Where There is Hope [Taos Wolven Mates 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (10 page)

It didn’t take much to imagine what they would be doing right now if they were on his horse. She bit her lip, her cheeks burning as she thought of how his experienced fingers had managed to wring a screaming orgasm from her earlier.

How would he feel when he finally slid his cock inside her? Was he as big as his friend or bigger? Was he not quite as wide or was he wider? The questions swirled around inside her head every time they made contact.

Her right breast bumped against his forearm every time they hit a bump in the two-track trail they used to make their way across the land to the place they called the alpha’s.

Something in the distance caught her eye, and she peered off into the distance, her hand shielding her face from the late-afternoon sun.

A small wooden house set a distance from a barn with a fenced-in area grew closer as they moved. It was difficult to see, since the sun was almost at eye level in the sky. As they grew closer, they could see a few people moving out from the house to stare at them as they approached. One looked like a man holding a rifle pointed in their direction.

“William is back,” Joran muttered almost under his breath. “What the hell is he doing here?”

They pulled the wagons to a stop next to the barn and Braxton got down.

“You might as well get right back up on your wagon and get the hell out of here, wolf.” The man Joran called William pointed the gun straight at Braxton’s chest. “I’ll shoot your sorry ass. Don’t think I won’t.”

Hope gasped. She lifted her hands to cover her mouth. The last thing she wanted was to set the man off and have him shoot Braxton because she’d distracted him.

“And don’t have the mistaken impression that I won’t survive it, Will.” Braxton walked up to the man and pushed the barrel just in time for the shot to go over his head.

“Why don’t you let me shoot you and prove it?”

“Because it hurts, you ass.” Braxton practically growled. “What is it that you have against us, exactly? We saved your life. This is a wonderful way to say thank you.”

“You may have saved my life, but you made me one of you to do it.” William spat the words. “I don’t want to be one of you, damn it!”

“How many times do we have to tell you that you aren’t one of us? We couldn’t make you one of us without you having a mate, it would drive you mad, you ungrateful shit.”

“Then explain how you brought me back from the brink of death. How did you heal a gut wound with no scar in less than a day?” William kept his rifle pressed against his shoulder and leveled at Braxton’s chest.

“We didn’t save your life. Carella, our ship saved your life. For some reason, she transported you aboard and healed you. I have no idea why. Maybe she thought you were worth saving. God knows, had it been left up to me, you would have died and rotted right where that idiot shot you.”

“Now, now, gentlemen,” Amelie interjected. “There are ladies present and you are using such language.” She clucked her tongue. “What would your mothers say to your using such language in the presence of the ladies?”

Amelie gave them all a look that should have had them backing down. Instead, Braxton grinned.

“I haven’t said anything my mother wouldn’t have said, Amelie. You forget. She is a warrior herself. In fact”—Braxton paused to make a face—“she would have my posterior in a sling for even letting this…
man
get a drop on me like this.”

“Just because your mother uses common language where you are from is no excuse for you to do the same in front of ladies here.” Amelie thinned her lips, crossing her arms in front of her. “We are ladies.” She stomped her foot. “I insist that you cease using such vulgar language in our presence.”

“You go, girl.” Hope pumped her fist in the air. “Don’t let these jerks get away with the crap they’re trying to pull.”

Amelie turned to face Hope, a crease between her eyes. “You speak the English, but I find your speech difficult to understand.” She waved her hand in the air when Hope would have said something. “It is of no matter. You are not from here. It is excused.” She turned to the men. “You men, however, are not excused. Please see that the women here are packed and ready to go posthaste. There is danger, or have you forgotten with your posturing?”

That brought the men up short. It seemed they had forgotten their mission at the appearance of William and his gun.

“Truce, Will?” Braxton asked, holding his hand out to the man who still held the gun pointed at his chest.

With a sigh, William lowered the gun. “Truce. But I still don’t believe you.”

“Listen, Will, if you were one of us you would have changed by now, whether you willed it or not,” Joran said as he moved up to make himself a target as well.

Hope rolled her eyes. Were men crazy or just stupid? Why were they constantly putting themselves in danger and giving the women with them heart attacks?

Well, alpha men did that it seemed. She didn’t know from any other experience than this one, but she did notice that Braxton and Joran made a habit of putting themselves in danger quite often. Just the fact that they took it upon themselves to get the women in the surrounding area to safety told her that they had more guts than brains.

“Well, hell, you two. What was I supposed to think? I was gut shot. I should have died.” He paled a bit before he admitted, “I should have suffered a lot then died. What was I supposed to think when I passed out only to wake up in a bed in a hotel in Dodge with a floozy in my bed?” He looked at Amelie, who gasped, then lowered his voice. “You know I never had myself a painted lady. I don’t believe in it.” He looked down at his hand. “It’s this or nothing for me until I find the woman I plan to marry. You know that.”

“I am going inside to get the ladies, gentlemen,” Amelie said as she grabbed Fleur with one hand and Hope with the other and proceeded to drag them away. “When you have stopped your references about each other in the common English you are welcome to join us.”

“Really. They should not speak so in front of the ladies,” Amelie complained as they headed for the small wooden structure. “Usually the
monsieurs
are not so vulgar.” She shook her head with a sigh. “However, the William always seems to bring out the worst in them.”

Amelie stopped just outside the open front door, dropped their arms and patted her hair before she knocked. “
Bonsoir
, my friends! ’Tis Amelie and Fleur Babineau. May we come in?”

“Yes, please,” a woman called from the dark interior. “I could use your help. William wanted us to pack. He says we must leave this place.”

