by V. Vaughn
Once I get to my car, I call Esher. He picks up on the second ring. “Andi. I’m with a patient, but I’ll call you right back.”
“Okay.” I flip my phone around in my hand as I stare out the window at the landscaping around the doctor’s office. Bulb irises are in bloom, and I wonder if I’ll get the chance to see them again next year. I focus on the new leaves on an oak tree. Will I be alive to see them turn bright yellow in the fall? How many people have sat in this parking lot thinking the same things?
The ring of my phone makes me jump, and I tap it to answer Esher’s call. “Hey.”
“Hi. What’s the prognosis?”
“Stage four. I refused chemo.” The hard plastic of my steering wheel is smooth under my fingers as I drag them along the top of it.
Esher sighs. “I’m so sorry, Andi. You know what we need to do now.”
“Do you think it will work again?”
“I do.” I imagine the lines that form between his eyebrows when he’s determined as he adds, “And if it doesn’t, I’ve got something up my sleeve as a backup.”
Hope makes me sit up a little taller. “What?” I ask. But as soon as the word is out of my mouth I hate myself for being so eager to let Esher sacrifice something for me. Again.
“I don’t want to do this over the phone. Why don’t you come to my house for dinner tonight? Say six?”
My tears are on the brink of falling, and I crack a joke to keep from crying. “Are you serving a nice red?”
“I am. I like to think it’s one of your favorites.”
I grin as hot moisture rolls down my cheeks, and I whisper, “It is.”
When I get off the phone I realize I should go back to work. But being around Gina Sand is down at the bottom of my list of things I want to do with what may be the remaining days of my life, so I take myself out to lunch instead. I don’t bother to call, and part of me hopes I’ll get fired and make my career decision an easy one.
The hostess at the lakeside cafe seats me in a sunny corner that allows me to gaze out over the water. I order a cola and a cup of clam chowder before I open the menu. I plan to eat my favorite foods without guilt. It’s too early in the season for many tourists, and I enjoy the nearly empty restaurant.
I eavesdrop on an older couple’s conversation. He’s deciding what to eat, and she discards all his choices quickly as she tells him he wants the blue cheese-and-bacon sandwich special. He scoffs at her idea, but when the waitress arrives, it’s what he orders. I smile at their exchange as I imagine they’ve been married for decades. A lump forms in my throat. What if I never get married?
My soda appears, and ice cubes clink against the glass as I poke at them with my straw before I take a sip. I may never get to be a mother. I let the sugary drink sit on my tongue for a moment. What if this is really it? The idea that werewolf blood could save me in the first place was crazy. I recall the night Esher proposed the idea, and the next day when we sat in his dorm room as he drew a vial of blood from his vein and injected it into mine.
The waitress thumps my soup down in front of me, and I order a BLT with fries. Creamy flavor makes me moan softly with pleasure when I spoon in a mouthful. I recall how Esher and I made love that night. It’s etched in my memory as the best sex I’ve ever had, but it was more than physical. I don’t know if it was the fear of dying or the way Esher gave so freely of himself, but I’d never experienced the kind of connection we had.
The sun shifts to a position that is too bright for my eyes, and my chair scrapes on the wood floor as I move to a shadier section of my table. Unfortunately it wasn’t long after that night that Esher and I broke up. When my blood tested normal the next day I embarked on my crazy research idea without a thought about the implications. And it led to the blowup that ended my relationship with the man who is the love of my life. The one who’s come to my rescue once again.
My sandwich arrives, and I take a bite. The rich flavor of bacon reminds me of the breakfast Esher made for me yesterday, and I picture his powerful arms as he worked in my kitchen. The arms I wish were holding me right now.
When I finish my lunch I’m too full for the dessert I’d planned on, so I order two pieces of carrot cake to go. Esher and I can have them tonight. But I smile to myself when the waitress hands the box to me, because I have a different idea for dessert. If my days are numbered, I’m going to do my best to make the most of the time I have left, and that means making Esher Wakefield a part of my life.
