River Wolf (6 page)

“Son of a bitch.” Starting forward, she paused. The floors were wood and her shoes were wet. Toeing them off, she padded barefoot into the sitting room. No phone seemed readily visible. Great, the owner didn’t have a landline. The furniture was nice, masculine, with a few feminine touches in the decorative pillows and the throw blanket.

Rubbing her palms against her damp face, she pushed back tears.
Kitchen
. Most landlines were in kitchens. Pivoting, she strode through the house and down the hall. A faint scent of coffee lingered in the air and she followed like a dog on the hunt.

“Hallelujah!” The kitchen was a big, open room and was probably bright when sun filled the wide windows. Making a beeline for the phone hanging on the wall, she grabbed it and then froze with her fingers hovering over the keypad.
Luc hadn’t wanted to go to a hospital, he’d wanted to get here
. “Well, too bad. No one is here, so the hospital it is.” Nine-one-one was an easy number to dial and it worked in pretty much any locale. So why couldn’t she press the damn buttons?

“What am I doing here?” she asked aloud.

“That’s a very good question,” a masculine voice stated calmly, scaring the crap out of her. She whirled, then flung the phone before she could even think the action through. The man in question caught the phone, and stared at her with deep, dark eyes. The scars on his face added to his dangerous demeanor.

Colby froze. Power radiated off the man approaching her slowly. Instead of retreating, which seemed like a damn good idea, she remained rooted to the spot. It was like she couldn’t look away from him. In front of her, he studied her with enigmatic eyes. When he replaced the phone handle onto its cradle, she jumped at the clicking noise.

“I’ll only ask you nicely once. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Damn good questions. What was her name again?

B
rett had been
on a call when the car pulled into his drive. His pack knew to let themselves in, and he didn’t have time for strangers so he’d ignored the knock and the doorbell ring. The unfamiliar feminine call of ‘hello’ alerted him to the stranger entering his house. Surprise followed by fury rushed through him. Then she called again, but he missed the rest of her sentence thanks to three people talking at once on the conference call. Ending it, he informed his executives he’d call them back.

Her “Hallelujah!” beckoned him. Silent, he stalked through the house to the kitchen and discovered the young woman dripping water on the tile floor as she lifted the handset from the cradle. Instead of dialing, however, she stared at the phone with a troubled expression.

Everything about her assaulted him—her fresh raindrops on blades of green grass aroma occluded by the scent of gasoline, male wolf, and injury. The male he identified almost immediately, despite the troubling mixture.
Luc.

“What the hell am I doing here?” she asked aloud. The last word came out more
he-yah
than
here
, but he understood.

“That’s a very good question.” No artifice disguised her shock. She flung the phone at him and he caught it. The force of the throw impressed him, as the phone slapped against the palm of his hand. Her pulse beat a frenetic pace and her eyes widened as she locked gazes with him.

Close enough to touch her, he stilled. If she were Luc’s ride, she might have a reason for being present—then again where the hell was Luc? Zeroing in on the flare of her dilating pupils, his wolf surged beneath his skin. The rush of his animal powered through him. Inhaling a lungful of her scent, he tested what he’d already learned about her and couldn’t identify what agitated the fuck out of his wolf.

Not discounting his wolf’s intuition, he narrowed his focus. Strangers were all suspect until proven otherwise. “I’ll only ask you nicely once. Who are you and what are you doing here?” Stephen warned him when she and Luc stopped at the service station, but he’d been under the impression Luc was awake.

“I…” She choked on the word, paling beneath her natural skin tone. No tan would give her the look of brushed amaretto though the deep black of her hair and the natural slant of her eyes suggested an Asian origin. All fascination with her appearance aside, she still hadn’t answered.

Raising his eyebrows, he held her gaze. More impressive, she didn’t look away. However, her fascination didn’t provide him with a response any quicker.

“I’m—I brought Luc.” The stutter underscored her honesty. Point to her.

“Where is he then?”

The second question managed what the first failed. She shook off her stupor. With a blink, she jerked her gaze from his. “He’s in the car and he’s unconscious. I was calling for an ambulance.” The shaken tone vanished to be replaced by one far more capable. “He needs assistance. This whole fool’s errand has endangered him.” Reclaiming the phone, she muttered. “Damn man got me into this mess…”

“Put the phone down.” Her irritation satisfied him. No one else he knew could engender equal parts of affection and irritation as Luc did. “We’ll help him here.”

“Did you not hear me? He’s unconscious.” Worry tinged the words.

After narrowing the distance between them, he took the phone from her and replaced it in the cradle. “I heard you. I’ll take care of him. You’re damp, and you seem a bit cold. Come, we’ll get him inside then you can warm up with a fire.”

Her scent offered more confusion—hope flared beneath layers of disbelief and annoyance. “He needs a
doctor.
”

Enough
. “
We
have what we need.” His wolf roused to the challenge in her eyes when her gaze clashed with his, but neither he nor his wolf backed down. Impressively, neither did the woman. Who the hell was she?