A pretty young woman with long, dark hair stepped from another room that Hope assumed was the bedroom. The main room of the small home held a stove, a table and four chairs. A cot set in the corner held a thin rolled mattress, three bedrolls, and a large carpeted bag.

The two tiny windows devoid of curtains stood open, allowing what little breeze there was to pass through the small room.

“He said there are monsters here.” She bit her lip and looked around before adding in a lowered voice. “Do you think he’s gone mad or are there really men here like those the natives speak of?” The woman held her hand to her neck, her large, green eyes wide and her lips trembling.

“Bah! Do not be silly, Margaret. There is no one living here in this area who would see you come to harm.” Amelie reached out and took the woman’s hands. “Don’t you see? That is why we are here. The men say there is danger and we have come to take you to see Lorcan, Dana and Tarin. They say they can protect us better there.”

It was as though a large weight fell from the woman’s shoulders and she smiled. “I’m so glad.” Her brow furrowed. “But that means William…” She let her words trail off as her face fell.

“It means your brother was mistaken.” Amelie smiled. “Now where is your sister?” Amelie leaned forward to peer into the small room beyond. We must finish packing your things so we may all continue on to safety.”

“Sara is in the other room taking a nap. She doesn’t feel well.” Margaret looked back over her shoulder. “I hope it’s nothing serious.” Margaret led them into the next room.

Hope stared at the little girl on the bed. Her face was flushed, her sweat-dampened hair stuck to her forehead.

“Good. Her fever has broken.” Margaret rushed to her side and bathed her face with what must have been a cool cloth.

While Hope was no doctor, she had taken care of many children throughout the years. For some reason, Bob thought she’d be more likely to conceive if she were around kids all of the time. She couldn’t remember how many times he had volunteered her services as a babysitter. She frowned as she thought about it. Maybe he had pressed her into the babysitting service to give him time to spend with his girlfriends. God only knew how many he’d had.

With a shake of her head, Hope put the thoughts of her philandering ex-husband out of her mind and moved toward the bed. “Can I help?” Hope didn’t have the slightest idea what she would do, but she knew she just couldn’t stand around doing nothing.

She rested her hand on the child’s forehead and gasped. “Her temperature has to be near one hundred and four! She’s burning up. You have to do something.” She turned to the men. “Surely you can take her to town, to a doctor.”

“We don’t have a doctor in town.” Joran stepped forward, his hat in his hands. “You saw the town. It’s mostly empty. We have the buildings, but no one to run the businesses as yet.”

“I’m not talking about your pretend town in your pretend time.” She stomped her foot. “I’m talking about a real town. You have to have a car or truck around here somewhere. The nearest city shouldn’t be more than an hour or two away.” She stared at them all as they stood looking at the poor child. “You can’t just let her die.”

“No,” Braxton agreed as he moved into the room. “We cannot just stand here and watch her die.” Bending, he scooped the girl up into his arms and walked out into the sunlight. “Have Carella transport us all aboard,” he said to Joran as soon as he stepped off the narrow front porch.

“
All
of us?”

“Yes,” Braxton replied with a nod. “All of us. I’m not having Will coming after us because he thinks we’ve turned his little sister. He can see for himself what we did for him and what we are about to do for Sara.” He flicked a glance in Hope’s direction. “And, perhaps, it will convince Hope that we are telling her the truth.”

Joran pulled a small device from his pocket, pressed a button, and held it to his mouth. “Carella? Would you transport our group to the medical bay on board? We have a sick child.”

“Of course, Colonel. I shall have you on board in a moment. Transporting in three, two, one.”

The world began to shimmer around her as the ground faded away to a glossy white tile beneath Hope’s feet. Reaching out, she grabbed for Joran’s arm and grasped the forearm of one of the monsters she’d seen when she first regained consciousness. If what the two men said was true, this…thing standing before her wearing Joran’s clothes was really Joran, after all.

“Eep!” was the only sound that passed her flapping lips before she closed her eyes and embraced her escape through the darkness.

Joran stared down at Hope’s face as he held her. He shifted back into his human form and turned to Braxton. “We should have expected that, I suppose.”

He turned his attention to the others gathered around Sara, whom Carella had transported straight to one of the beds in the medical bay. “Did they react?” He wasn’t sure since he was too busy trying to catch Hope as she began to fall.

“No. Should they have?” Braxton asked with a shrug. “It’s not as though they haven’t seen it before.”

“I know, but Sara hasn’t. I wasn’t sure if she’d seen anything or not.”

“She’s too sick to care if she did.” Braxton turned his attention back to the little girl. “What’s wrong with her, Carella?”

“The girl is weak and dehydrated.” Carella paused in her assessment, most likely to take more readings. “Her temperature is dangerously high. I am administering a fever reducer now.”

A fog filled the area above and around where the girl lay. “I have surrounded her with a force field, not that you all haven’t been exposed.” More fog filled the room where they stood, and the women gasped. “Do not concern yourselves. The fog is a medication to ensure you do not contract the virus the child has. It contains a small amount of the virus along with an antibody. It should have a prophylactic effect and prevent you all from getting ill as well.”

They all looked at Braxton and himself as though they had all of the answers. “She means that it will stop the sickness before anyone else gets ill.”

As much as he hated to release Hope, Joran knew he couldn’t stand in the medical bay holding her indefinitely. It wouldn’t be comfortable for her when she woke.

With a sigh, he moved to rest her on a bed nearby, brushed her hair back from her face and pressed the button for the safety field that would keep her from rolling off the bed and onto the floor.

“What sort of illness does she have?”

“Her temperature and the antibodies she is attempting to produce would suggest that she has contracted an illness that, before now, was considered uniquely wolven.”