Page 151 of Beware of Dog

The sun was setting, a matchstick flare peeking between buildings, striking sparks against manhole covers and mesh trash cans. Above it, the clouds pressed low, fat with the promiseof rain. When he tipped his head back before they went inside, he saw that the peak of the sky was already black.

All the better for concealing them.

The apartment door opened on the sound of bright laughter, and the savory scent of food cooking. Pongo was perched on the edge of the recliner, head thrown back, hand to his middle as he cracked up over something. Fox, Tenny, and Reese were on the sofa, the coffee table in front of them completely covered by guns, and magazines, and knives of all sorts. Tenny was oiling a gun part with a rag, and glanced up briefly at their entrance.

A big, booming laugh rolled out of the kitchen, where it smelled so good. Shep stepped fully into the apartment and looked that direction to find Mercy Lécuyer with his hair tied back and his sleeves folded up, spooning something out of a steaming skillet onto the plates laid out on the breakfast bar.

“Bonjour!” he called, as Toly heeled the door shut. “I thought maybe you boys could use a strong hammer hand.” He grinned, and when Shep gaped at him, truly floored, shot him a wink. “Y’all come eat while it’s hot.”

~*~

When Cass woke up properly, and there was pain, but she knew why, and she knew where she was and why she was there, night had fallen beyond the hospital room window. His eyes felt crusty, but she could see clearly, which meant, when she turned her head on the pillow—and even that small movement sent daggers of pain through her torso—she could see Raven seated in a hard plastic chair in perfect detail. She was wearing a black and white tracksuit that was decidedly not designer, hair tied up on top of her head, and glanced up from her phone when Cass’s hair rustled on the pillow.

“You look terrible,” Cass said, and she did. Sleepless bruises under her eyes, skin too-pale where her makeup had smudged off, lips dry and bloodless. But she also looked beautiful, because she was Raven Blake, and because she washere.

Raven tipped her head, narrowed her eyes in a mock scowl, and then her tired face collapsed into a smile. “Hello, love. How do you feel?”

Cass shifted on the bed, then thought better of it, biting her lip until the worst of the sharp pain receded. “Like I got shot.”

Raven lifted and waggled two fingers. “Twice, even.”

“Damn.”

“Quite.” She pocketed her phone, stood, and came to perch on the edge of the bed. Up close, it became evident that she’d washed her face here at the hospital, and hadn’t managed to get all of her mascara off. She rested her hand over Cass’s forearm, just below the IV line plugged at her inner elbow.

Cass swallowed with difficulty; her dry-throated gulp must have ben audible, because Raven fetched the cup and pitcher and straw off the bedside table and helped her drink. “Small sips, now.”

Cass wanted to gulp it all down and ask for more, but did as instructed. After, she said, “Where’s Mum?”

Raven cocked a brow, like she’d expected a different question.

“I put her up at the nearest hotel, actually. She’s watching Nat for me and I promised to call her with any updates.”

“You left the baby with her?”

“She’s a bit emotional right now, but she’s not incompetent.”

“Is anyone on guard duty?”

“Listen to you: an old lady less than forty-eight hours and worrying about Lean Dog business.”

“Raven,” Cass pleaded, and was swamped with the urge to cry.

Raven gave her arm a brisk, comforting rub. “I know, I’m sorry. Miles and Tommy are with her.”

Cass let out a deep breath that sparked pain in every part of her chest. “What about…where’s Shep? He went back to the city, didn’t he? Is he…he’s going to…”

“Easy.” Raven laid her hand on her shoulder, and Cass realized she was halfway to hyperventilating, and that it was a very bad idea given the way her torso lit up like one of those lightning balls they sold at the museum gift shop. “Take it easy,” Raven said, and actually shushed her, as though she were a small child. It was more comforting than Cass would ever admit.

She swallowed, and got her breath back, so to speak. “He’s going to do something stupid.”

“Oh, darling.” Raven brushed her hair back, and it felt nothing like when Shep did it, with her long, manicured nails, and her soft fingertips, but it was still a loving gesture that warmed her. “Save for marrying you, everything that man does is stupid.”

Cass snorted, and then regretted it. Her hand was floppy, but she was able to lift it, and press it to her sternum with a groan.

“Careful of your bandages,” Raven cautioned.

She could feel them under her gown, thick swaths of them. When she twisted her shoulders a fraction—fucking ow—she felt their tension over her clavicles and around her back, halfway down her ribs.

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