by Vella Day
Kurt was already waiting outside. She dashed out and closed the front door, not sure if it locked. He started the engine and had seemed so anxious, she feared he’d leave her if she didn’t hurry.
Once she sat in the front seat and closed the door, Kurt took off.
“How do you know where he is?” Their conversation had been too short.
“I don’t.” At the end of the drive, he stopped and punched a few buttons on his phone. He handed his cell to her. “His GPS is active. Help me navigate to the spot.”
Able to help, her fear dissipated somewhat. “Did he say anything else?”
“No.” That no wasn’t a request for further questions.
She kept quiet for thirty minutes before her curiosity, or perhaps her desperation, got the best of her. “I thought you guys healed really fast.” She’d seen it with her own eyes.
“Not if he’s been shot.”
Oh, no. She remembered how sick to her stomach she’d been, and apparently the poison didn’t affect her nearly as much as it would a werewolf. “Can’t we get the antidote?”
“Once I find him, I’ll call Dr. Deland.”
She recalled the man didn’t have regular eight to five hours and suspected he was on call for all members of the Pack.
She glanced down at the GPS. “Take the next turn to get on I-75 and head north.”
He did as she directed.
“Where was he today? What was he doing?” Chelsea hoped he didn’t give her the same B.S. about her not needing to know. This was Drake’s life they were talking about.
“Mendez, under Harvey Couch’s direction, runs a drug smuggling business. They’ve been able to keep under the DEA’s radar for a long time, but my brother was able to go undercover. He was a mule for a while in order to gain Mendez’s trust.”
Jeffrey sure had her fooled. “Something happened to that trust. Didn’t it?”
“Yes, but Mendez killed Jeffrey before we found out. I discovered the location of the warehouse of the drug smuggling operation at my brother’s condo.”
She put the pieces together. “You tried to apprehend him yourself?” She failed to keep the panic from her tone. Kurt could get killed going up against those men. Oh, shit. “If you were taken off the case, is that what Drake’s doing?”
He nodded to the phone. “I’m guessing we’re heading to Gulfside?”
She shrunk the screen size. “Yes, but he’s a little south of there.”
“I’m hoping he’s in his car and not in Mendez’s custody.” He slammed the wheel. “I need to stash you somewhere.”
“No. Let’s get close to the spot. If it’s coming from a building, then I’ll stay hidden, but if he’s in his car, you need to take me with you.”
“I don’t like it.”
Too damn bad. “Now finish your story about Drake.” It would give them both something to think about while he drove.
“Drake is a computer technical genius. All he was supposed to do was go into the warehouse when the place was empty, plant some bugs, and hack into their computers.”
Was that all? “I’m guessing he got caught.”
“Seems so.”
For the next few minutes, she retreated to a happier place. She pictured Drake laughing and goofing around. She also remembered what an amazing lover he’d been until he became too excited and withdrew. Once he explained about the werewolf mating process, she decided he hadn’t been a jerk. Out of his comfort zone, he’d been a man who panicked, rather than one who didn’t care about her release.
The dot on the GPS indicated they were getting close. “Take the next exit.”
Once Kurt turned off, they appeared to be in the Florida boonies. There was a fruit stand situated at the end of a gas station, and that was it. She didn’t see any stoplights or other buildings.
“He should be close.”
Kurt slowed. It was dark, which made it hard to see a car on the side of the road.
“Take the next right. Drake should be there.”
Instead of turning, he passed the road. “I’m not taking any chances. It could be an ambush.”
Her heart nearly stopped. “You think they’d use Drake to kill me?”
He glanced over at her. “Yes.”
She slunk back in the seat. Her pits dampened and tingles raced to her fingers. He took the next right, which was a good half-mile farther down the road. Immediately, he pulled off to the side.
He faced her. “Get in the driver’s seat. You got your phone?”
“Yes.”
He removed his phone from her hand. “Wait here. If anyone approaches, leave. Don’t worry about me.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I plan to shift and come in from behind. If it really is just Drake in his car and the area is secure, I’ll call you, and you can meet us.”
“That works for me.”
He leaned over and kissed her. “Be careful.”
The bottled-up tension flowed out of her body. “You’re the one who needs to be careful.”
He pushed the door open and was gone in a flash. She slid over to the driver’s side and made sure the doors were locked. She turned off the headlights and leaned back for the long wait.
#
Kurt was scared. Drake should have been able to answer. He pictured him surrounded by ten men who were beating him senseless. By having Drake call, these men would know Kurt would come.
He shifted and headed into the underbrush. The thick growth made moving difficult. As he headed toward Drake’s location, he kept his focus, trying to sense other shifters. Even if Mendez’s clowns weren’t surrounding Drake, they could be headed toward Chelsea. Fuck. How could he be so dumb? He stilled and shifted back into human form. He pulled his cell from his pocket and texted her, not wanting his voice to carry.
Not at Drake’s location yet. Drive one mile west then turn around. Await further instruction. Don’t stop for anything. He put his phone on vibrate. He didn’t need her to call and give away his presence.
Knowing Chelsea, she’d come back with some snarky response. Envisioning her starting the car and carefully driving away relaxed his muscles.
