Grey Dawn by Clea Simon Page B

just sneezing or itching,’ he said. ‘But I have asthma.’
    Dulcie turned back to the lovers. Raleigh nodded. ‘Just overnight, then. And I’ll take him to the vet first thing tomorrow to have him checked out. Besides, I know who really needs a kitten.’
    â€˜Oh?’ They all turned toward her. Dulcie wasn’t sure how Esmé would take to another cat, and Jerry and Trista already had two rambunctious littermates in a too-small apartment.
    â€˜Thorpe,’ said Raleigh. ‘If ever someone could use a companion, it’s our beloved leader.’
    â€˜Of course.’ Trista nodded. Even Lloyd looked pleased – though that could have been relief that he wouldn’t have to battle for his girlfriend’s affections. Only Dulcie was left to object.
    â€˜No, you can’t,’ she said. That was it. The danger. The warning. An innocent kitten. But they were all looking at her. Even the kitten, its eyes clear and wide in the bright night. ‘You just can’t. It’s not safe.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’ asked Raleigh. ‘I know he’s not your favorite person,’ Lloyd started in, but Dulcie waved him off.
    â€˜It’s not what you think. It’s not about my thesis, or the way he treats us. I do feel sorry for him. Really, I do, more than you can imagine.’ She looked up at the sky with its bright, pale moon and thought about the wounded woman. Maybe tonight would pass without incident. Maybe another woman was already hurt, or worse. Maybe it was all a horrible dream, but she couldn’t be sure. And until she was, she had to do what she could to keep one innocent safe.
    â€˜You can’t give the kitten to him, Raleigh. It isn’t safe,’ she said finally, turning back toward her friends. ‘I have reason to believe that Martin Thorpe is a werewolf.’

FOURTEEN
    â€˜H uh?’
    â€˜Wha?’
    â€˜Dulcie?’
    All three of her friends turned toward her in surprise. Even the kitten, nestled in Raleigh’s arms, looked up as if startled, its blue eyes blinking in its orange-striped face. It took Trista to articulate the question on all their minds: ‘Martin Thorpe is a were-
what?’
    â€˜Dulcie, beware!’
Dulcie turned. The low, soft voice calling to her cut through the din, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure who it was.
‘There’s danger here!’
    â€˜Mr Grey?’ She mouthed the words, ignoring the outcry that her pronouncement had provoked.
    â€˜Dulcie! What are you saying?’ Trista had her arm and was shaking her. Lloyd was by her side, his own touch somewhat more gentle. ‘Are you feeling okay?’
    â€˜She’s drunk,’ Trista said, turning to Lloyd. ‘She doesn’t have a head for alcohol.’
    â€˜No!’ Dulcie shook her friends off. ‘I’m not. It’s just …’ She put her hand up to her forehead, as if to push back the blinding pressure that had just begun, behind her temples.
    â€˜It’s not your fault, hon.’ Trista put her arm around her, more congenially this time, and started to walk her back toward the street. ‘It’s that cheap sherry. We may as well have been drinking cough syrup.’
    â€˜No, it’s not that.’ Dulcie pulled away. ‘I’m not drunk. Honest.’ She looked around into three sets of disbelieving eyes. Four, if you counted the kitten’s. ‘I can explain what I said about Thorpe, really. But right now, I have to concentrate. There’s danger here.’
    Raleigh and Lloyd exchanged a look, and Trista took a step forward. In one moment, Dulcie was going to be hustled away from that alley, whether she liked it or not. She needed to explain what she suspected and, more urgently, had heard. Mr Grey wouldn’t have warned her if there were nothing—
    â€˜What was that?’ Raleigh turned back to toward the alley. The kitten mewed softly.