Who was he talking to that had him sounding so distraught?
Mia inched closer to the corner of the building until she could just see Typhoon's shoes peeking out from around the edge. She cradled Jasper in both arms and held her breath. Typhoon was so involved in his call that he didn’t notice. There was another blast of cigarette smoke, and he rose his voice again.
“Because you killed—” He cut off, and Mia saw him stiffen.
Her heart jumped to her throat, certain he'd caught her eavesdropping. Part of her wanted to rush back to the clinic, but her tiger snarled at her weakness. Instead, she took a few great strides and rounded the corner as though she hadn’t been stalking up on him at all.
“Put that smelly thing out at once,” she ordered, pointing at the cigarette. “People are trying to breathe, here!”
Typhoon growled as he started. He slammed his finger into the cell phone, turning it off at once before stuffing it into his pocket. “I’ll do whatever the hell I want!”
His roar almost made Mia flinch. It made Jasper jerk, and he flailed about, exposing her breasts for the world to see as he screamed. Mia hastily buttoned two more buttons to cover herself and held her baby to her shoulder, bouncing him. She glared at Typhoon as he took another drag on the cigarette. He stared her in the eye as he did.
“Put that out,” Mia hissed. “Do you want to give yourself cancer?”
“Shifters don’t get cancer.”
“It’s rare, but it does happen.” Mia slapped the cigarette from his hand and stomped on it. “There is no smoking near my clinic. You know the rules. I’ve told them to you often enough. If you’re not going to obey them, then get on that bike of yours and leave.”
Typhoon glowered at her and snorted. “Well, I guess that’s one thing to look forward to after you quit. I won’t have to put up with your goody-two-shoes ways anymore.”
Mia opened her mouth, then closed it again. She was going to quit—hadn't the night before been proof enough that she couldn’t keep doing this? Just bringing Jasper to the clinic was a danger in itself. She had to put him first above anything else.
She wondered if Twister would still be alive if she hadn’t been the one at the clinic.
Mia sucked in a breath to calm herself as she continued soothing Jasper. He was calming down quickly enough, twisting his body (flopping around in her arms in the process) to peer intensely at Typhoon. Typhoon peered back at her with the same eyes, and her stomach dropped. Anybody looking at the two of them could plainly see they were father and son. Anybody.
“I’m sending the two who were bitten home,” she blurted, shielding Jasper from Typhoon’s gaze. “Thought you might want to talk to them first.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay, fine. Just…don’t light up another cigarette,” she said as the ambulance to take Twister to Hurricane’s house pulled into the parking lot. “Otherwise, I’m going to beat your ass.”
A faint smile spread over Typhoon’s face at that. “Hmm. I might like that.”
Whatever anger he had over her having listened to his conversation had gone, or he was simply redirecting her. It worked—the image of her dressed in leathers, holding a whip as she straddled him tied to a bed with a ball in his mouth came to her mind, and heat rushed to her cheeks. She almost told him not to say such things in front of her baby, but she was certain her voice would only come out a squeak.
The paramedics got out of the ambulance. Mia turned on her heel and marched over to them. She directed them inside and oversaw Andy’s transfer to the ambulance. Roxy and Josef stuck close by. Mia rubbed her neck and adjusted Jasper who had started to root around for more food.
Just as the ambulance, Roxy, and Josef had left the parking lot, another car came in—a sleek Lexus. Blake stepped out of it. His eyes seemed to burn with anger, and Mia bit back a curse. Stephen must have called them; they were close friends, from what she had seen.
No, there hadn’t been time for Stephen to call him. He must have found out some other way.
Blake ignored Mia and the clinic, charging right for Typhoon instead. “Bastard!”
Typhoon shifted his stance stopping Blake in his tracks. “And what am I a bastard for this time, Hailstorm?” he snarled loudly.
Blake’s muscles bunched. His hands clenched into fists, and he bore his teeth with a snarl. “Twister’s hide should be hanging from a wall already, yet you let him drive out of here without any consequences.”
