A heated, burned smell rode the air. The grass was seared where hedge of thorns had burned through. If I dug down, I knew that I'd see burned soil as deep as six feet. My blood had triggered the ward; it had soaked into the grass and dirt all the way from the house to the boulders. I could smell it drying, already decaying. It was a lot of blood. I fingered my neck. The skin there was thin and raw, new flesh, not quite healed. The injury given me by Leo in his crazy Dolore state had been intended to kill me.
Nothing I said had been deserving of the attack, even accusing vamps of killing witch children. The Dolore had made him nutso.
He grieves his children, Beast thought at me. His son who was taken from him, and replaced by liver-eater. His daughter who he killed long ago.
"Oh," I said softly. "Oh . . ." I hadn't put his words together that way. "Okay. So it's what? Dolore times two and I'm a handy punching bag?" Beast didn't reply. I swallowed and the movement of muscles and tissues ached. I'd had difficulty shifting. It shouldn't have been so hard. My hand drifted down and found my necklace was gone. The gold nugget necklace that tied me to the boulders here in the yard and to the boulders where I first remembered how to shift, back in the mountains, a white quartz boulder lined through with the same gold that made up my necklace. It was the gold that made my shift easier. Without it, I'd be able to shift only when I had extensive time to meditate my way into the change. Or force it, painfully.
I gathered up the beads that had come from my hair with the previous shift, holding them cupped in my hand, and inspected my clothes. My T was ruined but the jeans had somehow survived the shift and the weight gain, pushed off me as I changed. I tossed them across my shoulder. Undies were ruined. Fuzzy socks okay. I tucked them under my arm. No gold nugget.
Surely the necklace had just been ripped off and left in the kitchen. Surely Leo hadn't taken it. A shiver that had nothing to do with the warm air on my skin gripped me. My stomach growled with the need for food. Shifting used up a lot of calories. I needed to eat.
This time I went into the house through the door. Inside, I dumped my clothes and turned on the lights to study the mess. I had bled like a stuck pig. It was all over the floor, furniture, walls. Blood smeared by fighting, sprayed by arterial pressure. It was going to be a pain in the neck--pun intended--to clean it all up. And the window was ruined, all that old hand-blown glass shattered out. So much for my plans to keep this place pristine.
I spotted the necklace under the kitchen table, the double chain wrapped around a chair leg as if it had been slung and the force of the throw had snapped the chain around and around. I peeled it free and checked the clasp, which was only a little bent. I straightened it and washed the necklace at the sink, putting it back round my neck before I did anything else.
While oatmeal cooked and a strong pot of tea brewed, I cleaned up the mess. The blood was tacky, already partly dried, but it came off the floor with hot water and a scrub brush. The dirty, bloody water went down the toilet with all the other blood from today. I sprayed the floor with Clorox cleanser and let it soak. I didn't want to leave any blood evidence should cops ever need to do a crime scene investigation in the house, but removing all traces was impossible without tearing up the floor.
While I ate, I debated shifting again, this time to a rap-tor so I could overfly the city, but I changed my mind. Instead, I dressed in my new vamp hunting clothes, wearing my second pair of new boots--lace-up butt stompers--and made sure I had all my weapons in place, especially my old chain-link collar to protect my neck. If I'd been wearing it, Leo wouldn't have injured me nearly so badly. I'd have had time to draw weapons on him. Leo might actually be dead. I touched the thin skin, like delicate silk, ridged where the flesh hadn't knit back smoothly. I wasn't going anywhere without full garb anytime soon.
I dialed the hospital, expecting the call to go to the nurses' desk, but it was put through to her room. Molly answered. Against all expectations, she was awake, though groggy. My heart leaped, and my traitorous eyes teared up with her hello.
"Molly?"
"Hey, Big Cat. You saved my life," Molly said, not sounding strong at all, but terribly weak and breathless. Tears thickened her voice as she broke down. "My babies . . ."
"I'll save your babies," I said, helplessness like a heavy weight pressing on my shoulders. "Evan and Evangelina are on the way. I called them. They can help you heal. And then you all can help me with the search."
"Evangelina's gonna come in and take over." She laughed through the tears, the sound forlorn. "Don't let her bully you."
"I won't," I lied. Evangelina was a take-charge kinda woman. Even Beast was scared of her.
"Do . . . do you think they're still alive? Do you think someone is hurting them?"
Her voice broke on the question and my breath stopped. When I could speak I said, "Yes. No. I mean, I think they're alive and being well cared for right now." I had to believe it. Had to.
Then Molly said, "Whatever they've been stolen for, the rite will probably take place on or near the full moon." She was trying to think like the kidnappers. God help her. But she was right. Any magic performed during a full moon would be highly amplified. And a full moon was soon. Very soon.