Naomi shocked her again, taking a bit of relish out of the squeal. “Your name?”
“Patrice.” Nathan shook her. “Patrice Parda.” She glared at Naomi. “But you’re not the Lia. Not yet.” She hazarded another sneer at Naomi. “We don’t even know if you have the mark.”
“She has it,” Nathan assured her before shoving her toward the door. The wolven male stopped her with a hand on the shoulder as Nathan fired his last verbal volley. “A real queen doesn’t have to flaunt herself. She simply is.” He gave a small bow and a smile aimed for Diana. “Much like the Canis Matra.”
“This is your last warning, Patrice Parda.” Naomi made sure the words held a nice formal tone so that there would be no misunderstanding. “Get out of my sight. Leave the wolven territory without any more trouble.”
Patrice’s mouth dropped. “But I have a right…”
“No, you don’t.” Naomi told her with a possessive smile and a tilt of her head. “If I find you anywhere near the Leo, I will rip out your heart with my own claws.” And she would. “Is that in any way unclear?”
Patrice nodded as the wolven male shoved her out the door and gave her a push down the hall. “Carter! Make yourself useful and give the lady a ride out of the county.”
Diana led the way into the room, waving away her protector’s concern. “Enough, Chase. The doctor still has to look Matthew over and Naomi needs to change clothes.” In her other hand, she handed Naomi a bundle of clothing as she glanced hopefully at Matthew. “Has there been any change?”
“Not since this morning,” Nathan’s cheeky answer was met by both Diana and Naomi’s cool expressions. He mimed a zipped lip and retreated to the other side of the bed. “Shutting up now.”
Dr. Davidson approached the bed. An uncertain smile hovered on his graying and worn features. Setting a brown leather satchel by the bed, he had a wary, overwhelmed look of someone who had gotten much more than he bargained for. Bending down, he gingerly touched Matthew’s shoulder. When no sudden or violent response occurred and he continued his quiet repose, the doctor became bolder. From the satchel, he removed a stethoscope and listened to Matthew’s heart. Peered into his eyes and watched responses to a penlight before moving on to major orifices. He took a temperature reading with an electronic thermometer. He frowned staring at the readout. “His temp is reading at one hundred and nine. But I believe that is close to normal for supernaturals?” he glanced up at Naomi for conformation.
She nodded. “Yes, for shape shifters. I would imagine that vampires have a low body temp. Fairy kind, I have no idea.”
The doctor’s eyebrows rose nearly off his head. “Fairies?”
“Ha-ha,” Nathan grinned, before shooting him with a finger gun. “Gotcha, doc.” Distracted, the doctor laughed as Nathan gave a tiny shake of his head in Naomi’s direction. Uh-oh. Apparently, fairies were still in the proverbial closet. She faked a laugh, feeling a little bit of guilt at the doctor’s embarrassment for having fallen for her ‘joke’.
“Well, from my observations, I believe your friend is in a light coma while his body tries to heal itself.” He tapped his fingers on his cheek, deep in thought as his other hand grabbed the stethoscope still hooked around his neck. “All I have to go off of is what I’ve read, which isn’t much at all considering, well, that you are a separate species entirely.” he started himself out of his mental note taking. “Sorry. But there’s no injury that readily explains why he’s in this comatose state.”
“Doctor, you know why he’s out.” Nathan’s expression was pure, give me a break. “I’ve already explained that he transferred his magic and life energy so that Brandon could heal the damage to his heart.”
“That shouldn’t be possible.” Negated the older man. “And if I ever mentioned that magic part to my colleagues, I’d be laughed right out of my practice.”
“You’re right on both counts.” Nathan agreed. “But he did.”
“And you’re not going to explain the magic either, are you?” sighed the doctor as he unhooked the stethoscope and wound it around itself.
“Nope.” The werepanther grinned with unrepentant glee.
“You know, it would be very beneficial to have someone in the medical field on your side.” The doctor hedged, a glimmer of hope shone behind his glasses as he directed his comment to Naomi. Everyone, the wolven in the doorway, Nathan, and Diana seemed to wait for her answer.