Mia backed toward the clinic. Whatever had happened the night before must have been very terrible for Blake to be so angry and defiant over it. Her heart started to beat a little faster, and she pulled Jasper closer to her chest. The only two left there besides Typhoon were the shifters who’d been bitten. Which side would land on?
“There are consequences,” Typhoon said, but Mia could see that Blake was beyond words.
She turned on her heel and dashed into the clinic, running straight to her locked storeroom. She unlocked it, placed Jasper on the floor where he wouldn’t get into anything, and locked the room again before dashing outside to hear a roar met with a cry of pain. When she raced out the door, she found Blake and Typhoon at each other’s throats, fists flying as dark fur spread over their bodies and sharp teeth grew in their mouth.
Stephen and the other one were soon behind her, asking what was going on. Mia wasted no time explaining.
Blake jabbed a fist into Typhoon’s kidneys, and Typhoon reached to snap Blake’s neck. Mia dodged into the thick of it. Both of her fists flew out. One palm slammed into Blake’s nose and the other into Typhoon’s.
Twin cracks rang out through the air. Both men stumbled back. Blood burst from Blake’s nose; it spurted from Typhoon’s. Both stared at her with a mix of rage and shock. Mia snarled, bringing her tiger closer to the surface. They might be big wolves, but she was a big cat. She could easily trounce them both in her tiger form.
Well, maybe not easily, but she could still do it.
“That's enough of you acting like children,” she shouted, making sure to include both of them in her glare. “Nobody's getting killed at my clinic.”
“Your clinic,” Blake sneered. “Is that why Twister got let off without a hook? Or is it because you sucked off the alpha and got him in a nice, agreeable state to do whatever you wanted? Got him begging you for more?”
Mia rolled her eyes. If he was trying to upset her, accusing her of having sex (especially to someone who was technically her husband) wasn't the way to do it. “If you're here to pick Stephen up, he's free to go. Clean bill of health. I suggest you leave now.”
“Hiding behind a woman?” Blake turned his sneer to Typhoon. “Should have known the moment you bought her. You’re spineless, and binding yourself to one woman—especially one as old and fat as her—”
“Hey!” Mia started forward, a growl on her lips.
Typhoon caught her by the elbow. “Leave him to me.”
She turned to tell him that she could take care of herself, and caught the flash of movement in her eye. Blake lunged forward, claws extending from his nailbeds, and pain blossomed across her shoulders, causing her to fall forward into Typhoon’s arms.
Two shouts echoed from behind her. As she clung to Typhoon, white-hot pain throbbing in her shoulders, there was a third shout. More claws dug into her, and Typhoon spun her out of the way.
The claws tore free, causing her to scream, and her tiger raced to the surface, hovering just below her skin.
Typhoon seized Blake by the throat and kicked his feet out from under him. Mia fell to her knees, hot blood scorching a path down her back. Stephen and the other shifter rushed to her. She tried to assure them she was okay, but her eyes were still locked on Typhoon and Blake. Typhoon’s hands were locked around Blake's neck, his face rapidly turning red.
“Typhoon,” she gasped, “no.”
The alpha’s eyes blazed. For a dreadful moment, Mia thought he would ignore her and kill Blake anyway. But then, slowly, as if h
e were fighting himself, Typhoon released his grip on Blake’s throat.
The shifter coughed. His face still red, he shoved Typhoon.
The alpha got to his feet and sent a vicious kick into Blake’s stomach.
Mia cried out in protest as Blake doubled over double, his red face quickly turning to a sickly shade of green.
“Consider yourself lucky, dog,” Typhoon growled at him. “The only reason I will not kill you now is because the doctor doesn’t want bloodshed at her clinic. You’d best take the chance to run while you can. The next time we meet, you will not be so fortunate.”
He turned on his heel and strode over to Mia. The other two shifters scattered, rushing back to the clinic walls and standing there, looking uncertain and afraid. Typhoon’s furious, hard expression melted into concern as he knelt beside Mia and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice low.
