by J. D. Tyler
Doubling his effort, he tried to pin the gray wolf and managed to sink his teeth into one muscled shoulder. The taste of blood spurred him on as the gray cried out—
And then a sharp pain stung his right hip.
The brown wolf yelped, releasing his prey. Whirled and saw the dart sticking out of his flank. Right away, cold spread out from the spot with bony fingers, crawled through his muscles. They contracted and he began to shake, struggling to remain upright, but it was no use. Hitting the floor, he whimpered in fear, paralyzed.
Footsteps hurried all around him, people speaking in hushed tones.
“Where’s Mac?”
“On her way with a team.”
“Micah, it’s okay,” Rowan whispered near his face. She was crouched next to him, stroking his hair.
When had he shifted back to human form?
“Wh-what happened?” he croaked.
“You don’t remember?”
“No.”
“It’s okay,” she crooned. He heard the tears in her voice. “Just rest, bro.”
“D-don’t feel good.”
“I know. It’s that damn drug, honey. They’re going to get rid of it, I promise.”
What had he done? Mac would lock him up now, keep him from his mate.
“No.”
His eyelids were so heavy. He couldn’t keep them open, so he let them drift shut. Tried to listen to the whispered conversation around him.
“Do you have to lock him up? His wolf was upset, and he lost it. Hell, I might’ve done the same if I found out one of you had been with Kira before we met.”
That’s right. He’d attacked Jax. And the man was actually worried. Not angry.
“There’s more going on than you know.” Mac’s voice, kind but firm. “Let us take care of him.”
“But—”
“Look, he’s got a nosebleed,” Aric said. “What’s up with that?”
“He’ll be all right.”
Someone cleaned him up. Then hands lifted him carefully onto a stretcher, secured him. Noah’s quiet reassurances soothed him as they started rolling him away.
Would he be all right? He wasn’t so sure. All he knew was they were taking him somewhere to be shut away from his mate. Perhaps they’d never let him out.
His wolf’s mournful howl followed him into unsettling dreams.
* * *
Nick surveyed the damage to the recreation room with a heavy heart. The last time he’d been this afraid for one of his team was when he’d met Kalen Black.
More than just Micah’s body had been damaged by Gene Bowman and his evil crew—his spirit had taken a near-lethal blow. What had been left behind was a twisted mess of a man and his wolf. But not broken. Despite Bowman’s horrible experiments, the bad reaction to the myst, and Micah’s trouble getting his head straight, that was one glimmer of light that remained—they had pushed Micah to the very limit of his endurance and sanity, but they had not managed to break him.
The other was Jacee. A wolf would swim an ocean for his mate. Battle an army without a single weapon, save what nature gave him. Micah finding her couldn’t have come at a better time, and she just might be his saving grace.
If Mac could just get that damn drug out of Micah’s system, get his head clear, the man might have a fighting chance.
But there was more trouble coming. The past wasn’t finished with the wolf, not by a long shot. Micah had to get himself together, or his enemy, when he finally chose to strike, would win. Nick had tried to impress that upon the younger wolf, and he could only hope his words had taken root.
Because he’d interfered in the matter all he possibly could. He’d warned Micah of the coming danger, and that was all he could do. He’d promised himself long ago to never tamper with free will again.
And Nick was nothing if not a man of his word.
Get strong, Micah. Death is coming for you.
For both of you.
Six
When Micah awoke, he was restrained.
Flat on his back, on a hospital bed, in a stark white room, he stared at the ceiling and tried to shake the muzzy fog from his brain. They’d sedated him. After what he’d done, he couldn’t blame them.
Despair threatened to overwhelm him. Not even two days had passed since his promise to keep himself in check, and he’d failed. How much of his loss of control could really be blamed on the myst? How much of it was simply the fact that he was ruined beyond redemption, deep in his soul?
