Sheryl Nantus - Battle Scars

“What else is new?” I replied.

Hank handed me a business card. “He’ll give you a discount if you mention me. Does a lot of work for the police.”

“Thanks. Do you know a good vet?” I lifted Jazz, still purring like an engine on overdrive. “I need her checked out.”

A familiar voice broke in. “I’ll take care of that.”

Jess walked in the open door, waving away the uniform on guard. “I know a local who’ll take good care of her. Family friend.”

Hank’s eyebrows rose. “You again.” There was a hint of a smile. He’d first met Jess here in my living room during the Hanover case and I knew he was curious as all get-out about her friendship with me.

“Me again.” Jess came to my side and spread her hands. “I was in the area and heard the ruckus on the police scanner. Thought I’d come by and see if you needed any help.”

Protecting the Pride, the underlying message said. Protecting my own.

I leveraged Jazz into her arms, the old cat not resisting. She licked Jess’s hand once before settling down in her arms, still purring.

“I’ll call Amy from the car, take her right over. She’s got a clinic not far from here.” Jess looked over at Bran. “I’ll see you both at the hospital.”

“St. Joe’s.” Hank offered, being helpful.

“We’re not—” That was as far as I got before withering under Jess’s lethal glare.

Hank nodded his approval. “Tumble down the stairs like that’s not good for anyone, much less someone who got bashed about not so long ago.”

“I agree. Get checked out. Both of you.” She watched McCallister being wheeled by. “I’ll meet you there to see how things are turning out.”

McCallister didn’t say anything and Jess didn’t offer. This was a clusterfuck of the first degree, a direct attack of Felis on Felis.

This was not going to end well for McCallister, paralysis or not.

“She sure did a job on his face. Damned impressive work.” Hank gestured toward the cat.

Jess chuckled and rocked the white cat gently. “She’s a fighter.”

Hank looked at me, his eyes searching mine. “She sure is.”

I cleared my throat before addressing Jess. “Thanks for the help.”

“I’ll be in touch.” Jess gave Hank a polite nod before retreating, the white cat still purring in her arms.

Hank let out a sigh. “You’ve got the most interesting friends, Reb.”

I smiled, feeling the first bruises start to rise on my skin. “Tell me about it.”

We rode in a separate ambulance than McCallister, Hank assuring me that he’d leave a uniform at the front door until we returned. The paramedics were impressed that Bran’d survived a tumble down the stairs with nothing more than what appeared to be a concussion, given McCallister’s injuries.

“Cushioned my fall,” Bran deadpanned as the emergency room doctor flashed a light into his eyes. “No regrets on my end. You come into our house and attack us, you take the consequences.”

The doctor hummed and continued his examination.

I paced the length of the hospital room, my mind spinning through various scenarios. Had Mary Chandler been behind this? Had she taken control back from Evan and now declared a feud with me, with Bran? Or had McCallister gone out on his own, upset that he’d been dethroned as an enforcer and following a private grudge against us.

I rubbed the tip of my nose. This was far beyond anything I could deal with. I hoped Jess would have some answers.

“Looks good.” The doctor scribbled on his clipboard. “Let me just get some paperwork done and we’ll get you two out of here and home in time for breakfast.” He gave me a sly wink. “I bet you’d rather be home in your own bed than hanging around here waiting for cold oatmeal.”

I nodded with as thankful a smile as I could muster, given the circumstances.

“Bastard,” Bran said seconds after the doctor left. “He would have killed us where we slept. Trash the house, make it look like druggies knifed us up looking for cash. With your neighborhood’s rep it’d get by the cops without too much noise.” He went to scratch his bandaged torso and stopped, holding himself back. “Maybe a rumbling or two, courtesy of Hank, but it’d go under as a cold case soon enough with the way they keep secrets.”

“They” being the Felis.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold in the shivering.

I was getting too old for this crap.

“Think Jazz is okay?” Bran asked.

I shrugged. “She’s a tough old broad. Hopefully she just got rattled by the entire thing.”

He chuckled. “Did a good job on his face. Wonder how many stitches he’ll need for that.”

I gestured at the thin scratches on his torso. “Not enough for doing that to you.”

We’d both accepted antiseptic ointment and bandages on our wounds.

Bran poked at them again, drawing his fingers over the itchy skin. “More love scars. At this rate I’m going to look like Frankenstein if we make it to old age.” He reached out and took my hand. “That wasn’t all Jazz’s claws on his face, if I recall correctly.” His fingertips traced my knuckles and he grinned. “You brought it, girl.”

“Damned unreliable.” I flexed my fingers, feeling the already-healing skin twitch with pain. “Damned freak.”

“Don’t say that.” Bran hopped off the examination table and pulled me into a hug. “Jazz might have started it but you finished it and saved us both. If you hadn’t clawed him he wouldn’t have stepped back and fallen.”

I tucked my head under his chin with a weary sigh. “I hope she’s okay.”

“She’s fine.” Jess said from the doorway.

Bran rolled his eyes. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” She strolled in. “Jazz is out in the car, safe and sound. Amy gave her a clean bill of health but says she should take it easy for a few days.”

I snorted as I pulled away from Bran. “Be lazier? That’s not going to be possible.”

Jess smiled. “Tough little kitty.” Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the fresh bandages through Bran’s half-open shirt. “McCallister do that?”

“Yep.” Bran fastened the buttons. “Told them McCallister scratched us with his fingernails, psycho attacker. Figure it’s as good as anything else to put on the report.”

“Well done.” Jess turned to me. “This is one hell of a mess.”

“Is Evan okay?” I asked.

“He’s fine. Pissed off to the max, but fine. Everyone’s pissed off.” Jess shook her head. “McCallister was acting on his own, so he says. Mary’s denying everything and there’s no way to prove she put him up to it.”

I thought about asking how Jess’d managed to talk to McCallister, considering he was supposedly under arrest and isolated from everyone.

I reconsidered when I heard the anger in her words. Jess had her ways with humans and Felis alike—she got what she wanted.

“What was ‘it,’ actually?” Bran asked.

“Kill you, kill Rebecca and then burn the house down to hide the trail. Straight-out revenge for Mary losing leadership of her family and his demotion.”

“Bad ass.” Bran let out a low whistle. “What happens now?”

“Prelim report says he’s got a broken back, possible paralysis. There’ll be discussions on farther medical treatment but I think he’s paid a pretty price up front for trying to take you both out.”

Bran shifted from one foot to the other. “Going to be a hard life for him. Wasn’t what I wanted to happen.”

Jess fixed her one good eye on him. “From what I understand he dragged you down the stairs after him, seconds after he tried to kill both of you in bed. I wouldn’t spare any tears for the bastard.”