Pack Dynamics

by Julie Frost

  Janni blinked. “Well. I guess it fits that an eccentric billionaire has an equally eccentric doctor.”

  O O O

  The ringing telephone jerked Megan out of a sound sleep. Blearily, she looked at the clock. Three in the morning?

  She picked up the receiver. “What’ve you done now?” she asked, because only Alex would be calling her at such a ridiculous hour.

  “Miss Megan, you’d better come.”

  “Chambliss?” Alex’s butler never called her. Suddenly, Megan wasn’t sleepy at all. Her wolf went on high alert.

  “He’s all right,” Chambliss hastened to say. “But he’s been shot, and he came in with two other people, one of whom is terribly injured.”

  “Shot?” she squeaked. Hair sprouted on her shoulders and stood on end, and she felt herself hyperventilating. Between the alcohol abuse and the adrenaline addiction, Alex was an accident magnet, but he’d never been shot before. “Shot where? Who shot him? Chambliss—”

  “Miss Megan.” His voice was firm. “Master Alex is all right. He’s out of surgery and he’ll be fine.”

  Chambliss was an expert at soft-pedaling Alex’s injuries, but he wouldn’t outright lie, so Megan swallowed hard and made the fur go back where it belonged. “Okay. Okay.” More breathing. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. You’re sure he’ll be all right?”

  “Doctor Allen said he’ll make a full recovery.”

  “You called Doc Allen in?” Her muzzle lengthened, and she had to fight the wolf back yet again. They only called Doc Allen for dire emergencies, because he was the best in the business and was discreet enough to make house calls and keep his mouth shut. She’d assumed “shot” meant in the arm or something relatively minor, maybe a graze. If they’d called Allen …

  “Not for Master Alex, originally; it was for the other young man.” Chambliss hesitated. “Miss Megan, I’d rather not go into details over the phone.”

  “I understand. I’m on my way.” Hanging up, she swung out of bed, briefly considered changing into actual clothes instead of the flannel frog-patterned pajama bottoms and oversized white T-shirt she slept in, and rejected the notion in favor of speed. She slipped into a pair of loafers and broke several traffic laws on her way over to Alex’s mansion.

  Chambliss opened the front door before she even got all the way up the steps. He looked exhausted, and she understood why when he explained that Alex had been shot in the back over two hours before—which really ticked her off.

  “Why didn’t you call me sooner?” she demanded.

  “It didn’t seem necessary before we had any news.” Even as the words left his mouth, he seemed to realize that the excuse wouldn’t fly. “Just because the rest of us weren’t getting any sleep didn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

  “Dammit, Chambliss. Any time something like this happens, you call me immediately.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded wearily, and she dialed down her anger, putting a hand on his arm. Alex inspired a fanatic level of loyalty in what was ostensibly hired help but in practice was far more close-knit than that, and she understood the impulse to protect him.

  “Look,” she said. “This little family of retainers? You and me, Jeremy and Phelps? We’re all he has. We need to stick together and support each other. Right?”

  His shoulders slumped. “Right, miss.”

  “Why don’t you show me who else is here? You mentioned someone’s hurt?” They started walking.

  “Remember the private detective firm Master Alex hired the other day to investigate some industrial espionage for him? One of their employees was abducted two days ago, and the kidnappers returned him this evening.”

  Megan realized that she could smell blood—a lot of blood, and, while some of it belonged to Alex, most of it didn’t. The wolf alerted, and Megan tamped her down. So much for a quiet evening at home.

  They stepped into the yellow guest room, and the blood smell hit her like a physical blow. She staggered, and Chambliss steadied her with a hand on her back. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” she gasped. “Just … out of bed too early, I guess.” She was used to making excuses for when her senses overwhelmed her, and this was only another in a long line.

  She’d met Janni Miller before, of course, when Janni’s mother had handed off the case before taking a long-awaited trip to Australia. Janni had struck her as being hyper-competent and pretty well put together, but she was a wreck right now, although she was doing her best to hide it. The inner wolf growled, protective instincts coming to the fore but with no target to focus against, and Megan, once again, had to shove her back. Later, she promised. Later, we’ll go out for a run.

