Charmed by the Wolf

by Kristal Hollis

“I don’t think so,” Nel answered. “She ran up and started screaming.”

  The mother picked up the child to soothe her. “Amelia is usually excited to see...” She paused, taking another look at Jaxen. “Oh, she thought you were Tristan. She loves him to pieces. I guess when she realized you weren’t him, she got scared.”

  “No harm done.” Jaxen flashed the mother a big smile, but Nel noticed the tightness in his jaw.

  “It’s really uncanny, though,” the mother continued. “You look an awful lot like him.”

  “They’re cousins,” Nel said when Jaxen offered no reply.

  “When you see Tristan, tell him Melly said hello.” Mother and daughter walked away, hand in hand.

  Jaxen looked at Nel. “I didn’t know a kid could sound like that.”

  As a kindergarten teacher, Nel had heard worse from children with social skills delays or separation anxiety. “It can be surprising what comes out of their mouths.”

  Jaxen picked up the sketchbook that had fallen from Nel’s lap when she was trying to comfort the little girl. “These are good,” he said, flipping the pages too fast to actually admire the drawings.

  “Thanks.” Nel gathered her supplies into her bag.

  “I need to pick up my mom’s medication and check in on her.” Jaxen didn’t offer to help Nel stand. “Wanna meet up for dinner later?”

  Generally, Nel didn’t turn down a first date, preferring to get to know someone a little better before deciding her interest. Still, she hesitated in accepting Jaxen’s offer. He didn’t quite creep her out and he hadn’t set off any internal alarms, but something just didn’t feel quite right about him.

  “Oh, you’re so sweet, but I already have plans with my friend Marie.”

  Nel had been meeting up with “Marie Callender” in the freezer section of the grocery store ever since college.

  “Another time, then.”

  With a friend as dependable as Marie, Nel doubted it.

  * * *

  “You look like death warmed over.” Mabel Whitcomb, owner of Mabel’s Diner, sidled behind the lunch counter and stopped in front of Tristan.

  He felt like it, too.

  His left eye and cheek were still swollen from the punch Jaxen threw last night, and he’d had a fitful night’s sleep, periodically waking up craving Nel’s company.

  “Well, you look as lovely as ever, Mabel.” Tristan forced a smile for the elderly restaurateur sporting a red beehive hairdo and bright blue eye shadow.

  “Hush your mouth.” Smiling, she swatted at the air. “I’m wise to that silver tongue of yours.”

  “Doesn’t stop me from trying,” he teased.

  “Your charm doesn’t work on me. Turn it on some young lady who’ll make you stop working yourself to death.”

  “I’m tired, Mabel, not dying.”

  “Life ain’t all about work, sug. You have to do some living, too.”

  He pushed aside his empty plate. “A week from Saturday I’m going rafting with Youth Outreach.”

  “That’s work. You’re going to keep an eye on the kids, not have fun.”

  “Fun is for kids, not adults.” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

  “’Cause you’re doing it wrong.” She waved away his money. “Your lunch is always on the house. ’Preciate your service to the town.”

  Mabel tootled off and Tristan vacated his spot, dropping a fifty-dollar bill into the collection jar for the fire department’s annual fund-raiser.

  Stepping through the crowd waiting to be seated, he exited the diner.

  Sunshine warmed his face. His missed the lazy summer days he’d loved as a kid. Despite what he’d led Mabel to believe, Tristan looked forward to a day of white-water rafting. The outdoors and exercise, something more stimulating than his wolf patrols, would do him good.

  Laughter across the street caught his attention. Scanning the park, he saw Nel and Jaxen. Together.

  What is Jaxen doing with her?

  Jealousy reared and startled him. He’d never been jealous before and didn’t like the distaste that filled him. He had no reason to be jealous. Nel could talk to anyone she wanted to. He didn’t have an exclusive with her. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure what he had with her.