7
After my leisurely lunch I return to work. By the time I arrive back at the lab the decision to quit my job is solid in my mind, and I walk in without an ounce of guilt over being gone for three hours.
When I step through the door, Dr. Sand glances up from her work, and a scowl forms on her face as her eyes dart to the clock. But the expression is fleeting as she covers it with fake concern and asks, “How did it go?”
I speak with the confidence of someone who has nothing to lose. “I’m in stage four of my cancer. I’ve refused chemotherapy, and—”
Dr. Sand claps her hands together and interrupts me. “Wonderful! I knew you’d be on board with the plan to test the werewolf blood.”
She walks over to me, and I stare at her as I process her reaction. Although, I’m not sure why I’m surprised. I’d bet if she had children it would have been so she could use them as lab rats. I say, “No. I’m not—”
“I have a few ideas how we can capture one.”
Wait. Capture one? Fear knots in my stomach, and I ask, “How?”
“Oh, this is brilliant. I have a couple friends that used to work in Special Forces for the FBI. I took the liberty of calling them while you were gone. They’ll be here next week.”
“So they’re going to capture a wolf for us? Can they do that?” I’m pretty sure Dr. Sand is working off government radar.
A strand of hair has fallen out of her bun, and she pushes it out of the way as she says, “We can do anything we want as long as we’re discreet. It’s amazing what money can buy.”
The implications of her words hit me. She’s acting outside of the law on this. I ask, “Private backer?”
She nods. “There’s so much I want to test, and you’re the perfect subject. You know how difficult it is to clear a human and—” She shakes her head. “Well, you know what I’m talking about.”
Right. The ethics of testing dangerous theories on humans, like ones that can kill. Let alone getting the person’s permission. I suppress the urge to huff in anger and say, “Yes. I do.” My plan to quit today just flew out the window. I’ve got to stop Dr. Sand from capturing Silver Lake wolves, and I think I need to stick around to do that. “So tell me more about how you’re going to get the wolves.”
“Don’t you worry about that part.” Her hand is icy cold on my arm when she touches me. “You look exhausted. I’m sure today has been tough on you. Perhaps you should go home and rest.”
She gives me the out I was looking for, but rest is the last thing on my mind. I need to tell Esher what Dr. Gina Sand is up to. I say, “That’s a good idea. I am tired.” I never got the chance to put my purse away, and the leather strap is smooth in my hand when I lift it to my shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Her mask of concern is thin when she says, “I’m so sorry, Andi. We’re going to fix this. You’ll see.”
You bet we are. But you’re not going to like my solution. I offer her a false sentiment of my own. “If anyone can do it, it’s you. Thanks.” I turn on my heel and stroll out of the lab as if I’m confident my problems are solved. But more than bad blood is racing through my veins as I make my way down the hallway of the science building. Fury is searing its way along my vessels too. Dr. Gina Sand is messing with the wrong woman, because I’m taking her down, once and for all.
* * *
Snowflake paces my apartment along with me. It’s amazing what a good adrenaline spike can do for your energy level. I can’t stop moving as I work out my
rage over the latest development in Dr. Sand’s idea of genetic research. If Esher didn’t have such an important job I’d call him, but he’s dealing with sick children and doesn’t need me to yank him away. I called my friend and ex-lab assistant Mia instead.
I scoop up my cat and nuzzle into her neck. I need the comfort her purring gives me as it vibrates against my chest. When the doorbell rings, I shut Snowflake in the bathroom so she won’t attack another werewolf, and I open up to Mia. My friend rocks the sexy schoolgirl look with a style all her own, because in addition to the leggings and pleated skirt, she has a brain to go with them. The moment the door snicks shut behind her she asks, “Are you in trouble?”
“We all are. Come sit.”