“Have you picked a side Doctor Davidson? Or are you acting in devotion to your calling as a healer?”
Stalling as he put away the stethoscope and other equipment the human pondered her question. He looked up, meeting Naomi with more than a little respect. “You know, today it seems everything is about money. What makes you think I’m not the same?” Naomi stared the older man down. Her golden lioness eyes fixed on him with extreme calm and patience. The seconds ticked by. He sighed again and broke contact, covering up the movement by latching his satchel. “Oh. Alright. Give an old man a break. I’m a little tired of most of the complaints of my practice.” He seemed surprised at his revelation. “Don’t misunderstand me. I give my patients the very best care I can. I’ve been volunteering at clinics in low income areas to remind myself why I went to medical school in the first place.”
“There is no shame in wanting to make a difference in other lives.” Naomi touched his arm, angling her head as she considered the human. “It’s a commendable trait. I’m still not sure why you stopped to help or why you haven’t gotten in your car and driven as far away as possible. But I’ve learned to be thankful for the kindnesses given.” She glanced at the alpha female, not wanting to leave the wolven Pack out of her appreciation.
Diana gave a last look at Matthew, worry etched on her features. “We’re trying very hard to roll with the unexpected. But so much has happened…” She shook her head, dismissing whatever she would have said. The alpha’s eyes were full of determination when she met Naomi’s eyes again. “Why don’t you use the bathroom in the hall to freshen up? We’ll talk afterward.”
Naomi looked at Nathan. He gave her a thumbs-up, “I got it covered, my Lia.”
“Don’t you want to go home and get some of your own things?” Naomi clutched the bundle of clothes to her chest. Goodness, she’d be happy to wear real clothes again. He shook his head and backed up to lean against the wall.
Diana sat on the end of the bed. She smiled sadly at Naomi’s hesitation. “He’s my son.” That explained the wolven Pack’s willingness to help. There was a wealth of emotion and estrangement in her quiet words. “Have no fear, Naomi. I have no desire to hurt him.” She frowned and glanced at Nathan with a shade of resentment coloring her scent. “And if I did, I am certain that both of your devoted cats would step in.”
“I feel like I should be apologizing for something,” Naomi said. “But I am not sure what offense I’ve given.”
Diana’s expression turned darker. “It’s not you, my Lia,” Nathan interrupted. “It’s—”
Naomi felt the sudden energy surge and saw the sudden tensing of Nathan’s muscles. She felt a shadow of heat licking at a faint line of connection that she realized belonged to the panther. It reminded her of the line she’d felt between her and Matthew. And the brief moment of connection she’d felt to Brandon. Like before, she moved between the aggressor and her people, breaking Diana’s line of sight. Using that connection, she moved on instinct, surrounding Nathan with her own soothing energy while she sought the thread that bound her cat to the wolves. She found it. Thin and strong as titanium. Not easily broken.
Nathan grunted as another surge of energy assaulted him. Drawing on her reserves, Naomi let Diana think that she was about to attack. Instead of throwing another volley of energy through Nathan’s already overused magical connections, she slapped the energy over the connection, imagining a hard insulating cap that would protect him. Temporary, but doable until she could figure something else out.
Diana rose from the bed, psychic energy crackling arou
nd her as Naomi stepped closer to the door. She wanted Nathan to protect Matthew while she dealt with his crazy mother. Yet another reason why this wouldn’t work between them, she thought with a laugh. Naomi had barely tolerated her own mother’s rule. She felt the psychic energy build, a powerhouse that was similar to a very strong Change. This was going to be bad. Very, very bad.
Chapter Seventeen
Naomi hit the wall before she even realized she’d attained flight. Thankfully, the sheetrock gave and she sank into it, finally feeling the throb of the force that had hit her. Letting gravity take her to her feet, Naomi built another charge. The carpet snapped with static electricity as she rolled, taking only a partial hit from the next psychic blow. She grunted, her hip aching with the slap.
