Page 59 of The Healer and the Wolf: Part One

“What could you even do? You’re only one person.”

“I can do the same I did for you,” I snapped. “Go! It’ll work better for all of us if we escape piecemeal.”

Thankfully, she didn’t argue with me again. I allowed myself to watch them for only a couple of seconds before rushing to the nearest garden, where more employees might be.

For the next hour or so, I ran, hid, found people, and tried to get them to safety. Sometimes it was a frantic, slapdash run toward the compost piles and the salvation beyond them. Sometimes it was a painfully slow crawl behind all sorts of cover. No matter where I was, I could hear more sounds of battle. More bullets. More roars, howls, and shrieks.

In some way, it comforted me. As long as the sounds of battle persisted, Leo was alive. But in another, it completely chilled me right down to my bones. Because every sound I heard—every pop, every scream—meant someone was dying, and painfully so.

I took comfort in the thought that most of the people in Leo’s path were bad men, who reveled in violence and had no problem swearing their loyalty to such an evil man so corrupted. But also, how many of them were simply doing a job like I was? How many of them had gotten caught up in one of Chadwicke’s schemes or were trying to protect their families from his wrath? In life, things weren’t as simple as bad guys and good guys, at least not with so many of us being slaves to our paychecks.

Eventually, I got all the staff I could from the gardens. That left the indoor staff, who likely had no idea what was going on, and the party guests. I should probably wash my hands of it and get to safety before I got hurt, but then that image of Rosette played in my head again. I had to do more. I needed to make up for every ounce of hurt that Leo caused. So, I did the stupid thing and ran toward the mansion.

Either Leo had caused so much chaos that no one was thinking about looking for an ally of his, or they had no idea he wasn’t working alone. Either way, I used that and my uniform to my advantage, and slipped in through the back servants’ entrance. I found a huge group of cooks and serving staff in the kitchen, armed with pots pans or knives as they hid behind anything that might block the gunfire. I thought they were very brave for trying to be quiet and using anything to defend themselves.

“Is it the feds?” the closest person asked. How often did something like this happened that it was the first question people asked? Considering Chadwicke’s mile-long rap sheet, maybe it happened a lot. Maybe even to this very same staff. Ugh.

“Is it the cartel?”

“Is it that oil baron he pissed off?”

“Never mind any of that,” I said quickly. “It’ll be safer for all of you if we can get you down into the wine cellar. Whoever is attacking won’t want to go down there. It’ll be way too far out of their way.” A few looked doubtful, and I tried my best to sound authoritative. “Look, whoever is attacking clearly has a personal vendetta against Chadwicke.” I purposely did not mention that he was dead. “For now, they’re only attacking him and his security. It seems the rest of us are safe as long as we stay out of the way, because they won’t hesitate to shoot through any of us if it means hitting one of their targets. Now, I got all of the groundskeeping staff to safety. Are you gonna let me do the same for you, or do you want to keep hiding here armed like you’re trying to make a live-actionRatatouille?”

That seemed to convince the lot of them, and they hurried down into the wine cellar. I couldn’t lock them inside—I didn’t want them to be trapped in there and starve to death—so I grabbed a chair and told them to prop it under the doorknob.

“Don’t remove this until it’s been quiet for a while, but don’t wait too long. I figure most of you don’t want to be here once the cops arrive.”

“Aren’t you staying with us?” one of the server’s asked. God, the girl couldn’t have been more than eighteen. I hoped the trauma of whatever she heard and saw didn’t stick with her for too long.

“Gotta help more people,” I said shortly. I was growing brusquer as the minutes marched endlessly on, but who could blame me? I was exhausted down to the marrow of bones. My feet ached, my thighs burned, my back twinged, yet I had to keep going. There was still so much more to do.

“Who are you?” another asked. “Some sort of undercover security detail? Ex special forces? A spy?”

While each of those suggestions was a bit laughable, I couldn’t exactly blame him for assuming that.

I shrugged as I stepped out. “I’m a gardener.”

20

VANESSA

It was hard to say whether hours or minutes passed. Time had no meaning whenever bullets were flying.

I’d have thought the sheer hail of ammunitions and screams would have summoned the cops by now, but then again, Chadwicke had probably chosen this compound precisely because it was so far from any police station. What was meant to protect Chadwicke had turned out to be his downfall.

I couldn’t believe he was already dead. That it had happened sofast.I’d expected him to be like the evil, final boss in a video game, but he’d been the second one out of the game.

I supposed I really had been naïve, that my idealistic thoughts about justice and the like had been just that:naïve.

Oh, well, nothing I could do about it now. I would say live and learn, but hopefully I would never be in such a position again. I’d had my fill of action and espionage. I wanted to get back to my old life.

I hid the last group of staff in an old supply room, then looked out the window. I wanted to go to the party, but most of the guests were either gone or hiding. As much as Rosette’s face lingered in my mind, I couldn’t risk going into the active battlefield where the last holdouts of the security were fighting Leo. It tore at my heart, but I had to be realistic.

God,Leo.

That beautiful coat of his was pure red, blood flying off him whenever he moved. His healing ability astounded me. Why hadn’t it worked that day I found him in the forest? Had it been his curse? Or had those bears done such a number on him that it was beyond whatever magic he had inside him?

I’d ask him later if I remembered. If we both survived.

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