Painted Blind Part 23

"I'm sorry, Psyche," a voice said quietly. "I failed you."

"Aeas?"

He appeared in the corner with his head hung.

"How long have you been here?"

"I never left." He looked more sick now than when he found me. "I should have gone with you. I should have protected you."

I shook my head. It wasn't his fault. "I had to meet Theron alone. You know that." I looked down at my clothes. I was wearing the gray T-s.h.i.+rt and yoga pants I slept in, but I didn't change before losing consciousness the night before. Where were my blood-stained clothes from yesterday?

"Did you...?" I motioned to my clothes.

"Well, uh...." He wouldn't look into my eyes. "We didn't want your dad to see you covered in blood."

I was grateful but embarra.s.sed nonetheless. They healed my shattered face and bruised body. I wasn't sure how their medicine worked, but even my ribs, which I thought were broken, were better today. Both Aeas and Eros had seen the billboard, but it was different knowing they'd undressed me.

Aeas cleared his throat. "So, the task?" He sat on the corner of the bed.

"Fill the basket with silver wolves' fur."

The way his brow wrinkled reminded me vaguely of Dad. "Wolves are vicious and somewhat reclusive, but this task seems easier than the last."

"They're protected animals in my world. We can't kill them for their fur. I don't even know where to find a pack of wolves. Somewhere in Yellowstone, but the park is huge. They could be anywhere."

"You're sure there are wolves in the Yellowstone Park?"

"Yeah, it was a big deal when they were reintroduced. How many do you think it would take to fill the basket?"

He shrugged. "It depends on how big they are. Two or three at least."

"Maybe we can find someone who's seen them recently. Still, once we find the pack, what do we do?"

"We'll have to catch them. Winter's coming, so they'll have thick coats. We could brush the fur off them."

"These are wolves we're talking about, not golden retrievers." We would have to knock them out. Forest Rangers had tranquilizer guns. We needed something like that, but I didn't know if we could buy that stuff. I found my phone and scrolled through the numbers. I bet Rory could find a tranquilizer gun.

Aeas caught my wrist before I pressed the send b.u.t.ton. "We don't need Rory's help."

"We needed him last time."

"But now you have Eros."

Chapter 20.

"What's next?" Rory asked. We stood at our lab station in chemistry. I sorted beakers and he measured the first compound.

"Wolves," I answered quietly. In explaining the task to him I left out the part where Theron nearly beat me to death, Aeas healed me, and Eros spent the night in my bed after I cried myself silly. "I have a lead." I showed him the text I received in first period: Dr. Nancy Bonner. During English cla.s.s I googled her name. "Local wolf expert. MSU professor."

Rory lit the Bunsen burner and handed me a graduated cylinder. "So, when do we go see her?"

"Today." Dr. Bonner's schedule was posted on her homepage. She had office hours every Monday and Wednesday from two to four.

I looked up and caught Rory watching a girl across the room. Her name was Vanessa, and she transferred from Kalispell last year. Her dark hair was cropped short, and she wore chic little gla.s.ses.

When he realized I was watching him, his attention snapped back to our experiment. "Can't today. I promised my mom I'd help set up the church nativity." He set the beaker on the burner and noted the time.

I couldn't wait two days. "I'll let you know what I find out."

Rory's eyes narrowed and his pen tapped the countertop. "I suppose you're taking Aeas."

If it were up to Aeas, I wouldn't go anywhere alone. After haggling most of Sunday afternoon, I convinced Aeas I was safe in my dad's house and at school. He was adamant that I not go anywhere else without him.

"I'm going alone," I told Rory. "I can handle introducing myself to a college professor without the two of you holding my hands."

Rory didn't answer.

"When we're ready for some real action, I'll let you know."

He avoided my eyes and stirred the compound. "Yeah, whatever." His glance went to Vanessa again.

I elbowed him. "In the meantime I think you should ask her out," I whispered.

