Wolf's Fall

by J. D. Tyler

  “Fine, but I expect some answers soon.”

  At least her brother cared, as Nick had pointed out. That was damned hard to remember when he stuck his nose into every aspect of her life. Without waiting for Tarron, she transported herself to the Pack’s compound, landing on the lawn again. Since she’d never been inside and didn’t know the layout, it seemed the safest bet.

  As Tarron appeared beside her, she looked around for anyone who might escort her to where she needed to go. She spotted Selene waving frantically from the back door and took off. As she stopped in front of Selene, she grabbed the woman’s hand, heart thumping.

  “Are they here yet?”

  Selene’s face was pinched, eyes red. “No, but they’re only minutes out. Come on—we’ll meet them at the new building. The hospital there has newer equipment and a much better setup than what we were using in the compound. That has to help Dad, right?”

  “I’m sure it will,” she said, hoping it was true.

  But the reality was, Nick’s team wouldn’t have called in Calla if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. If you’re a paranormal being and you need a vampire to save your life, you’re in serious trouble.

  She and Tarron followed Nick’s daughter to the new building she’d spoken of. Etched into the stonework itself was the word SANCTUARY. As they pushed through the glass doors and walked inside, she thought the name was fitting. Warm and inviting, this did indeed look like a place dedicated to helping others find peace.

  There was no time to appreciate their surroundings or the important work being done there, however. They got on an elevator and rode it to the hospital floor at the top, then got off. A team of doctors and nurses was waiting for the helicopter’s arrival, and none too patiently. A blond male nurse was pacing the hallway, clearly anxious. The second he spotted Selene, he trotted over to her.

  “Was anyone else injured?”

  “Phoenix is fine, Noah,” she said. “Dad was the only one seriously hurt.”

  Noah winced, appearing guilty. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . .”

  “No need to apologize. Believe me, I get it. I was worried about Zan, too. But you can’t let it get to you every single time they go out, or you’ll go nuts.”

  “I know, but it’s hard.” His voice was quiet.

  Was Noah mated to Phoenix? If not, the two were apparently close.

  “It gets harder. Trust me.”

  That made him chuckle. “Thanks. Your pep talks are the bombdiggity.”

  Before Selene could reply, a rumble from outside came closer and closer, until the sound was almost like thunder. It was right above them, and Calla realized the new building must have a helipad for emergencies such as this one. Everyone mobilized, and another nurse urged a protesting Selene, as well as Tarron, to a waiting room down the hall.

  “Come with us,” a female doctor said to Calla.

  She recognized the doctor from the party. Mackenzie Grant was mated to the Sorcerer/panther shifter Kalen Black. They had a cute new baby boy named Kai. Those facts rushed through her head, and she thought of how she’d been smiling and socializing with these people merely days ago. To be in the middle of a serious personal crisis of this sort with them now, especially involving Nick, was strange and disorienting.

  But there was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be when he required her help.

  The OR was ready when the trauma team filed in, every surface shiny and each instrument gleaming. They wouldn’t stay that way for long, though. Calla clasped her hands to stop their shaking while they waited. Soon, heavy footsteps came down the hallway, moving fast. She heard a gurney being pushed along, orders barked.

  And then several men from Nick’s team burst through the OR’s doors with their commander. She gasped at the horrible sight of his shirt and body armor soaked in blood, a gaping hole almost exactly centered in his chest. How could anyone survive a wound like that one? If he was human, he would’ve been dead already.

  Dr. Grant moved aside for another female doctor, who immediately took charge. This one had shorter, straighter hair than Mackenzie, but it still brushed her collar. DR. MELINA MALLORY, her tag read. Calla recalled meeting the prickly woman before also.

  Noah swiftly ran a tube down Nick’s throat so the respirator could breathe for him. Then he removed the commander’s vest and used a pair of scissors to cut his T-shirt up the middle. The ruined material was discarded and the nurse began to wipe the area. Dr. Mallory quickly assessed the damage.

