Hot Blooded

corner, Childers's
victim made a choked sound of horror.
    Lance cursed himself. He should have realized this would happen, should have
known…
    Kneeling, he snatched her into his arms. "Breathe with me. Please!" She was
going blue. "No! Grace, I love you!"
    The Truebond. If he could get her to Truebond with him, he could help her cut
her mind off from Childers. Desperately, he opened himself, sought her
consciousness. Felt her reaching for him…
    And they surged together with a silent psychic
snap
like two pieces
of a puzzle clicking together. As the power of the Truebond rolled over them
both, he sucked in a deep breath and saw her chest copy the motion. In the link,
he could feel air flooding her throat, cool and life-giving.
    Relief flooded him, just as sweet and welcome.
Thank God, thank God
,
he babbled mentally, mind to mind with her.
I thought I'd lost you.
Everything in me just… stopped
.
    Sorry
, she thought back.
Boy, I really screwed that one up. Is
the sonofabitch gone
?
    Lance looked up at the crumpled body on the floor.
He's gone
.
    Good. I love you.
    He pulled her close, savoring her soft, warm weight.
And I love you
.
    A sudden loud sob jolted them out of their warm nest of relief. They looked
up just as Childers's erstwhile victim leaped up and ran for the door.
Hell
,
Lance thought.
She saw me turn into a wolf. I'd better stop her
.
    Which would freak her out even more. She's been traumatized enough. I'll
do it
. Grace sent out a wave of Mageverse energy. She felt Deborah Keller
run into her makeshift barrier, heard the woman's terrified yelp as it wrapped
around her and held her still like a silken net.
Oh, hell
, she thought
to Lance,
so much for not scaring the crap out of her
.
    Grace tried to sit up, only to find her body was still too oxygen-starved to
readily obey. Lance slipped out from under her and gave her a hand. "You're
going to have to alter her memories," he said. "Or she's going to tell everybody
Childers was killed by a werewolf."
    "And whatever I come up with is going to have to be consistent with the fang
marks in his throat." At least she could talk, since the damage she'd felt had
been more virtual than real. With Lance's support, she trudged into the hall.
    Deborah Keller waited for them, her huge green eyes swimming with tears,
panic on her face. "What are you people?" she demanded, her voice high and
frantic. "Why are you doing this?"
    Between her weakened body and the Mageverse's distracting heat, Grace
discovered her capacity for sympathy wasn't what it should be. "To start with,"
she snapped, "we're the people who saved your ass. Which resulted in one of us
getting shot, I might add. And we did it so Gordon Childers wouldn't cut you up
like a Christmas turkey. You got a problem with that?"
    The girl blinked. "Uh, no." She hesitated, her gaze flicking from Grace's
uniform and badge to Lance. "But he's a werewolf! And you're…" She trailed off.
    "A witch. Yeah. It's hard for me to believe, too." With a gesture, she
released Deborah from her spell. When the girl made no effort to run, she felt
faintly encouraged. Maybe she was calm enough to listen now. "Look, would you
like to forget most of this crap—what Childers did to you? I could make it like
a dream. You'd think he kept you heavily medicated. You wouldn't remember… that
other stuff."
    "You could do that?" Deborah bit her lip, visibly torn as she shifted from
foot to foot.
    "Yeah."
    "I wouldn't normally… I don't like the idea of somebody…" The girl swallowed
as her eyes filled. "But I don't think I can handle this. What he did.
Remembering what he was going to do. The pictures he showed me of the others
he'd…" Her shoulders began to shake. She sobbed, slumping. "Please… please help
me! Whatever you have to do, just…"
    "It's okay." Grace stepped up to her and caught Deborah's face between her
hands. For a moment she remembered standing in just this pose with Clarice.
But I'm not Clarice
. She'd faced her fear and the Mageverse, and she'd won.
    As she reached for the girl's thoughts, she was sharply aware of Lance's mind
in the Truebond as he stood watching them, still and powerful and as deeply
rooted as an oak. "Neither of us has to be afraid now."

----
Chapter 7
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    THERE were loose ends to be tied up after that, such as explaining how
Childers's throat had come to be ripped out by a wolf. They'd decided to