Human Error
Page 42
Emma’s head jerked up. “No, she enjoys it,” her voice rasped. “She loves you, and the alpha, and me and Sharone and Marcy and Kate. But she’s convinced she’ll die young and the world won’t miss one insignificant Coyote Breed.” Emma’s shoulders shook with silent sobs once more as Anya turned to Del-Rey, a free arm wrapping around her to drag her against him.
The air of grief that hung over the waiting room was a silent testament to the love they all had for the too tiny, too fragile young woman who acted as though she were made of titanium rather than flesh and bone.
Looking over Anya’s head to his brother, his second-in-command once again, Del-Rey watched as Brim lifted his head to stare at the ceiling, blinking quickly before lowering it to stare at the floor once again.
Ashley was everyone’s kid sister, and Brim took that responsibility seriously. He teased, chided and often shook his head over the girl’s antics, but it was invariably Brim that convinced Del-Rey to give Ashley her spa days when she was being punished for endangering herself, or to ease up on her and let her have a new pair of shoes when she forgot to complete some chore in the Citadel, the lone tower of a mountain overlooking Haven that the coyote Breeds controlled.
And now, it was Brim bearing the brunt of the guilt for allowing her to travel to Window Rock when she pleaded so prettily to visit friends there.
It wasn’t as though she would be the lone Breed there. Felines and Wolf Breeds had established minor bases there at the invitation of the Navajo Nation once their genetic ties were revealed. It wasn’t as safe as The Citadel, Haven or Sanctuary, but it was safer than other locations she could have requested to go to.
Brim had approved the trip, and now Ashley lay fighting for her life because of her friendship and attempts to protect the niece of the Navajo chief.
Shifting the weight of his son on his shoulder, Del-Rey handed him over to his guardian, Sharone, as a newcomer entered.
“Del-Rey.” Dane Vanderale, heir to the Vanderale Legacy and the first known naturally conceived Breed hybrid stepped to him.
“Dane.” They didn’t shake hands, rather as the two men reach out, they gripped each others’ forearms in camaraderie.
“Is there anything we can do?” The Johannesburg accent was thicker than normal, a clear sign that Dane was furious.
Del-Rey shook his head heavily. “The man that did this is dead. I can think of nothing else that could be done unless you’re a miracle worker and you can wave your hand over that wound and fix it.”
Dane gripped his shoulder. “How about a far lesser gift. My men tracked down the two soldiers who were there to take Malachi’s mate. They hadn’t reported the mating yet, and they’ll be endangering no other mate.”
The savage gleam that flashed in his green eyes assured Del-Rey that those soldiers weren’t wasting valuable oxygen any longer either.
“Did you identify them?” Del-Rey asked.
Dane grimaced at the question, his voice lowering. “They were coyote, Del. Council held. They had never been a part of Citadel.”
That was a small comfort at best.
Wiping his hands over his face he turned to his mate.
Anya was there, her arms going around his waist as he pulled her to his side.
In that moment, Doctors Katya Sobolov and Nikki Armani stepped into the waiting area. More than thirty Breeds turned to them, automatically shifting and parting to allow their alpha and his coya to meet them.
“Doctors.” Del-Rey nodded grimly.
“She’s still alive,” Katya stated, her expression drawn and exhausted after the hours spent in surgery.
“But?” Del-Rey injected. He swore he could feel it coming.
Katya looked away from a moment, obviously battling her emotions as the scent of grief touched his senses and clenched his chest.
“But, the next twenty-four hours will be the most difficult for her,” she said somberly. “For all her bravado and strength, Ashley is too delicate for such a severe wound. She lost a lot of blood, Del-Rey.” Her voice became an emotional rasp. “The bullet was difficult to extract, and it did a lot of damage going in.” Her breathing hitched.
“Katya, your emotions,” Nikki reminded her coolly before turning to the wolf Breed alpha that had flown in with them. “Wolfe, Katya needs something hot and sweet to drink. She’s tired.”