  Instead of jaywalking, Tristan crossed the side street to Wyatt’s Automotive Services and waited for traffic to clear on the main road. He heard a high-pitched squeal. In the park, he spotted a toddler in a pink outfit clapping her hands. Amelia Franklin. The first and only baby he’d delivered.

  On the side of the road. In a snowstorm.

  She squealed again and bolted.

  “Amelia, stop!” her mother yelled, but the kid beelined straight toward Tristan.

  “Shit!” He darted between two cars and dashed across the other lane. As a wolfan, he was faster than humans but he didn’t have superstrength or superpowers. If he got hit, it would hurt like hell or kill him. As her little feet padded onto the asphalt, Tristan whisked the child into his arms. Her laughter rang out as if they were playing a game.

  A horn blew, long and loud. Tires screeched. Before Tristan could move, pain exploded in his right hip and leg. Cradling the child against his chest, he rolled up onto the hood of the car. His shoulder smashed the windshield.

  Amelia started crying.

  “Shhh,” he cooed, ignoring his own pain. “You’re all right, Melly. We’re all right.”

  All the distant voices converged and boomed in his head. As Tristan sat up with the child, Amelia’s mother rushed up to grab her.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Sarah said, crying hysterically from fright and relief. The child reached toward him, calling, “Tiskan.”

  “I’m okay, sweetie.” He kissed her chubby hand. “Get her checked out at the clinic.”

  “I will.” The mother hugged him and he gritted his teeth against the pain. “That’s twice I owe you for her life.”

  “Tristan!” Nel pushed through the gathering crowd.

  She didn’t rush to hug him like Amelia’s mom. Instead, she stood close and cupped his face. “You’re bleeding.”

  “I am?” Funny, he hadn’t tasted the coppery tang in his mouth until then. He spat. “Must’ve bit my tongue.”

  “Someone call an ambulance.” Nel swung her gaze around the crowd.

  “One’s on the way,” Jaxen said. “I hear the siren.”

  “I just need to walk it off.” Tristan stepped forward. His entire right side felt consumed with fire.

  “That walk is going to have to wait.” Jaxen caught him before he collapsed. In Tristan’s ear, he whispered, “One day, playing hero is gonna get you killed.”

  Chapter 16

  “Good news.” Doc Habersham smiled as he entered the treatment bay. “Nothing’s broken. You get to go home.”

  “Why do I hurt so bad?” Tristan’s breaths came in short, quick pants. Every muscle in his body tightened against the pain.

  “Your right side is severely bruised.”

  “I’ve never hurt like this in all my life.” Tristan looked at his friend Brice. “Gives me a new appreciation of what you went through.”

  “I barely remember it. Doc kept me in a medicated coma through most of it.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Especially since every breath felt like a sharp knife slicing through his chest.

  “You’re bruised on one side, not mauled head to toe. Big difference,” Doc said.

  “Pain is pain.” Tristan’s skin was slick from sweat. The medication Doc had given him earlier had barely taken the edge off.

  “The hospital pharmacy is filling your prescription. Take one pill when you get home and stay off your leg as much as possible. No driving and you’ll be out of work for a few days, if not a
week.”

  “Great,” Tristan mumbled.

  “Tristan?” Nel’s shy, sweet voice called him from the doorway. “I’ve been waiting for hours and no one would tell me anything.”

  Doc and Brice gave him a curious look.

  “Nothing broken, so I’ve been told.” Grinning like a fool, he waved her forward. “Come on in.”

  Tristan introduced Nel to Doc and Brice but gave them no insight as to why he was so damn glad to see her.

  “Are you going to need a ride home?” Brice asked, his gaze falling on Tristan’s hand closing over Nel’s fingers as she stood bedside.

  “I’ll take him.” Nel volunteered, and for some reason Tristan preferred that she did.

  “Call me if you need anything,” Brice said as he left.

  “I’ve written the discharge orders. You can leave when the pharmacy tech brings your medication.” Doc hesitated at the door. “It’s best if you stay with someone for a few days, or at least have someone check on you.”

