Laura recoiled. “Does the cat have to be in here?”
Jessie stared at her. “Why? Don’t you like cats?”
Laura’s gaze seemed frozen on her. “No. They creep me out.”
Creeped her out? Not an animal person, obviously. Jessie struggled to hide her annoyance. She picked up the cat, scritched her neck, and placed her outside the door.
Laura had already moved on, putting her bag down on the other cot. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.” She glanced at Jessie. “To us.” She put her bag on a cot. “Do you really think we are going to change into one of those things?”
Jessie nodded. “Yeah, I actually do.”
Laura sat beside her bag. “I’ve been so restless. I can’t stay still for more than a few minutes at a time. That woman—Cara—said it was because I was bitten? That and the dreams—the same guy’s in all of them. Big. Dark hair. And a scar.”
Jessie stared at her. Had Laura never met Braden? “You’ve never seen him before?”
Laura’s eyes flashed to hers, then they shuttered and she shook her head. “No.”
Jessie’s instincts went on high alert. The glance had been cagey. But why would Laura lie about meeting Braden? “He was one of the guys who grabbed us. And the one who bit us.”
The blonde woman stared at her. “Cara said I was bitten. But the police think it was some gadget that the guys used on us.”
“You don’t remember when it happened?”
Laura shook her head. “I was in that room for a while. And then one morning, I woke up with my shoulder mangled. I had a nightmare about being chased by a wolf, but I don’t remember what happened to my shoulder.”
Jessie found that interesting. Laura must have been taken before the full moon, then. Had Braden drugged her for the actual bite? Didn’t seem like his style. The scarred Dire had enjoyed his interactions with Jessie. Far too much. She didn’t want to think about Braden. Because her times with him had been, at best, confusing as hell. And at worst...
But she sensed the other woman wasn’t being entirely truthful. Or had Laura blanked out the entire experience? That was possible. After all, Jessie had managed to convince herself it was a man in a costume. For a while, anyway.
From the moment she’d left Cara’s protected lair, the antsy feeling had returned again. Braden was trying to make her go to him. Or rather, his cursed virus was. If she walked one way, they’d abate. Another, they’d get so bad she’d start scratching at her arms.
It was getting worse. And that wasn’t all. She’d begun to subconsciously look for him. She found herself searching the shadows for the tall, dark form. And that was during the day, when she could talk herself out of listening to the urges.
Jessie wasn’t looking forward to falling asleep.
Because he would be waiting for her—in her dreams.
21
By the time the sun had dropped in the sky, everyone had a bed, a belly full of supper, and a shower. Although the last few choosing that route had to settle for a bracing blast of cold water.
Zach had only tried out his new Jessie-inspired vocabulary once. Not bad, he figured. Considering.
After supper, the Weres on patrol traded places. Three came in, and three of them took on their animal form and went out. They would be taking shifts, day and night, until this was over.
Cara sent Jessie and Zach out to the front porch. Zach lifted Buffy out of the old deck chair and sat down with her in his lap. The cat purred and closed her blue eyes as his fingers found the right spot beneath her chin.
“She likes that,” Jessie noted. “What did you name her?”
“Cara named her Buffy.”
Jessie absorbed that as she sat down on the swinging seat, and Spike lay stretched out on the lawn. “She told me your dog was named Spike?”
Zach grinned at her. “You’re faster than me. She named him too. The donkey is Willow. I didn’t see it until she named the cat.”
Jessie laughed. “Yeah, I liked that show too. No Angel, though?”
“No. But give her time. She seems to feel I need the company.”
