began to protest at the same moment, but then Jason shrugged. “Go ahead, Sook,” he said. There was obviously no budging Dawson, and there was no point toupsetting a wounded man, for that matter. I pushed the heavy door wide open.
Calvin was by himself, though there was another bed in the room. The panther leader looked awful. He was pale and drawn. His hair was dirty, though his cheeks above his trim beard had been shaved. He was wearing a hospital gown, and he was hooked up to lots of things.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurted. I was horrified. Though many brains had indicated as much, I could see that if Calvin hadn’t been two-natured, the wound would have killed him instantly. Whoever had shot him had wanted his death.
Calvin turned his head to me, slowly and with effort. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said dryly, his voice a thread. “They’re going to take me off some of this stuff tomorrow.”
“Where were you hit?” I asked.
Calvin moved one hand to touch his upper left chest. His golden brown eyes captured mine. I went closer to him and covered his hand with mine. “I’m so sorry,” I said again. His fingers curled under mine until he was holding my hand.
“There’ve been others,” he said in a whisper of a voice.
“Yes.”
“Your boss.”
I nodded.
“That poor girl.”
I nodded again.
“Whoever’s doing this, they’ve got to be stopped.”
“Yes.”
“It’s got to be someone who hates shifters. The police will never find out who’s doing this. We can’t tell them what to look for.”
Well, that was part of the problem of keeping your condition a secret. “It’ll be harder for them to find the person,” I conceded. “But maybe they will.”
“Some of my people wonder if the shooter is someonewho’s a shifter,” Calvin said. His fingers tightened around mine. “Someone who didn’t want to become a shifter in the first place. Someone who was bitten.”
It took a second for the light to click on in my head. I am such an idiot.
“Oh, no, Calvin, no, no,” I said, my words stumbling over each other in my haste. “Oh, Calvin, please don’t let them go after Jason. Please, he’s all I’ve got.” Tears began to run down my cheeks as if someone had turned on a faucet in my head. “He was telling me how much he enjoyed being one of you, even if he couldn’t be exactly like a born panther. He’s so new, he hasn’t had time to figure out who all else is two-natured. I don’t think he even realized Sam and Heather were. . . .”
“No one’s gonna take him out until we know the truth,” Calvin said. “Though I might be in this bed, I’m still the leader.” But I could tell he’d had to argue against it, and I also knew (from hearing it right out of Calvin’s brain) that some of the panthers were still in favor of executing Jason. Calvin couldn’t prevent that. He might be angry afterward, but if Jason were dead, that wouldn’t make one little bit of difference. Calvin’s fingers released mine, and his hand rose with an effort to wipe the tears off my cheek.
“You’re a sweet woman,” he said. “I wish you could love me.”
“I wish I could, too,” I said. So many of my problems would be solved if I loved Calvin Norris. I’d move out to Hotshot, become a member of the secretive little community. Two or three nights a month, I’d have to be sure to stay inside, but other than that, I’d be safe. Not only would Calvin defend me to the death, but so would the other members of the Hotshot clan.
But the thought of it just made me shudder. The windswept open fields, the powerful and ancient crossroadsaround which the little houses clustered . . . I didn’t think I could handle the perpetual isolation from the rest of the world. My Gran would have urged me to accept Calvin’s offer. He was a steady man, was a shift leader at Norcross, a job that came with good benefits. You might think that’s laughable, but wait until you have to pay
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