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Typhoon
Savage Brotherhood MC: Book Five
A Paranormal Romance
by Jasmine Wylder
Table of Contents
Other Books in this Series
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
About Jasmine Wylder
Other Books in this Series
Tornado (Book 1)
Blizzard (Book 2)
Thunder (Book 3)
Hurricane (Book 4)
Twister (Book 6, coming soon)
Cyclone (Book 7, coming soon)
Storm (Book 8, coming soon)
Chapter One
Mia
Blood spurted across her face. Mia snarled under her breath. She pinched an artery shut with a clamp as her tiger paced and growled in her chest. If she had an extra set of hands to help…but the shifters who came in after the attack were all fucking useless, and the help she'd hired two months before had quit on her after one of the geniuses groped her in the clinic.
Even though she'd torn the offender a new one, it wasn't going to bring her nurse back.
Mia shoved the thoughts from her head, as she grabbed a sterile needle with thread and moved quickly to sew the torn flesh together. The good thing about doctoring shifters was that they healed quickly. As long as she got this put back together, her patient would live. She swallowed hard, blinking sweat from her eyes as she connected the pieces that needed to be connected. She suctioned out the blood, and no new blood oozed in. Good—it meant the man was already healing.
She didn’t let herself slow until the gaping wound had been closed. Only then did she take a moment to breathe before cleaning up the wound, checking to make sure her patient was still out of it, and tossing all of her instruments into a solution of rubbing alcohol. She stripped off her blood-stained gloves and smock and scrubbed down. Exhaustion ached in her bones, but this was the worst of the men brought in.
She opened the door and pointed at a couple of burly men who had showered as she'd instructed them to do earlier. “You two: come help me get him into another room.”
They both scowled at her order, but her fierce glare cut off any arguments they might have had. They did as she asked, and soon the shifter on which she'd been operating was in a private room, hooked to machines to monitor his vitals. A slim, blond woman with the faint odor of fox about her sat beside his bed.
Mia didn't wonder if she'd done a good enough job. She didn't have time when there were others in need of her care. The vampire attack had been vicious. Fortunately, there had been no bites. Even though the shifters had recently learned how to keep from going rabid after a bitten by a vampire, the best medicine was not to get bitten at all.
Two of the men had bad gashes on their arms and legs that Mia had to stitch up, but nothing as bad as the first one. She had those men lie down in another room while she checked over the others to make sure they had no internal injuries.
“Hey, Doc,” one of the men grunted as he got to his feet. Blood dribbled down his chest. “What about me?”
“What about you?” Mia snapped at him. “You're fine. Sit down and rest.”
“Nah, I need some…help.” He winked at her as he slid forward. The wolf stink clung strongly to him. “Something to get the blood pumping and healing, you know?”
Mia rolled her eyes, pinning him with a fierce glare. She could actually feel her irises change color from a dull amber-brown to vivid gold. Her tiger pressed against the surface, wishing for release. She was a solitary cat. All the canines in her clinic had the effect of driving her good sense away.
“Care to say that again?” she asked coolly, keeping her voice low. “Or would you prefer I rip your balls off and feed them to you now?”
The wolf’s eyes widened slightly before he dropped to a fighting stance. Before he could say another word, half a dozen of the others had jumped to their feet and put themselves between Mia and the wolf. A loud growl rippled through the air, and they all cringed. Mia felt a strong reaction to the growl herself, her tiger having recognized the presence of an alpha.
While the others responded by ducking their heads and deferring to the strength shown, Mia’s tiger purred, and heat twisted inside of her. The exhaustion seemed to lift as a thrill of excitement surged through her blood; she would recognize Typhoon’s growl anywhere.
The shifters parted to reveal Typhoon standing behind the wolf that had propositioned Mia. His dark eyes had narrowed, and his jaw was clenched. He glanced around at the members. As alpha of the Savage Brotherhood, a motorcycle club—some would call it a gang—that protected unknowing civilians from vampires, he was an impressive sight. Taller than any of the others, his shoulders were almost too broad to fit through a regular door. Muscles strained against his shirt. Mia had told him once that his body deserved to be in a calendar for July and August.
His response? “I know.” He'd said it with a wink that set Mia’s heart to fluttering followed by a night that would not be forgotten.
Now, there was nothing flirtatious about Typhoon’s expression. Fury radiated off him in waves that had Mia’s tiger hissing. She backed away as Typhoon strode through the crowd to gaze at a short, muscular coyote.
“How many dead?” Typhoon snarled.
The coyote lifted his chin. In some, it would seem a belligerent move, but with canids, it was a show of submission. “None on our side. The vamps were in our territory, I—”
“Took unnecessary risks!” Typhoon bellowed. His hand lashed out to seize the coyote by the scruff. “I have had it up to here with you putting men in danger with your stupid schemes. If anybody had died, your head would be on the wall right now.”