  Janni’s damp hair was curled into tight kinks and disheveled. She was dressed in Alex’s clothes—sweat pants and his Cal Poly tank top. Her hand it with blood at the same time stroked the blond hair of the man under the covers, sleeping on his side with his head pillowed on her leg. His face was a mess of cuts and bruises.

  “Janni? What happened?” Megan asked.

  “Ben works for my mom. They took him a couple of days ago.” Janni inhaled a shaking breath. “They sent him back like this, and they called me to come get him. His back is shredded, and he’s hurt other places, broken ribs and such.” Janni’s head bowed for a moment. “He’s better than he was. Managed a shower earlier, which came with its own brand of fun. I guess whatever tech the doc used speeds healing.”

  Megan ran her hands through her hair. “Do we know who? Have you called the police?”

  “Not yet.” Janni rubbed her forehead. “I wanted more information before bringing the authorities in. It definitely has something to do with this case, though, since Alex’s name came up.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know.” Janni bent over Ben. “Go see your boss. He’ll want you to be there when he wakes up.”

  Megan hesitated at the door. “Is Doc Allen still here?”

  “Last I heard he was finishing up with Alex.”

  “Hang in there, Janni.”

  Her brow lowered. “Oh, I’m ready to hang someone, all right.”

  On that cheerful note, Megan met Chambliss outside the room, and he escorted her into the elevator and down the long, long hallway to Alex’s bedroom. She could smell his blood way before they arrived, and while Ben’s blood had sent the wolf into high alert, Alex’s sent her into full-on bristling attack mode—with nothing to attack.

  Chambliss noticed her tension. “Miss Megan, he’s going to be fine,” he reminded her.

  She swallowed, and now she could taste the blood, too. “I know.” Her voice was husky. “Chambliss, you look worn out. Go to bed. I’ll take over from here.”

  “Yes, miss. I’ll see you in the morning.” He gave her a slight bow and left.

  Megan grasped the doorknob, waited a second, and entered the room. Doc Allen was sprawled in the easy chair next to the sliding door to the balcony, and he waved a languid hand, which held an unlit cigarette. “Before you ask, it wasn’t my idea to wait to call you on this, and, yes, he’s going to be okay. Your boss is a very lucky man. His driver saved his life by getting him here in time for me to be able to do anything for him.”

  Megan made a mental note to do something nice for Phelps, who’d pulled Alex’s bacon out of the fire nearly as much as she had. “Where was he shot?”

  “Looks like it was a jacketed round, so it went through and out without mushrooming, which was another fortunate thing. It entered above his shoulder blade and exited between the bottom two ribs on the right side, collapsing his lung and filling it with blood at the same time. I’ve re-inflated the lung, suctioned the blood, sewn him up, and injected a shitload of nanotech. The rest is up to him. Make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”

  She snorted. The fact that she could do that meant she was relieved by the news. “You know him.”

  “Sadly, yes.” Doc Allen rose to his feet. “I’m going to smoke a cigarette and crash in a guest room. Call me if ther
e’s a change for the worse.”

  “Will do.” She kicked her shoes off, sat cross-legged on the bed, and settled in to wait.

  Chapter Three

  Alex woke up in his own bed, the ache in his chest mitigated pretty handily by whatever painkillers they’d given him. And he could breathe again.

  Megan sat on top of the comforter in a pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt—she looked equal parts tired, concerned, and pissed off. He cringed. “Please don’t go to Hawaii?”

  “Pissed off” seemed to be winning. “You know, if you weren’t so good at putting yourself where you’re eventually going to die, I’d kill you myself,” she said. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  A slight shrug. “That I can’t resist a damsel in distress?”

  “You’re not bulletproof, Alex!” She took a deep gulp of air and put her face in her hands.

  He was startled. “Hey.” He hesitated a second before putting his hand on her knee and rubbing it with his thumb. “Hey, Megan. Totally not my fault this time. I had no idea someone with a gun was in the area; Janni looked like she needed help.”