Mia became a werewolf when she discovered Ekton was her true mate, and once we settle in on the couch I study her appearance. She hasn’t changed much except that she’s not wearing her glasses, and I guess vision is something becoming a werewolf can fix. I say, “Dr. Sand has a new plan.” I stop and regroup. “Let me start at the beginning. Esher Wakefield injected a vial of his blood into my veins seven years ago to cure me of leukemia, but now it’s back.”
Mia’s eyes widen. “Wow.” She frowns as she places her hand on my arm. The werewolf heat of her is hot enough that it burns through my shirt quickly.
“I can’t think about me right now. I’m sure your mind is racing with this news on so many fronts, and I promise I’ll answer all your questions, but we have something way more important to discuss. Dr. Sand knows about my cancer and has plans to capture Silver Lake wolves and test their blood on me.”
“Oh my god. Does she—”
“No,” I say. “She doesn’t know that I’ve already had werewolf blood in my system.”
“Good. So what’s her plan?”
Mia is aware that the government signed off on Dr. Sand, so I explain to her the doctor’s new approach using private funding. When I’m done, Mia is the one who paces in an effort to control her anger. She says, “You have to get out of there, Andi. Once we get you more werewolf blood she’s bound to figure out what you’ve done.” She stops moving to look at me. “Do you have a draw kit here?”
“No.” Realization hits me. “Oh, Mia. Were you going to give me your blood?”
“Of course, if you think it will work.”
I shrug. “That’s the thing. We don’t even know if Esher’s will work again, but we’re going to try tonight.”
“Okay, good. What can I do?”
“Tell your alpha what I’ve told you. Dr. Sand said it would be next week before they go after the wolves, and that will give you time to prepare.”
“Okay. I’ll go see Paul, our alpha.” The couch sinks when she sits next to me. “How do you know my mate’s older brother?”
“He was my boyfriend in college.”
She frowns for a second, and then her mouth opens a bit before she says, “You’re the one.”
Now it’s my turn to frown as hot shame floods my face. “I know. I’m the reason the wolves are in danger.”
Mia shakes her head as she says, “No. That’s not what I meant.” She stands and says, “I should go to Paul. But before I do, you have to promise me you won’t return to the lab, Andi. It’s not safe, even for you.”
I answer automatically, “Yeah, sure.” I’m the one? The one what? What exactly am I to Esher?
8
When Mia leaves, I’m so tired I lie down for a nap. But I don’t sleep as well as I had hoped, because my dreams are about wolves in cages, and I finally get up for a long, hot bath instead. The light floral scent of the salts I pour in float to my nose, and I lower myself into the warm water. My muscles relax as reality sinks in. I could die. And with that reality the tears come.
At first I cry because my life might be over, and I’ll never get married or be a mother. But that makes way to the idea that my career was ruined by Dr. Sand, and that after all I’ve done to fix my mistake, I may not be able to save the Silver Lake wolves after all. By the time my bath is cold, I’m a snotty mess, but I clean up and climb out with the relief a good cry can lend.
Even though my life is falling apart, I can’t help but be excited that I’m going to spend my evening with Esher. The slinky fabric of a light knit dress caresses my skin as I pull it on, and I smile at my reflection in the mirror when I sweep my hair up into a tousled-looking updo. I hope it makes the sexy werewolf want to thread his fingers through it.
Fifteen minutes later I turn onto the dirt road that leads to Esher’s house on Silver Lake. I descend down a hill and enjoy a beautiful view of the water as I drive. A dock extends in an L shape, and a small motorboat is next to it. Esher must have heard me pull in, because he steps through the door before I get to it.
I pick my way carefully across the gravel because of my heels, and Esher smiles as he comes to meet me. I say, “I brought dessert.” He takes the box from me and grabs my hand. As expected, his touch sends warmth all the way to the pit of my belly. The faint scent of a woodsy soap wraps around me. Esher says, “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I give him the once-over and take in the way his button-down shirt is rolled up to the elbows to expose his powerful forearms and how his slacks accentuate slim hips. “Dress clothes suit you.”
