Hearts and Minds (A Shifter Chronicles Story, Sequel to Healing Minds)

by M. D. Grimm

  Josh vaguely noticed all this and suddenly felt exhausted. He swallowed hard and looked away. His adrenaline was fading, the cold finally penetrating. The air felt heavy, damp. Were they to get snow?

  “Let’s get back. Get you some clothes,” he said.

  “Telling me what to do now?”

  “Fine!” Josh threw up his hands and walked away, turning his back to Xavier. “Stand here naked for all I care. Let everyone have a good stare. Your body, your decision. I don’t own you as you seem to think you own me.”

  “I didn’t say I owned you—”

  “Yes, you did!” Josh whirled around, knowing his face was red with anger. “You forbid me. You order me. What about that doesn’t scream ownership?”

  Xavier bared his teeth and ran both hands through his hair. “Fenris in fucking chains, Josh. You could’ve been killed—”

  “You were nearly killed. What the hell were you thinking, jumping at Freddie that way?”

  “I was protecting you.”

  “I would have shot him if you hadn’t gotten in my way.”

  Xavier let out a growl and tugged at his hair. “You stubborn bastard. Don’t you get it? I can’t fucking lose you!”

  “Well, I can’t fucking lose you, either.” Feeling deflated, Josh’s shoulders dropped, and he heaved a large sigh. “You need to trust me to handle myself, Xavier. I’m not helpless. I’m not some damsel who needs to hide in a tower.”

  Xavier stared at him for a silent moment. He swallowed. “I know. I know that. You just… you scared the shit out of me. I can’t lose you, not ever. You’re my heart.”

  Josh felt his eyes and throat burn. “Dammit. I love you, too.”

  Xavier nodded. “Okay, let’s go back. We’ll deal with the truck tomorrow.”

  Josh nodded and stuffed the tranquilizer gun in his pocket. Xavier shifted back into his wolf and trotted beside Josh as they returned to the clinic.

  The tension stayed with them, and Xavier hated it. He let Josh tell the others what happened while he walked to their bedroom and shifted back to human form. He sat on their bed, exhausted. The fear had gripped him by the throat, and only now that it was loosening did he feel the pain from the attack, especially the side of his face where Freddie had smacked him good. A look in the mirror showed that it was already bruising. The room was warm, and he shivered slightly as his body slowly warmed up. Josh entered the room with a first aid kit and shut the door. Silently, he tended to Xavier’s other wounds, which weren’t serious. Xavier focused on Josh’s soft touch and let it calm him. His mate was there, alive—pissed as hell but alive. His face was still red, though it no longer matched the shade of his hair. His eyes showed his exhaustion but also his indignation.

  Yeah, okay, maybe he’d said the wrong things, but could he be blamed? His life really began when he met Josh. Josh had helped him overcome the voice that had urged him to kill other shifters. Josh had given his sanity back to him. How could he not want to lock Josh in a tower to keep him safe?

  “I love you ridiculously,” Xavier whispered. He dared to meet Josh’s eyes. What he saw in them relieved more of the tension in his muscles.

  “Love you, too. Idiot.” Josh smiled slightly.

  Xavier hesitantly leaned forward, and when Josh didn’t move, he pressed their foreheads together. Then he grabbed his hand, holding it loosely.

  “You need a shower.” Josh gently nudged Xavier’s shoulder.

  “Only if you come with me.”

  Josh’s smile widened. “I can do that.”

  At first they didn’t touch each other in the shower, as there were still things that needed to be discussed, and the tension was still there, a live thing between them. But it relieved him that Josh was there, smiling, still in love. He wasn’t surprised they’d finally hit on a major argument. It felt as though it was overdue. Things had apparently been going too smoothly for them.

  But to see Josh’s naked, wet body only inches away, was a slow torture. When Josh leaned back to rinse out his hair, Xavier couldn’t stop the impulse that had him reaching forward and sliding his own hands through Josh’s red curls, enjoying the intimate pleasure. Josh opened his clear blue eyes and made no move to stop him. Their bodies bumped and Josh gripped Xavier’s forearms, those eyes never leaving his face.