  Wearing latex gloves and grabbing some sort of probe, she began to dig inside the wound, which made Calla’s stomach lurch dangerously.

  “Single gunshot wound, one punctured lung. The bullet is still lodged in there, close to his heart, so I’ll get that out before we attempt any healing.”

  Dr. Mallory’s voice was so cold and clinical, it made Calla shiver. But the woman seemed good at her job, and she took a small amount of comfort from that. She watched, barely breathing, as Nick fought for his life. And he was fighting, hard. She sensed that even though they weren’t Bonded, and it made her proud of him.

  After what seemed an eternity, yet was probably only a couple of minutes, the doctor fished out a large bloody bullet. “Silver,” she announced. “Those rotten bastards.”

  Calla couldn’t agree more. Noah held out a container and the doctor placed the bullet in it.

  Noah sealed the container and held it up. “Rush it to the lab for tests?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t like the looks of this tissue around where the bullet was sitting. It’s dying too quickly.”

  Calla’s hand went over her mouth. Only her desire to see Nick get well prevented her from running from the room. “My blood can’t heal flesh that’s already dead.”

  The doctor gave her a sharp look. “Of course not. I’m going to clean away the necrotized tissue first.” Dr. Mallory continued her work, completely focused. Once she was done, she stepped back and nodded to Calla. “All right. Let’s get some of your blood into him and speed along his recovery.”

  On shaking legs, she stepped up to the gurney and peered down at Nick’s chest. Cleaned up, the wound didn’t gape quite as much as she’d first believed, but then again, perhaps it had started healing now that the silver had been removed. In any case, he needed help. He was pale from blood loss.

  Noah offered to make the cut on her wrist with a scalpel. “It’ll hurt less than using your fangs or something.”

  She nodded and allowed him to execute the cut, then quickly held her wrist over the commander’s chest and let the life-giving fluid flow into the wound. The effects were immediate. The ragged flesh began to return to a healthy pink, and slowly knitted together from the inside out. Nick’s face was still pale, his body still, but the worry that he’d die gradually drained away.

  “Thank you,” she said to whatever power had kept him alive until he got here.

  Noah laid a hand on her arm, and gave her an understanding smile. “Why don’t you wait down the hall with your brother while we finish up and get him situated in a room? I promise someone will come and get you as soon as possible.”

  It really wasn’t a request. Now that the danger was past, they needed her out of the way. Reluctantly she agreed and, after taking one last look at Nick to reassure herself he was breathing, walked to the waiting room.

  Tarron stood the instant she went inside. “How is he?”

  Her voice trembled as the adrenaline left in a rush and reality set in. “He’ll be okay. We almost lost him.”

  “‘We’?” Never one to miss a thing, her brother arched a brow. “He’s a friend, but he’s not part of our coven, Calla. Why ‘we’? Who is Nick to you?”

  She looked around the waiting area. “Where’s Nick’s daughter?”

  “Her mate came for her and he insisted on taking her for a walk to calm her nerves. Now, tell me what’s going on.”

  “Selene and Zan won’t have gone far. This isn’t really the time or place to—”

 
“Sit down. We’re going to finish that discussion we didn’t have time for earlier, and you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on.”

  She knew that he loved her, and that he meant well. But right now he was taking the high-handed attitude of a ruler instead of the gentle caring of her brother. It seriously pissed her off.

  “No,” she said coolly. “I’m not. Frankly, there isn’t much to tell at the moment, and even if there were, my relationship with Nick is none of your business.”

  Of course, he pounced on her slip. “So there is a relationship.” He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Damn, you never do anything by half.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She glared at him.

  “He’s a wolf, sis. They’re totally different from us, and I don’t mean that in an elitist way before you accuse me of that.” He waved a hand to indicate the entire hospital, perhaps the whole compound. “They’re warriors. They live dangerous lives, twenty-four/seven. Is this what you want for the rest of eternity? Constant terror for a man who might never come home?”

