“And if I say no... then he could die any time?”
“Someday probably,” Camry said sadly.
“Maybe another true mate will come along before then?”
He shook his head. “We get one. Just one. I’ve heard rumors about the rare shifter who finds another… but I don’t know any personally.”
I sank down onto one of the boxes behind me. If I said no I was basically condemning him to death. The fact Carrick hadn't told me that part made it seem a little more likely that he was telling the truth about things. If he was trying to manipulate me into saying yes, wouldn't that be a good way to do it?
“Sorry you asked?” Cambry asked.
“Actually, no. I just have more to think about than I thought I did. Thank you for telling me all that stuff about you, too. That can't have been too easy.”
“Please, don't tell Carrick. I don't think any of them have any idea how I feel. It would hurt them.”
“I won't, I promise.”
He nodded, then stood, and began undressing. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm waiting for a mystery delivery.”
“A mystery delivery?”
He paused, pants halfway down, with his brow furrowed in thought. He looked puzzled. “I get weird stuff from time to time. Nice stuff, like upgraded equipment and paintings. No one knows who sends it, so whenever I get wind of an incoming shipment and I haven't ordered anything I like to keep an eye out in case I can catch a clue.”
He shifted smoothly into a cat and I almost had to turn away as a hairless tail erupted from his butt. It certainly wasn't glamorous. In moments, he was a sleek cat, with fur the color of cappuccino foam.
‘Give my best to my cousin,’ he told me, before hopping up the boxes and vanishing back into the air duct. ‘And stop and grab your drink from Hobie before you leave.’
“I didn't order one.”
He didn't answer. I returned to the main part of the shop to find Hobie was indeed waiting for me with a drink. He insisted it was on the house and I took it gratefully. I looked around for a table. The place was nearly empty, with plenty to choose from. But among the few patrons I spotted not only Larkin, but Avery as well. The island was crawling with shifters.
Suddenly, inside the coffee shop didn't seem like the best place to be. Even though talking with Cambry felt like it may have helped me, my initial goal was get away to think, not to surround myself with more shifters. As I headed outside to the car, a pavilion across the street caught my eye. It was a public park on the water, and the perfect place to hide on a rainy evening. I jogged across the street, ignoring the way my knee was throbbing. The cold and the rain always made it worse. I got to the pavilion, cold and wet, but no worse for wear. I leaned against the railing and looked out over the water, angling myself to take the weight off my knee.
The icy raindrops falling into the water were almost mesmerizing. It was peaceful, just standing there, albeit a little cold. The sound of the sleet on the metal roof above me reminded me of home and the metal roof of my childhood bedroom.
How could I possibly make a decision like this? Cambry's trouble made me feel good, in a way. It seemed like shifters didn't quite have the picture-perfect life that Carrick was painting it as. But, that still didn't mean I wasn't falling into some kind of a trap. Was that why there was a three-day time limit? To tempt me into something that seemed too good to be true and force me to make a decision before I really had time to think it over? Because who would choose having their mind erased over immortality? There was still the matter of my strange feelings for him and the near-sex we had. If he had tried to initiate sex I wouldn’t have stopped him, I had even been thinking about asking for it, if not initiating it myself. Surely these feelings couldn't just be coming from me, could they? And now his life was suddenly in danger if I said no? Cambry had sort of made me feel better, but the more I thought about it, the more questions my conversation with him had left.
I wondered what would happen if I just left. Would they even know how to find me? I mean, how well organized were these shifters, how big of a network did they have? What if I just drove this car onto the mainland, caught a bus to somewhere, and hurried back home? I didn’t have any close friends, but I had enough friends that if I showed up on their doorstep and told I was in trouble they’d help me out. Could I just run and hide from all these crazy shifters and live out my life? Maybe if they couldn't find me they’d just erase Carrick's memory and leave me alone.
“And yet...” I couldn't get his face out of my head.
I frowned out at the rain. It was perfect weather really; all the thoughts rushing through my head would have seemed inappropriate on a bright, sunny day. I looked up at the moon in the sky. It still looked nearly full. Whatever happened, I didn't think I'd look at it the same way again.
The wind was knocked out of me suddenly. It was as if I had been punched in the stomach, but there was no one in front of me. At the same time, I felt like my back was on fire. It was the most painful thing I had ever experienced. It was like a puck slapshot to the face, but worse. And then the pain was gone and I crumpled to the ground. I tried to get up but I couldn't move.
I must have fallen partway out into the rain, but I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel anything. The ground was slightly sloped and little rivulets of water ran by my face. For a moment I was confused as I watched the water starting to turn red. Why was it red? In growing horror, it dawned on me that I must have been bleeding. Badly.
Chapter Seven
Brooks
My vision began to swim, everything going blurry. My eyelids felt heavy and it felt hard to breathe. I fought to keep them open. The already dark night kept fading darker and then growing lighter again.
A haze seemed to form over everything and I didn't think it was from the rain. My eyes were having trouble focusing; things were going blurry. It was hard to breathe. I tried to take a deep breath and I couldn't. I could see one hand outstretched in front of me just sitting in the muddy slush. I tried to move it and my fingers didn't even curl.