Wolfe, with his mate, Hope, moved to the young doctor, leading her from the waiting room gently as Nikki turned to the coyotes.
“I’ve seen many of you survive worse wounds,” she stated, her voice resonating with strength and hope. “I’ve seen much, much weaker women survive worse. Right now, her survival depends upon her and her will to live. And I know Ashley, trust me, she does not want her sisters spending the slush fund her alpha set aside for their nails and clothes.”
There was a general round of husky chuckles until Brim pushed through the crowd and left the waiting area. The mood turned grim once again.
“I don’t want to risk transferring her to Haven or the Citadel until tomorrow morning. At that time, I’ll need a medi-jet loaded with this equipment and waiting on the hospital’s flight pad.” She handed Del-Rey her list. “Contact Haven and your people at the Citadel. There are some supplies that only the Citadel has that we’ll need for transport.”
Ashley wasn’t just going to shake this off, that was the message the doctor was giving them.
Del-Rey took the list before handing it to the coyote administrator next to him. “Take care of it.”
The Breed nodded briskly before moving off.
“Katya’s emotions break after surgery,” Nikki sighed. “She’s pure hell in that operating room. As cool and precise as any surgeon I’ve ever laid my eyes on. But she breaks while she’s cleaning up. I’ve never seen her break like this though.”
“She grew up with Ashley,” Del-Rey sighed. “Sometimes, it’s hard to believe they’re so close in age.”
Nikki nodded in agreement. “I believe she’s going to make it, Del-Rey,” she told him softly. “She’s a fighter and she’s stubborn as hell. That’s all she needs.”
It was the only hope she could offer them.
Del-Rey turned to the coyotes gathered behind him. “We take her home in the morning,” he announced. “Until then, any Breed that lashes out, becomes involved in a physical or verbal altercation with any human or other Breed, or in any way detracts from Ashley’s protection or our ability to protect her, will answer to me. Is that clear?”
Coyote Breeds could often be more hotheaded than the other species who were taught patience and logic over physical recklessness.
“It’s clear, Del.” One of the team alphas nodded firmly. “And if anyone needs reminding, then team alphas will take care of it.”
Pride surged through Del-Rey. This was a vast improvement on months past when he’d been forced to have several enforcers cool their heels in a human jail cell for starting a bar fight. The coyotes were growing, adapting, they were maturing, and the proof of it was in the face of every coyote Breed there.
“You have a hell of a pack, Del-Rey,” Dane’s voice echoed with the respect Del-Rey and his men had fought to attain. “If you need anything, anything at all.” Dane’s look became more intent, somber. “The Vanderales are here for you. Welcome to the family.”
This time, it was a handshake, and one Del-Rey hadn’t been expecting. Not that he showed it. Inclining his head with calm acceptance, his handshake was firm, confident.
Vanderale’s acceptance was the final hurdle to ensuring the survival of his people. Vanderale Enterprises “gifted” Haven and Sanctuary with all their military toys and were essential contacts to many of the military security contracts that were lining the wolf and feline Breed coffers. Del-Rey was eager to join the family, to gain for his people what the wolf and feline Breeds were kind enough to share with the coyotes. They wanted their own.
Breathing in deeply he turned and let his gaze flicker to the far hall and the wing he knew
they were keeping Ashley in. Brim was with her, and that was the best protection she could have, but Del-Rey ached to see the young woman he had come to call “sister.”
Turning to where Malachi and his mate sat on one of the far couches, Del-Rey made his way to them. Sadly, the scent of heat was, for the moment, cool. Isabelle’s bruising and injuries had been such that it didn’t endanger her life, but it had endangered Malachi’s ability to enjoy his mate until she healed. But the coyote seemed content to take care of her. Like all male Breed mates, his devotion to her was clearly apparent.
Breeds didn’t throw away what human men took for granted. Their mates were everything to them, and Malachi was no different.
They rose to their feet.
