"I can't," I whispered. "I already saw the needle."
"Do you want to stay partially paralyzed?" Hank asked reasonably.
"Jesus Hesus, of course not," I snapped.
"Oh my God," Dima yelled. "Is that what the H stands for?"
I turned to her and an evil little grin spread across my lying lips… "Yes. Yes, it is. OUCH," I squealed as Junior stabbed me and Hank held me still. "You people suck."
"All better. The paralysis should be completely out of your systems in the next half hour. It was a fairly complicated compound for those Wolves to have used. They didn't seem that smart."
"They weren't smart at all," Hank said as he stretched his legs and walked around the room. "It had to be the Council directing the entire show."
"How would they have known to even be ready?" I asked as I felt the full use of my arms and legs coming back.
"They clearly have someone on Angela," Hank said. He turned to Dima. "Did she make any calls on the way to meet up?"
"No, but I think she was texting," Dima said as she shook the dried blood out of her hair. Suddenly she looked like a freakin' supermodel again. "Or maybe she was drinking… Honestly, I couldn't tell. I was wrapped up in my own hell when I realized I'd have to swallow your farked up shift prohibiting juice. Angela and her weirdness were the least of my problems."
"Sounds pretty simple to me," Junior volunteered as he put all of his potions back into his bag.
"Can't wait to hear this," I mumbled as I massaged the hole Junior had made in my arm with his version of a shot.
"Council caught Angela going behind their backs by working with you three. Council no likey agents playing both sides of the coin, so they followed her and busted on her. Literally."
"Why'd they leave us alone?" I asked as I tried to make sense of the most recent bloodshed.
"Angela's beating was a warning," Hank surmised.
"To stop us," Dima said. "They want us to stop whatever we're doing or we'll end up like Angela."
"Clearly they don't know us very well," I said. "Wait, does this make you want out?"
"No, it doesn't," she said with an eye roll and a smirk. "I am not a weenie."
"Really?" I asked nicely.
"Yes," she answered hesitantly, clearly wondering why I was being so polite.
"Junior, do you have a vitamin concoction in that bag from hell?" I asked.
"Why yes, yes I do."
"Awesome! Dima would like a massive B-12 shot in her ass. Now," I told him as I watched my Dragon partner pale considerably. "Still not a weenie?" I asked her.
"You are a terrible bitch," she hissed and backed away from Junior as he prepared her shot.
"I've been called worse," I said with a grin.
"Fine," she huffed. "You're not a weenie. I'm not a weenie. I do not need any vitamins. Ever. And I am not giving up. I want my father dead—he's an evil man. If that helps you accomplish what you need to get done, then that's freakin' fantastic. If you're going in a new direction, then we can split up now. No harm—no foul. Your call."
"We're staying the course," I said as I glanced over at Hank.
He gave me a quick nod and sat down at Junior's laptop.
"We can't just walk into the Council building and ask for Angela," I muttered as I paced the room and tried to come up with a plan.
"Nope, but I can," Junior said slowly.
"He's right," Hank said as he closed the computer and leaned back in his chair with a lopsided grin.
"Explain," I said.
"I can't ask for your boss, but I sure as hell can march into the building and register as the new Alpha of the Georgia Pack. I'll be able to tell if she's been in the Council chambers."
"I'll go with him," Dima volunteered.
"You're a Dragon. They'll smell you a mile away," I said.
Was she an idiot?
"I have a cream that blocks…" she started.
"Self-tanner?" I asked with narrowed eyes.
"As a matter of fact, yes," she said defensively. "How did you know?"
"Because your kin used that crap when they were hiding who they were and abducting female Werewolves," I snapped as I advanced on her. "Did you work with those bastards on that little project?"
"Back off," Dima snarled. She went into a defensive position as Hank and Junior moved to flank me on either side.
"Did. You. Work. With. Those. Now. Dead. Douchecanoes?" I ground out, very happy she had drunk the solution that kept her from shifting. It was going to be far easier to kill her in this form.
"I did not," she hissed. "My very missed and sadly murdered brother came up with the compound. It was stolen by his murderer."
"And that would be?"
"My father."
"Holy hell, you have whackjob of a family," Junior muttered.
"Tell me something I don't know," Dima snapped. "So if you want to go at it, let's go. If you want to get to the bottom of what's happening, I'd suggest you take three steps away from me. I might not be able to shift, but I can light this house on fire in about two seconds flat."
Slowly I backed away. I still didn't completely trust her, but I believed her story. Plus, we did need her. I wasn't even sure what we were looking for anymore, but the more heads the better at this point.