"What are you doing?" I asked warily.
"Didn't my father tell you?" He gave me the lazy grin that had always had the power to make my heart beat faster. I was dismayed to see that it still worked. "He's sending me with you. Someone's got to take care of the rogues who attacked Adam, and he's barely mobile."
I turned on my heel, but stopped because I had no idea where to find Bran. And because Samuel was right, damn him. We needed help.
Happily, before I had to come up with something suitable to say in apology for my too-obvious dismay, the door to room one opened.
Adam looked as though he'd lost twenty pounds in the last twenty-four hours. He was wearing borrowed sweatpants and an unzipped jacket over the bare skin of his chest. Most of the visible skin was bruised, mottled technicolor with purple, blue, and black touched with lighter spots of red, but there were no open wounds. Adam was always meticulous in his dress and grooming, but his cheeks were dark with stubble, and his hair was uncombed. He limped slowly onto the sidewalk and kept a tight grip on a cane.
I hadn't expected him to be walking this soon, and my surprise must have shown on my face because he smiled faintly.
"Motivation aids healing," he said. "I need to find Jesse."
"Motivation aids stupidity," muttered Samuel beside me, and Adam's smile widened, though it wasn't a happy smile anymore.
"I have to find Jesse," was all that Adam said in reply to Samuel's obvious disapproval. "Mercy, if you hadn't arrived when you did, I'd have been a dead man. Thank you."
I hadn't figured out yet exactly what our relationship was, and knowing that Bran had told him to look after me hadn't helped. Even so, I couldn't resist the urge to tease him-he took life so seriously.
"Always happy to come to your rescue," I told him lightly, and was pleased at the temper that flashed in his eyes before he laughed.
He had to stop moving and catch his breath. "Damn it," he told me, with his eyes shut. "Don't make me do that."
Samuel had stepped unobtrusively closer, but relaxed when Adam resumed his forward progress without toppling over. I opened the sliding door behind the passenger seat.
"Do you want to lie down?" I asked him. "Or would you rather sit up on the bench seat? Sitting shotgun is out-you need something easier to get in and out of."
"I'll sit up," Adam grunted. "Ribs still aren't happy about lying down."
When he got close to the van, I backed out of the way and let Samuel help him up.
"Mercy," said Bran behind my shoulder, surprising me because I'd been paying attention to the expression on Adam's face.
He was carrying a couple of blankets.
"I meant to get here sooner to tell you that Samuel was coming with you," Bran said, handing the blankets to me. "But I had business that took a little longer than I expected."
"Did you know that you were sending him with me when you talked to me last night?" I asked.
He smiled. "I thought it was probable, yes. Though I had another talk with Adam after I left you, and it clarified some things. I'm sending Charles to Chicago with a couple of wolves for backup." He smiled wider, a nasty predatory smile. "He will find out who is out trying to create new wolves without permission and see that it is stopped in such a way that we'll not see a problem like this again."
"Why not send Samuel and give me Charles?"
"Samuel has too weak a stomach to handle Chicago," said Adam, sounding breathless. I glanced at him and saw that he was sitting upright on the short middle bench seat, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.
" Samuel is a doctor and dominant enough to keep Adam from eating anyone until he gets better," responded Samuel, climbing back out of the van and snatching the blankets out of my hands.
Bran's smile softened with amusement. "Samuel was gone for a long time," he explained. "Other than Adam, I think that only Darryl, Adam's second, has ever met him. Until we know what is going on, I'd rather not have everyone know I'm investigating matters."
"We think the time is coming when we will no longer be able to hide from the humans," said Samuel, who had finished wrapping Adam in the blankets. "But we'd rather control how that happens than have a group of murdering wolves reveal our existence before we're ready."
I must have looked shocked because Bran laughed.
"It's only a matter of time," he said. "The fae are right. Forensics, satellite surveillance, and digital cameras are making the keeping of our secrets difficult. No matter how many Irish Wolfhounds and English Mastiffs George Brown breeds and crossbreeds, they don't look like werewolves."
Aspen Creek had three or four people breeding very large dogs to explain away odd tracks and sightings-George Brown, a werewolf himself, had won several national titles with his Mastiffs. Dogs, unlike most cats, tended to like werewolves just fine.