  “I’ll ask Angeline or Shane to drop by.” It would be convenient, since they were neighbors.

  “I’ll send a nurse to help you get dressed.”

  “I can manage.”

  Doc left as the tech came in with the meds. He dropped them off and disappeared, leaving Nel and Tristan alone.

  “Thanks for coming.” Tristan used the remote to raise the head of the bed. “I didn’t intend to interrupt your picnic with Jaxen.”

  “We weren’t on a picnic.” She helped steady him as he slowly moved one leg then the other off the bed. “I was sketching in the park. He was on an errand for his mother and came over to talk to me.”

  “Mind handing me my pants?”

  Nel picked them up from the chair. “Maybe you should lie down to put them on.”

  “That would probably hurt worse.” He took off the hospital gown.

  “You’re black and purple.” Tears filled her eyes. “Tristan, you could’ve been killed. Right in front of me, you could’ve died.”

  “Ah, Nel.” He tucked her against his left side. “I wish you hadn’t seen it.”

  “You didn’t think. You just ran and grabbed that baby.”

  “It was my fault she ran into the road. Whenever she sees me, she wants a hug.”

  “She’s awfully young to be working your charm on her.” Some of the sadness lifted from her smile.

  Tristan grinned. “Technically, I could be her grandpa. I went to school with her grandmother. Man, that makes me feel old.”

  “Well, let’s get you dressed, gramps.” Nel slid his pants onto his legs, helped him stand to pull them over his hips and steadied him while he zipped and buttoned. She made him sit down to put on his shirt, and she put his shoes on his feet so he didn’t have to bend over.

  “You’re supposed to stay off your leg, so I’ll bring the car to the patient pick-up area and ask a nurse to bring you out in a wheelchair.” Nel was out the door before he could say no.

  * * *

  Nel stopped in the parking lot of the Chatuge View apartments. “Please tell me you’re on the first floor.”

  “Third.” Tristan didn’t open his eyes.

  “Is there an elevator?”

  “No.” His chest heaved.

  “Give me your keys.”

  “Pocket,” was all he said.

  “Which one is your apartment?” She reached into his left hip pocket and pulled out his keys.

  “The right corner one.”

  “I’m going to pack some clothes for you. You can stay with me for a couple of days.”

  “Not necessary. Give me a minute and I’ll make it up the stairs.”

  Like hell he could.

  He’d already had a ten-minute nap on the trip from the hospital. One more minute, or two, wasn’t going to help him make it up three flights of stairs.

  “Stay put.” She left the car running so he’d have air conditioning. Poor thing was sweating, probably from pain.

  She hurried up the stairs and went into his apartment. Nothing like she expected, it was neat and orderly, the furnishings black-and-white modern. The couch looked stiff and uncomfortable, and the decorations were replicas of modern museum pieces.

  In the center of the bedroom was a large, metallic bed. The gray comforter was wadded to the side. The room smelled like him. Funny, she’d not thought about his scent. Fresh, crisp, with a hint of spice.

  Nel found a duffel bag in his closet. She picked out a week’s worth of T-shirts, several pairs of board shorts and a pair of jeans. She also dropped in socks and a pair of white sneakers. In the bathroom, she collected his toothbrush, a razor, his comb and hair gel. She looked for underwear but didn’t find any.

  On the way out, she grabbed his phone charger.

  Descending the stairs, reality hit. Tristan was supposed to have been a one-night stand. Now she had volunteered to care for him. It was crazy, really, but something in her couldn’t leave him alone in this condition. Much like her aunt and uncle, Tristan’s family didn’t seem to care. No one had come to the emergency clinic to see him, and no one had called since she picked him up.

  In good conscience, she couldn’t leave him on his own with the risk of him falling and further injuring himself.

  Nel tossed the duffel bag into the back seat and slid behind the wheel. “How are you feeling, trooper?”