“I’m sorry, Del-Rey,” Isabelle whispered, the proof of the tears she had been shedding showing in her red-rimmed eyes. “None of us expected Holden to do something like this.”
Del-Rey shook his head. “No fault lies at your feet,” he swore to her. He glanced at Isabelle and the exhaustion and bruises on her face. “Take your mate to the hotel, Malachi, so she can rest. There’s nothing more that can be done here. We’ll head home first thing in the morning.”
“I’ll take you up on that, Alpha Delgado,” Malachi stated. “And once we’ve arrived at the Citadel, we need to talk. There’s far more interesting information here than any of us imagined.”
Del-Rey’s brow lifted. More information? And from the sounds of it, something that didn’t want to wait.
“Tomorrow evening,” Del-Rey promised them. “Until then, get some sleep.”
As they moved away Del-Rey sat down on a nearby couch and watched as his men began filtering from the waiting room, moving to find their hotels, a meal or a drink. He only prayed they managed to stay out of trouble.
He added that prayer to another. The prayer that Ashley was soon her bright and vivacious self again. Because if anything happened to her, Del-Rey feared that the war between Breeds and the remaining Council would only heat up further. Ashley was well loved by all the packs and prides, considered a little sister, a sometimes irritant, and represented all their dreams of a future. Because Ashley laughed. She played. She pulled pranks. But even more, Ashley reminded them all of what they wanted their children to be.
Full of fun and full of life.
Losing her could very well tip the balance and change the silent war with the Council to one that the world would clearly see in the color of blood.
And that was something none of them could afford.
TWO DAYS LATER
Malachi let his lips coast over the bruising of his mate’s face as she lay before him, naked, aroused. The past two days had been free of the mating heat, the injuries sustained to her body evidently severe enough that it had ameliorated the effects of the heat.
The glands beneath his tongue hadn’t swelled, the hormone absent until he’d awakened minutes earlier. Now, they were fully swollen, his cock engorged and throbbing, hunger pounding through his system and carrying with it the heightened hunger that affected Breeds and their mates during mating heat.
He wasn’t the only one affected. His mate was moving against him, her thighs clasping one of his, the wet heat of her pussy rubbing against it. The swollen bud of her clit was a heated little rasp against his thigh as her sharp little nails bit into his shoulders.
His lips roamed along her jaw then to her lips, teasing them both with the need for the taste of the passion burning between them.
“You’re killing me,” she whispered, arching to him, her hard little nipples burning into his chest as he brushed his lips over hers.
“I’ve missed you, mate.”
The hormone hadn’t tormented them, but his need for her had still been there, keeping him semi-aroused and all too aware of her naked body against him each night.
He brushed his lips against hers again, groaning as she nipped at them, daring him to take her kiss as she needed. Slanting his head he took a hungry taste of her, still holding back, returning for another as she moaned beneath him, her nails rasping down his back.
The pinprick of sensation was his undoing. Added to the hunger raging brutally between them Malachi parted his lips against hers, parting hers, his tongue forging inside as she took it with a hungry little feminine growl of her own.
Isabelle whimpered at the pleasure, twisting against him, the rasp of her nipples against his chest adding to the burning hunger attacking the rest of her body.
Clamping her lips around his tongue as it thrust in and out of her mouth, she fought for every taste of the mating hormone spilling from his tongue. That unique, subtle, addictive quality of the mating heat pushing the hunger pounding through her that much higher.
She needed him.
“Now,” she cried out as he pulled back to steal of the roughened, hungry kisses to her lips only before he turned his head to taste her jaw, to rasp his teeth against her neck. “Don’t wait, Malachi. I need you.”
He needed her just as desperately.
Isabelle spread her thighs as he moved, eagerly clasping his hips with her knees as he settled between them, the heavy width of his cock pressing between the swollen folds of her pussy.
The first, hard spurt of the pre-seminal fluid heated the entrance, the muscles flexing, milking against the overly wide crest as it began to push inside her.
