put her in danger; you’re the smartest person I know. He’s in good hands. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you putting yourself at risk to help someone else. I’m sure he’s great and all but you’re you.”

Her eyebrows went up at that, and Rami turned away, embarrassed. He couldn’t take back what he’d said, though, and Vera went back to work on the stranger with a tiny blossom of joy in her chest, repeating his words over and over.

She examined the man’s head and found it free of lumps or swelling, anything indicating a blow to the head. Moving down, her fingers stopped when they reached his neck. Inky black vines spread like veins over the man’s skin.

“Rami?” She called him back in.

He’d put Jessa down for her nap, and this time, he came in holding two steaming mugs of coffee. “For you. Have a feeling we’ll be up late tonight.”

“I think you’re right. Take a look at this.” She stepped back so he could see the strange pattern on the stranger’s neck. “It’s not a tattoo like I thought at first.”

“Is it some kind of poison? A blood infection? I have no idea what I’m saying; it’s just stuff I’ve heard of from books.”

“Nothing I’ve ever heard of,” she said. But the sight of it filled her with that same unnerving sensation she’d felt around the cabin.

Doubt tore through her. Was she over her head with this, and putting the people she cared about at risk? Without thinking, she leaned against Rami, seeking the reassurance his warm body always provided. She felt him stiffen, and then he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

“We’ll be okay,” he promised, his lips against the top of her head.

In his arms, she could almost believe it.