The Alpha's Fight: Huntsville Pack Book 3 (2 page)

“Yes, but don’t expect to shift any time soon. Someone who's sustained your level of injury tends to be human bound while they heal.”

“So what do I do? I don’t know who I am. You don’t know who I am, and I might be in trouble.” She clenched her hands into fists as she spoke.

“For now, just focus on recovering. You’re lucky to be alive. You cut an artery in your leg and you had a pretty big goose egg on your head. Even shifters can die if they lose a lot of blood too fast.” He stood and stretched, his back cracking as he did so. “Sorry. I was up all night."

"Because of me?" Jane looked at her leg, trying to recall the injury, but, other than a faint tenderness that she had to really concentrate on to feel, there was no sign she'd ever been close to dying.

"Well, you and a couple other people. Healing is never a nine-to-five job. " Covering a yawn, he said, "Anyway, take it easy. Sleep if you’re tired. Eat and build up your strength. Try not to worry about anything else right now. Your memory will return faster if you stay relaxed. I'll check on you in a day or two. If you need me before then, let one of the staff know.”

“Okay. That sounds simple enough, I guess.” She stood as well and followed him as he headed for the door. “Do you know where I can find breakfast? I’m hungry.”

“Sure. I’ll show you to the cafeteria. It’s on my way out.” He motioned for her to come with him. “It’s down this way. Nothing fancy, I’m afraid, but it will fill you up and give you the calories you need to heal.”

Jane took in her surroundings as they walked. The long hallways had blue carpeting and beige walls with doors at regular intervals. Most were closed, but when she peeked inside the open ones, she saw rooms set up similar to hers, only with lots of personal belongings. “What is this place?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. I forgot you probably don’t know. Welcome to Crescent Pines, the retirement community for shifters.”

She stopped short. “I’m in a nursing home? What? Why? I'm not old enough to be here.”

“It's a retirement community." He leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Don't call it a nursing home unless you want a fight. It was either this place or the jail. The sheriff thought you would be more comfortable here."

"There are no hospitals." She frowned, trying to understand why she knew that.

He smiled at her. "See? Your memory is already making progress. You're right. We don't use hospitals like humans. Normally you would go home and your pack healer would make a house call, but—"

"No one knew who I was or where I lived."

"Right, and because you were so upset about shifters and so out-of-control, the sheriff felt this was the best place for you. We can’t have you running around in the human world talking crazy, or worse, shifting where they can see you.” He put his hand on her elbow and nudged her forward. “Now, come. The cafeteria is right around the corner and you’ve got five minutes before breakfast is over.”

The whole way to the cafeteria, all Jane could think was
'I'm a werewolf in a nursing home.'
Bizarre didn't even begin to cover it. She sure hoped her memory came back with a full explanation of what the hell was going on.

J
ane piled her tray high with toast, eggs, oatmeal, cereal, an apple, a banana, two yogurts and a large coffee. She didn't know if she liked cream or sugar, so she threw both onto her tray. Her stomach was almost screaming with hunger, making sounds that she’d never heard before.

Or if I have, I don’t remember,
she thought as she surveyed the tables, looking for a place to sit. The old folks were staring at her and muttering amongst themselves. Jane pasted a smile on her face and pretended it wasn’t awkward to be the youngest person in the room by at least eighty years. Even the cafeteria staff were well past middle age.

But she was dressed like a nurse. How would they know she wasn’t one of the staff anyway? Except from their pointed looks, she had the feeling they knew exactly why she was there.

As she navigated the round tables that filled the cafeteria, she caught snippets of whispers and murmurs.

“Such a shame.”

"Poor thing."

“So awkward.”

“She doesn’t belong here.”

Jane felt a rumble in her chest and startled as she realized it was a growl.

Someone made a tsk-tsk sound.

“What kind of manners is that?” someone asked.

Meeting people’s gazes, one by one, Jane turned a slow circle. The room fell silent and everyone stopped eating. Clearing her throat she said, “Hi. I’m Jane and maybe you folks have lost your hearing, but I haven’t. Thanks for the warm welcome.” With that, she stomped in the direction of the only empty table in the room.

“You can sit with me,” said a warm voice to her right.