Mia strode forward. She shoved Typhoon in the chest and drew herself up. Even though she was a good head shorter than him—he was huge, even for a wolf—she didn’t let him intimidate her. “Not in my clinic.”
Typhoon snarled. Mia bunched her hands on her hips and widened her stance. “Get out until you can calm down and act reasonably.”
“You think I’m going to take orders from—”
“From the doctor whom you rely upon to patch up your men? Yes.” Mia stepped closer and narrowed her eyes. “Get out now, or I shall have to put these boys in a position where their loyalty is tested between the two of us.”
Typhoon didn’t look at the murmuring shifters to see them bounce from one foot to the other. It really wasn’t fair to put them in this position, but if he didn’t leave, she would tell them to take Typhoon out. He was alpha, and they’d obey him in anything…but she was their doctor, and for many of them, the only person they really trusted.
She was confident they would side with her if worse came to worst. At least, most of them would.
Luckily, it didn’t come to that. Typhoon snorted, shook his head, and stepped past her. “I want to see who was injured. I can smell their blood. Someone was hurt badly.”
Mia nodded and fell into step beside him. “This way. He'll be all right. There’s a little otter-shifter who was very badly hurt, but he’s going to m
ake a full recovery with enough rest.”
“Good.” Typhoon put a hand on her shoulder as soon as the others were out of sight. “What would I do without you?”
Mia snorted. “Die, probably.”
Typhoon let out a rare, low chuckle. “You’re probably right, there. Thank you, Mia.”
She didn’t respond to that. It wouldn't be much longer before he'd have to make do without her. This wasn’t going to be her life forever, especially not with Jasper waiting for her back home. Her little boy was the world to her. She never got a moment's rest with her job, and she was constantly having to leave him to the care of others. No, she had to have something less…erratic. For his sake.
As she showed Typhoon to the otter's room, Mia's stomach curled in on itself. She snuck a glance at Typhoon from the corner of her eye. That one wild night they'd spent together had ended with Jasper in her arms nine months later. Typhoon knew she'd had a baby. He also knew the timing was right, but he never asked, and Mia wasn’t about to tell him.
Typhoon was the alpha of the largest organization of shifters. He was always on guard against the threat of vampires who consistently tried to take more than their share. What did a man like that want with a baby in his life?
***
The babysitter was sleeping on the couch when Mia got home. She was curled up with a pillow under her head and a textbook on her chest. Mia flinched. It was bad enough to be called away in the middle of the night, but poor Gracie had exams coming up. It wasn’t fair to call her in on such short notice all the time. Mia had a list of babysitters, but it was the same story with all of them.
Jasper started fussing from his bedroom, as though he could sense her presence. Mia shrugged off her coat, hung it up, and brushed her damp hair away from her face. She’d showered before leaving the clinic, leaving instructions for the boys staying to watch after their brothers and call her if there was any change or if they had any worries. The scent of blood was no longer on her skin, at least.
Jasper's cries became more insistent, and she hurried to him, hoping Gracie would stay asleep. Jasper lifted his head and grinned at her as soon as she stepped into his bedroom. At four months, he was still a little small for his age but more developed more in other areas. He was already recognizing his own face in the mirror and preferred her company over strangers.
“Hey there, sunshine.” She lifted him out of the crib as he struggled to push himself to his hands and knees. Mia tenderly stroked his downy-soft hair and kissed his forehead. Though she knew getting him down again later would be a bit of a challenge, she didn’t want to waste any time she had with him. “How is Mommy’s little man doing?”
Jasper put his hands on either side of her face and spat a raspberry at her. Mia jerked back, laughing. It was just what she needed after the hard day she'd had. She cradled her son in her arms, smiling at him. Her smile slipped a little when she remembered his father at the clinic earlier in the day.
Typhoon was the kind of guy that never went with the same girl twice. Mia knew that. She'd seen it multiple times. If someone took his fancy, he was charming without making what he wanted a secret. His voice got deep and gravelly, and his eyes glowed with anticipation. There weren’t many girls who could say no to a guy like that. Mia had done her best, keeping her distance and playing it cool, challenging his authority every chance she got, trying to turn his attentions elsewhere.
It hadn’t worked. That one night she'd spent with him? It was nothing like she'd expected. It was powerful. It was explosive. But it had also been gentle. He'd treated her like a queen as he'd claimed her. There were times she'd wanted to phone him up and try it again, but that wasn’t going to happen. She was on birth control, and they'd used a condom when she'd gotten pregnant with Jasper, which was testament as to Typhoon's virility. She wasn’t going to risk getting pregnant again, especially not with a four-month-old baby. Not to mention, Typhoon would probably laugh at her—she was nothing more than the girl for whom he’d had an itch, and that itch had been scratched.
As she bounced Jasper, earning giggles from him, her phone rang. Mia’s heart dropped; there was only one reason she’d get a call then. She pulled her phone from her pocket to see it wasn’t the clinic calling. Nor was it any of her other contacts in the Savage Brotherhood. At least, not that she had for work.