  “Stefano was a quiet, cultured man who lived a peaceful existence,” she said quietly. “But that didn’t exactly save him from the hunters, did it?”

  Her brother sucked in a breath as though she’d punched him. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you.”

  “I know.” Her anger subsided and her heart swelled with love for him. Still, she had to be firm or he’d pry until he wormed the truth from her before she was ready to talk. “Worry all you want, but trust me, will you? Let me work things out for myself and then I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

  “Just don’t shut me out, please. That’s all I ask.”

  “I wouldn’t, unless you forced me to.”

  He opened his arms and she walked into them, thankful their disagreement hadn’t turned into a bigger fight. She hated being at odds with someone she loved so much, especially Tarron.

  Selene returned with Zan, and Calla related that all had gone as well as it could with her father in the OR. The woman slumped with relief against her mate’s side and he put an arm around her, kissing her cheek.

  “I don’t know what I would do without him,” Selene said softly. “He and I have had a rough time getting reacquainted, but I can’t imagine him not being here.”

  “He told me a bit about it.” When Selene’s eyes widened, Calla thought maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut. “He didn’t go into all the details, just that he has a lot of regrets about the past. I know he’s in a great deal of pain.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Not in so many words, but his feelings were quite clear.” Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to reveal to Nick’s daughter and her mate that she’d discovered the commander thinking of shoving a dagger into his own heart to escape his agony—not just over his past, but also because of his recent ordeal.

  That would remain between him and Calla unless Nick chose to share it.

  Just then, Noah stuck his head in the door and addressed Selene. “We’ve got your dad in a room if you want to sit with him for a while.”

  “Yes! Thank you.”

  Zan hustled her from the room and Calla sat back with a sigh. It could be ages before she got in to see Nick, and it made her nerves coil in anxiety. Selene had every right to see him first, she reminded herself. Besides, if Calla acted more worried than a concerned friend, people would start asking questions she wasn’t ready to answer, as her brother had already done.

  After what seemed like hours, Selene returned and poked her head in the door, giving them a tired smile. “Dad’s resting. They said he’d probably sleep until the morning, but you’re welcome to see him if you’d like. You did save his life, after all.”

  “Thank you.” Calla stood. “I’d love to check on him before we have to go home.”

  “He’ll appreciate it when he wakes up. Just go down the hallway on the right, fourth room.”

  Taking Selene’s hand, Zan led her away. Calla stood, and looked at her brother, but he opted to wait for her. She was glad he was giving her time alone with Nick. Maybe some of what she’d said to her overprotective sibling had gotten through.

  At the doorway to Nick’s room, she paused and took a breath before pushing inside. The sight that greeted her was definitely not what she had expected.

  Instead of Nick, the man, lying on the bed, a huge white wolf was sprawled on the sheets, head on the pillow. She came to a halt, hand over her pounding heart, and stared. His fur was thick, as pure as the driven snow, not one other speck of color to be seen except for the black gumdrop nose on the end of his snout. She’d seen lion shifters with smaller paws. His head was big and so were his jaws, which looked strong enough to crush someone’s bones as though snapping a toothpick.

  Moving forward as quietly as possible, she took a seat beside the bed. Without a doubt, this wolf—Nick—could easily take down any opponent. And yet he looked so gentle, lying with his fluffy tail curled around his legs, snoring slightly.

  Tentatively, she reached out and stroked the top of his head. Then his ears. He gave a soft rumble of unmistakable pleasure and nosed into her hand in his sleep, seeking her touch. Wanting comfort. She gladly gave it, rubbing all over his face and ears, the scruff of his neck. He was simply majestic, and being able to touch him as a wolf was a privilege she figured few had been allowed.

  “Aren’t you beautiful?” she whispered. “I’ll bet shifting helps you heal, huh? Just sleep, Nick. I’ll stay for a bit, and then I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  The wolf let out a sigh, and slept on.

  He never knew when she rose later and reluctantly slipped from the room.