Jane glanced over to see an elderly woman with snow white hair and bright brown eyes peering at her through thick glasses. She gave Jane a friendly smile. “We’re not all assholes.”

Several people gasped and a few tittered.

“What language,” scolded an elderly man.

“I fed my kids soap and Tabasco if they talked like that,” sniffed a prim woman with a ramrod straight spine and a neat, silver bun.

The woman who had offered her a seat rolled her eyes. “Don’t let them fool you,” she said with a soft guffaw. “Their tails aren't any cleaner than mine. I’ve heard many say worse and for less important reasons.” She stared down the people around her until they looked away.

Jane slid into a seat, wishing she could sink into the floor. All the attention made her anxious. She wasn't prepared to handle such a tough crowd. “Thanks for the seat,” she murmured.

The woman held out her hand. “I’m Tillie.”

“Jane,” she said, shaking Tillie’s hand.

“I’ve been in here for almost a decade.” She nodded to the people around her. “I might be old, but I was never small-minded, and being in here with all these mental midgets tires a body out.”

“To be fair, they're right. I don’t really belong here,” Jane said. “I’m not old enough for a nursing home.”

“But you needed a safe place to stay, and without a pack to claim you, Crescent Pines is it.” Tillie took a sip of her water. “The sheriff did you a favor, believe it or not. The only other place would be the jail in Huntsville, and the food there is even worse.”

"How do you know what the food in jail tastes like?" Jane gave Tillie a curious look, startled to realize that, no matter how grandmotherly the woman appeared, she didn't really know her at all.

Tillie laughed. "I'm whiter than an angel's wings, but there's always someone who just has to get in trouble. You live long enough, and you'll see a spot or two of trouble no matter how good you are."

Frowning, Jane pushed her food around her plate. She’d been so hungry just minutes before, but now her stomach was making dire threats about how it would respond if she ate even one bite. It seemed to her a 'spot of trouble' had found her, she just didn't know what kind. The uncertainty left her queasy.

With a sigh, she decided to see exactly how much Tillie knew. If she couldn't eat, she could at least work on her memory. “Did you see the sheriff when he brought me in?” she asked. “Did he say anything?”

“We all saw him, dear. The entrance to this place is right over there.” Tillie pointed to the cafeteria's entrance and when Jane looked, she saw the doors leading to the rest of the world. They stood opposite from the cafeteria, but she'd missed them on her way in, which she blamed on hunger. The scent of food had filled her nose to the point where she couldn't even think and her stomach had yowled like an angry cat.

She stared at the doors and the bright sunlight just beyond them, a different kind of hunger filling her.

I could leave
.

But where would I go?

“Wednesday is wine night and we were all in here getting a little tipsy when the sheriff came in dragging you after him.” Tillie met Jane’s eyes, her gaze steady. “You were making all sorts of noise and fighting him like you thought he was going to kill you.”

Heat crept up Jane’s cheeks and she slouched down lower in her seat.

Tillie patted her arm. “Don’t feel bad. From what I've heard, you’d been through a lot that night. I would've done the same in your situation.”

“How do you know what happened to me?”

“I work at the nurse’s station and help them with their files. We don’t do electronic records like humans because we don’t want to be hacked. I saw a bit of your paperwork.”

Jane leaned in close to Tillie, catching a nose full of the older woman's perfume, which she recognized as a gardenia based scent. It made her want to sneeze. “What did it say?”

“You don’t know?”

Jane shook her head. “I don’t know anything. I-I can’t remember who I am.” Tears sprang to her eyes and she sniffed them back.

“Oh, you poor dear.” Tillie patted Jane’s hand again, her palm warm and soft. “You had a pretty bad head injury and a wound on your thigh. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“That’s what the healer told me today. Was there anything else? Any other details?”  Jane couldn’t keep a pleading note out of her voice.

“I’m sorry, but if there was more, I didn’t see it.” Tillie looked at her with pity in her eyes.

Jane dipped her head down, staring at the weave of the table cloth and rubbing her forehead with one hand. She didn’t want pity, she wanted her memory back.

