by KH LeMoyne
Deacon’s strong voice flowed across the connection with a soothing effect and a pulse of power Chisholm wouldn’t have anticipated was transmittable through technology. He scrubbed at his face with a sigh and glanced around. The annoyed woman from the front desk stood beside a row of chairs, clipboard in hand, evidently waiting for him but unwilling to approach. Guess that was where he would be for the next several hours. He reached for the clipboard and sank into the seat. “She’s in the operating room.”
“I didn’t smell blood on her.” Deacon’s clipped tone reflected concern.
“She’s a blood match for Cabot.”
“I’m sorry, Chisholm.”
“I appreciate you guys showing up, or things would be much worse. The Feds still haven’t figured out someone was in town after us.” Or maybe they had and were dealing with their own internal problems. Chisholm had stopped caring.
“Well, the ones from today are dealt with. I thought you’d like to know everyone’s safe, fed, and settled. Trim will be in the room with Maggie and the kids. Wharton and I have the rooms on either side.”
“Is Maggie available?”
“Yes. She did very well, by the way.”
Chisholm didn’t need confirmation on that point, but he was glad Maggie had impressed her future alpha.
“Hey, Dad. How’s Cabot?”
“They’ve taken him into surgery.”
“He’s strong.” But her pause held the same worries and doubts he wrestled with. “Will you call when you know anything?”
“Yes. I suspect it’ll be morning, though, so don’t wait up.”
“Dad…” Her voice faltered. “Love you. Here’s Deacon back.” She was gone before he could respond.
“Chisholm, I’m having two more of my team come in to rotate on guard duty. You won’t be able to mistake Grizz. He’ll make anyone think twice about approaching the group. Brindy, however, is petite, but she’ll blend, and she’s sharp. No one will get past her. If you need them at the hospital, they’re yours.”
“Thank you. I know I owe you. I should have committed to leaving here sooner.”
“Second-guessing yourself is pointless. They were coming, now or later. We can hold them back, but I need a decision.”
“We’ll be ready to leave once Cabot’s cleared by his doctors.”
“What about your cop?”
“Can that be an open option?” His breath froze in his lungs. Begging before he’d even taken his oath wasn’t a strong position. But when it came to Dani, he’d do anything to leave a lifeline. “I’d hoped otherwise, but I don’t think she’s ready.”
“You don’t make things easy.”
“Do you have a mate, Deacon?”
“Does she know that’s what she is? We have rules about claims.” A quick growl echoed on the other end, then it calmed. “I can’t really blame you for what you don’t know, but learning is a prerequisite before your final acceptance.”
Eyes closed, he leaned his head back against the wall. That he and a human mate would be accepted into the clan was enough. Whatever tongue-lashing Deacon wanted to dish out, Chisholm had no more fight to resist. “I can learn rules and obey them, but she has no real idea what a mate means to us.” Though from the way she’d worked to save his children, and him, she understood loyalty and love. He wanted that to be enough for her. It meant the universe to him.
After a long pause, Deacon’s growl softened. “I almost envy you. I’ll see what I can work out.”
Chisholm ended the call. Elbows braced on his knees, he hung his head, hoping for some blood to rush to his brain.
Neither one of them had touched on the possibility of Cabot not recovering. That wasn’t an option. Not one he could face. And, frustratingly, with the battle in a sterile room behind closed doors, not one he could influence. But his mate was trying to change the odds.
Envy wouldn’t have been the word he’d chosen for himself. There’d be no envying him once he left the only woman he’d ever truly loved behind.
Dani lounged in a chair at the foot of Cabot’s bed, watching Chisholm attempt to steady his son’s life force through the pure will of his tired gaze. Feeling no less anxious, she’d at least been able to satisfy her concerns from the gurney beside Cabot’s in the recovery room. Her presence there had probably broken several hospital rules, but the surgical team gave her leeway based on her dealings with Cabot’s panic preceding the operation.
Wheeled into the operating room with her own quickly treated flesh wound, she’d been prepared for the bright, sterile environment, but not for the boy to be conscious and thrashing, struggling to keep the anesthesia mask from his face.
“Cabot, it’s Dani. I’m here.” That was all it had taken to calm him and let the staff do their job. A few simple words and he knew she and his father wouldn’t let him go. “Everything will be all right.”
Despite the monitors flashing Cabot’s dangerously low blood pressure and his pale blue complexion, she had lied with everything she had, putting strength and conviction into the soothing words. The battle turned her stomach. Her mind acknowledged the criticality of his situation, while her heart refused to doubt his survival. And because his eyelids had fluttered with panic while they put him under and her voice seemed to steady his heart rate, she kept talking through the dizzying discomfort of her blood flowing through serpentine tubes to him.
In reward, after four hours of surgery, she’d been able to see him regain consciousness. A brief view only as he roused, disoriented and afraid. “Cabot, it’s okay.” Enough of a reassurance that he’d turned her way and settled, listening to what his nurse instructed.
When he’d slipped back to sleep, they’d shuttled her in a wheelchair to Cabot’s room to wait with Chisholm. If possible, he had looked paler than his son. The instant the hospital bed rolled in with his child still alive, his fatigue disappeared. At least for a while.
