Wes skimmed his finger on the scar Taylor had given him. He still didn’t understand what had happened, but touching it felt comforting, and Wes needed it.
He shuffled and peeked out again, jerking back when he saw the large group of men coming his way. He moved further back in the darkness of the alley and hoped they wouldn’t see him. Large groups were never a good thing, and Wes had a scar or two to prove that.
The group passed and he sighed in relief. He leaned against the wall just as someone appeared at the entrance of the alley.
“Hey, look what I found!” the man yelled, and Wes swore.
He walked quickly toward the other end of the alley, but without running. He could hear footsteps behind him, and voices, but he tried to ignore anything that wasn’t the safety in front of him.
“Hey! I’m talking to you, whore!”
Wes shook his head and walked on. Steps came closer, faster, and he ran, but a hand around his arm jerked him backward and he fell against a hard chest.
Two arms encircled his waist and he tried to free himself. He tightened his hand around the knife he kept in his pocket for these occasions, but he couldn’t take it out because the arms around him blocked him.
“Where’re you running? Shouldn’t you stay and ask if we want to fuck you?” the man holding him asked with a growl.
“Let me go.”
“Yeah, let him go,” another man said. “You might catch his gayness.”
The man holding Wes abruptly let go and Wes swung around, his hand still in his pocket. He’d wait to see how things went to take the knife out, but he could already see it was going to be bad. There were four men, so at least it wasn’t the entire group that had passed by the alley, but there were still too many for him to protect himself.
“What do you want?”
One of the men looked at Wes from head to toe and grimaced. “Are you sure it’s him? He doesn’t look like much.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I saw him the other night.”
Wes walked backward as slowly as he could, but they noticed it. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Home,” Wes answered, hoping his voice didn’t tremble too much. Showing fear would only push the men in front of him to attack that much more harshly.
“Home? Yeah, right. More like you’re going to find another fag to fuck you. How much do you take for it, huh? Or do you like it so much you do it for free?”
“Wonder if he could take all four of us.”
Two of the men looked at the one who’d just talked, and Wes took the opportunity to take another step backward.
“What?” the man asked.
“You’re a fag too, Ernie?”
“No!”
“Then why are you thinking about fucking him?”
“I’m not!”
“I think Ernie has a crush on fag boy.”
“I’m not a fag!”
“Prove it.”
Wes knew he was in trouble just with those words. How could the man prove he wasn’t gay if not by hitting him?
He turned around and ran for it, but he took only a few steps before he was wrenched backward again. This time he managed to get his knife out, and he slashed in the direction of the man holding him.
The man yelled and Wes was free, but a punch to the back of the head made his vision go white. He fell on his knees and whimpered at the double pain. He never let go of the knife, not even when someone kicked him in the stomach.
The blows didn’t stop coming—kicks, punches—but Wes lashed out anyway. He felt the knife hit something soft and sink in, and someone yelled in pain. He pulled the knife away and blinked away the tears in his eyes as he tried to hit the guy again.
He almost smiled when he did, and the knife sank again, but a kick on his arm made him lose the hold he had on it. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get it again, so he curled on himself and tried to protect his head as well as he could.
By the time the blows slowed, then stopped, his entire body was in pain.
“Guys, I need to go to the hospital,” one of the men whined.
There was another last kick to Wes’ back and he whimpered, tensing for the next one, but it didn’t come. He cracked open one eyelid, even though it hurt like fuck, and he watched as the men walked away. Two of them were holding up a third one, and the guy was limping. Wes had hurt him good, and he would have felt almost proud of it if he weren’t hurting so much.
He wanted to close his eye again and sleep, but he knew he’d die if he did that. Maybe he should, but something was telling him he couldn’t, because Taylor would be devastated if he died.
Wes snorted and whimpered in pain. Taylor probably wouldn’t care, but he didn’t want to die. His life might be crap, but it was a life.
He untucked himself as slowly as he could, tears of pain streaming down his face as he did so. When he tried to push himself up, his arms collapsed and he fell on his face. The pain was almost small compared to the rest of his body, and he closed his eyes.
He obviously wouldn’t be able to get up on his own, and he was too far in the alley to be seen from the main street. He opened his mouth and tried to call out, but the only thing that came out was a croak. “H-help. Please. Help.”
Wes tried to curl on himself again. The cold was sinking into his body, and it was taking away some of the pain. He knew he was slipping away, and he didn’t know what to do.
He moved and something dug in his thigh. His cell phone.
It was a long shot, but maybe...
Wes moved again, crying in pain, and pushed his hand in his pocket. He took his cell phone out and flipped it open, whimpering when he saw it still worked. The light hurt his eyes and he couldn’t see much, because one of them had swollen shut, but he had only a few numbers saved on it, so it wasn’t hard to find the one he was looking for.
He held his breath when he pressed the button that dialed the number and slowly put the phone next to his ear. He closed his eyes and shuddered, and even that small movement hurt.
“Who is this?” a strong voice answered.
“W-Wes.”
“Wes?”
“Club. You g-gave me your number. I need help. It h-hurts.”
“Where are you?”