Stephen skirted them and went to Blake’s side.
Mia glared at the wolf that had attacked her while her back had been turned. She would shed no tears for him, but she still felt like it was necessary to fight for him. Blood still trickled down her back as her mind shot to Jasper, alone on the floor in a locked room. Anxiety seized her innards, and she grabbed Typhoon’s arm.
“Take me inside.”
Typhoon picked her up and turned to the clinic. Stephen helped Blake to his feet, while the other shifter nearly tripped over himself to open the door for Typhoon.
Blake laughed a loud, raucous laughter, full of bitterness and hate. “I should've known this would happen. Typhoon, alpha of the Savage Brotherhood, has gone and got himself whipped.”
A growl reverberated in Typhoon’s chest, but he didn’t turn back.
“There was a time when you took care of this gang,” Blake continued shouting.
Mia flinched. If the fighting hadn’t already gotten the attention of the neighbors, his shouting certainly would. The last thing she needed was the cops gumming up the clinic—again. They made it a habit of stopping by regularly, hoping to catch her off-guard so they could have something on her or her patients to arrest them.
“What’s the matter,” Blake shouted again, “cat got your tongue, Typhoon?” The door swung shut, but not before his last words rang through the air. “Has she even told you that brat of hers is yours?”
Typhoon froze. Mia’s breath locked in her chest as her head whipped around to stare into his eyes. His arms tightened as disbelief flickered over his face. He must've seen the truth in her expression because a storm cloud descended over him and he let out a deep, threatening growl.
“What is he talking about?”
Chapter Eight
Typhoon
“I wasn’t going to tell you.”
Fear shone from Mia’s eyes, but she lifted her chin in a defiantly and glared at him. Her arms were around his neck, her weight warm in his arms. Outside, the two shifters were hurrying Hailstorm away, probably hoping he wouldn’t shift and turn on them.
Idiots. As if he’d do anything like that in broad daylight when there were witnesses.
Typhoon locked the door with one hand, then carried Mia to one of the examination rooms. He dropped her on the examination table, ignoring her wince, and glared at her.
“What the fuck is this?”
Mia shoved him away and got to her feet shakily. “Jasper needs me.”
He reached for her arm to stop her, but the baby was crying. Typhoon stepped back to let her get up and followed her to the supply room. Her hands shook as she unlocked the door. Blood stained her scrubs, and from her hitched breathing, he knew she was in pain. He couldn’t make himself help her, though, not even when she opened the door to find the baby half-stuck under a shelf.
“Are you okay?” Mia quickly collected her child and pulled him into a protective embrace. “Shh, it’s okay. Mommy’s got you.”
She peeked over her shoulder at him, fear still in her eyes. He wanted to be angry that she was frightened of him, but he couldn’t decide his dominant emotion. All he could do was stand there and glower at her.
The scent of blood worked its way into his brain, and Typhoon shook his head. He grasped Mia’s elbow, led her back to the examination room, and yanked some cleaners and gauze from a small cabinet.
“Take off your shirt,” he grunted at her.
Mia sat on the bed and stared at him. “You’re not going to say anything?”
“About what?”
“You really want to play games right now?”
Typhoon dropped the supplies on the bed beside her. “What’s there to say? He’s talking out of his ass. You were on birth control, and we used a condom.”
Mia’s nostrils flared. “Yeah, and I still ended up with a baby. The chances were one in a million. The birth control I used was ninety-nine percent effective, and condoms are ninety-eight percent effective. Together, there should've been no chance, and yet…”
A cold, slimy feeling slithered up his throat. “So you’re saying that I could have other children out there?”
“Not likely.”
“But it wasn’t likely for you to get pregnant!” Typhoon snarled. His hands shook, but he refused to look at the baby in her arms. It was impossible. Mia and Blake must have come up with this scheme together for some reason. They were trying to topple him…something! “I don’t have any interest in being a father.”
“I know,” she snapped back, “and that’s why I wasn’t going to tell you.”