The bad thing about fighting a psychic or a witch, was their ability to shape and ‘throw’ power. Like any shape shifter, Naomi’s power was hands on. The use of it was only for the Change, except for the new trick she’d apparently inherited from her mother. Even still, she believed there had a connection to another either by Matthew’s link or direct touch.
Any of their kind could share minute amounts of power by touching and brushing against one another. It was a sign of affection and community. It was the reason shape shifters were so touchy-feelie with those that they liked. Naomi’s breath left in a painful rush as her chest was gripped in a vise. She shook her head against impending spots. Something had to be done soon, because she was not going to submit to the wolven Pack’s dominance.
Bunching her legs underneath, she pounced, wrapping her arms around Diana’s mid-section. The women went down together in a tangle of arms and legs. Around Naomi’s chest, the vice squeezed. She charged and spiked the power she held inside and felt a thrill of triumph as Diana squeaked at the shock. The vice faltered. Naomi shocked her again, then several times in succession before letting go and rolling away.
The first thing Naomi noticed, as she sucked in a sore breath and squinted her eyes against the ache in her head, was the amount of bare naked and hairy legs in the room. All of them male and some of them Changed. The amount of pre-Change magic hovering in the air was almost thick enough to swallow. A pale, scarred hand reached down into her vision. Naomi took it, letting the wolves see that Morrow was hers.
She felt possessive and protective of all her feline companions and wondered belatedly if they’d left Ramses behind in their haste to leave the scene of the shooting. Lifting her head she met the cold, blue eyes of the wolven Pack leader and she knew that whatever points she might have made with the Weis’ had been erased when she’d engaged their most respected female. However a bitch she might be.
“This was a mistake.” Adam Weis wasn’t referring to the fight. “My men will drop you off outside the county line.” With great care, the original wolven guard that was dressed in leather and a long braid, helped Diana up.
He frowned at his leader’s words, but said nothing. Naomi didn’t expect the wolven to take up for her and didn’t blame him. For the first time, she understood the complete loyalty that a Pack had to its own members. Outside of their birth families, that kind of unity was as an alien concept to the cat clans.
“There is no need,” Her priority now was to get her people out of here without further incident. Screw Matthew’s belongings. One of the hard lesson’s Naomi had learned in her two year captivity, was that things were replaceable. Your life was another matter. “We came with Dr. Davidson. We’ll leave with him as well.” She shot the doctor a dark look, knowing he’d object to moving his new patient.
Diana’s head stayed down, her face was hidden by the dark fall of her hair as she steadied herself on her guard wolf. A part of her hoped the woman was good and fried for her actions. Another, silly sentimental part of her felt sympathy for what she must be going through. Keeping the wolven leaders in her line of sight, Naomi squeezed Morrow’s fingers once before letting go. “Nathan, Morrow. You’ll have to carry him back out to the car,” she instructed.
“No,” Diana protested. She swayed and the movement spiked the aggression in the surrounding Pack. “You can’t take Matthew. He’s hurt.”
“Matthew Ridley is one of them,” stated Adam. His ice cold gaze gave no quarter as he looked at each of them in turn. “Anderson County is wolven Pack territory. I want all of the cats and other supernaturals out of our borders by dawn.” His gaze flicked to the guard supporting Diana. “Chase, make sure anyone not our official ally is gone by then. Make sure they understand the consequences of trespassing.” The male nodded, clearly not happy with the order.
Nathan waved Morrow away and bent, gathering the large Leo into his arms as if picking up a child. The balancing looked awkward, as Matthew was larger, but the werepanther managed. Morrow shadowed him, while Dr Davidson followed right behind his patient.
Diana reached out a hand as Nathan passed by. “Adam, no.” there were tears in her words, but not of regret. He crossed to her side, pulling her under his arm as he watched Naomi bring up the rear of the evicted cat contingent.
The fresh air felt wonderful on Naomi’s face after the walk through the house though Dr Davidson’s car looked smaller as she contemplated putting three full grown males, the doctor, and herself into it. If she closed her eyes, she imagined that she could feel a connection to every feline in a radius around her. Matthew, Morrow, Nathan, even Brandon and somewhere close by, Ramses.