“You know, there was a man in my pack once who got clobbered by a tree. They were logging out in the forest, wanting to build a log cabin and boom, the tree clocked him right here.” Tillie made a fist and tapped it against her head. “He clean forgot everything. His wolf left him for months, but he did return and so did his memories. We shifters are a tough lot. We can heal from almost anything. Just give it some time.”

Jane nodded, somewhat reassured by Tillie’s words. If one person had recovered, there had to be hope for her, too. “Thanks.”

“Until then, enjoy all that Crescent Pines has to offer.” Tillie gestured to Jane’s plate. “With as much blood as you’ve lost, you can speed up your healing by eating and drinking, so eat up, child. You need that food, even if it is industrial mass produced crap.”

Jane took a tentative bite of oatmeal. Her stomach stopped roiling the second the food hit and a primal hunger took over. Before she knew it, she was shoveling food in her mouth by the spoonful, barely pausing long enough to swallow.

“That’s better,” Tillie said, her voice bright. “It's not so bad here. We have a pool. There are dances every Saturday. We play cards almost every night. Art therapy is on Monday. Exercise classes are on Tuesday and Thursday. You’re probably too young for them, but you should come try it out. It’s good to keep busy when you’re waiting for something as important as your memory to come back.”

“You think so?” Jane managed to wait long enough between bites to speak.

Tillie gave a decisive nod. “If you spend all your time pining after what you’ve lost, it’ll take its own sweet time coming back, if it returns at all. This goes for men as well as memory.”

Jane laughed and then smiled. The laugh had felt good. “I think you’re good for me, Tillie.”

“I’m usually good for everyone.” Tillie smiled. “My husband used to call me vitamin T.”

Jane looked at their table, empty save for the two of them. “Where is your husband?”

Tillie pointed to the ceiling. “Wherever good wolves go when their time comes. Alan passed years ago and I’ve been here ever since.”

“What about your family? Any kids?”

“Oh, they visit and keep an eye on me, but they're too young to be responsible for me. Besides, my alpha likes me out of the way. I can’t cause trouble for him then.” Tillie’s voice turned bitter.

“Trouble?” Jane frowned at the elderly woman, trying to picture what trouble she could cause. Tillie was hardly a formidable figure with her short stature, fluffy curves and walker. What would an alpha have to fear from her?

She blinked as she realized she understood what an alpha was. It was a small piece, but enough of her memory to give her true hope of recovery.
I won’t always be lost.

“Alan was the alpha two generations ago and I was his mate,” Tillie said. “He stepped down once he hit a hundred. We both wanted a break. Carrying the burdens of a pack wears a soul out and it’s not very good for the body either. The alpha after Alan was a good man, but he died without a successor, so the pack fought it out and the alpha left standing was,” she paused, seeming to struggle with what to say. Finally, she settled on a mild, “Not my cup of tea.”

“So you didn’t like him and he made you live here? That seems harsh,” Jane said.

Tillie sniffed. “Well, I may have been somewhat vocal of my opposition to some of his policies.”

“Oh, I see.”

“And because I was once the Alpha’s mate, people still listened to me, so I was exiled here,” she waved her spoon at the room, “in this fine establishment where I'll die alone, outside my pack lands.”

“That’s awful,” Jane said. At the same time, she was pleased that she understood the pack dynamics Tillie had described. “What did the new alpha do that was so bad?”

“He's taking too much money for himself, for one. And ruling with brute force instead of good judgment.” Tillie ate some of her ice cream and sighed. “If the alpha doesn’t work for the good of the pack, then the pack is no good. That’s what my mother told me when I was a little girl and she learned it from her mother and so on. The truth doesn’t die.”

“What does the rest of the pack think?”

The old woman shrugged. “Some agree with me, but most are just trying to survive. He’s made them promises they think he’ll keep, so they go along with him.”

“Well, I can see why you'd cause trouble,” Jane said

“He would’ve made me a stray except I was too old for that. So this pretty little prison is where he sticks me.” Tillie paused and gave a sly smile. “But the trick’s on him. I’m not going to leave my pack at his mercy. My husband and I worked too hard, gave up too much to make the pack strong.”

“What are you going to do?”

Tillie shook her head. “I shouldn’t say. But my grandson will be here tomorrow and he’s helping me. You two should meet.”