  Once Josh’s hair was clean, Xavier dropped his hands, unsure how much Josh would let him touch. But then Josh leaned closer and laid his cheek against his shoulder, wrapped his arms around his waist. Xavier closed his eyes and held Josh close, suddenly feeling as though the world before had been spiraling uncontrollably, and now it settled, slowed down. He was anchored once again, just by holding his mate.

  After drying themselves, they walked to the bed. Night had fallen, and as Josh made no mention of food, neither did he. Xavier wasn’t hungry, he was just tired. Josh still curled against him like he always did, and Xavier welcomed the warmth. It was good they didn’t talk yet, since everything he had to say would probably piss Josh off. How could he clearly explain to Josh that it was his job to protect him? It was his mission, his prerogative. He would always shield Josh, always kill to protect him, without remorse, without hesitation. He’d use all the skill and paramilitary training his pack had given him to protect the one that meant the most to him. The one that Xavier firmly believed was his barrier against insanity. He and his wolf agreed on that… the voice might be gone, but who said it wouldn’t come back if Josh was no longer there, ready to kick it out again?

  Xavier kissed Josh’s forehead, his heavy breathing indicating that he was already asleep. Josh would simply have to accept that. When it came to dealing with violent shifters, Xavier was the one who would take point. He was the one who’d take the risks. Agency training or not, Josh wasn’t equipped to handle such things. It would only take one wrong move, one wrong decision, and he’d lose the most precious thing in his life.

  Xavier woke slightly several hours later, and as Josh was warm and still snuggled against him, he slid his hands down and grabbed Josh’s cock. Josh murmured something and moved closer, though only half awake. He kissed Josh’s face while stroking his cock with one hand and stroking his own with the other.

  Things could have gone so differently yesterday.

  Xavier squeezed tighter, tugged harder, and Josh’s breath hitched, his eyes opening halfway. Josh languidly touched Xavier’s stomach before drifting his hand down and covered Xavier’s hand where he stroked himself. On contact, Xavier let go and groaned as he allowed Josh’s touch to take over. He cupped the back of Josh’s head and kissed him gently, needing to taste him. Josh’s stroking became more vigorous as he woke up further.

  Their scents mingled and filled the room, making Xavier slightly dizzy. Josh now used both hands on him, ripping one long groan from him. Xavier stroked Josh faster, encouraged by his mate’s moans and panting breaths. Josh came first, his seed spilling over Xavier’s hand. But Josh never stopped stroking, and Xavier came, momentarily going blind.

  Panting, they came back together, tightly holding each other. Josh kissed his chest. Xavier kissed the top of his head. It was useless to think “what if,” such as: What if Josh had been in the same room as Freddie when his fit was triggered? Xavier slammed a door on those thoughts and closed his eyes, ordering himself to sleep.

  Xavier woke before Josh and rolled over to check the time: 11:30 a.m. Not really surprising considering the events of yesterday and his own fitful sleep. After finishing his normal morning routine, never once disturbing Josh, he walked downstairs and into the kitchen. He ate a bowl of cereal absently, his mind replaying the events of the day before. His gut twisted, but he forced himself to keep eating, to keep calm. He would have killed Freddie if that bear had laid one claw on Josh. It had been best for everyone involved that Josh, with his amazing ability, hadn’t allowed that to happen. Josh’s bravery scared him sometimes, even as it filled him with pride.

  Misty had called Rita the night before, and Xavier wondered if she’d a
rrived yet, if she’d seen her son.

  As he put the dishes in the dishwasher and pulled out his phone, it rang.

  “What?”

  “It’s Jack,” the sheriff said. “Your patient’s awake, and his mother just arrived. She’s demanding answers. You want to handle it, or should I?”

  Xavier glanced at the ceiling, thinking about Josh. “No, I’ll handle it.”

  After slipping on a warm jacket, he stepped outside. Still no snow, but he could smell the potential in the air. He hopped on his motorcycle, which was kept in a small shed beside the clinic, and was soon speeding down the lane, ignoring the beauty of the sun-tinted mountains, barely noticing the crisp morning air. His mind was set on Freddie, and he knew he needed to resist slamming his fist into Freddie’s face. That wouldn’t resolve anything, but he was forced to admit it would make him feel better.

