The scalpel revealed a tarnished point. I dug a little deeper, trying to get the scalpel under it, and I could see more of the fragment. I attempted to lift the fragment with the blade, but it wouldn’t come. Some jagged part was caught in the flesh. As gently as I could, I cut a little more. It still wouldn’t come; I’d have to grip it somehow. Holding back the flesh with the scalpel, I reached in with my thumb and finger. Unsanitary, but werewolves aren’t vulnerable to many infections. Right now, a few bacteria were the least of Kane’s worries.
Blood smeared my fingers, making them slippery, but I got the edge of the fragment between my fingernails. When I had a good grip on it, I pulled gently. Kane shuddered as I drew the silver through his flesh. Slowly, carefully. And then it was out: an inch-long, twisted piece of blackened, bloody silver.
As soon as the silver left his body, Kane gasped. His back arched. His eyes opened, and then immediately squinched in pain. The half-man, half-wolf writhed on the floor, his limbs twisting. An energy field built around him.
I scrambled backward, out of reach of the blast of energy that would come at the moment of change.
Which way would he shift? I couldn’t tell. Fur grew, then receded. His arms shrank to forelegs, while his legs stayed human. His skull shifted so fast, to so many different forms, I couldn’t tell what shape it was taking.
The energy blasted out. I closed my eyes and shielded my face with my arms. Energy flared and pulsed for a long time—so long I was afraid it would burn him up, consume him entirely so that there’d be nothing left, man or wolf.
Finally it subsided. A naked man lay on the floor, bloody and silver-burned and absolutely beautiful. Kane was back.
He sat up, and I tackled him in a hug. His strong arms encircled me, and I covered his face with kisses. His human face. Everything about him—his skin, his features, his limbs—was a miracle. I looked into his gray eyes. They were the same eyes I’d searched for some sign that Kane would come back to me. Man or wolf, Kane had always been in those eyes.
He pulled me to him. His lips found mine. His tongue was in my mouth, hungry, frantic, hot. He pulled back and held my face in both his hands.
“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?” His voice, rough and husky with disuse, sent a thrill through me.
Somewhere behind us, Juliet cleared her throat. “Um, pardon me for interrupting,” she said, “but do either of you hear anything?”
Kane turned toward the hidden entrance and listened. “There are people out in the tunnel,” he said. “Probably cops, but I don’t think we should wait around to find out.” He pulled the sheet from the table where Pryce had lain and wrapped it around himself. “Come on, there’s a back way out. I chased some Old Ones through it.” He took my hand and we ran toward the back of the room.
I carried the Sword of Saint Michael before me like a torch, partly for light and partly to keep back any Old Ones or vampires who might be hanging around. Kane walked beside me, holding my hand. Juliet followed, and I kept turning around to make sure nothing had snatched her away. Shouts of “Police!” erupted behind us as we quietly moved deeper through tunnels and turnings. No one leapt out at us; no one came after us.
Kane’s hand was warm in mine. As we walked side by side, my flame held aloft, his broad chest gleaming in its light, I felt like we were the first explorers of some ancient world.
After a while, the three of us emerged onto a deserted platform at South Station. The station clock read 4:47 in the morning. It felt like I’d left Deadtown a century ago.
“Juliet,” I said, removing the bloodstone from my neck. “Take this to Mab. She needs it as soon as you can get it there.” I hoped we weren’t too late. I didn’t know how Viviane had appeared in the bloodstone’s glow, but I was worried about what her appearance had cost Mab.
Juliet took the pendant. I also gave her the Sword of Saint Michael to take home for me. “‘Your bidding shall I do effectually.’” It was good to hear her spout Shakespeare. She made an elaborate stage bow, and then she was gone. Damn, I wished I could move that fast. I’d be at Mab’s side now.
Kane caught me in his arms. His skin was warm despite the early-morning chill. I ran my hands over his back, feeling its muscles, amazed at the smoothness of it. Amazed to have him with me again.
But time was short. We couldn’t be here embracing on the platform when the first train pulled in. Hard as it was, I stepped away.
“I have to get back to Mab,” I said. “I need to know she’s all right.”
Kane traced one finger along my cheek. Desire lit his eyes and reached out to me, but he nodded. “How are you going to get there?”
“The only way I can think of. I’m going to shift into a bird.”
“Are you sure you’ll know to fly to Deadtown?”
“I think so. The moon isn’t strong right now. I’ll hold the idea of going home in my mind and hope it leads me there.” I touched his arm. “Will you be all right?”
He nodded. “I’ll hide out in my office for a few days. I practically live there, anyway. I’ve got a change of clothes, food, coffee.” Kane’s staff was all paranormal, so no one would be coming in to work for another day. “Once the containment order is lifted, I’ll call Carlos and have him bring my impersonator back from D.C.”
We walked outside, our arms around each other. On the sidewalk, we kissed. Then Kane turned toward Government Center. He kept close to the buildings, out of sight of any passing cars, but the streets were quiet. Soon, he melted into the shadows, and I couldn’t see him anymore.
I walked out Summer Street, toward the water. The sky was beginning to brighten in the east, and somewhere birds were singing. I stood and listened. I pulled their song into me, letting the notes fill me with lightness. I imagined stretching out my wings, letting the air hold me up, the currents carry me over the city, toward home. It was time to go home. Then energy blasted out, and all I knew was that I was flying, soaring over the water, happy it was spring.
33
I CAME BACK TO MYSELF ON THE ROOF OF A BUILDING. The sun warmed my back and my first thought was, “Maria was right. Flying dreams are the best.”
My next thought was of Mab. Had Juliet returned the bloodstone to her? Was she all right? Could I get to her?
I got up and went to the edge of the roof to see where I was. Deadtown lay below me. It was daytime, so the streets weren’t as crowded as at night, but the curfew seemed to make people want to get out while they could. Bundled-up zombies trundled along in twos and threes, an occasional werewolf or other paranormal threading their way through them. I recognized the street below—mine. In fact, I was on the roof of my own building. I’d made it home. I stepped back from the edge before someone looked up and pointed out the naked woman on the roof.
Naked. That presented a problem. I wasn’t used to streaking through the halls of my building, and I’d prefer not to bump into any neighbors au naturel. I glanced around the roof. I’d never been up here before. If I was lucky, maybe somebody had set up a clothesline to give their laundry that fresh-air smell. I didn’t see anything like that, but I did see a red, blue, and yellow beach umbrella. Odd. I went over to investigate.
Under the colorful umbrella sat a beach chair, a cooler, and a half-full wading pool. On top of the chair was a neatly folded pile of clothes: knee socks, long pants, a long-sleeved turtleneck, gloves, scarf, ski mask, and wide-brimmed hat. Zombies are oblivious to temperature, but the spring sunshine had obviously made someone yearn for the beach. Sunbathing, zombiestyle. Only in Deadtown.
I pulled on the pants and shirt. I’d return them later, but now I needed to get to Mab.