He tried to move his arms again, but his wrists were securely fastened to the rails of his bed, as were his ankles. Though he knew Mac and her team wouldn’t hurt him, unreasonable fear churned in his guts. Both he and his wolf hated being tied down, left vulnerable. They hated being alone, too. Wanted their mate.
But Micah didn’t want her to see him like this. Never.
As the sedation wore off a little more, he realized he was nauseated. Anxious, too. Twitchy. He felt like he was going to crawl right out of his skin, and wished he had one or two of his pills to take away the terrible sensation. He knew then what was happening.
Withdrawal. They were detoxing him, the hard way.
“Oh, fuck.” Sweat broke out on his face, his chest. The nausea in his gut worsened by the minute and he prayed he didn’t get sick on himself, stuck like this.
He was concentrating on breathing without throwing up when the door opened. Mac hurried in, flanked by his sister, Aric, and Nick.
“Good, you’re awake,” Mac said by way of greeting. She was as serious as he’d ever seen her. So, for that matter, were the others in the room. Rowan even looked like she’d been crying, but surely that was the lighting. The group came to stand around Micah’s bed as the doctor continued.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sick. Like I’m going to vomit. My head is starting to pound.”
Mac laid a hand on his knee. “That’s to be expected during withdrawal. But I’m afraid you’re going to feel a whole lot worse before you get better.”
Dread made his heart pound. “Well, I don’t know how I’m supposed to throw up in this position, Doc. I’ll choke.”
“We’ll unfasten one of your wrists so you can lean over to the side. Once you’re detoxed you won’t be restrained at all. But that’s not really what I’m talking about.” Mac paused, as if thinking over what she had to tell him. “Your blood work came back from the lab, and we’ve isolated the anomaly.”
“You have? That’s good, right?”
“It’s good that we’ve learned what’s going on in your system besides your reaction to the myst, yes. But, Micah, it’s the anomaly itself that’s going to present the greater problem in getting you healthy.” Taking a seat beside his bed, she gripped his hand.
On his other side, Rowan did the same, as Aric and Nick came to stand at the foot of the bed. Shit, this must be bad. Everyone in the room was looking at him as if their dog had just been hit by a car.
“Micah, you have leukemia,” Mac said softly.
That statement split the quiet in the room like a knife. There was no sound except the tick of the clock on the wall and his own breathing. He couldn’t make sense of the words. Words that should no longer have any meaning in his world. Confusion buzzed in his brain.
“But I’m not human anymore,” he whispered. “That shouldn’t be possible.”
Rowan started crying. Even Aric appeared on the verge. Yeah, he was fucked.
“It shouldn’t,” the doc agreed. “But something that was done to you in Bowman’s lab screwed with your biology. My best educated guess is he tried some cross-splicing you with several other subjects. Your immunities were weakened, and a door was left open for illness.”
“That’s why I haven’t been feeling well?”
“I’m afraid so. I believe the myst is responsible for your temper, nosebleeds, and migraines, while the leukemia is making you tired and causing you to lose your appetite.”
“How far along is it?”
“Advanced. If you were human, you’d already be dead. Your shifter half is fighting it every step of the way, but the tests show it’s not stopping.”
“All right.” Micah swallowed hard. “What’s the plan? And I hope to hell you have one.”
“I do. First, you detox as scheduled. We have no time to waste because we need to move on to fighting your illness.”
“How do we do that? Chemo?”
“No. If your shifter half can’t defeat it, then human methods certainly aren’t going to work. We need stronger reinforcements, and that’s where we thank whatever higher power there is in the universe that you’ve met your mate. We’ve also got our vampire allies we can call on now. I’m sure Calla will send for their doctor if we need him.”
“She will,” Nick confirmed. “Just say the word and she’ll fetch Vicktor.”
Micah fixed on the first part of that. “Jacee? She can help?”
“I believe so,” Mac said. “If she’ll consent, and I don’t see why she wouldn’t, we’ll use her healthier blood to clean yours.”