Typhoon wheeled for the door. Maybe he should feel bad for leaving her wounded, but she could take care of herself. His lungs seemed no longer able to expand, and he couldn’t get his brain to work properly. This whole notion was so ludicrous, he wanted to laugh. Instead, his stomach twisted itself into knots, and he could hardly see what was around him.
Blake and the others were gone when he got outside; good for them. If they’d still been around, he might not have been able to contain his temper, but it also meant that by the end of the day, everybody would know about the possibility that he had a child.
But it wasn't a possibility, was it? He nearly laughed at himself as he raced to where his bike had been parked. If it weren't true, Mia wouldn’t have been so afraid, so it was real because she was afraid of what his reaction would be. And she should be afraid of him! He was a dangerous man. He was half-vampire. There was evil in his blood, and nothing was going to change that.
His stomach wrapped in yet another knot as he thought of the small baby in her arms. How old was Jasper? Four months? Were babies usually that big at four months? Was it normal for a four-month-old to wriggle around on the floor and get stuck beneath shelves? Was it usual to have that intelligent gaze in a baby’s eyes? Did the baby know that Typhoon was his father just by looking at him?
Typhoon’s own memories from when he was that small were hazy, but they were still there. He remembered the discomfort of wet and dirty diapers and the frustration at not being able to tell his mother what was wrong with him. He hadn’t experienced things in thoughts as much as pure feeling, but thought had come quickly. He'd also fully grown in a single year; he’d had to eat almost constantly and was always in pain, his body feeling like it was stretching out. There were days when all he could do was lie in bed, watch documentaries, and wish he was going to die.
Was that the future that Jasper faced? Was he already growing faster than he should be? Was Mia terrified about what might happen to her child as she watched him getting bigger every day?
Typhoon wove through traffic, the air currents of the vehicles around him brushing his hair. He became aware that his helmet was still hanging from one side of the handlebars, but he didn’t stop to put it on.
Hadn't he just thought the drama with his father was all he'd have to deal with right then?.
His head brushed against a driver’s side mirror. Horns honked loudly as he pressed between two neck-in-neck cars. Finally, adrenaline kicked in to cut out the thoughts from h
is head. It was just at the right point; he'd driven until the bike was running on fumes, and he finally stopped to fill it up. As soon as he didn’t have the driving to concentrate on, the thought he'd been avoiding flashed into his mind.
He had to tell Mia. She had to know his heritage—her son’s heritage. He had to tell her everything. How the hell was he meant to do that?
Typhoon could just imagine how she'd react to it—by putting a scalpel through his throat. That’s what he’d do if their places had been reversed.
What he didn’t know was what all this meant for Jasper. His throat seized up. If Mia rejected the baby, would he have to take him and run? Would he give up everything in order to care for a child he'd never wanted? Had he once wanted to be a father? Hadn't he given up on that line of thinking when his mom had died? He had to take responsibility for Jasper, didn’t he? It was the only right thing to do.
Having finished filling his tank, Typhoon jumped back on his bike and headed for the woods. He needed to run, to burn off his excess energy and put his thoughts in order, rather than block them from his mind. He wasn’t going to figure any of it out if he didn’t work it through.
Soon, he was up in the mountain paths, breathing the clean air as he navigated the rocky roads. Being away from the noise of the city helped to settle his racing pulse and clear his head. He didn’t have to tell Mia everything right away. All he had to do was find out how quickly Jasper was developing. If he were growing up faster than expected, Mia would have expressed some concerns about that, wouldn’t she? So, he must be more or less normal—
Something shot out from the trees. It rammed into the side of the bike, and Typhoon lost control. He was flung from the bike, thrown headfirst at the road. Typhoon managed to shift and twist in the air to hit the ground with a roll and come to a stop on the side of the road.
His muscles burned. The whole left side of his body was in agony as he pushed himself shakily to all four paws.
“What did I say?” Hailstorm’s triumphant voice rang through the air. “Predictable.”
Typhoon Page 6