His phone lit up. Will do.
While relieved, he’d almost hoped she’d come back with a why. That would let him know she more or less was calm.
If he wasn’t convinced he’d make better progress through this swamp as a wolf, he would have stayed a human. Once more, his bones cracked and his body bent and stretched as he changed form. Soon, he was a wolf once more. Here goes.
The branches snapped and crackled as he foraged through the underbrush. Only a few tree breaks existed where he could let loose and run. As he neared the edge, he spotted Drake’s car. Adrenaline shot through his system. Be careful. The interior lights were off and he didn’t see anyone in the car.
To be sure, he darted across the road, mostly to smell the area to make sure no one else was there. When he was convinced Drake had eluded Mendez’s men, Kurt shifted, hopefully for the last time, and crossed the road. No vehicles were visible. There were some homes down the road, but he and Drake seemed alone for the moment.
When he looked in the window, Drake was lying on his side. Blood covered his back and rear. His heart screamed. If his best friend was dead, he wasn’t sure he could go on. He was still reeling from Jeffrey’s death.
He checked the door. It was open. Good.
“Drake?”
He shook his friend and received a low grunt in response. His pulse slowed. First things first. He called Roger Deland, who answered on the second ring.
“Kurt? Something wrong?”
He relayed Drake’s injury the best he could.
“Can you bring him to the office?”
“Yes. Give me twenty minutes.”
“Good. I’ll be waiting with the antidote.”
Kurt rushed to the other side and slid Drake to the passenger side. He went back to the driver’s side and got in, knowing he was abou
t to get drenched in blood. Next he called Chelsea.
“Yes?”
“I found him. He’s injured. I’m heading out onto the road and will pull over on the east side. Come up behind me and follow me to the doctor’s.”
“Okay.”
He disconnected, not having time for further explanation. He arrived at the intersection, crossed the road, and pulled over to wait for Chelsea. Drake groaned.
Kurt placed a hand on his back. “I got you. Just rest. We’ll get the antidote in a few minutes.”
Drake lifted one finger. If that was probably the best he could do, his best friend was in seriously bad shape.
Headlights reflected off his mirror. When his vehicle pulled behind him, he took off. Chelsea had been to the doctor’s house before, but he doubted she would remember the way, so he was careful not to lose her. He drove only slightly above the speed limit and made certain she was able to keep up. He was proud of her for staying cool under pressure.
As they neared Gulfside, traffic increased and he was forced to slow. It took a few more minutes than he’d anticipated, but he parked in front of the doctor’s office and Chelsea came in right behind him.
Before he got out, she was at his door. “How is—oh, my God.”
He didn’t need her to get in the way. “Go knock on the door and tell Roger we’re here.”
She took one more look at Drake’s bloody body and took off. Roger must have sensed they’d arrived, because he came out and wheeled the gurney down the ramp off the side of the porch. Between the three of them, they got Drake inside.
“I need him in the examination room.”
Deland didn’t ask Chelsea to stay in the waiting room, which had been wise, because she would have insisted she be at Drake’s side. She had just as much interest in his buddy surviving as he did.
She came up next to him. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”
He had streaks of blood over his back and rear. “It’s Drake’s blood.”
“How is he? Really?”
“Alive.”
Once he telepathed that Chelsea was now part of their equation, the three of them stripped Drake in a few seconds. Even before Roger cleaned his nasty wound, the doctor gave him two injections of the antidote.
Chelsea pressed her lips together and placed a hand on Kurt’s arm. Even her light touch sent his hormones into overdrive.
“Why can’t you keep a few doses at home so you don’t have to bother the good doctor here every time you get in a fight?”
Roger picked up some wipes and went to work cleaning up Drake. “How would I make any money, little lady, if I gave away my golden serum?”
Her mouth cracked open, and Kurt felt sorry for her. “That’s not true. The dosage has a short shelf life. Roger makes the serum each time. It takes a lot of connections to even get the powder he mixes with the liquid to form the antidote.”
“Oh.”
He hoped by the time Deland stitched up Drake’s ass, the drug would counteract the poison. Some of the scratches had already begun to heal, which was a good sign. If Drake had been able to shift, he would have healed faster.
“All done.” Deland placed a sterile pad on top, then looked over at Chelsea. “How about I check whether your stitches are ready to come out?”
“Yes, please. They itch.”
Deland chuckled. “That’s a good sign.”
If she was uncomfortable lifting her shirt, she didn’t show it. But boy, her sexy pink bra sure got his cock hard fast.
The doctor carefully pulled out the stitches and she only winced once. After he cleaned the area, he placed a bandage on top. By tomorrow, you should be good to go.”
“Thanks.” Although she smiled at Deland, worry pooled in her eyes.
It was clear Drake had already made a special dent in her heart.
Kurt glanced at Deland and nodded at Drake. “He’s not responding. Is something else wrong?”
“No, he needs rest and some tender loving care.” The man glanced at Chelsea.
Her cute little face pinkened.
Help me get him into the car, okay? Kurt telepathed.
Sure.