  “And it’s just like you to go off half-cocked with no backup and not even let anyone know where you are …”

  “That is so not true. I was with Phelps.” What would have happened had the sniper shot Phelps didn’t bear thinking about. So he didn’t.

  “I got a call from Chambliss at three in the morning, after Doc Allen got done with you! You thoughtless, idiotic beast.” Her whole body was trembling.

  “He probably just didn’t want you to worry.” That sounded like a lame excuse even to Alex, who was the undisputed king of lame excuses, and he vowed to have a private word with Chambliss later.

  He struggled up into a sitting position and pulled her into a hug, stroking the blonde hair cascading down her back and wondering how long she’d let him get away with this.

  She grabbed his shirt and pounded his chest—fortunately, the left, uninjured side—once. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” she said, her voice muffled into his shoulder. “And this time there are other people involved. Did you see Ben? That poor son of a bitch. And Janni is a wreck.”

  “How’s he doing?” Alex still wasn’t clear on how Ben was involved in this thing.

  “He’ll be okay.” She shoved away from him, and he let her go. “What’s going on, Alex? I got a little out of Janni, but not much.”

  He shrugged. “I asked her mom’s PI firm to look into some things, but you knew that. Where are they?”

  “The yellow guest room.”

  “All right. Janni was working the case tonight; let’s find out what she’s got for me and see what we can do about it. But we should stop off in the kitchen first, because I’m starving and Ben will be, too.” Alex levered himself off the bed and nearly tipped right over before Megan scrambled to get a shoulder under him, easing him back down.

  “You know, for a certified genius, you’re such an idiot. You nearly died less than four hours ago, Alex. Use some sense.” She pointed at a wheelchair someone had placed beside the bed.

  “What, no, screw that. I can walk. It’s just up the hall.”

  “It’s fifty feet up the hall and down three levels. Why you need such a big house—” Megan got in his face, back to being pissed off. “Get in the chair, or I let you fall flat on your ass next time.”

  She wouldn’t … Okay, maybe she would, because, upon a closer look, her eyebrows were lower than usual and her lips were tight and bloodless. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, defeated, and let her help him into the chair. She wheeled him deftly to the elevator, and they entered the kitchen a couple of minutes later.

  Alex motioned toward a cabinet beside the fridge, one of those extra-large, double-wide doored models preferred by those who loved to entertain large groups or just wealthy enough to afford it. “That cabinet right there, the protein and wheat-grass shake mix.”

  Megan grimaced but nevertheless got it out and dumped the powder, along with some milk and a dubious-looking banana, into the blender on the counter just below. “I can’t believe you drink this nasty sludge. Real food, Alex. Look into it.” As the blender whirred, she opened another cupboard behind him, above the island that split the room in half, and pulled out two drinking glasses, setting them on the counter next to the blender.

  “Make enough for Ben, too,” Alex instructed. “It’s the fastest way to mainline nutrition, and he’ll need it.”

  Megan dumped the resulting “sludge” into a couple of glasses and handed them to him. He drank about half of his on the way the yellow guest room and felt immediately better.

  Alex tapped on the door and pushed it open upon Janni’s invitation, and Megan remained standing behind him after wheeling him into the room, leaning on the back of the chair.

  “Mr. Jarrett,” Janni said. Her hand stroked Ben’s hair, and her eyes were puffy.

  “Ms. Miller. How is he?” Alex nodded at Ben, who slept on his side, his head pillowed on Janni’s lap.

  “Resting comfortably. Actually sleeping, now.” A muscle in Janni’s jaw jumped. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Ben has a desk job at the firm, mostly. He went for milk. He shouldn’t be a target like this.”

  No, he shouldn’t. Alex clenched his teeth. He really did not like when people, especially his people, got hurt on his behalf. “You get a line on them?”

  “Apparently,” Janni said. “Although I didn’t know I was this close.”

  Alex crossed his arms. “Well, now we do.”

  “Only sort of—we still don’t have specifics. And that’s a problem.”