A black fog appeared at the edges of my line of sight, framing everything in darkness. All the while, the little river of blood continued passed me.
Then, there were voices, movement. Someone had found me. I thought I heard my name but I couldn't answer. Someone picked me up, effortlessly. I couldn't feel it, but suddenly I was rising off the ground. The face moved into my line of vision and stayed there, even as the background behind it began to move. I was being carried. I squinted, trying to bring the blurry face into focus. It looked like Larkin. Was it Larkin? Whoever it was seemed to be moving swiftly. I blinked as rain fell into my eyes, further blurring my vision. It pelted my face painfully but I couldn't understand why I didn't seem to feel the rain anywhere else. I heard the ding of the shop door and the feel of the rain stopped. I opened my eyes and was fairly certain we were back in Cambry's café.
“He slipped on some ice and fell, nobody needs to worry.” It was Larkin’s voice, deep and rumbly. And insulting! Me? Slip on ice?
“Hey,” I protested, uncertain if I was actually speaking out loud.
We went into the back and he sat me down on something. My head sank back into what felt like a pillow and the sound of voices seemed to fade in and out. I don't know how long I was there. One of the many faces that seemed to swim in and out of my vision came into sharp focus. It was Carrick.
“Brooks? Brooks can you hear me?!” He looked frantic.
“He's been unresponsive,” said a voice.
“Carrick?” I tried to say. I could tell from the way his face lit up that he heard me. “What happened?”
“He's talking!” a voice cried.
“It's the presence of his true mate,” said another voice.
“You were shot,” Carrick choked. “I swear to God I will find that hunter and –”
“There's no time for that now, he needs to make a choice.” I recognized Avery's voice.
“But he'll be okay? Righ
t?”
“The bullet went through his spine and out his chest. I can't tell the exact trajectory it took, but his lungs and maybe his heart could be compromised. If you don't turn him, he might not survive the trip to the hospital.”
A thrill of fear went through me. I was dying?
“Brooks? Did you hear that?” Carrick gasped to me. He frowned. “Hey? Are you still with me?”
“Yeah,” I forced myself to say.
“Why is your—” He turned and looked at someone else. “Why isn’t his hand moving?”
“It is,” I protested. “See?” I tried to lift my arm, but nothing came into my line of vision.
“The bullet went through his spine,” Avery said softly. “Even if he lives, he's going to be paralyzed. Maybe permanently.”
“No!” I tried to sit up and argue, but I couldn't move. No, no, this couldn’t be happening.
“But not if I turn him, right?” Carrick demanded. “It would heal?”
“Yes, but it's going to have to be soon. I slowed the bleeding down but...”
“I'm sorry you have to choose like this,” Carrick said to me. The sound of his voice cracking broke my heart. “I won't change you if you don't want me to. But you need to choose. Now.”
How the hell could I choose now? I still had so many questions, so many doubts. I looked into his eyes. They were full of fear and desperation as he searched my face, looking for some sign that I was going to say yes. But at the same time, I could see the love. Just looking at him filled me with a warmth I had never known.
If it was true; if everything he had told me was true… then I'd be a fool to throw it all away. And if it wasn't, well at least I’d be alive. If they tried to turn me into some weird pet or I realized I was being manipulated, I might have the chance to escape. But, I would never have a chance if I were dead.
“Do it.” I swallowed hard, gathering my strength and preparing myself. “Turn me.”
Carrick bent and swiftly kissed me. I kissed him back and urged my hands to reach up to touch him, but nothing happened. Even while dying I ached for him when he broke the kiss and pulled away.
“If this doesn't work, I want you to know that I love you.” Fur began to sprout from his skin as I watched and then he moved out of my line of sight. I waited a few moments, but nothing seemed to be happening.
Carrick's face popped back into my line of sight. “It's done,” he said.
A slightly blurry face joined his. It was strange, looking at the two of them. Carrick was crystal-clear, but everything around him, including face right next to his, was hazy.
“You have to change, now!” the face said. I recognized the voice as Avery's, but I could barely tell it was him.
I wanted to ask how, but I couldn’t find my voice.
“Just picture being a wolf,” Carrick urged. “Imagine yourself turning into one, remember what it looks like when I do it. Please, Brooks, I can't lose you!”
I closed my eyes and thought about how the fur had just sprouted from his face. I thought back to when I first saw him turn – had it really been barely twenty-four hours ago? – How his body twisted and changed... everything went dark.
~~~***~~~
Sunlight streaming in through the window woke me when it hit my eyes. I opened them to find myself in an unfamiliar place. I sat up instinctively, before remembering I was supposed to be paralyzed. A sigh of relief escaped me as my body obeyed. It felt heavy though, it was like my limbs were filled with sand. I tried to take a deep breath, but still seemed to be having trouble fully inhaling. I was shirtless and looked down to see a scar from a bullet on my chest, so close to my heart that it sent a shiver up my spine. The most painful place on me seemed to be that pesky spot at the base of my neck. I reached up and rubbed it, before taking stock of my surroundings.
