Sui Generis – 53

 

Antton and Ulrik were pacing the small waiting room of the local Enforcer clinic when Brand and Mag arrived. From what they had been told when Ulrik called, Randulf had managed to contact Antton for help after killing Alanna. Ulrik and Antton had arrived to find both Randulf and Lew in dire straits and had immediately transported them to the clinic.

"How are they?" Mag asked, once he'd gotten Antton's attention.

"They'll live," was Antton's terse reply.

Ulrik joined them to say, "She did a lot of damage to both of them. Her strength, born of her rage and insanity, was incredible. However, since they are werewolves," he pointed out, obviously sensing the depth of Mag's worry, "they'll heal. The doctors did what they could to close their wounds. Now they just have to sleep until their healing is complete."

"How long?"  

"It could be hours, or a day or two, especially for Lew. He lost a terrific amount of blood and some flesh on his foreleg as well."

Mag shuddered, glancing fearfully at Brand.

"Stop worrying," Brand said, wrapping his arm around Mag's waist. "They'll be fine."

"It's not them I'm worried about. Okay, yeah, it is, but…" Mag shuddered again. "What if it had been you?"

Brand replied reassuringly, "I've got a double whammy going. I can already heal quickly because I'm a dhampir. Now with the werewolf added to the mix… Hell, I'd probably be up and about already, looking for more trouble."

"It takes a lot to kill one of us," Antton said. Then he shot a caustic look at Brand. "Do not think you can take on the rogues with impunity quite yet. You have a lot more to learn and you're still too young, as a werewolf, to have the kind of healing powers the rest of us do."

"All right. I understand." Brand looked well and truly chastised.

"Just remember that when the time comes," Mag told him fiercely.

"I will. I will. I promise."

"Can we see them?" Mag asked.

"There's not much to see, other than two sleeping werewolves," Ulrik told him. He chuckled. "They're not even being forced to wear a cone."

Mag smiled slightly, imagining either Randulf or Lew in one of those. "They'd tear them off almost before a doctor put it on."

"Undoubtedly. And then force-feed them to him."

"So I guess we just wait." Mag walked over to one of the chairs and sat, staring at the door leading to the rest of the clinic.

Antton held a hurried consultation with Ulrik then told Mag, and Brand, "Sitting around doing nothing will only make the waiting harder. Ulrik's going to take Brand on a training mission and you're going with him, Mag."

Mag shook his head. "I'm waiting," he said stubbornly.

"Go!" Antton pointed dictatorially at the exit where Ulrik and Brand stood waiting.

"You can't make me," Mag protested.

Antton took a step toward him only to pause when Brand hurried back to where Mag sat.

"I could use your moral support," Brand said quietly, then he grinned. "I have the feeling Ulrik's not going to show me how to pick the right wine to go with fish as compared to red meat."

Snorting out a laugh, Mag nodded and got to his feet. "Probably not. Okay, I'll come with but"—he looked squarely at Antton—"you let us know the moment there's any change with them."

Antton's lips curled up. With a mocking salute he replied, "Yes, sir."