The second spurt preceded the first, shallow thrust that buried the crest inside the burning depths of her sex. Pulling back, pushing inside once again, another spurt eased the natural, clenching tightness of her muscles further inside.
Each spurt of fluid was followed by a deeper thrust, a sensual pleasure-pain that had her crying out, arching closer as she ached for more, ached to feel his plunging inside her, taking her with the hungry desperation burning through both of them.
Coming over her, the fingers of one hand clenched on her hip as he gave a heavy groan and surged in to the hilt. That first deep, exciting full thrust unlocked the control he’d been carefully keeping.
His lips buried in the curve of her neck as he began moving, thrusting powerfully inside her, taking her to the base of his cock with every dip of his hips as Isabelle opened her thighs wider to take him even deeper. Her knees gripped his hips, her hips angling higher, cries escaping her throat as she felt pleasure rising fast and hard. There was no holding it back. There was no stopping this first, hungry need burning through them.
It felt as though it had been forever since she’d taken him. A lifetime since he had been able to hold her as she needed. Her orgasm rose, pushing higher through her senses, flooding them both with the sensations racing through them.
His thrusts became harder, faster. Each stroke rasping and caressing nerve endings so violently sensitive there was no way she could have held back longer.
Their release rushed over them. Like a firestorm out of control and exploding to consume everything in its wake. Ecstasy was a blaze that filled her mind, her senses, exploding through every cell of her body as she felt the first hard spurt of his release and the heavy swelling that stretched her, burned her and sent the catastrophic surge of pure rapture tearing through her.
With his teeth locked at the base of her neck Malachi shuddered with each spurt of his own release. The pulse of semen was another caress, another explosion burning through her.
As it eased, they were left exhausted, their breathing harsh in the dim silence of the room as Isabelle heard her own, tiny whimpers escaping her throat at each renewed pulse of incredible sensation caused by the swelling that throbbed against once hidden nerve endings.
Could she live without this, without him?
She’d waited too long, watched the nights for too many years, and dreamed too deeply of having that something, that emotion so unknown that her restlessness had tormented her.
She didn’t want to live without him now.
Drowsy, ready to slip back into sleep, Isabelle moaned in loss as she felt the swelling recede and heard Malachi’s ple
asured groan as he slipped from her and collapsed to the bed beside her.
He pulled her against him, the warmth of his body shielding her, wrapping around her as she sighed at the perfect ending to the hunger that had flared so bright and hot. His hand smoothed along her shoulder, pushing back the damp ends of her hair as he kissed her temple gently.
“Del-Rey called while you were sleeping,” he said, his voice still darker, deeper from the release they had just shared.
“Ashley?” Fear suddenly intruded, her gaze lifting to his at the thought of the fight her friend had gone through to simply live.
They had already nearly lost her twice. The wolf and coyote Breed doctors had fought desperately to keep her with them. They had brought her back each time, then sat sobbing with the alpha females of the packs and prides as they crashed from the fear and desperation each battle had wrought.
“She woke a few hours ago,” he told her. “She was asking for you.” He held her still as she started to rise. “Dr. Sobolov asked that we wait till afternoon to come in and see her. She’s still weak and tires easily. Her transfer back to the Citadel has been delayed again. Del-Rey doesn’t want to risk a setback or any complications. He’s waiting until she’s well enough to travel without the machines helping her to live.”
“She’s going to be okay?” she whispered, desperate, the guilt of her friend’s injuries flaying her with a harsh lash.
“She’s going to be okay.” The edge of relief in his voice reassured her now. “Her recovery won’t happen overnight, and as we learned with the feline alpha’s injuries when he took a bullet to the chest over a year ago, it can come with complications as they heal, but she is healing.”
Tears filled her eyes and slipped down her face despite her battle to hold them back. Malachi wiped them away with the edge of his thumb before laying a kiss at the corner of her lips.
“It wasn’t your fault, Isabelle,” he whispered, not for the first time. “None of it was your fault.”