“Club. Alley.”
Wes tried to tighten his fingers around his phone, but he couldn’t feel them anymore. It was actually an improvement, since he wasn’t in pain, but the phone slipped from his hand and clunked on the ground. Wes groaned and pressed the side of his face against the cold asphalt.
He tried to pick up the phone again, since he could hear Joshua screaming at him, but it hurt too much. He’d done what he could to make sure he’d be okay. Now he wanted to rest.
* * * *
Taylor’s phone rang ten minutes before his appointment with Dominic. He put his book down on his stomach, face down, and answered. “Yes?”
“Hi, it’s Keenan. Dominic’s waiting for you in his suite instead of his office.”
“Oh, okay. I could talk to him tomorrow if he’s too tired.” Anything to push the moment away.
“Yeah, no. He’ll be gone all tomorrow and the day after, too. Council business.”
“So it’s now or never.” Taylor wished he could go with never so much.
“Exactly. Are you going, then?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
“Great. I’ll let Dom know. And don’t worry, he won’t eat you. He already had dinner.” Keenan guffawed at his words and Taylor huffed.
“Way to reassure me.”
“Oh, stop worrying so much,” Keenan said between snickers. “I’m sure whatever you did isn’t as bad as you think, unless you killed someone or exposed the shifters to the humans.” Keenan paused. “You didn’t, right?”
“Umm, I have to go.”
“Taylor! What did you do?”
“Nothing. Bye.”
Taylor hung up even if he knew he’d
pay for it. Keenan would never let this offense pass, but at the moment it was the last thing Taylor cared about.
Taylor sighed and stuck the piece of paper he was using as a bookmark between the pages of his book, then put it on his bed. He’d just gotten to the next to last chapter, and the cop was about to find out who the killer was. Taylor hated having to put it down.
He got up and looked down at himself. He was wearing pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt, and he briefly considered whether he should change or not before deciding that he was fine like this. It had taken some time to get used to the fact that Dominic wasn’t particularly keen on having his pride members always well dressed. He was more of an as-long-as-you’re-not-naked-wear-what-you-want man, and Taylor loved it. He loved that Dominic considered the mansion every pride members’ home rather than him lending it to them for as long as they were in the pride.
Taylor put some socks on and headed out. Once in front of Dominic’s door he hesitated, but he knocked anyway. Might as well face the music so he could go back to bugging Isaiah to find Wes.
The door opened and Ani smiled up at him. He was in pajamas too, although his were rainbow colored while Taylor’s were a boring red plaid.
Taylor eyed them, wondering if the bright colors might make him go blind, and Ani noticed. He laughed and moved to the side to let Taylor in. “I’ll give you two guesses as to who gave me these as a Christmas present.”
“Why two guesses?”
“Because only two people could have done it.”
“Right. Keenan or Nysys.”
“So which one do you think?”
“I’ll go with Nysys. It looks like something he’d wear.”
Ani winked. “Got it in one. Come on, sit down. Dom’s changing out of his suit.”
“I hate suits.”
Ani and Taylor turned to look at their alpha, who also was in his pajamas, albeit more sedate than Ani’s. Taylor blinked. He really wasn’t used to this yet.
Dominic slumped on the couch and rubbed his hair with the towel he was holding. “So, what can I do for you? Keenan was all mysterious and shit and he didn’t tell me.”
“That’s because I didn’t tell him. I’m sorry to disturb you, though. I can come back another day if you’d rather rest.”
“Spit it out, Taylor.”
Taylor sat facing his alpha and rubbed his palms on his knees. “I went out with Darin last night. I wanted him to find someone, you know, but he decided to leave and I stayed. I’d drunk a bit, but not so much that I was completely smashed. Then I met my mate.” Taylor looked at the alpha and his mate, and they were both waiting for him to go on, so he nodded.
“Like I said, I had a bit to drink, and while I wasn’t exactly drunk, I wasn’t really sober either. So I convinced Wes to go to a hotel with me, and we, well, you don’t need to know what we did. Just that I kind of bit him while we were doing it, then I fell asleep and he was gone when I woke up.”
Taylor looked up to see that Ani was slightly gaping while Dominic was frowning.
“And?” the alpha asked.
“And he’s human and I don’t think he knows about shifters. And I don’t know his full name and I have no idea how to find him.”
Ani grimaced. “Jeesh, you don’t do things halfway.”
“I know.”
“You have no idea how to find him?” Dominic asked.
“No. I don’t have his name, or his phone number. The only way I can think to find him is to go back to the club, but it’s not a certainty.”
Dominic sighed and leaned his head back against the couch. “Have you talked to Isaiah?”
“Yeah. He’s not positive on the outcome, but he said he’d try to look for Wes.”
“There’s nothing more we can do, not with as little infor—”
The door swung open and they all turned to see who was interrupting them without even knocking. Joshua was standing at the door, his phone in his hand and Adrian behind him. “I need help.”
Dominic got up and Taylor followed his lead. “What is it?”
“A guy I met some time ago is hurt. I’d given Wes my number to call if he needed help, and it looks bad.”
