Blood Challenge by Eileen Wilks Page A

trained.”
    Sjorensen nodded briskly. She wasn’t smiling—but she was still glowing, dammit. Better follow through. Lily dug out her phone and called her boss. She used the office number, not his personal line. He’d probably gone home by now, but she could leave a message …
    “Ida Rheinhart,” a familiar, polished-steel voice said.
    “Ida, this is Lily Yu. I—”
    “Lily. You were on my list to call. I have some unfortunate news. Ruben had a heart attack approximately two hours ago. He’s in intensive care.”

NINE
    RULE wondered which of his many sins in this life or any other caused him to have to spend so damned much time in hospitals. They were not a comfortable place for a lupus, stinking as they did of sickness and injury.
    “This your first time in Nashville?” the cabbie asked.
    “No, but it’s been a few years.” He was no stripling to lose control, he reminded himself. Nor did his wolf see humans as prey, but the smell of blood was … stimulating. And he hadn’t eaten.
    “Guess you’re not here for fun, seeing as how you’re headed straight for Vandy,” the driver announced cheerfully.
    “Not really, no.” Rule retrieved one of the strips of jerky and smiled faintly. Lily had planned ahead better than he had. Jerky wouldn’t fill him, but it would help.
    “Even if you can’t make it to the Opry, maybe you can check out the General Jackson’s Showboat. Man’s got to eat, after all, and it’s—hey, would you look at that!” the driver exclaimed as he turned onto Medical Center Drive. “Somebody’s picketing the damned hospital. Whatcha think that’s about?”
    “Have you heard of Humans First?” Thanks to the questions at his impromptu press conference, Rule already knew about the protesters ranged outside the oldest part of the medical complex. They were a wet, lonely little group at the moment. The TV cameras had already been and gone, getting a clip for the late news, and no one else seemed to be paying attention. But that clip would air, and probably nationally.
    “They those folks that want to lock up all the weers?”
    “Something like that,” Rule said dryly.
    “Well, that’s kinda extreme, ain’t it? Though I can’t see why the government stopped registering them. Seems to me that worked pretty well. They couldn’t turn furry, so they didn’t cause any trouble.”
    “Aside from the legal issues, there was a problem with the drug they used. It drove lupi insane.”
    “No kidding? I thought it was supposed to stop them from going nuts.”
    “Government doesn’t always get it right, does it?”
    “You got that for damned sure right. Say, have you heard the one about the werewolf, the rabbi, and the priest?”
    Rule listened and laughed at the punch line as they passed the protesters. The man finished just as they pulled up at awning over the entrance to the tower that held Cobb’s room. Rule checked the cabby’s license, making a note of his name, as he took out his wallet. “Do you mind if I steal that joke, Jake?”
    “Hey, spread it around. Everyone needs a laugh, right?”
    “Right. You might want to catch Jon Stewart’s show next Wednesday.” Rule passed the man a twenty for a ten-dollar fare. “If I get a chance, I’m going to use your joke. If so, I’ll mention you.”
    “You’re what? You mean you’re gonna be on Stewart’s show?”
    Rule smiled as he stepped out into the heavy drizzle. “Watch it and see.” He closed the door.
    It was a small thing, maybe, but Rule was betting Jake would tell that story often to friends, family, and future fares—about how he’d had “that weer prince” in his cab and didn’t know it—and that Rule was a good sport and used his joke on Stewart’s show. He’d probably tell them the joke, too. And a few of those people would begin to think lupi were more like them than unlike. That was Rule’s job: making his people seem less alien and scary.
    Cobb’s killing spree was going to make that job a