the Cav out of Park.
Kayla leaned forward and placed a hand on his headrest. “What’s the matter? I said I’ll take you to her. After all we’ve done, you don’t trust us?”
“No, it’s not that. I can’t leave yet.”
“Why?”
“How many of these cops have been hurt?”
She looked through the windows on either side and said, “Several, but at least they’re still alive.”
“And what about guys like that one?” Cole asked, pointing to a group of officers clustered around a large man lying on the sidewalk. “How long before they start to change?”
Kayla drew in a quick hissing breath. “You’re right. We must end the lives of the badly wounded before they can continue the cycle.”
“Or, you can hand me that tackle box on the floor back there and I can end it another way.” When Kayla handed over the medical kit, Cole told her, “You go find Paige. Take as many of the others as you can and try to help her. Ben can lead me to you.”
“If even one Full Blood is to be killed, we’ll need all the fighters we can get.”
“Do you know how to help these wounded cops without killing them?” he asked.
After a slight pause, Kayla replied, “No.”
“Then let me do it. In case you haven’t noticed, they took out a few Half Breeds on their own. I won’t just drive away and let them die for it.”
“Do what you must here, but be quick. Ben will stay behind and take you to the fight.” With that, Kayla left the car. She’d shifted into an agile, vaguely feline form before all four of her paws touched the street, then she faded away.
Cole rummaged through the medical kit until he found the bundle of turkey basters and some eye drop bottles marked HB.
The street looked like a war zone, but was quieter than it had been a few minutes ago. Cars were parked at odd angles, some of them on the sidewalk, while others were badly damaged or completely destroyed. Shots crackled from random spots in the distance. Men and women in uniform scrambled to find each other and talk on radios while dealing with civilians or wounded who lay stretched out on the ground.
As far as Cole could tell, there were only a few Half Breeds in the vicinity. He couldn’t see any of them, but heard barks and snarls nearby. One wild howl was ended by a chorus of shotgun blasts. He hurried to the fallen cop he’d spotted from his car and was stopped by a burly man in a black jumpsuit and a heavy bulletproof vest with a badge sewn into the spot where a breast pocket should be.
“Whoa, back up,” the big guy warned.
Despite the rifle in the cop’s hands, Cole kept moving. “That man’s hurt,” he said. “I can help him before he gets worse.”
The guy with the rifle shook his head. “More paramedics are on the way. Go back to your home and let us do our job.”
“I just need to get a look at the wound,” he insisted. “I’m a doctor, and having him lying flat or on his side or with his head elevated could make the difference between whether or not he lives long enough for the paramedics to help.”
The words had flown out of him in a way that reminded him of a religious zealot speaking in tongues. They were a mix of some things he’d heard on TV and in a couple classes he’d gotten at Red Cross class, tied together with a dash of bullshit. The recipe was just good enough for the heavily armed man to let him get a little closer.
The wounded cop was hurt badly, but he was strong enough to hang on. His uniform was ripped open at the waist and shredded all the way down to the knee. When the man saw his fellow officer escort Cole to him, he opened his eyes wider and said, “I think it’s got rabies or something. My leg feels li—like it’s burning.”
Making a loose fist around an eyedropper, Cole leaned forward until his hand was over the wound, then tightened his fist to spray some liquid from the dropper onto the wound. “Keep his head up,” he said. “It’ll help him stay awake.”
The man on the sidewalk made a sound as if someone had tightened a belt around his injury. He held onto his breath for a moment and then let it out as if the invisible belt had been loosened. “Burning stopped,” he sighed. Cole bent down to hear him better.
“I don’t know what you did, but thanks, man,” the cop said. The frantic edge to his expression had been dulled and his muscles no longer looked as if every last one of them was pulled taut.
From there, Cole made the rounds to anyone else he could find who looked wounded badly enough to be in danger of becoming a Half Breed. According to Paige, little nips or cuts didn’t matter, but if a wound looked just shy of fatal, the Half Breed infection would take root.
Somewhere along the line he was joined by the woman he’d helped when he and Paige first arrived in Kansas City. The female officer had received some treatment for the minor wounds she’d gotten, and now insisted on escorting him to all the other wounded she could find. When he’d treated the worst cases, he handed her one of the larger turkey basters and said, “Squirt this stuff onto as many more wounds as you can find. It’ll keep them sterile until they can be stitched up.”
“Where are you going?” she asked.
Another ambulance had wailed down the street and was rolling into the middle of the commotion. “The pros are here, so I’ll give you room to work.”
“You did some great work yourself. Got a name?”
Fortunately, he was spared the task of deciding if he should give his real name or come up with a fake one. As the paramedics spread out to help the wounded, the freshest batch of cops barked for all civilians to clear the scene. Cole followed the order, wondering if it had been a mistake to distribute the solution. It had only taken a few minutes, but his gut told him he’d wasted too much time.
Paige was still out there with that Full Blood.
She could be lying wounded somewhere waiting for him.
Maybe she was already dead.
As soon as he got to the Cav and pulled open the driver’s door, a Mongrel poked his head out from under the vehicle’s battered back end.
“You’ve got a fan club,” Ben said.
“Any more Half Breeds around here?”
“Not for a mile or so.”
“Can you find Paige and that Full Blood?”
“Most of us went to lend your partner a hand. I can take you to her.”
Cole turned his key in the ignition. “Then let’s go.”
The Mongrel skittered ahead like a shadowy mirage.
Chapter 30
Paige hung onto her weapons with a grip that was nearly tight enough to drive the thorns in the handles all the way through the tops of her hands. Liam’s back was wide as a bull’s, and it took nearly everything she had to keep from being thrown.
The city rushed by on all sides. Pavement flowed under her like a whitewater current. Buildings, cars, people, streetlights, glowing neon, brake lights, more buildings, more cars, all of it flew past in a stream that overloaded her senses and caused her stomach to clench. When Liam leapt over something in his path, she flopped onto her side and cried out as the tendons in her shoulders and wrists threatened to snap. She tried to flatten herself against Liam’s back but was almost thrown off again as the Full Blood dug its claws into the pavement and came to a stop.
Paige slid along Liam’s back, hit his shoulders and felt her body swing into the air. Her left hand came away