Taylor’s eyes widened and he hurried to Joshua. “Wes? Dark hair, dark eyes, thin?”
Joshua frowned at him. “Yeah.”
“Shit!”
Ani hurried to his side. “We don’t have the time. Come on, give me your hands. Did he say where he was?”
“Just that he was in an alley near the club we met at, or at least I hope so. He wasn’t really conscious, I think, and he’s not answering anymore.”
“Okay, so think of him.”
“I don’t really know him.”
“It’s either that or we shimmer into the club in pajamas.”
Joshua closed his eyes and Taylor mirrored him. He thought about his Wes and both hoped it would be him and that it wouldn’t. He wanted nothing more than to find his mate, but he didn’t want Wes to be hurt.
Cold air assaulted him and he opened his eyes. They were in a dark alley, and Adrian was rushing toward a body slumped on the ground. Taylor followed him and kneeled on the asphalt, uncaring of the fact that he was getting dirty and that he was cold.
He pushed back the dark hair that was in front of the man’s face and made a wounded sound he hadn’t thought he could make when he saw it really was his Wes. He cleaned away a trickle of blood that ran down Wes’ chin, but there was so much more, and his face was swollen and cut and bloody.
Adrian was doing something, but Taylor never looked away from Wes’ face. He leaned forward even more and kissed his mate’s forehead, murmuring words of encouragement while Adrian worked.
“We need to take him to the mansion. We can move him,” Adrian declared.
They all looked at Ani and he held his hands out. Joshua stepped back, though. “I’m going to go into the club and ask if anyone heard anything. I’ll call you when I’m done. Just take them home.”
Taylor grabbed Ani’s hand and held onto Wes’ shoulder while Ani shimmered them away. He opened his eyes only when the air around him got warmer and he saw they were in the infirmary. Jared and Noem were already there, ready to get to work, and Taylor had to take a step backward to let them.
He sat heavily in one of the plastic chairs along the wall, never looking away from Wes’ face, even though every so often someone walked in front of it and blocked his view. A hand on the shoulder made him jump and he looked up to see Ani hand him a steaming cup. “There. I think you’ll need coffee.”
Taylor took it and smiled gratefully. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Do you want me to go tell Sebastian and Oliver?”
“Shit. I haven’t even told them about Wes. The only one who knows is Darin.”
“Do you want me to tell them?”
“Yes, please.”
Taylor looked back at his mate. Wes was going to need all the help he could get. Taylor knew very little about Nix powers, but he could see that Noem was healing only major injuries. Taylor didn’t know why, but it left a lot of smaller ones that would hurt like hell. Wes wouldn’t be able to be moved for a while, and he didn’t know anyone but Taylor, and apparently, Joshua.
Taylor sank deeper in his chair, his focus never leaving Wes, as he waited.
Chapter Three
When Wes woke up, he didn’t open his eyes right away. He wasn’t sure he could, because he could have sworn his eyelids hurt just as much as the rest of his body. He groaned, and someone next to him moved. They talked, and Wes’ pain slowly dissipated after that. He didn’t know how long it took, and he thought he’d actually fallen asleep again, but when he came to the second time, he felt better.
Not good, but better. He still hurt, but he managed to blink his eyes open, even if he had to close them right away because the light fucking hurt.
Someone squeezed his hand and let go of it, and Wes wanted them to take it again. The
y did a few seconds later, then a voice said, “I turned it off. Open your eyes, babe.”
Wes opened his eyes all right, because he recognized the voice and he needed to see if maybe he was dead and had gone to heaven. Well, probably not. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t hurt so much if he was dead, and that he’d be able to see with both eyes instead of only one, but still. How was Taylor there?
“Yeah, like that. Welcome back.”
Wes opened his mouth and tried to talk, but it was dry as the desert. Taylor grabbed a plastic cup from the nightstand next to Wes’ bed and held the straw out for him. Wes closed his lips around it, and it was the best water he’d ever had.
He wanted to finish the cup, but Taylor took it away, and Wes glared at him. Taylor chuckled and shook his head. “I know. I’d let you drink it all, but the doc said you needed to take things slow. You can have some more when he comes back.”
“Where...” Wes croaked.
Taylor crunched his nose, and gosh, it shouldn’t have been so adorable.
“You’re not in the hospital. More like... a private clinic or something.”
Wes closed his eyes. Shit. That was going to cost him a lot of money he didn’t have. The hospital would’ve been bad, but a private clinic? Who the fuck had found him?
He opened his eyes again. “Joshua?”
“He went to get something to eat, but he’ll be back. You’ll have to tell me how you two met some time.”
Yeah, no. No way Wes could tell Taylor he’d tried to hit on Joshua. At least Keenan had stopped him before he could talk money with the guy, so Wes didn’t think he knew what Wes did for a living. Taylor seemed to know Joshua pretty well, and that was the last thing Wes needed.
He tried to sit up, because the faster he was out of there, the less he’d have to pay, but Taylor pushed him back down. Wes didn’t mind because a wave of pain rose in his chest, but he still couldn’t stay. “I need to go home.”
Wes Page 4