  “Deputy,” he whispered. “I feel drugged. Apparently not enough, because I still hurt.”

  Nel drove carefully, trying not to hit any bumps along the way. When she reached the cabin, she grabbed the duffel bag and unlocked the front door, then returned to Tristan to help him out of the car.

  Getting him up the four steps to the porch was quite a chore. They never would’ve made it up three flights.

  She eased him onto the couch.

  “Thanks,” he panted. “Could really use those pain meds now.”

  Nel gave him a bottle of water from the fridge and one pain tablet. He downed the pill and guzzled all the water. He leaned back, closing his eyes.

  “Before the meds kick in, we need to get you into bed.”

  A smile spread across his face. One eye opened. “Are you joining me?”

  “Not a good idea. You need to rest.”

  “I could use a nap.” His words began to slur.

  “Can you stand?”

  “Shhurrr.”

  She helped him to his feet. He leaned heavily on her as they walked down the hallway.

  “Come on, let’s get your clothes off.”

  His glazed eyes gleamed. “Yours, too.”

  He tugged her against him and kissed her with such intensity and purpose she had a hard time believing he was under the influence. She broke the kiss.

  With one hand, he whipped off his shirt and dropped it to the ground. “Your turn.”

  He reached for her. She took his hands and squeezed. “Sit.”

  Obediently, he perched on the bed.

  “Give me your foot.” He lifted the good leg and she pulled off his shoe. “The other one.”

  He grimaced, barely lifting his work boot from the floor. She eased it off his foot.

  He unbuckled his pants and shoved them down his hips. She pulled them off his legs, ignoring his bouncing erection.

  “You should lie on your left side and keep the pressure off those bruises.”

  He frowned, but rolled to his side. She stuck a pillow between his knees. “How’s that?”

  “I’ve felt better.” His gaze followed her around the room as she picked up his clothes. “Like the night we were both naked.”

  “The doctor prescribed rest, not sex.”

  “Later, then.” His eyes drifted closed.

  Nel waited until his
breathing eased to leave the room.

  She retrieved the duffel bag from the living room, put his toothbrush and grooming items in the bathroom, then hung his clothes in the bedroom closet. She couldn’t resist smoothing his hair from his brow. A soft smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

  The dark bruise on his shoulder, spreading down his ribs, caused her throat to tighten. Seeing Tristan protecting a child as he smashed into the windshield of the car that had struck him had made her heart stop. Just that quick, she could’ve watched him die.

  Easily another life snuffed out far too soon.

  She kissed his forehead and left the room. Lingering too long would only make her jumbled feelings more convoluted. She needed to keep things simple, uncomplicated.

  Yeah? Well that boat had left the harbor the moment they first met.

  Chapter 17

  Complete and utter darkness surrounded Tristan. No matter which way he turned, he could see nothing but black.

  His throat closed around a cry of panic. Heart pounding to near rupture, he tore at the suffocating shroud, but the ethereal fabric slipped through his fingers as if it were air.

  A faint voice trickled through the silence. Thank god, he wasn’t alone. Relieved, he took his first non-panted breath since awakening in the abyss.

  “Tristan?” The sweetly familiar voice came closer.

  “Nel!” He had to find her. Fast. Before she disappeared forever.

  “I’m here.” Her voice swirled around him like colorful, carefree ribbons.

  “Where? I can’t see you.” He turned in frantic circles. “I can’t see anything!”

  A phantom hand touched his cheek. Tristan grasped the specter’s wrist, solid and warm to his touch, and rubbed his nose against the palm. The powdery-soft scent mixed with a touch of paint cleaner loosened the tightness in his chest.

  “Nel,” he murmured.

  “You’re having a bad dream.” Her arms wrapped around him and his cheek nestled in the crook of her neck, allowing her scent to infiltrate every cell of his being.

  How could this be a dream? Her presence was a very real anchor and he was damn grateful that he wasn’t alone, she wasn’t alone. They would face the void together.