Read Online Moonshifted by Cassie Alexander - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cassie Alexander
Ads: Link
was done texting, he looked up at me, eyes narrowed. “The longer you lie, the more there’ll be hell to pay.”
Awesome. Just awesome. I inhaled and exhaled, taking the part of myself that might have felt outrage and stuffing it into a separate mental box. He was entitled to his anger, just like we had every right to be cautious. “I’m sorry, sir. You’ll need to come back tomorrow, when the social worker’s here—”
“I cannot believe you’re keeping us from him.” He came nearer, looming. I pushed my chair back. Being right wasn’t always a guarantee that you wouldn’t get hit. Behind him, a man and a woman, clinging to each other, rounded the bend.
“Jorgen. Stop that at once,” the woman commanded, and he stepped back. I reached forward, grabbed everything off the desk, and set it into my lap. Then I pushed back again, out of swinging range.
The woman was older, blond going gray, wearing a navy pantsuit. Her arms were wrapped around the younger man, like he was supporting her. She looked around and moaned.
“Oh, he’s here, Jorgen—just as I was afraid of.” She reached out to the bald man, and he held an arm out toward her. Like a swinging monkey changing vines, she switched the men she leaned on, coming closer to me. “How is he? Is he okay? What do we know?”
“Nothing,” Jorgen spat at me. “She won’t even admit his presence. Despite the fact that I can smell him here.”
The younger man took a step forward. He was my age, wearing casual clothing: jeans, an army-green hoodie.
“What can you tell us?” he asked.
“Nothing.” There wasn’t much protecting me just now. Meaty was around the corner, Gina was still inside, and the Shadows weren’t known for being timely unless it suited them. I held all of Winter’s charting to my chest. “I’m sorry. I can’t say a word.”
As if she had no spine, the woman slid down from Jorgen to bring her eyes level with mine. “You have to save him. You have to do everything you can.” Her eyes were icy blue, rimmed with the red of tears, and she put her hand on my gowned knee. Her fingers knotted with restrained strength. “Everything. Just give him till the moon,” she pleaded.
The young man put his hand on her shoulder, until she stood up. “Jorgen, Helen—let’s go.”
“But she knows things—” Jorgen protested.
“I’m sure she does. But we’re stopping her from doing her job. If he is here, we don’t want that.” He cast a glance down at me, wrapping his arms protectively around the weeping woman. “Keep him safe—and alive.”
All that was in me wanted to nod, or comfort them, but I couldn’t. Officially, he wasn’t here—and beyond that, only foolish nurses promised things they couldn’t guarantee. I wasn’t a were-vet, I had no ideas about his outcome—more good reasons why Gina was the one on the inside, not me.
Jorgen eyed the whole hallway with dismissal, then looked again at me. “We’ll be back,” he said. And then he howled. His form was human, so the howl was misshapen, a rough imitation of a howl. Helen seemed startled at this, and the young man surprised. Then they joined in, their howls more wolf-sounding, hers an alto, his a tenor, sliding together up and down an otherworldly scale. I’d never seen humans make those noises before—and remembered a camping trip from a long time ago, with my family, my brother, and me sitting around a fire, mocking wolves from afar, trying to join into their distant choir.
The wolves here closed their eyes as they howled, like they were praying, sincere. The howls reverberated up and down the short hallway after they stopped, their own echoes answering them.
When they were done, Jorgen hung his head. “He would have answered, if he could.”
Helen sobbed, and the young man pulled her closer. Conjoined in their sorrow, they walked back up the hall.
I waited thirty seconds, then knocked on the closed door. “Gina, get back out here.”
The monitor
Awesome. Just awesome. I inhaled and exhaled, taking the part of myself that might have felt outrage and stuffing it into a separate mental box. He was entitled to his anger, just like we had every right to be cautious. “I’m sorry, sir. You’ll need to come back tomorrow, when the social worker’s here—”
“I cannot believe you’re keeping us from him.” He came nearer, looming. I pushed my chair back. Being right wasn’t always a guarantee that you wouldn’t get hit. Behind him, a man and a woman, clinging to each other, rounded the bend.
“Jorgen. Stop that at once,” the woman commanded, and he stepped back. I reached forward, grabbed everything off the desk, and set it into my lap. Then I pushed back again, out of swinging range.
The woman was older, blond going gray, wearing a navy pantsuit. Her arms were wrapped around the younger man, like he was supporting her. She looked around and moaned.
“Oh, he’s here, Jorgen—just as I was afraid of.” She reached out to the bald man, and he held an arm out toward her. Like a swinging monkey changing vines, she switched the men she leaned on, coming closer to me. “How is he? Is he okay? What do we know?”
“Nothing,” Jorgen spat at me. “She won’t even admit his presence. Despite the fact that I can smell him here.”
The younger man took a step forward. He was my age, wearing casual clothing: jeans, an army-green hoodie.
“What can you tell us?” he asked.
“Nothing.” There wasn’t much protecting me just now. Meaty was around the corner, Gina was still inside, and the Shadows weren’t known for being timely unless it suited them. I held all of Winter’s charting to my chest. “I’m sorry. I can’t say a word.”
As if she had no spine, the woman slid down from Jorgen to bring her eyes level with mine. “You have to save him. You have to do everything you can.” Her eyes were icy blue, rimmed with the red of tears, and she put her hand on my gowned knee. Her fingers knotted with restrained strength. “Everything. Just give him till the moon,” she pleaded.
The young man put his hand on her shoulder, until she stood up. “Jorgen, Helen—let’s go.”
“But she knows things—” Jorgen protested.
“I’m sure she does. But we’re stopping her from doing her job. If he is here, we don’t want that.” He cast a glance down at me, wrapping his arms protectively around the weeping woman. “Keep him safe—and alive.”
All that was in me wanted to nod, or comfort them, but I couldn’t. Officially, he wasn’t here—and beyond that, only foolish nurses promised things they couldn’t guarantee. I wasn’t a were-vet, I had no ideas about his outcome—more good reasons why Gina was the one on the inside, not me.
Jorgen eyed the whole hallway with dismissal, then looked again at me. “We’ll be back,” he said. And then he howled. His form was human, so the howl was misshapen, a rough imitation of a howl. Helen seemed startled at this, and the young man surprised. Then they joined in, their howls more wolf-sounding, hers an alto, his a tenor, sliding together up and down an otherworldly scale. I’d never seen humans make those noises before—and remembered a camping trip from a long time ago, with my family, my brother, and me sitting around a fire, mocking wolves from afar, trying to join into their distant choir.
The wolves here closed their eyes as they howled, like they were praying, sincere. The howls reverberated up and down the short hallway after they stopped, their own echoes answering them.
When they were done, Jorgen hung his head. “He would have answered, if he could.”
Helen sobbed, and the young man pulled her closer. Conjoined in their sorrow, they walked back up the hall.
I waited thirty seconds, then knocked on the closed door. “Gina, get back out here.”
The monitor
Similar Books