“Look, I’m not a doctor. I didn’t even finish my certification for registered nurse, but I’ve worked in enough hospitals. He put himself through hell in the car to get here—stupid man—and he needs real medical assistance.” Fear spiked through her scent. Whether it was fear for Luc or fear of him, Brett didn’t have time to parse. One thing was certain—she had no idea about wolves.

“Miss…” Goddammit, he didn’t know her name.

“Colby. Colby Jensen. We need to call…”

“Colby,” he tested the name on his tongue, and he liked the way it formed. Locking gazes, he relied on his strength as an Alpha. Her pupils dilated then contracted to pin points. “We will take care of him. Go sit down. I’ll get Luc from the car.”

Cupping her elbow, he ignored the bite of static electricity that jumped from her skin to his. The woman needed to be managed and, when Luc was safe, he needed a good thump in the head. What the hell was he thinking bringing a human into the middle of the mess?

The softness of her skin teased his wolf, and the animal within him prowled forward. It wanted a bite, to test and taste. She needed to go. His pack had experienced enough trouble. They didn’t need a human…

“Colby
,” he repeated her name more for himself than for her. She was a person—a living, vibrant woman with a life, and a history and a purpose. “We can argue about care and treatment later, but we need to get him from the car.” He needed to get a grip. They didn’t eliminate potential threats before they actually became threats. The weather had the potential to suck; it didn’t mean it did.

“Okay,” she exhaled. “Good point.” Tugging her arm away, she strode toward the door and Brett followed, palming his cell phone along the way. He fired off a text to Owen alerting he and Gillian to Luc’s arrival in Hudson River. The mated pair were due to return the following evening, and unless Luc was critical…

Owen answered almost immediately.
Critical?

He replied,
Unknown. Standby
.

Arriving at the door a step ahead of Colby, he opened it for her. The skies continued to pour a dreary rain. “Stay on the porch,” he ordered. No sense in both of them getting soaked.

“You might need me. He’s got heavy casts on and we don’t want the plaster to get wet.” Then without waiting for his response, she strode out into the rain. Her white cotton shirt, already moulded to her like a second skin, turned virtually transparent. The waterfall of black hair slicked to her back and he hurried after her. Instead of opening the passenger side door, however, she opened the backdoor and withdrew an umbrella. Popping it open, she held it over their heads and met his gaze. “Are you sure you want to take him out here? We might be better off transporting him to a hospital or at least calling the ambulance before we take him out.”

“I’m sure.” He nudged her to the side so he could open the passenger door. Luc’s eyes fluttered open, the yellow-gold of his wolf glaring at him. A snarl issued from his throat as his gaze darted once to Colby then to Brett again. Despite his injuries he surged forward and the skin on his cheeks rippled. “No.” No pretense and no denying the order in his voice, Brett gripped Luc’s jaw. His wolf would obey, pack mate or not. His wolf knew him, and the beast snarled but Brett didn’t retreat. “I’m going to take you into the house and you’re going to keep it together, got it?”

“Got it.” The words were ground out between his teeth.

“Damn, you have the bedside manner of an ogre.” Colby’s disgust echoed behind.

“Hush,” Brett said. He had no time to soften his manner. Luc’s wolf was rising and it wanted out. The injuries were severe and he should have long since shifted, but in the human hospital he couldn’t. A lot of
he should haves
rolled through Brett’s mind and he ignored them all. Should have, would have, could have—what mattered was what he’d chosen. Freeing the seatbelt, he slid an arm beneath Luc’s injured legs and then around his back.

Though his friend was a big man, Brett matched him in height and had more in bulk around his shoulders. He could carry him for miles if necessary. As gentle as he could, he lifted him. Colby winced, but the arm holding the umbrella over them remained steady. Luc let out a low groan.

“I have you,” he told him. Agony contorted Luc’s features, but Brett kept his gait steady. “Shut the door.” Colby nodded and pushed it to then kept pace with him to the porch. She swept aside the umbrella and shook it off. Not waiting for her, he carried his friend into the house and then up the stairs. “You’ve put on weight,” he told Luc. If his friend was even a little aware of him, he’d appreciate the lie of the joke. If anything, Luc had lost a few pounds.

In the guest room, he set him down slowly. Luc released another pained exhale. The casts were the first things that had to go. “Give me a minute,” he told the wolf watching him from within Luc’s eyes. “We’ll get the casts off.”

“That’s a bad idea. He’s got some severe breaks.” Colby challenged him as she came into the room. Water dripped from the ends of her dark hair.

“I understand,” he told her. His phone rang and Gillian’s number flashed on the screen. Perfect. Answering it, he said, “Gillian, I have Colby Jensen here. She brought Luc from a hospital in Maine. I’m going to pass her over so she can fill you in on his condition.”
Read between the lines, little wolf.