“If that doesn’t work?”
“We’ll call for the vampire doctor and use one of their clan’s donors.”
“And then, if that doesn’t do the trick, either?”
“We won’t give up. We’ll keep looking for a solution.”
Meaning they’d be out of options. Micah looked at Nick. “Did you know about this?”
“I didn’t. I swear I never saw this coming, or I would’ve told you. I don’t consider it tampering to tell someone they have a serious illness so they can get treatment. I would never let that go.”
Micah believed him. The commander appeared miserable over it. Micah nodded and addressed Mac again. “So, detox and mate’s blood. Bada-bing, good as new.”
The doc smiled a little. “Let’s keep that attitude. Okay, I’ll be back later to check on you. Noah’s going to take care of you, and your family will take turns staying here.”
“I’ll go find Jacee and bring her here,” Nick said.
A jolt of panic shot through him. “No, not here. I don’t want her to see me like this.”
Rowan shook her head. “Micah, she’s your mate. Not only will she want to be by your side—she has every right to be.”
“No. If any of you even think of letting her see me in this condition, I’ll find a way to leave. I mean it.”
From the glances the group exchanged, they were more than a little frustrated with him. But his first instinct was to protect his mate from unpleasantness, and that’s what he’d do.
“So, who gets to babysit me first?”
“I’m staying,” Rowan insisted.
Nick and Aric promised to be back later as well, and left. Rowan talked to him for a while, chatting about nonsense while he mostly listened. Then he drifted sleepily for a while before going under. He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but when he woke up, his head was splitting and his body was on fire. Pain. Every muscle burned. His stomach lurched, and he knew he was going to be sick.
Finding that his left hand was free, he rolled to his right side and leaned over the bed. Instantly his sister was there with a wastebasket, holding it with one hand and his hair with the other while he emptied what little was in his stomach. She talked to him quietly as he moaned.
“It’s going to be okay. Shh, you’re all right.”
When he was done, Noah helped him swish out his mouth, then took the bucket away. Micah slumped back on the pillows, exhausted. His body wouldn’t let him rest, though. His head and limbs still hurt, and he felt hot.
“How long?” he managed.
“What, since Mac was here and told you what was happening?”
“Yes.”
“A couple of hours. Nick went to look for Jacee.” She stroked his hair, and it felt nice. “I still think you should let her stay with you.”
“No.”
She didn’t push any more at the moment, but he knew she wouldn’t give up. Then he couldn’t think because a new wave of pain and sickness rocked him, this time accompanied by the shakes. Whatever his sister said, he didn’t hear.
The darkness took him again.
* * *
Jacee checked her phone for the sixth or seventh time that afternoon. Weird that Micah hadn’t sent any more cute texts, though she figured he was busy.
She told herself she was being stupid. The man was a black ops shifter with an important job. He didn’t always have time to indulge them, even if they were missing each other. If the bar was busier today, maybe she wouldn’t be aching for him so much. She could put their lovemaking out of her head for five minutes and not anticipate when they could be together again.
Yeah, right.
With a bored sigh, she wiped down the bar, then started polishing glasses and putting them away. A couple of regulars sitting at stools on one end asked for beers, but nothing kept her occupied for long.
When the door opened and Nick walked in, she was surprised to see him at the Grizzly in the middle of the afternoon. Unlike when he usually visited the establishment these days, he wasn’t wearing a smile, either. His purposeful walk, back straight, eyes locked on her, expression dead serious, gave her a chill.
“Commander Westfall,” she said in greeting. “What’s your poison today?”
“It’s Nick, please.”
“Okay, Nick. What’ll it be?”
“I can’t stay today, Jacee, and neither can you,” he said in a low voice, leaning on the counter. “I need you to come back to the compound with me.”
She stared at him, dread welling in her throat. She wasn’t stupid—if Nick was here asking that, and not Micah, that could only mean one thing. “What’s wrong with Micah? What’s happened?”
