“Radiation?” I squeaked. I closed my eyes and resisted the urge to stick my fingers in my ear and sing la la la at the top of my lungs. Either that, or accept this was one of my dramatic, vivid dreams.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Thorin asked.
I coughed, and it felt like wolf claws raking into me again. I gasped and gritted my teeth until the pain subsided. Thorin waited for me to answer his question, but I delayed, not wanting to think about the horrors that had recently occurred. “What were you doing there?” I asked. “How did you know we were in trouble? How did you get me here?”
Thorin narrowed his eyes. His nostrils flared, and he exhaled an angry rush of breath like a bull preparing to charge. “Give and take, Miss Mundy,” he said. “Give me information, and I’ll return the favor.”
“How should I know what happened? One minute we were running for cover in the middle of a storm and the next a crazy wolf was trying to eat me.”
“I told you that you were making yourself vulnerable by going on this trip.”
“I am way too tired and in entirely too much pain to argue with you.”
A slim smile tugged at Thorin’s lips. “That’s the smartest decision you’ve made since coming to Alaska.”
I would have flipped him off, but lifting my hand required too much effort. My head throbbed, and the acid in my stomach churned in time to the beat, threatening to evacuate the remnants of my rehydrated dinner. “Either you’re going to have to give over those pain meds, or you’re going to end up interrogating a very sick interviewee. If you need me to demonstrate with graphic details, I’ll be glad to.”
Thorin sniffed and reached into a drawer in the nightstand beside my bed. He pulled out a hypodermic syringe and uncapped it. Needles didn’t bother me, not after wolf claws and fangs. Thorin waved the syringe at me like a carrot before a donkey. “There’s nothing more you can tell me? Any detail could help. It’s important I understand what we’re up against.”
“Please, Thorin.” My voice gave away, and if I said anything more, I would break into tears.
Thorin’s resolve crumpled. He uncapped the needle and sank it into my arm, bringing instant relief. “Miss Mundy, it would be wise to give your full cooperation.”
“Or what? Torture?”
Thorin set aside the empty needle and pushed his hair off his face. “There are things going on you know little about. I admit I know only modestly more than you. With your cooperation, we all might find some kind of understanding.”
“Who is ‘we’?’” I asked, sinking into a fuzzy place in my head.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough. For now, you just need to rest.”
I closed my eyes. Heavy sand filled my arms and legs and rendered me immobile. Not that I wanted to go anywhere. I only wanted the pain to stop. And I wanted to sleep. Sleep would solve all my problems. “I glowed,” I mumbled.
“Yes. I’d like to know how you did it.”
“I’m crazy.”
Thorin chuckled, and the sound of it gave me an even warmer and tinglier feeling than the medicine. In the last, hazy moments before my lights blinked out, Thorin said, “If you are crazy, Miss Mundy, then the rest of us are completely insane.”
Chapter Fifteen
“You look like death dug up from the grave,” Skyla said. She dumped several packets of Splenda in a huge cup of coffee and passed it to me. Her dark skin hid all but the worst bruises and scrapes, but she still looked like a wolf’s chew toy. She grunted and eased into a chair that kept a vigil at my bedside.
“I’m glad you like it,” I said. “Vogue named it the new look for fall.”
Thorin’s meds had kept me in a haze for a couple of days, but my healing had progressed to the point that, as long as I didn’t make sudden moves, a handful of ibuprofen managed the pain. But caffeine withdrawal was proving to be a bitch, so I raised the coffee cup and drained half of it in one giant gulp.
“Wow,” Skyla said, pausing with her own cup halfway to her lips.
“I think eighty percent of my pain and discomfort was due to coffee deficiency.”
“Has it started working yet?”
“Why?”
“Because we need to talk.” Skyla leaned forward, put her elbows on her knees, and cupped her chin in one hand. “Are you ready to dismiss coincidence?”
“What do you mean?”
“That attack was no fluke.”
I groaned and fell against the pillows, then groaned again when that hurt.
Skyla arched an eyebrow. “You deny?”
“No.” I frowned. “It’s all connected.”
“Of course it is.”
“But how?”
Skyla puffed her cheeks and blew out the breath; the dark curls lying over her brow danced in the gust. “Have you ever felt out of place?”
I squinted and shook my head, not understanding.
“Okay, what I mean is, to put it bluntly—”
I interrupted. “You, blunt?”