Now, Dani considered the last twenty-four hours and the few loose pieces requiring closure. She hit on what she considered the safest first. “Since your wife was AB negative, you may run into this problem with your other children. We can have blood stored for them.”
Chisholm brushed Cabot’s hair back from his forehead, the hesitation long enough to cause her a flutter of alarm. What could he still be hiding?
“My wife wasn’t AB negative.”
“But—”
“Cabot’s father had that blood type.”
Cabot was born two years after Chisholm’s marriage? Dani didn’t need math to figure out this problem.
“He’s my son.” He lifted his gaze. “In every way that matters, each of my children belongs to me: flesh, blood, and soul.”
Each? “Sam and Charlie—” She choked back the rest as he leaned over Cabot’s body, scenting him for reassurance. Almost as if he was protecting him against the obvious conclusion—four children and none his biological offspring.
“I married Mamie, but we didn’t sleep together.” His eyes deepened from gold to a darker, redder tinge, as if daring her next comment before he looked back at Cabot. “They are legally my children. No one will ever take them from me.”
Her mouth turned to dust, but she managed just enough spit to speak. She wasn’t going near the legalities; she suspected there were no issues. But that didn’t stop people who adopted from fearing the birth parents would show up at their door, claiming their rights. His fear, justifiable or not, was understandable. “Why would you stay in a marriage like that?”
His eyes narrowed as he sank back into his chair. “Isn’t it obvious? The children. I don’t care who sired them. I care for them, protect them, and teach them what they need to learn to survive as shifters in this world.”
With the guidance and love he’d never experienced. That part of Chisholm was transparent to her as glass. It was just the loneliness and strength required to keep facing a one-sided relationship day after day that stunned her.
He rubbed his son’s hand, and for the first
time she felt a wall rise between them. The conversation, suddenly in the open, posed a threat to everything he’d spent years guarding. That she’d unlocked the fear in him and weakened his trust pierced her as if he’d slid a sword through her ribs and pried her heart from her chest. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. Dani averted her gaze and stared out at the bleak gray clouds finally spent of their two feet of snow. Cold and dank described the drift she felt from their severed bond. Oddly, she hadn’t realized how much she needed it.
She couldn’t bear to look at him. Not that she blamed him. She didn’t carry the weight he did, and without considering the possibilities he’d hinted at since she’d known him, she’d ripped open a hornets’ nest of secrets and angered the hive. A realistic expectation of open disclosure if she had committed to him, to his family. But she hadn’t.
Chisholm’s fitness as Maggie, Cabot, Sam, and Charlie’s father wasn’t even up for debate. No one else could replace the role he’d crafted in their lives. Not their mother or their biological fathers or even her. She only added soft layers to the granite foundation he’d put in place for each of his children.
With a deep breath, she attempted to rectify the threat she’d inadvertently posed. “You’re the father these children need,” she whispered. “I would never to jeopardize those ties.”
His jaw tightened as he turned and scrutinized her expression, but he gave a terse nod. His nostrils flared, and a glimmer of pain flickered in his eyes. “It’s been a long night. I don’t mean for you to be my whipping boy for everything that’s happened.”
“It seems it coincided with my interference.” Not exactly true, but the irony of the timing didn’t escape either of them.
Taking a deep breath, he started to rise. She beat him to standing and gestured that he should remain. The doubt in his expression grew to sadness. “Dani, I’ve never been good at going along with others. And there have been few things in this world I could count as mine.”
“Well, the kids are definitely one.”
“I very much want you to be another. While I realize these events just test whether we grow stronger or fracture, faith in something as good as we are is hard for me. For both of us, I suspect. I’ll make mistakes, but how I feel for you doesn’t change.”
Too tired to be logical and make sense, she shook her head. “This isn’t the time—”
“We’ll be leaving soon after Cabot is released.”
For once, he didn’t bother to mask his distress, and her stomach dropped. She considered sitting back down, but they’d fall into a discussion on topics that might hurt even more. Ones she didn’t know the answers to.
“I want you to come with us.”
After tonight?
“Especially now,” he said, as if reading her mind. “I want us to grow strong together, not find reasons why we should be apart.”
She had no response.
Like a fool, she’d failed to realize they would hit this bridge of his leaving sooner rather than later. The gulf was growing with each silent second, for she wasn’t the only one who’d stirred up old ghosts. Change, choices, both required she be certain and prepared. She felt unsteady on both counts.
Fortunately, professional demeanor was her default mode, and it didn’t fail her now. “We didn’t make commitments to be together. I hold you to nothing, Chisholm. You should do the same with me. I have a job here. You have one somewhere safe with Deacon’s people.”
Her hand was on the doorknob as he spoke.
“That’s not a no, Dani. You’ll have to tell me no to my face for me to stop hoping.”
She couldn’t respond. The tears in her eyes watered her vision too much for her to turn around, and what could she say? “I’ll be by to check on Cabot later, if that’s okay?”
With that, she left.
12
The WITSEC people arrived five days later, coincidental with Cabot’s release from the hospital and the police finally backing down from their investigation. Chisholm had stayed clear of both groups, focusing instead on all the final details for their last relocation.