It was Blake, another wolf shifter, the disgraced alpha of the Cherryvale chapter. He and Typhoon were bitter rivals in the gang, but he was also one of the only people who could give her what she wanted.
If he only had better hours…
“What do you want?” she snapped at him, pinching the phone between her shoulder and ear as she took Jasper to her room. Gracie had already planned to stay there overnight. If she woke up on her own, Mia would send her home.
“Just checking up on you. Making sure that my grand prize is taking care of herself.”
Mia’s nostrils flared. She hated the way he talked about her, but it was true enough. Blake ran an auction, catering to the Brotherhood. He sold anything and everything they wanted, up to and including mates. The clientele coming to his auctions were rich. The door cover at his swanky club ensured it.
It hadn’t been an easy decision, choosing to auction herself off to be married to somebody in the gang—who knew who’d end up buying her? But Mia was tired. She was tired of being woken up in the middle of the night to sew up bloody, sliced-up guts. She was tired of being alone every night when she went to bed. She was just tired of it all. Yeah, maybe selling herself into marriage wasn’t the most logical choice, but with her life, she didn’t have time to meet, date, and fall in love. It didn’t matter. As long as the man buying her wasn’t abusive, she had the need for neither love nor fidelity.
She wanted stability. She wanted safety. She wanted to be sure vampires wouldn't come after her and her son because they knew that without their doctor, the Brotherhood would be severely crippled. She didn’t want Jasper to be involved in any of it.
“I’m fine,” Mia murmured, letting her voice growl. “Or I would be if you didn't check up on me. I’m not your property. If you keep acting like this, I’m going to pull out of the auction.”
Blake was silent for a moment. “I heard you had a tough time after an attack. Are you okay?”
Mia sighed. It was times like that she thought he might actually be genuine. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. Stop calling me. I’ll be at the auction tomorrow night, don’t worry.”
Unless she was called into work. Then again, they had a video for just that occasion. Either that or Blake would simply reschedule her auction. It really didn’t really matter; it was happening—it didn't matter when.
She hung up the phone and cradled Jasper against her chest. He immediately started to root around, looking to feed, and Mia unbuttoned her blouse. She looked at her little boy, remembering why she was doing this.
Life as a single working mom wasn’t for her. She needed a partner. The man who would buy her would know she had a son; it would mean he wanted a child in his life. She let out a sigh as she sank into the bed and got comfortable. It would work out. Somehow, it would work out.
Chapter Two
Typhoon
The smell of combined exhaust and blood had been exhilarating. Typhoon had licked his lips, enjoying the sensation of wind blowing against his face. After Reynolds’ disastrous attempt to clear out a coven of vampires camping on Brotherhood territory yesterday, that today’s mission would go smoothly was the best he could have hoped for. Typhoon had stayed out of it, observing how Twister, a young wolf who had just applied for the position of alpha of the Cherryvale chapter, behaved and how well he led. For the most part, Twister was qualified.
They pulled into the warehouse where they'd stash the loot from the job they were about to pull. Typhoon wasn’t overly fond of jobs robbing civilians, but they had to be done. Running the Brotherhood wasn’t cheap, after all, and he wasn’t going to rely on people like Hurricane for handouts. The bastards
they were about to rob were already too rich to spend it all in one lifetime, besides. What did it matter if they were a couple thousand poorer? It was a redistribution of resources, nothing more.
“All right, men,” Twister said as they dismounted their bikes, “go get some food and water, and then we can go over everything you did wrong.”
Typhoon rolled his eyes as he removed the bag of money he’d stashed in his bike.
Twister glanced at him and grimaced. “First, though, we count up what we collected and put it in the safe.” That was the biggest problem when it came to Twister. He was dynamic, charismatic, and commanded attention. His men liked him and obeyed his orders, but it was a relatively small group—only thirty of them—and he could get away with treating them individually. Playing mother hen at times instilled loyalty in the men because they wanted someone to look out for them. It would be very different dealing with a full city. He wouldn’t get to know each member of the chapter and would have to be far stricter. Challenges would be common. The way Twister handled things, the men would think him tenderhearted—which he was.
The question was: did he have the balls to get bloody when it was necessary?
Twister’s men hurried to obey him, laying out what they'd collected before getting food and water. Twister counted up the money, listed the jewelry they’d taken, and locked it all in the safe.
Typhoon lounged on a couch set on a secondary platform in the warehouse as the men went over the events of the day. He knew they were nervous to have him there, as they should be. Typhoon also had the feeling they were far more eager to obey Twister promptly; they wanted him to succeed.
Typhoon yawned as he listened with half an ear. It didn’t matter if they wanted him to succeed or not. In the end, Twister just wasn’t cut out to be alpha at that time. It was something he told Twister as soon as his men had been dismissed. Disappointment hit the smaller wolf’s face hard, though he nodded his acceptance.
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