Drake remained on the gurney while Kurt checked the surrounding area. When he spotted no danger, they wheeled their patient outside. Once they put him in the backseat of Kurt’s car, he turned and faced the doctor. He pulled out his wallet and paid Deland.
“You mind if we leave Drake’s car here for a few days? I’d feel better if Chelsea sat with Drake. We’ve got an hour’s drive back to the house.”
Deland knew they had another home, but he didn’t know where.
“Sure, but you might want to leave the windows open to air it out.”
“Good idea.” Not only did he leave the windows cracked, he left the doors unlocked. “Mind holding on to the keys? I’ll send someone to detail the car.”
“No problem.”
Chelsea climbed in the backseat while he slid in the front. She sat at Drake’s head, lifted it, and placed it on her lap.
The next two days would be touch and go, but Drake would pull through. He had to. Kurt hoped for all Drake had gone through, he’d succeeded in planting at least one bug.
Chapter Eleven
Drake roused from a fog and, as soon as he rolled over, an ache tripped up his spine. He groaned.
“Welcome back.”
That sweet voice had been rattling in his brain, and it actually sounded close. He cracked open an eye. “Hey. How did you get here?” He couldn’t remember much.
Her brows furrowed. “You’re back at the beach house.”
“That’s good.”
Memory of the fight surfaced. He had called Kurt, but the rest was a blur. He honestly thought he’d imagined most of it. With only a sheet covering him, he pressed up on his elbows and licked his lips.
“You want something to drink? Some water maybe?” Chelsea asked.
“How about a beer?”
She got off the bed. As gorgeous as she looked, her eyes were a little bloodshot and her clothes wrinkled.
“How long have I been here?”
“Since last night.”
“I’m guessing I got the antidote.”
“Yes. I’ll be right back.”
Drake figured Chelsea would confer with Kurt about mixing alcohol with the drug, but since Deland must have administered it last night, Kurt would assure her a beer was fine. Seconds later, they both came in. After a lecture, he got his desired drink. The first swallow was pure heaven.
To show them he was good, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Even though he didn’t see blood on his skin, he sure did smell. “I need a shower.”
Kurt scrunched his nose. “You got that right.”
Chelsea smiled. “I remember the first time you were in a fight and got blood all over you.”
“Darlin’, if you’re asking if I need help washing that would be a resounding yes.”
He might look fine, but it probably would take a little while before he’d be back to normal.
Kurt stepped closer. “Before you two get cozy, tell—”
“You can always join us.” Drake didn’t want Kurt to think he wasn’t invited.
“We have a killer to catch.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Tell me what you were able to accomplish.” He sat on the edge of the bed and waited.
Drake outlined how he’d gotten in the warehouse and that he’d downloaded a few files. “You got my backpack, right?”
“No. Where did you leave it?”
“In the trunk of my car.”
“Fuck.” Kurt turned.
Chelsea stood. “Where are you going?”
“To get the backpack. You stay with Drake.”
“You don’t want company?”
Drake plastered a hand over his heart and groaned. She immediately raced to him. When her mouth opened into that cute ‘O’ he so loved, he laughed. “Just testing.”
“Oooh, you.”<
br />
Kurt tapped the doorframe. “You stay with Drake. I’ll be back shortly. Chelsea, take it easy on him. Remember, he needs to heal, no matter how much he tries to tell you he’s good.”
She smiled. “Gotcha.”
“Fucktard!” And he’d been looking forward to seeing if lovemaking would make him better.
As soon as Kurt stepped out the door, he tossed Drake the finger.
“I saw that.”
It was all done in good fun.
“I really do need to shower.”
“I’ll help, but you heard Kurt. No sex.”
“Define sex.”
“Oh, no you don’t. You need to get better first.”
“Why?”
“You know why. So we can have more sex.”
She pulled her shirt off over her head and he whistled. “You came ready for action.”
“Stop it. It’s just a lacy bra.”
“Let me see if I like you without it as much as I like you with it.” He loved how his flirting made her laugh.
She stepped close then turned her back. “You want to do the honors?”
His cock now tented the sheet. If he didn’t get in the shower soon, he’d take her right there, stink or no stink. He stood and unhooked the back. He was tempted to slip his fingers around to her tits, but if he touched her even once, he’d not be able to stop.
His stupid mouth decided to open. “Turn around.”
She did, and his claws extended. He had to squeeze his eyes shut for a second before he focused on Mendez and the animals who attacked him. That diffused his sexual urges.
“Let’s get you washed,” Chelsea said.
Bare chested, she strutted into his bathroom. Naked, he walked right behind her, enjoying the way her hips swayed. God, she was something else. Every time he got near her, his body went crazy. Fortunately, last night’s rest had truly helped him heal. He didn’t remember ever sleeping so soundly. It was almost as if the doc had given him a sedative. Regardless, he was ready to go. He hoped Chelsea didn’t believe Kurt when he told her he needed more time to recuperate. He guessed he’d have to convince her.
#
Chelsea’s body vibrated with need and with the relief of knowing Drake was okay. He seemed so much better, but she’d decide how much he could handle once she examined his wounds herself.