His emotions vacillated from joy at having his family back together to the emptiness of seeing all their belongings boxed and ready for the moving trucks—again. And then there was Dani’s absence.
He hadn’t seen her since the day she’d left the hospital, though he knew she’d checked on Cabot as she’d planned. As had Trim, Wharton, and Deacon. The hospital staff updated him of every visitor. Only Chisholm’s approved list of personnel were allowed on Cabot’s floor, and each had to show ID before entering.
He’d refused to add Stan Petrelli to the list. Despite the agent’s help in rolling back the police attention, Chisholm’s servitude to WITSEC was done. Cabot would never endure another interview or interrogation ever again.
But he had one piece of unfinished business. And whether Dani acknowledged their relationship or not, he still wanted one more chance with her before the Barducs left town.
He’d had a century alone before he’d stumbled across the satisfaction in having kids. While he’d never questioned sharing them with Dani, he refused to lose them. It hadn’t been a conscious decision on his part to keep the identity of their fathers a secret. Or maybe it had. Either way, his knee-jerk reaction that she might threaten his custodial rights escaped before he had a chance to work through his feelings and sort fear from logic.
Of course, she’d felt it the minute he’d rebelled against risking what he had. He doubted she understood the mating link bound them together in a subliminal, telepathic way. He’d withheld some tidbits, not wanting her to feel caged.
But the instant he’d given in to his fear and rebelled, he’d closed down. He’d felt the bond between them snap. Not break, just pull taut and painful. Her corresponding pain had been palpable, their relationship new enough he’d caused damage. A mistake that, if they’d had more time, they could have worked through and come out stronger.
He turned on his phone, not surprised to get her voice mail.
“Dani, I need to see you before we leave tomorrow. My gratitude failed miserably the other day, after all you’ve sacrificed for the kids and for me. It’s not an excuse for my bullish behavior, just—” He swallowed hard. “If you could see clear to come by, I’d be grateful. I won’t take much of your time.”
He slid the phone into his pocket and walked three more boxes to the truck. Deacon’s people had packed most of their belongings while he was at Cabot’s side in the hospital. It gave him some comfort and a little humor to think it had taken five adults to take care of the kids and perform the tasks he usually handled alone.
Turning for his last load, he watched Dani’s small rental car pull into the driveway. He walked back into his studio for the last few items, stilling his racing heart as he waited for her. Of course she’d come. She’d arranged to see Maggie, Sam, and Charlie with Trim while he was with Cabot. Attentive to details, she would do the appropriate and polite thing of saying good-bye.
That she’d left him for last and he’d had to resort to begging didn’t sit well with him, but he deserved her avoidance. She could have died in the barn with Cabot, or later from some complication from the transfusion or from any number of risks he’d exposed her to since they’d first met. He regretted putting her in danger, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it enough not to see and touch her again. Guess that made him a bad person.
He placed the few remaining boxes on his workbench. “Have you given any more thought to joining us?”
Steady, but eyes shining suspiciously with an unnatural brilliance, her gaze met his. “And do what? My life is here.”
“My life has been somewhere else more times than I can count. Is there anything you’d enjoy doing that you aren’t? Anything that could bring you pleasure and allow you to be with us?”
“Chisholm—”
He stepped close and bent down. His breath fanned across her cheek before his lips claimed hers. Conviction built a
s his kiss deepened and she didn’t retreat. Then she opened for him, and his doubts fled. Transcendent joy built in their kiss, the pure sweet fire between a man and a woman who wanted more than words and promises. She was his gift in this world and the next, the part of him that melded softness with his hard core, logic with his animal instinct, and a soulful beauty with his artistic heart. He wanted to believe commitment was possible. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday, if he gave her enough time, she’d see their bond for the extraordinary gift it was.
He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes, resignation settling into his muscles. Determined to make her lose control one last time he lifted her, bringing her off the floor and flush against him.
She met his kiss with an explosion of her own, her fingers digging into his hair as she tasted him. Fierce and unforgiving, he claimed her mouth. Relentless and determined, she gave back as good as she got.
He pulled back, and she gasped. The sudden loss of contact, the heat and sensation between their bodies was gone like a Band-Aid ripped away too fast. But from the look in her eyes and the quick glance around, he guessed she was reminded, as he was, of their afternoon in the workshop.
“Are you contemplating a quickie before anyone comes to figure out where you are?” she asked, her humor a bit forced and sad.
Eyes closed, he breathed deep, the thought considered for a second before his senses deciphered her scent. The universe was working against him today. “I want you. Now. Later. In my bed and beside me forever. But—” He cupped her cheek with his palm as he set her back on her feet. “You’re ovulating. I’d trap you in a pregnancy, and though I’m sorely tempted, you deserve better.”
Dani’s cheeks heated. She straightened her blouse and brushed her jacket with unsteady hands. He could almost sense regret in her posture; the scent of frustration was clear. “I can’t believe you can smell things like that.”
“I can scent when you’re happy as well. And right now, you aren’t.”
“Chisholm, please don’t—”
“Fine. Just do me one favor.”