They crowded into the car, Naomi shaking her head before the doctor could ask where they were going. Her fingers sank into Matthew’s hair again. His head rested in her lap and she studied the dark crescents of his lashes against the lean planes of his face. The car bumped down the graded driveway. Naomi looked out the windows, studying every mound of dirt and every tree as a potential ambush point.
She should have pointed out how stupid it was to go from one unwelcome wolven territory to another. Wolven did not play well with others. They were a close knit, insular group who rarely allowed newcomers of their own kind. She’d been so worried about Matthew’s health that she’d let Brandon’s belief that his Pack would help them become her own.
Feeling a measure of relief as they turned onto the highway from the driveway, she turned her thoughts to the wolven who was also cat. She wanted to be possessive of him too, just as Diana Weis had felt Nathan was the property of the wolven Pack. But unlike Diana, Naomi understood that the ultimate decision of their loyalty was Nathan’s and Brandon’s choice. Nathan’s choice was the way of Bastet. Brandon had been a wolf first, his family was the wolves. Naomi did not expect him to choose differently.
The werepanther’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “The fastest way is to turn right at the four way stop sign. That road will take us to highway seventy-nine. Turn right again and just keep driving until you reach Mexia.” He pronounced the town’s name with a local dialect, dropping the x, Mu-hey-uh. Finally, giving herself over to some badly needed rest, and lulled by the steady breathing of the man in her lap, she dropped off.
Chapter Eighteen
Calling himself the worst kind of coward, Bradley paced his room in the fairy realm. He’d seen her. With his own two eyes. The emotion of it tore at him, played havoc with the fading grief over his brother. Bradley stopped. Fading grief?
Could it be possible that whatever had happened to his brother had not managed to kill him? Bradley had been wrong before in thinking his twin dead. But then, those had been the days when they were at the mercy of the old Pack alpha, Garrick Moser. The sick bastard had done things, horrible things, to all of them, Brandon worst of all. His brother had come very close to death a couple of times at the hands of Garrick. One thing was for certain, he needed to know for sure.
He found Morgan in his garden. Tittering dryads stopped their silly conversation as they sensed Bradley’s mood and slipped like mist into their trees. They were a shy lot, standing out as ethereal and beautiful among fairy beauty. Yet, Bradley never had any desire to talk to them. Dryads were as simple and innocent as t
hey were lovely. He would go insane having to listen to a woman talk about flowers, nuts, and berries for hours on end.
Fairy dogs of all types, every single one of them small purse dwellers, tumbled and played hide and seek in the foliage of Morgan’s garden. The fairy lord himself was bent over with an archaic looking rake of shaped wood as he turned the rich dark soil. His clothes were a mix of human jeans and a fine fairy tunic that belted at the waist. On his feet were round toed western boots, no doubt made of all natural materials. Symbols that looked a lot like Celtic runes were stitched into the material, rather than the usual western designs. Long green hair was partially tied back. He stopped at Bradley’s approach and reached for a small pot made out of the dried out bottom section of a gourd. Inside was a small plant.
“You said Brandon did not need me.” It was as good a conversation opener as any. Bradley had little use for chitchat.
Morgan scooped some of the ground soil out, then carefully, as though handling a rare and expensive item, upended the small plant from its pot. “He did not need your help. How can you help him when you have no idea of what you need, yourself?” He set the plant into the hole, smoothing dirt into place. Morgan’s calm demeanor pissed him off.
“Need? I didn’t come here to be psychoanalyzed. I don’t need anything.”
“Then why are you here? I feel the presence of a dragon egg, but it is tainted by your blood. I cannot use it.” Bradley wanted to attack. It was hidden and he wasn’t giving it up. Part of him was glad that Morgan didn’t want it. His power surged, but the fact that he’d sold himself to the fairy’s services held him back. He could not attack, could not force himself to bring a hand against his so-called ‘master’. “I can use another hand.” Morgan gestured to the rest of the pots. “Finish up these.” He eyed Bradley’s jerky movements. “and do be careful. Every living thing should be treated with respect.”
Cat Scratch Fever; Blue-Collar Werewolves V Page 17