  He rode through town where people covered the sidewalks, chatted in small groups, or sat bumper-to-bumper in their cars. It was so… normal. Businesses were open, and all the restaurants and cafes were doing brisk business. Xavier cheated and used some of the bike lanes to get where he was going. He also went down a couple of side streets, using them as shortcuts, until he reached the sheriff’s building near the town center. He parked right in front, and even as he got off his bike, he suddenly heard Josh’s voice echoing in his head.

  You’ll get yourself killed, you idiot, if you don’t wear a damn helmet.

  Xavier snorted and shook his head, running his hands through his hair. Yeah, he’d forgotten again. Oh, well. Granted, while he didn’t enjoy having a voice inside his head other than his own, he’d rather have Josh’s, considering the alternative.

  Straightening his clothes, Xavier walked into the sheriff’s office. It was a modest setup. There was a counter in front to block off entrance to the back area, a waiting area with chairs set along one side of the counter near the front door. Behind there were several desks, one for the sheriff and the other for his deputies. There was a door that led to the holding cells in the rear. That was where Freddie would be.

  At the moment no one manned the counter, but that didn’t surprise Xavier. He figured Jack wouldn’t want an audience, considering this delicate situation. Despite the welcome and friendliness of the town, there were still low grumbles concerning the “short” distance between Haven and the clinic. A situation such as this only made those grumblings louder. No one wanted to feel scared in their own town. He was sure word had already spread about the incident—considering the audience they’d had last night—but since a mob wasn’t harassing Jack and the mayor—Jack’s brother, Jager—wasn’t here, he figured Jack had it under control. Xavier knew there would be some questions to answer in the next few days, for himself and for Josh.

  The sheriff sat at his desk, looking deceptively at ease as he waved to Xavier. He moved behind the counter, just in time to notice Rita, sitting in a visitor’s chair in front of Jack’s desk. Even before Jack could stand and speak, Rita flew out of the chair, eyes blazing, skin rippling, and confronted him.

  “What kind of clinic are you running? How could you do this to him? Don’t you know he’s wounded? He doesn’t know what he’s doing!”

  Xavier was considerably taller than Rita, but that didn’t matter to her. She glared up at him, teeth bared. He merely raised an eyebrow, his face showing nothing. He was mildly worried, as she was a mother bear protecting her cub, but he was trained in combat. She wasn’t.

  “This was for his safety as well as ours. Your son is obviously more damaged than the Agency suspected. He rampaged through Haven, Rita. That makes him a threat.”

  “He’s not a threat.” Rita’s eyes were wet, but no tears fell. “He’s hurt. Those monsters did that to him. You’re supposed to help him.”

  “We will,” Xavier said, gentler than he thought he was capable of being. The pain in her eyes was nearly too much to bear. There was also fear and the urge to protect. He didn’t expect anything less.

  “As I told you, Rita,” Jack said, just as calm, his eyes flat and cool. “He could have harmed a lot of people in Haven if we hadn’t stopped him. As Xavier said, it’s for his safety as well as others that we put him in a cell.”

  Xavier nodded. “We’ll find out what’s wrong with him, Rita. I promise. But we also need to see to our own safety. Understand?”

  Her face tightened, and she nodded, swallowing hard, and took a deep, shaky breath. “I understand.”

  “Good. I’m going to go back and talk to him for a minute, okay? Please stay here with the sheriff.”

  She nodded again and collapsed into a chair. She sat there, stiff and pale. Helpless. Xavier exchanged a look with Jack before walking into the back and to the cells. He shut the door behind him and noticed all the cells were empty except for the last one, where Freddie sat. Xavier grabbed a chair from one of the processing tables and dragged it over to the front of the cell. He straddled it, resting his forearms on the back. Freddie sat on the bench, in borrowed clothes, and a blanket over his legs. He was staring down at his hands when he heard Xavier. He glanced at him once, then looked back down at his hands.

  Xavier made sure his voice was calm before he spoke. “Want to explain what happened yesterday?”

