"I don't wanna go steady or anything," I said, "but I want you to know that there's nothing wrong with you. You're good, Laila."
She shook her head, and moved her hand so she could hold my hand. The tears began to trickle down her face. "I'm not good. I'm going to lose my badge."
"I told you, they can't take it yet."
"But they will."
"Maybe," I said, "probably. I won't lie to you; if you keep your badge you'll be the first full lycanthrope to ever manage it, but right now you are a U.S. Marshal of the preternatural branch, and thanks to having lycanthropy you're healed, right?"
She nodded. "They kept me because they're trying to talk me into a government safe house where I won't be a danger to others."
"Bullshit on the safe houses. They're about to lose a Supreme Court decision this year, for unlawful detainment among other things. You're not a danger to others, Laila."
Her voice squeezed down, and she said, "I will be."
I shook her hand, made her look at me. "Yeah, for the first few months, or even the first couple of years near the full moon you'll need your pack to make sure you're in a safe place, but that's part of what they do for new members."
"My pack?"
"Your animal group. What flavor of wereanimal are you?" I asked.
"Flavor?" She blinked up at me, still crying.
"Kind of animal?"
"Wolf. I'm a werewolf." She said it like she didn't quite believe it yet.
"Then pack is the right word. Different animal groups have different words for the group."
"I know some of that from class," she said.
"Yeah, you'll have a step up because you've studied werewolves."
"Their crimes," she said, and started crying again.
Her brother patted her arm while he was still holding her hand. He looked at me as if to say, Do something. I was strangely used to large, athletic men looking to me to fix things.
I shook her hand again, and when she didn't look up, I said, "Laila, look at me." She still didn't. "Marshal Laila Karlton, look at me!" Maybe it was using the title, but she finally did what I wanted, and looked up at me with so much pain in her eyes, so much loss.
I had to swallow hard and realized there were tears underneath somewhere in me, too. There are always tears. "Do you want to catch the man who did this to you?"
She frowned, and then nodded.
I held her hand tight for another moment, then let go and gave her the stern look she needed. "Then get up, get dressed, get your gear, and let's go catch the bastard."
"I can't . . ."
"You were stabbed four times, but thanks to the lycanthropy you're well. Hospital beds are for sick people; you're not sick. Get the f**k up, get dressed, and help us catch the monster that tried to kill you."
She looked startled.
Mr. Karlton behind me said, "Language," as if it were automatic.
I didn't apologize, as earlier had been about him and Socrates, and now was about Laila and me. "Do you want to catch the guy that did this to you?"
"Yes," she said, her voice a little breathy.
"Then get up and let's do it."
She looked at me, startled almost, and then the ghost of a smile touched her face. "You mean it?"
"Hell yes, I mean it. Get dressed, we've got bad guys to catch."
She grinned at me, sudden and wonderful with the tears still wet on her cheeks. Robert caught my attention across the bed, still holding his sister's hand. He mouthed, Thank you.
Some days it's not about catching the bad guys. Some days it's about helping the good guys feel better. It had taken me a few years to realize that the second part of the job was every bit as important as the first.
Chapter Thirty-One
SOCRATES STAYED WITH Laila to explain to her and her family what it might mean for her to be a werewolf. I went to get her clean clothes from the motel. Nicky was at my back and we were within sight of the big outer doors when someone called, "Anita." I knew that voice.
"Damn it," I said under my breath, and turned around to see Olaf. He was striding toward me with Bernardo hurrying to catch up. There probably weren't many people that made six-foot-one Bernardo have to trot to keep up. The nurses watched Bernardo openly, admiring the view as he went past. They watched Olaf with sideways eye flicks, as if afraid to stare. Some of the looks were nervous - he was a very big guy - and some were the kind a woman gives an attractive man, just a little less bold than with Bernardo, as if even though they had no words for it, they sensed something different about Olaf. If they only knew his idea of sex, they'd have been running the other way, but like most serial killers he didn't look like a monster most of the time. He had that predator energy toned way down as he came toward us. He also had a bright blue wrist cast on his right arm. Fuck.
Nicky and Lisandro moved to either side of me, and a little ahead. It was to give us all room to maneuver and to put them first in line if it was a fight. They were my bodyguards in their day jobs, but hiding behind Edward was one thing; hiding behind anyone else might be enough to make Olaf put me in the girl box, and once he thought of me as just another girl who needed men to protect her, I would become just another potential victim in his eyes.
I did what I had to do: I stepped in front of them. Nicky didn't argue, just stepped back and let me lead. Domino hesitated, but with Nicky moved back, I was up even with him, so it was good enough. I wasn't cowering behind either of them.
But Lisandro saw what I'd done, and he gave me that extra step in front. He and Nicky were secure in their manhood; they'd let me stand in front, because neither of them had anything left to prove to anyone. I liked that about both of them.