Mareena was at the pack's infirmary lying comfortably on a bed and hooked up to more wires and gadgets than she'd ever seen before. She was receiving round the clock care and being monitored every moment for signs that the witch's antidote was really a toxin. There was even a second team of specialists dedicated to frantically testing the vial of vaccine Mareena had received from the Vânător de Fiare. It seemed everyone but Mareena was expecting to discover very shortly that this second vial was going to kill her and perhaps all the weres in her pack somehow. 

"I'm nervous, " Mareen whispered to Catcher who hadn't left her side since they arrived back at the enclave. "Do you think they'll come back with the antidote?"

"It'll be fine. You'll be fine," Catcher encouraged her as he squeezed her free hand.

Speaking more to herself than to Catcher she reiterated, "The Vânător de Fiare said I need the second vial to destroy the wendigo venom altogether. They just gotta bring it back," she insisted. 

"There's still two hours before you have to take it," he tried to comfort her. "Why don't you rest Mareena," he suggested as his eyes roamed over her weary face. She'd been through a terrible ordeal and had suffered so much in the last twenty four hours. It was a wonder to him that she wasn't a total basket case. "You're exhausted," he pressed as he tried to plump up her pillow and make things comfortable for her.

Mareena nodded and let out an anxious breath as she closed her eyes and tried to relax. However, every time her eyelids fluttered shut she saw flashes of the wendigo chasing her and Slevin, grabbing Slevin and even glimpses of it brutally ripping Slevin's body in half.

"I can't," she blurted out tearfully as she sat back up. Catcher was there, at her side, squeezing her hand and rubbing her back gently. 

Mareena cried quietly for a while, unable to do anything else it seemed, but then the quiet in the room was suddenly broken by the unexpected sound of a bird threshing against one of the window panes in the room. It was nearly 1:30 in the morning and it was unlikely there were any birds about. But, the sound of wings flapping against the glass did not stop and Mareena insisted Catcher go investigate.

"It's a little black bird," he said in amazement as he pulled back the curtains of the ground floor window. 

A light in the courtyard illuminated the bird, which seemed determined to keep banging on the window. Afraid it would hurt itself, Catcher slid the window open a little and tried to grasp the bird so that he could fling it clear of the building. But the bird alluded him easily and burst into the room.

Mareena let out a surprised peep when the bird flew straight to her and landed on the foot of her bed.

"It's here," she whispered excitedly to Catcher.

Catcher turned just in time to see the little black bird, no larger than a starling, transform, through a swirling dark mist, into the Vânător de Fiare. But, the transformation was not one of flesh. The witch was no more than smoke and shadow as she stood beside Mareena's bed.

Catcher cursed loudly and growled deeply feeling bewildered and threatened by the woman's unexpected appearance. Mareena, despite her astonishment at this strange turn of events, cast him a pleading look.

"I'm being monitored," she told the witch right away. "You can't stay."

"How did you even get in here?" Catcher ground out as he tried to keep his temper, and his growing fear for Mareena's safety, in check.

"Never mind that," Raiden said with a calm, quiet voice. "How are you feeling Mareena?" she asked with sincerity.

"I'm fine," she replied in an eager whisper. "Everything is fine. They keep running tests but everything is okay."

Raiden smiled and nodded, "That's good news. But you must take the second vial to destroy the venom entirely." She paused and looked back at Catcher, whose teeth were elongating into fangs and whose finger tips had turned into claws.  Ignoring his feral appearance, she turned her attention back to Mareena and asked, "You still have it?"

Mareena shook her head. "They took it. They are testing it. They think it'll poison me and maybe the pack too."

Raiden looked thoughtful. "How much time do we have?" She asked.

"Catcher?" Mareena asked.

"Just less than two hours from the time you gave her the first vial," he spit out a bit reluctantly.

"How much do you trust them to give her the antidote?" Raiden asked him point blank.

Her piercing black eyes pinned him in place and demanded a truthful answer, which he was loath to give in front of Mareena. His prolonged silence brought tears to Mareena's eyes, but she just brushed them away quickly not wanting to acknowledge that she and he felt the same. The pack would rather her die than take the chance that the vial was some kind of biological agent.

Raiden, with hands on hips, looked between the two of them with a grimace.

"Well, I didn't risk life and limb for you last night so they could leave you die an excruciating death here in the pack hospital," she retorted a little indignantly.

"What can we do?" Mareena asked desperate for a solution that would not see any of them dead.

Raiden turned her attention back to Catcher and walked over to him. It wasn't until this moment, when she was just a few feet away, that he realized she had fully materialized in the room. She was every bit flesh, blood and bone now. He could smell her scent, hear her pulse, and feel the slight heat her body produced.

How? How could she possibly materialize in the room like that? He was dumbfounded and alarmed. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. He hated witches. He despised magic. It was all deception and subterfuge. How could they possibly trust her or her antidote? He cast Mareena a woeful look. The witch had likely condemned her to die. He growled low in his throat at the very thought.

His growl had no affect on the woman though. She remained a foot or so from him and her body language indicated she was relaxed. Catcher could easily reach her neck from where he stood. And, for a brief moment, he visualized reaching out and slicing her jugular with the claw on his right index finger. 

But, Catcher's dark fantasies were suddenly interrupted by the most unexpected question. The witch leaned toward him slightly and asked earnestly, "Will you trust me?"

Angry, he stepped toward her and growled deeply indicating his hatred and his unwillingness to have almost anything to do with her. He had only tolerated her in the forest and now in the clinic for Mareena's sake. Trust was out of the question.

Mareena let out a soft sob behind them. His eyes caught hers and his pleaded with her to understand. He could not, would not, ever trust a witch.