“You need to assess him, and she doesn’t know he’s a wolf.”

Damn, she is good
. “Yes, please.” The addition of the last word earned him a pause from Gillian.

“I’ll take care of her. Should we head back today?” They’d left only a few hours before and couldn’t have had very long at Niagara.

“I’ll let you know.” He glanced at Colby as he extended the phone to her. “Dr. Chase is our personal physician. Can you fill her in on everything.” It wasn’t a request.

“Of course.” Despite her unease with him, she responded with professionalism. Her fingers brushed his as she took the phone and another static crackle raced over him. His wolf lunged forward and Luc’s low, almost sub vocal growl gained intensity. “Don’t take the casts off.” The order she gave glanced off him and he could hear Gillian’s laughter as Colby carried his phone from the room and the quiet, steady murmur as she recited Luc’s condition.

“Whatever you do,” Luc growled in a low voice. “Don’t let her leave.”

“You need to rest. You’re in way worse condition than you let on.” His nose told him infection existed somewhere in Luc’s blood. The mixture of sweat and musk didn’t hide the sour scent of sickness. “And you need to shift.”

“She can’t see the wolf yet. She’s not ready.” Despite the strain, he reached out to grasp Brett’s arm. “Keep her here.”

Yes.
He would kidnap the human. Gripping Luc’s hand he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Lie still.” Reinforcing his will into the sentence, he set Luc’s hand down then went to the first cast on his arm. Splitting it as carefully as he could, he removed it. These weren’t the first casts he’d ever seen. “You know,” he spoke, keeping his voice low. His ears told him Colby had moved to the stairwell. Whatever Gillian did, she kept her busy. “The first time I had to break a cast was your fault, too.”

“I didn’t tell you to jump.” Luc grunted. The arm cast broke into two easy pieces. The skin beneath was moist and shriveled. He hadn’t located the source of infection yet.

“No? Then I think we’re remembering the incident very differently. You dared me to climb the cliff.” Moving efficiently, he kept track of Colby’s whereabouts The first leg cast went from the middle of Luc’s thigh to his ankle. Had he broken a femur?

“Climb. Not jump.” The last syllable rode an angry exhale. “Then
I
jumped.”

“Yeah, well, what you can do I can do better.” They’d been about fourteen at the time and already competing in everything.

“Ha.” Luc choked on a laugh. “I didn’t break any bones.”

Snorting softly, Brett cracked the cast with precision. “You cracked your skull. Then again, you always have been soft in the head.” A grin tugged at his lips, and Luc chuckled. The cast gave way on his leg and stench of infection filled the air.

“Fuck.” Luc smelled it, too.

“A healer will be here soon.” Setting aside the plaster, he hit the speaker phone button on the landline, then hit the autodial for his mother. She answered on the second ring.

“Hello, my darling son. No, I will not go to the Wilkersons for you. That woman aggravates me.” Her greeting and familiar voice eased the lines of stress on Luc’s face.

“Mom, I need you at the house. Luc is here, and he’s got an infection in his leg. Gillian’s at Niagara Falls. If we can let her and Owen have the rest of their downtime, it would be preferable. Luc hitched a ride with a stranger, too.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. How much of a stranger?” Efficiency was his mother’s middle name. Her father had been pack healer for decades. While she always said the healing gift skipped her, she’d probably forgotten more than Brett would ever know.

“Total.”

“Okay.” She hung up and didn’t waste any more time. If his father were home, he’d likely come as well. Charles Dalton was both the son and father of an Alpha, but he made his living as a chef and enjoyed it. Neither of his parents had been happy with the changes over the last year, but then they didn’t have the whole pack’s welfare riding on them either.

Luc shuddered, and his skin rippled. Gripping his shoulder, Brett focused his will on him. “Not yet. No shifting. I need to get the other cast off and I need to see where the infection is. Can you hold out?”

Golden eyes blazing, Luc’s humanity bled away with every harsh breath. His wolf scowled a challenge. “Stop touching me.”

As dominant as Luc was, Brett was Alpha and he didn’t want or need the fight at the moment. “Save the crap for when you’re healthy enough for me to beat the shit out of you.” Unflinching, he held Luc’s glare while he cracked the plaster. The conversation outside the room drifted toward them. Colby seemed intent on returning.

“Behave, Luc.” He kept his tone as civil as possible. “Your girl is out there and I don’t intend for her to see you shift. Remember Colby.” The order had the desired effect, Luc tipped his head backward and blew out a breath.

“Hurry the fuck up then. I don’t—think I can hold him back much longer.” Wolves needed to shift when they were gravely injured. Luc had spent all the time in the hospital holding off his wolf when shifting would have begun his healing process. Splitting the cast, Brett worked the plaster free while at the same time refusing to do further injury.