  * * *

  Nick came awake gradually, blinking, eyes adjusting to the gloom. The sun was apparently just coming up, and the room was so dim he couldn’t see where he was. Couldn’t think straight.

  It came back in snatches—the call to save the vampire coven from hunters. The Huey. Flying low, shooting.

  Being shot.

  He was alive then, if damned slow and stoned on whatever the doctors had pumped into him. Lifting his head, he saw white paws stretched in front of him. He didn’t remember shifting. That was good, though, since it would help him get back on his feet much faster.

  Just then, a sweet scent tickled his nose. It was faint, whomever it belonged to no longer around, but it drew him all the same. Instinctively he whined, snuffling the covers on one side of the bed to try to make out more of the delicious scent. It seemed to be on his fur as well.

  Both the man and the wolf knew the owner of it. Calla. She’d been here?

  He wanted her to come back. His wolf wanted to leap from the bed and track her down. The man had more restraint. Barely. Besides, his strength wasn’t up to par just yet.

  Concentrating, Nick focused on his human form and made the change. The transformation wasn’t quite as seamless as usual, and was a bit painful given his healing injury, but at least it was quick. Once the change was complete, he took stock of himself.

  Lifting his hand, he carefully explored the puckered scar on his chest, and frowned. The fucker who’d shot him must’ve used silver, so the scar might never totally disappear. However, while that pissed him off to a degree, he had more important things to worry about.

  As a distraction to said worries, the television mounted on the wall wasn’t much, but it would have to do until they sprung him. He spent a while flipping back and forth between Good Morning America and the Today show, and knew he’d reached a sad state when he found himself engrossed in a story about Miley Cyrus’s tongue and whether she’d donate it to science one day.

  “Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, shutting off the TV in disgust.

  “That bad?”

  His gaze jerked to the doorway, where Calla stood smiling at him. He sat up straighter, or tried. Still quite sore, he winced. “Worse. Thank God you’re here to save me, or I might have started with Jerry Springer next. I think th
ey’re discussing ticking internal clocks and exploding ovaries or something. Hell if I know.”

  She laughed, wrinkling her nose adorably. “Then it’s a good thing I arrived when I did.”

  He studied the vampire, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. She was gorgeous, as always, dark hair falling around her face and shoulders. A snug pink T-shirt with a V-neck emphasized her breasts, and nice jeans encased her long legs. She wore high-heeled strappy wedge sandals and her toes were painted to match her shirt.

  He’d like to get a closer look at those toes. While kissing his way up those long legs. His wolf rumbled in agreement, and he cleared his throat to mask the sound.

  “What have you got behind your back?” he asked, curious.

  “You caught me!” She was clearly delighted that he’d noticed, and came to sit by the bed. From behind her, she brought forth a square tin and thrust it at him. “For you.”

  “Me?” Taking the tin, he stared at it, then at Calla. “A present?”

  “Yep. Go on; open it.”

  “Nobody’s given me anything in ages.” Sad, but true. He didn’t think anyone even knew when his birthday was, except maybe Hammer.

  Eagerly, he pried open the lid, and inhaled with sheer bliss. “Holy shit! You brought me cookies? Chocolate chip and snickerdoodle, my favorites.”

  “I made them myself,” she said proudly, clearly happy that he liked his gift.

  Snatching a fat chocolate chip one, he took a large bite and moaned in ecstasy. “Mmm. Only thing better than this is sex.”

  “Very true. But the cookies will have to suffice, for now.” Her eyes sparkled with humor, and a lot of heat, if he wasn’t mistaken.

  He almost choked on his cookie. His dick made a valiant effort to express just how very on board he was with the idea, but his body was still healing and not quite ready for acrobatics. He was glad, because the last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself in front of this woman.

  Calla was special. A lady. He would treat her as no less.

  “These are wonderful. Have one?”

  “I already ate three before I came, but what the heck?” She took a snickerdoodle and joined him. After a moment, she said, “There’s another reason I came besides giving you cookies. Tarron’s having a party next weekend and I’m hoping you’ll come as my guest.”