I was in a big, comfortable bed. The room itself was huge, with vaulted ceilings and exposed beams. The light was coming in from a large balcony, with a view of the water. The whole room was painted a serene blue, but the walls were covered in hockey memorabilia; signed photos, jerseys, there was even a wall with nothing but sticks on it. It had to be Carrick's bedroom.
There were a total of four doors. One to the outside, one double one that was probably a closet, and then two others. One was ajar and I could see tile on the floor beyond it. Probably a bathroom, which meant the final one must have led out. I ease myself off the bed and stood. I felt slightly unsteady on my feet, but nothing like I would have expected considering I have been shot in the spine and nearly paralyzed. Was I really a shifter now?
I was wearing a pair of sweatpants that didn't belong to me, and was clean enough that I suspected someone washed me off. Assuming that it was Carrick, I felt oddly comfortable with the idea. I made my way slowly across the room to the door with a tiled floor which was indeed a bathroom. I used it, and then went to the sink, intending to splash water on my face. But when I caught sight of myself in the mirror I froze.
On one hand I did look a little worse for wear. I had just nearly died after all. But the tired face looking back at me was one that I hadn't seen in twenty-five years. I turned my head this way and that, unable to see even a speck of gray in my hair. It even looked fuller and thicker than it had been before. The lines and creases on my face were gone and my skin was flawless. I stepped back and looked at more of my body. I was still a little out of shape and obviously needed to tone, but my skin held the youthfulness that I hadn’t seen in a long time.
Hardly daring to hope, I rolled my pants up passed my knee and looked at it. The scars from numerous surgeries were gone! With a nervous breath I started to bend and unbend my leg, waiting for the pain in my knee that never came.
“It’s healed,” Carrick said from the doorway. “It will never bother you again.”
I straightened, slightly embarrassed. “You saved my life,” I said.
“You're my true mate,” said Carrick. “I would give my life for you. Saving you is the least I can do.” He tilted his head, studying me. “You look amazing.”
“I feel amazing,” I told him. I took a step toward him and wobbled a little. “But a little unsteady.”
He quickly crossed the room quickly and grabbed me to help support me. I resisted the urge to shake him off. His hands were warm on my skin and I felt oddly peaceful as he supported me against him.
“Believe me, it takes a little while to heal. Especially from a bullet wound. And a new turn. Let's get you back to bed, Nolan wants to take a look at you now that you're awake.”
He helped me back into the bed, then sprinted from the room. He was back in a flash with a glass of water. I thanked him and gratefully drained it.
“What happened after you turned me? I don't even remember you doing it.”
“Well, I was terrified that you wouldn’t change in time. You passed out.” I could see the fear in his eyes as he remembered it. “I've never seen anyone keep changing after that happens, but you completely shifted.”
Nolan signaled his arrival by cutting into the conversation. “It’s a survival mechanism for new turns. Those of us born as shifters are unable to maintain our animal forms while sleeping or unconscious,” he added, more as an explanation to me. “A newly turned shifter is able, for a brief time, to maintain their animal form to promote healing. A lucky thing too, it took me a while to get to the island and your injuries still looked fatal to humans once I arrived.”
“What happened after that?”
“We patched you up and brought you here. You changed back into human after dawn.”
“And I tucked you into bed,” Carrick said.
“You should still be resting, Carrick,” Nolan scolded. “You're recovering too, you know.”
“My true mate is alive and changed. I'm better rested than I ever have been,” Carrick said to him.
Nolan snorted. “Turn around, and let me see your back,” he said to me. I obeyed and listened to him as he prodded me. “Very good, it's nearly healed. As
soon as the sun sets I want you to shift again. Both of you. You will feel the urge to run, but I would very much like you to hold off for a few more days.”
We both nodded meekly. Nolan returned our nod in satisfaction. “Now, I if you’ll excuse me, I should return to the clinic. I expect I'll be seeing you again soon.” A strange smile spread across his face and he exchanged a knowing look with Carrick.
“What did he mean by that?” I asked as he left.
Carrick shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Just that... omegas are pretty... fertile.”
“He thinks you're going to get me pregnant,” I said flatly. The idea of it wasn't nearly as alarming as it had been before. And the thought of sex with Carrick was actually growing quite appealing. My dick had been semi-hard ever since he joined me in the bathroom.
“I know you aren’t interested in mating,” he said. “And if you don't even want to be claimed, I'll understand. Although it would help stop your shoulder from hurting.”
I rubbed the sore spot. “Actually… I think I'm rather quickly coming around to the idea,” I told him. His eyes lit up in as a wide smile crossed his face. “I guess now the Alpha Parliament doesn't have to come see me.”
To my surprise his look of elation on was replaced with one of worry.
I leaned back against the headboard with a sigh. “They have to see me anyway, I figured. Shifter or not I'm still not thrilled about it.”
“They’ll be coming to see me now,” he said.
“Why is that?”
“I turned you before they gave me permission. They make allowances for extenuating circumstances but... well they have to judge the circumstances.”
“I was dying!”
“But I still broke the law by turning you before they could see you.”
“That's ridiculous.” The phrase “broke the law” sounded a little ominous to me. “What happens to you if they decide it's not extenuating circumstances?”
Icing the Omega Page 8