“Not here. Go tell Jack you have a family emergency and you might be gone at least two weeks.”
“Two weeks! I’ll lose my job.”
“You won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”
Her mind reeled. “Okay. Except Jack knows I don’t have a family.”
“You do now. We’re your family,” he said firmly. “Tell Jack your fiancé is sick and in the hospital. That’s pretty much the truth.”
“No.” She swayed, her vision blurring, and he steadied her. “I just found him, Nick. Nothing can happen to him now.”
“Go, and hurry. We still need to go by your place to pack a couple of bags.”
Hurrying, she did as she was told. Jack wasn’t happy at first, but when he saw how truly upset she was, he relented and told her not to worry. He’d call in a substitute bartender until she returned. Thanking him, she jogged out to meet Nick.
Together, they got into a black Escalade, and he pulled out of the parking lot. She gave him directions to her house, and in no time, they had arrived. He still hadn’t given her details, but she concentrated on getting her things together. It was more important she get on the road first, details later.
After packing her clothes and toiletries, she lifted a large duffel bag onto her shoulder and went out to the living room, where Nick waited. He took the bag from her, and she didn’t protest.
“You have someone to take care of your garden out back? I was looking out the window, and it’s quite nice.”
“Thanks. Yes, I’ll call my next-door neighbor. She’ll take care of it until I can get back here.”
“Good. Ready?”
“Yeah.”
Nick stowed her bag in the back of the Escalade, and then they were on their way. Finally, he asked, “Has Micah told you about his kidnapping and the months he spent in captivity?”
“He did, and it must’ve been horrible.” She studied the man carefully. “Is that what’s causing him problems now?”
“Pretty much, yes.”
“I’ve noticed he seems tired, and when we went to dinner, he didn’t eat with the hearty appetite of a man his size with the physical nature of his job. At least in my opinion.”
“You’re right, and that was a good observation. First
of all, when Micah was rescued, he was severely traumatized and had gaps in his memory. He couldn’t recall a thing about his time in the lab. Then he started having nightmares and eventually realized they were memories.”
“So, it’s all coming back.”
“Yes. Our doctors put him on a drug called myst to help him cope during therapy, while he healed. It’s an antidepressant aimed at shifters. But we recently learned that Micah’s body hasn’t taken the drug very well. We’re pretty sure it’s responsible for his mood swings, and it’s giving him nosebleeds and headaches.”
“So they’ll just wean him off, right? That’s why he’s in the hospital, to let it clear his system?”
“Yes, but there was a complication,” Nick replied. “The myst wasn’t responsible for making him tired or for his loss of appetite. Dr. Grant had some tests run, and those came back this morning.”
Jacee frowned. “He’s a shifter. What on earth could be making him so sick that he can’t heal on his own?”
The commander didn’t answer until he’d driven all the way to the compound and through the tall security gates. He waited until he’d driven down the long road to the facility and parked outside a brand-new-looking building that had the name SANCTUARY etched into the stonework above the grand entrance. The he shut off the ignition and turned to face her.
Reaching over, he put his hand on her shoulder. “Jacee, Micah has leukemia.”
“I— What? What did you say?” She blinked at Nick, shook her head. “No. That’s not possible.”
“I’m afraid it is,” he said sadly. “Whatever that bastard did to him in the lab left him vulnerable. It’s highly possible that had he never been turned into a shifter, he would’ve gotten the disease long before now.”
“He has cancer. In his blood.” Not Micah. This could not happen to her mate. “I won’t accept this. What can I do to help him?”
Nick smiled a little. “I figured you’d say that, which is why you’re here. Mac is going to try transfusing some of your blood into Micah’s, in doses. We’re hoping the healing power of your blood as his mate will cleanse the cancer from his. If that doesn’t work, my mate, Calla, will call on her clan’s doctor to come and use vampire blood.”