He studied the lab instructions and muttered, "Says Venus."

At the end of last period I went to Mr. Mayhue's desk and told him I wanted to bring up my grade.

He leaned back in his chair and put his Birkenstocks on the desk. "I think there's something you need more than a grade." He smoothed the hair that fell from his graying ponytail.

I scoffed. "Therapy?"

Mr. Mayhue threw his head back and laughed. "I wasn't going to say it exactly like that." He leaned forward, and his expression grew serious. "Therapy doesn't have to be sitting down with a shrink and telling your life story. Sometimes it's just expressing what's inside you." From a bottom desk drawer he took a worn, leather-bound drawing book. "I have dozens of these." He fanned the pages, which were filled with detailed sketches. "Full of my own personal therapy." He smiled widely. "No advanced degree necessary."

"So...?" I wasn't quite sure how this related to my grade.

Mr. Mayhue shrugged. "Get one. Fill it. I'll give you an A."

"Seriously?"

"You'll never master still lives and perspectives until you harness the chaos in your head."

Sketch therapy and an A. Yeah, I could handle that.

Garland and wreathes hung over Main Street. Radio stations played holiday music, and bell-ringing Santas stood outside the department stores. I saw these festivities but felt completely disconnected from them. All I could think about was wolves.

I drove to Montana State University and parked in the visitor lot. Going alone seemed perfectly reasonable while I was at school. Now, as I watched students crossing campus in every direction, I instinctively scanned the crowd for wavy blonde hair and mean, powerful shoulders. I hated Theron for making me more afraid. I breathed hard against the knot in my chest then got out of the car and started uphill. I made a quick stop at the bookstore, where I purchased a sketchbook, before heading across campus.

For Dr. Nancy Bonner studying the Yellowstone wolf pack was a pa.s.sion; sharing the knowledge she gleaned was her life's work. She was a professor in the Ecology Department, and her research focused on the impact of carnivores on their surrounding ecosystem. Photos of the Yellowstone wolves covered every link on her homepage. Her office was located in Lewis Hall, a turn-of-the-century brick edifice with rows of forward-facing rectangular windows.

It was three-thirty when I climbed the stairs and made my way down the tiled hallway past several other offices. Dr. Bonner's door stood ajar. Behind the desk stood a pet.i.te woman with curly red hair partially tamed by a barrette.

I rapped on the door. "Dr. Bonner?"

"Come in." She rummaged through the papers on her desk without looking up.

"I wanted to ask you some questions about the Yellowstone wolf pack."

"Packs," she corrected. "The nearest is at Mammoth, but there are several."

I rehea.r.s.ed this a dozen times in my mind, but I still didn't know how to approach the subject of gathering wolf fur. "How many wolves are in the Mammoth pack?"

"Currently there are eight."

"Are they all silver?" I asked.

She looked at me like I stepped out of kindergarten with paint smudged on my face. I should have brought Rory. He was much better at talking to adults. But, here I was on my own and botching it up big time.

"One white, two black and the rest gray," Dr. Bonner answered finally.

"Do wolves move in predictable patterns?"

Dr. Bonner pushed the papers aside and sat down. She considered me silently as she rolled up the sleeves of her b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt.

"I mean, is it possible to see them?" I stammered.

"Most people don't see them from the road, and if you are out hiking, you don't want to see them at all."

"But you've seen them," I said. "There are photos of them on your website."

She opened a desk drawer and drew out a compact photo alb.u.m. She showed me the print on the first page. It was a close-up of a large white wolf. "These photos were taken from a hundred yards away while the wolves were milling about their den. They may seem cute and fluffy, but there's no meaner carnivore out there."

I felt myself swallow fear. "Where's the den?"

Dr. Bonner smirked and tossed the alb.u.m aside. She turned her attention to a plate of sugar cookies covered in cellophane. "There's a bake sale at the Union-the first of many holiday fundraisers around campus." She pulled off the plastic wrap and took a frosted snowman from the plate. "Usually I steer clear of baked goods because of my allergies, but I couldn't pa.s.s on sugar cookies. Have a few." She eyed my baggy clothes disdainfully. "Seriously, you could use them."