  Freddie continued to stare hard at his hands, his mouth pulled into a thin line. “Thought it would be that ginger to come talk to me.”

  Xavier’s insides flashed hot. His wolf growled dangerously, but he showed no signs outwardly. The contempt in the shifter’s voice was clear.

  “Josh is trying to help you, Freddie. We all are.”

  “He doesn’t get it. No one does!” Freddie’s facial muscles rippled, and the air shimmered lightly around him.

  Xavier growled, and his inner wolf’s hackles rose. “Don’t even think about it. You’ve caused enough damage. You wanna get tranq’d again?”

  Freddie visibly struggled to calm himself. He twisted the blankets in his hands, but the air settled and his face smoothed.

  “Is… is Bruno okay?”

  Well, that showed some progress, if Freddie wanted to know about Bruno.

  “He’ll live.”

  Freddie blew out a breath. Xavier thought it was one of relief.

  “Talk to me, Freddie.”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  Xavier raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

  Freddie glared at him. “You’re just the same as that human ginger, as everyone here. You want to help us, sure, but you don’t know the first thing about what we’ve been through. The shifters and humans in this town were never taken by those butchers, never tortured and… and experimented on.”

  Freddie’s voice broke, and he hunched his shoulders, gripping the blanket tighter.

  Xavier once again fought against his urge to defend Josh. He really wished Freddie would stop calling his mate “ginger” in that ugly tone. He found Josh’s looks charming.

  “You’re wrong, Freddie.” His voice was hard, but not cold. “There are many here who know what you’ve been through. Many have been through worse.”

  “Like who?”

  “Me.”

  Freddie blinked rapidly at him, surprise crossing his face. “What? You?”

  Xavier nodded. “They dug into my brain and made me a killing machine. My wolf and I no longer understood each other, and I became nothing but a murderous beast.”

  His wolf whined as he remembered, as he struggled not to relive it. It was hard, so very hard to talk about that time in his life. But he would have to learn to endure it. He doubted this would be the only time he would have to speak about it. There would be many more patients, just like Freddie, who thought they were alone and that no one understood. He would always need to show them that there were others who did.

  “I became the leader’s pet. I killed other shifters. Tore them to pieces.”

  Freddie gaped, shuddering.

  “So, tell me,” Xavier said, his voice edgy. “What did they do to you? What tri
ggered you yesterday?”

  Freddie swallowed several times before managing to speak. “They… they would induce a shift. Then they’d take some of my blood, run some tests. Then they”—he touched his left leg—“They took my foot and used silver on it to see if the dead tissue would react. They just kept doing that, inducing silver into my blood, taking the silver out, drawing blood. Again and again. But then they started to leave the silver in, and my bear… he just….”

  Freddie rubbed his chest, a low painful moan coming from him, his skin rippled again.

  Xavier nodded. Silver was anathema to shifters. Shifters, as he’d been told, were of two spirits: their human side and their primal side. When both sides were in harmony, the shifter lived peacefully, in tune with nature and civilization. But when there was disharmony, oftentimes the animal half would go a little crazy. If the shifting occurred under emotional duress, the animal might not know friend from foe, and go into attack mode. As he’d told Freddie, his own wolf was disconnected from him, and only with Josh’s help did he and his wolf communicate again. Even now, his wolf was cautiously sympathetic to Freddie’s plight, but also ready to shift if Freddie lost control again.

  “Your bear went a little crazy,” Xavier said as gently as he could.

  Freddie nodded. “I started to remember more yesterday, and I… relived it a little.” Freddie glanced at him. “I haven’t shifted in a while, and I guess I just lost control.”

  “Yeah, I guess you did. But you have to understand something, Freddie. You could have killed someone. You could have easily killed Bruno.” His voice lowered, became wintry cold. “You tried to kill Josh.”

  “So why didn’t you all just leave me the hell alone?” Freddie’s voice began to rise.

  Xavier slowly rose to his feet and moved the chair away. He stepped toward the cell bars, the air shimmering around him. Despite being a bear shifter against a wolf, Freddie hunched and leaned away from him. Xavier was the one in control, and he made sure Freddie knew it.