  “Yeah. This has an odd tone.” Alex ran his hand over his goatee. “Honestly, I thought it might be terrorists at first.”

  “Wait, you sent us after terrorists? What the hell, why didn’t you call the FBI?” Janni said, fisting her hand in Ben’s hair.

  “Hey, I’d like to keep some of that,” Ben said.

  She released him abruptly. “Oh, you’re awake again. Did I hurt you?”

  One side of his mouth turned up. “The magic of oxycontin, honey. Can’t feel a thing.”

  “Liar.”

  “Okay, yes, I’m in a ridiculous amount of pain. Are you going to kiss it and make it better?”

  “Why don’t you banter with me like that?” Alex asked Megan out of the corner of his mouth, over his shoulder.

  “Because I’m your personal assistant and not your girlfriend,” she shot back. “Also, because more often than not you put yourself in situations where you’re likely to get hurt, so you deserve your pain. Ben didn’t do that.”

  “This time,” Janni said.

  “Hey, you know this business is dangerous.” Ben tried to sit up, failed, and sank back down, wincing.

  Janni’s forehead creased, and her hand went back to roaming through his hair. “No, this business is supposed to be boring,” she said. “If it’s this exciting, we’re doing something wrong.”

  “Or you did something right,” Alex answered. “At least we know we’re on the right track.”

  “We? Screw that ‘we’ shit, Alex.” Janni made a circle with her forefinger in the air. “We are out. We do not need this. We are going home as soon as we can move Ben.”

  “I’ll quintuple your fee,” Alex offered.

  “It isn’t about the money—”

  “Honey …” Ben interrupted.

  “No, Ben. Dammit, look at yourself! These people are playing for keeps. And Alex Jarrett can’t protect you, or any of us.” She glared at Alex. “Especially not from a friggin’ wheelchair.”

  “Not twenty-four/seven,” Alex admitted. “But you’re safe in here. The entire house can be locked down if need be, and you’re free to stay until we get this straightened out.” His brow lowered. “And we will get it straightened out. Sooner rather than later. I play for keeps, too.”

  Janni crossed her arms and glared. “Well, you’d better quit playing and get serious.”

  “
Fine. What’ve you got for me?”

  “I’d just gotten a nibble that it was Ostheim before they took Ben. He’s been working the tech angle, and I’ve been pounding pavement asking questions.”

  “The people who worked me over wore Ostheim Industries shirts,” Ben said. “Subtle, they were not.”

  A corner of Janni’s mouth turned down. “How long will you be laid up for, Alex, and how quick can we move on this?”

  “Doc Allen already hit us pretty hard with the nanotech, but Mike Reed in that division of my company’s got some interesting breakthroughs going there. Let me give him a call.” Alex was relieved at how they’d apparently just skated over Janni quitting. He really didn’t want to start over.

  “Mr. Jarrett, you realize that it’s five o’clock in the morning,” Megan said.

  “Yeah, so? It’s not like Reed sleeps.”

  Megan smacked him on the back of the head, and he turned around and gave her his best kicked-puppy expression. “Hey!” he protested. “What, he doesn’t.”

  She glared at him, unfazed. She’d caught him practicing that look in the mirror in the past. “Wait a couple of hours. For heaven’s sake.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “Janni, let’s you and me run some of your info through the computer and see what we can hack.”

  “Hacking’s my department,” Ben said. “Got a laptop?”

  “Ben, you shouldn’t—” Janni started.

  “Honey. I’m fine. I will be finer with something to do. Laptop, now.” His hand went to his face. “Crap. Do you happen to have my spare glasses?”

  “Always.” Janni reached over to her clutch, which sat on the bedside table. “I wish you’d stop losing them.”

  “Hey! Not my fault this time.” He gestured. His lips were split in two places, and cuts and bruises decorated his eyebrows and cheekbone, although they were fading. “I’m still picking shards of the pair I was wearing out of my face. Man, I hate sap gloves.”

  Janni flinched and fished around in her purse, coming out with a pair of round wire-rimmed glasses. “Sorry. But give them back when you get home.”