I took a cookie from the plate. It was a reindeer with a red dot nose.

"You're not a college student."

"I go to Bozeman High," I confessed.

"Your teacher a.s.signed a science report or a persuasive paper or something like that? All the things you need to know for your a.s.signment are on my website." Dr. Bonner bit off the snowman's head then wiped cookie crumbs from her lips. "I have papers to correct. Have a nice afternoon."

Despite her dismissal I stood there a moment debating what to do. She raised her eyebrows and waited, so I thanked her for the cookie and went out the door. I bit off the reindeer head and chewed angrily.

Without Dr. Bonner's help, I couldn't complete the task. I needed information, and all I got was a sugar cookie. At least it was a good one. My grandma used to make sugar cookies like this with pistachios in the dough. I froze mid-step halfway down the stairs.

Dr. Bonner had allergies.

I turned and ran to her office. The door was still open. She stood there wheezing. Her neck and face were blotchy red. An oversized purse lay on the desk, and Dr. Bonner rummaged furiously through its contents. She swayed unsteadily. The swelling under her eyes made her unrecognizable from the woman who stood there minutes ago.

"What can I do?" I exclaimed.

She clutched her throat and collapsed into the chair.

I dumped the purse contents onto the desk. Caught in the folds at the bottom was an EpiPen, which fell out last. I didn't know how to use it, but the instructions were on the side.

Dr. Bonner's eyes rolled back as she lost consciousness. I pulled the cap off the EpiPen and jammed it hard into her thigh. The instructions said to leave it there ten seconds.

Was I too late? Would I have to tell campus police and the county sheriff that she'd been killed by a sugar cookie? I watched for her chest to rise and fall, but it didn't.

Suddenly she gasped and startled awake. She grabbed my shoulder and squeezed hard.

"Let me guess." I tried to make my voice light, but I was shaking. "You're allergic to nuts?"

The answer was labored breathing.

"Should I call an ambulance?"

She shook her head, still unable to speak. Within minutes the swelling in her face disappeared. As she gained strength, she touched her throat and looked away from my eyes. Finally she whispered, "What do you really want to know about the wolves?"

I dropped the EpiPen onto the desk. "I want to know how to gather wolves' fur without getting killed. It's a task I have to complete-fill a basket with silver wolves' fur."

"You're too young to get into a sorority."

"It's more serious than that." I forced a smile. "Almost as serious as pistachios in sugar cookies."

The natural color returned to her cheeks. A tiny circle of blood on her khaki skirt where the needle pierced her thigh was the only indication that she nearly died. "The only time I touched a wolf was when they tranquilized the pack to tag them. Once you've seen a pair of wolves take down a fifteen hundred pound moose, you realize they're best admired from afar."

I groaned. I didn't want to hear how the task was impossible.

"However," she continued, "your particular task is easier than you think." The fierce strength returned to her green eyes. "Between the den and the nearest stream is a blackberry bush-th.o.r.n.y and twisted. The wolves pa.s.s it every day on their way to water."

"And they leave fur behind." Hope quickened my heartbeat.

She nodded slowly. "Lots of it. All you have to do is wait until the pack leaves the den, then gather as much as you need. Grab a sheet of paper from the printer, and I'll draw you a map."

She explained the route through Yellowstone Park I would have to use to get there. "Go early in the morning and watch with binoculars from the hilltop." Dr. Bonner marked a star on the map. "Count them as they leave the den. One white, two black and five gray. When they're all out, make your way to the bush here." She marked another spot on the map. "Take some pepper spray in case you meet the pack. The alpha male is one mean s...o...b.."

I folded the map and tucked it into my pocket. "You have no idea how much you've helped me."

"Ditto on that one."