“Yeah?” He flashes his sexy smile, and I melt a little more. He says, “I just got home and didn’t have a chance to change.” We walk through an entryway to the kitchen. The cabinets and walls are white, while the countertops are blue. Beyond the breakfast bar is the living room, and it too is bright and cheery.
“What a beautiful home. Is there anything I can help you do?”
“Not a thing.” A stool scrapes across the floor as he pulls it out for me. “Sit here and keep me company while I make dinner. I hope you’re hungry.”
“I need to tell you something.” Esher holds the knife he picked up in midair, and I say, “Mia already knows what I’m about to say and has passed along the information to your alpha.” He lowers his hand as I continue, “Dr. Sand is aware that I’m sick, and she’s managed private funding for a mission to capture wolves in hopes they’re werewolves and their blood will cure me.”
He frowns. “She’s trying to save you?”
“Not exactly. She thinks she’s found the perfect test subject for her plan.”
The knife clatters on the counter when he sets it down. “You can’t go back there, Andi.”
“So people keep telling me. But don’t you see? I can do what I do best—mess things up.”
“No. It’s too dangerous.” Esher comes around to where I’m sitting. He sits on the stool beside me as I turn to face him.
“But—”
He grips my shoulders lightly. “Please. I’ve finally got you back in my life, and I don’t want to lose you again.”
I gaze into the face of the man that captured my heart years ago. I place my hand on his chest and say, “I feel so helpless.”
He says, “Let me help you for a change.”
I pull my hand back. It shouldn’t be so hard to accept the help I need. Without Esher’s blood, I don’t stand a chance and my days with him will be few. But if I do take it? Then I may get a lifetime to make things up to him. To win back his love.
I look into the eyes that drew me in from day one. “Okay.”
“Great. Let’s get my blood in you before dinner. I want plenty of time to make sure you’re not going to reject it.”
I nod when he stands and says, “I’ll be right back.”
He walks over to a bag by the door. The contents rattle as he searches for the blood draw kit. When he finds it, Esher says, “Come sit on the couch where we’ll be more comfortable.”
I lower myself onto a plush cushion that hugs my bottom, and I imagine it’s a great sofa for napping. Esher sets out the equipment on the coffee table, and I pick up the tourniquet. “Should I do this for you?” The vinyl strip shakes with my trembling as I lift it.
He sits next to me and t
akes my face in his hands. “I’m not going to let you die, Andi.”
I nod, and he kisses me roughly before he begins to unbutton his shirt. I guess it’s so he won’t stain it, but I’m more interested in what it reveals. When he’s done, I loop the tourniquet around his upper arm and yank it tight. Esher sticks himself with ease. I watch deep-burgundy liquid fill a test tube. The fluid that may save my life.
When it’s my turn to receive his blood I kiss him and say, “I don’t deserve you, but I’m so glad you don’t care.”
His gaze is intense as he says, “You’re wrong, Andi. I care deeply.”
The needle pricks my skin, and when liquid life enters my vein it spreads the familiar warmth of my savior up my arm and straight to my heart. I love you, Esher.
Esher smiles at me, and I imagine he says “I love you too” before he focuses on removing the needle from my arm. Esher applies pressure to the wound as he lessens the tourniquet. I grasp his hand and say, “Thank you.” I don’t release my grip right away, because this time I’m not letting him go.
9
After Esher gave me his blood, I sat at the counter while he made us pasta. We laughed about old times and shared stories from the years that have passed since. We move over to the couch to eat our carrot cake. I gaze out the windows that overlook the lake. The moon is almost full, and it shimmers on the calm water. I say, “You must love this view.”
“I do. I’m glad I finally get to share it with you.” The heat of Esher’s thigh pressed up next to mine makes me lean into him for more. He slips his arm around my shoulders. “I’ve thought about having you here like this many times, but I was afraid you’d never come back to me. Lately I’d begun to give up hope.”
“What do you mean come back to you?”
