WithHerCraving (8 page)

Jarvis helped her finish dressing then scooped her into his
arms.

“Hey!” She immediately twisted against him. Her leg throbbed
too much to fight him but she had to do it. “I’m not being carried into that
den.”

“Those mouthwatering breasts feel damn good smashed against
my chest. Keep doing that. It makes up for me dressing instead of undressing
you.”

“Damn it, Jarvis,” she complained.

He simply tightened his grip and entered the McAllister den.

“Bertha will be here any minute,” Marc announced, stopping
at the bottom of the stairs when Jarvis bound up them with Katrin. “Just get
her comfortable and I’ll keep Heather from trying to play nurse.”

“I heard that!” Heather yelled from somewhere downstairs.

* * * * *

Bertha was a salty old female who didn’t mince words or howl
anything that didn’t need to be said. Katrin might have liked her if she
weren’t in so much trouble.

“Clean break by the looks of it. Let’s get it wrapped up
tight and see how she’s doing tomorrow. I’ve got pain medication that will make
sleeping easier tonight.”

“I’ve never had pain medication and I’ve broken bones
before,” Katrin managed. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate and
she already knew it would be a sleepless night as she endured the pain until
her bone began healing. For a werewolf, it might take up to three days before
the bone was completely mended and the pain subsided.

“Then let me give you a treat. Open wide.” Bertha pulled a
single pill and a bottle of water out of her bag. She opened the water bottle
and held both to Katrin. “Bottoms up, my dear.”

Katrin accepted. Living without the pain until her bone was
healed sounded like a decent plan. She popped the pill into her mouth and drank
from the water bottle.

“Now there’s a good little bitch.” Bertha chuckled and
pushed stringy gray hair from her face. She then ignored Katrin and spoke to
Jarvis, who had been leaning against the far wall. “Come here and help me wrap
this. My paws aren’t what they used to be,” she informed him, chuckling when
she rustled around in her bag again.

Katrin didn’t notice her pain disappear. She barely was able
to focus on Bertha or Jarvis as they tightly wrapped her leg and rested it on
several pillows. Instead she faded into a dreamless sleep, one free of pain and
worry over her future, her littermates, Jarvis or who would judge her for the
blood that ran through her. The bed was incredibly comfortable and even the
human smells that were prominent in the room didn’t bother her. Quite possibly,
it was the best sleep she’d ever had in her life.

“Marc had to go into work,” Heather told Jarvis when he came
downstairs the next morning.

Sleeping alongside Katrin had been heaven and pure torture.
Her soft, sensuous body had barely moved. He had wrapped his arms around her
and held her close. The wrappings around her leg were a continuous reminder
that she was healing. Bertha had given her a drug strong enough to knock her
out so she wouldn’t endure the initial pain while her leg healed. As much as he
appreciated knowing he wouldn’t smell the pain and stubbornness of Katrin
trying to prove she knew how to handle the healing of a broken bone—even if she
had done it before—already he ached to have her awake.

“He told me to tell you he won’t be gone all day,” Heather
was saying as she handed him a steaming cup of coffee. “Our house, or den, is
yours while your mate is healing. Feel free to watch TV or do whatever you
wish. I have to leave for work in a few minutes.” She spoke as she hurried
around the kitchen, pulling frozen food from a microwave. It had absolutely no
smell.

Jarvis hid his surprise when she hummed in approval after
taking a bite. He wasn’t even sure what it was she ate. “Thank you,” he said,
being humble. “You and your mate are very gracious in allowing Katrin to mend
here.”

“How is she doing?” Heather asked, gulping coffee and eating
whatever it was she was eating in a few gulps.

“She’s still asleep.”

Heather finished her breakfast and threw the cardboard plate
she’d eaten the food from into a trash can under the sink. She swallowed her
coffee, put the cup in the sink, then reached into a cabinet and took out
another cup that had a lid on it. She poured coffee into it until it was full
and put the lid on.

“Good. I’m sure she needs her rest. Marc told me she broke
her leg. I feel so terrible. It’s all my fault.”

“Katrin will be fine by tomorrow,” Jarvis said, knowing he
didn’t need to hide his scent from Heather. Nonetheless, he kept his
frustration over the human pushing Katrin into running hidden the best he
could.

Heather shook her head. “It’s not fair that werewolves heal
so quickly and we have to lie and suffer in pain forever when we’re hurt.” She
smiled at Jarvis as she hurried out of the kitchen. “Oh, Marc told me to tell
you that your pack leader won’t come by until your mate is awake and coherent.”

Jarvis followed her into the living room and to the front
door. He wasn’t looking forward to discussing his mating to Katrin until she
was awake and the two of them had discussed it privately first.

“I have to go to work. Bye,” she called out and was out the
door, closing it behind her.

Jarvis wasn’t comfortable hanging out in the McAllister den
by himself. He’d never spent much time watching TV. Being whelped in the
mountains and running through them most his life hadn’t offered the luxury of
cable or internet.

After leaving a note for Katrin on the nightstand, Jarvis
left the McAllister den and walked along the highway into Prince George.
McAllister’s den was a good ten miles from Toubec’s ranch. It was an overcast
day and the temperatures were low, but enough humidity made the air thick and
Jarvis was sweaty by the time he’d reached town. He stopped in Howley’s for a
drink and to cool off before heading to Toubec’s to find Jaeger.

“Give me two longnecks, Shackley,” a
lunewulf
male at
the bar said.

Jarvis stood next to the two
lunewulf
males ordering
and made eye contact briefly, but long enough to smell their righteous stench
as the one closest tried looking down his nose at Jarvis. It was a futile
attempt since Jarvis stood several inches taller than the male.

“Whatever is coldest,” Jarvis told the bartender and parked
his rear on the barstool.

He paid for the longneck and tipped the bartender generously
before guzzling almost half of it. Cold perspiration dripped from the outside
of the bottle. He fought the urge to roll the bottle across his forehead. In
the mountains the temperatures never soared this high. He would need to get
accustomed to it though, if the plan forming in his head was carried out.
First, he needed to decide what to say to his littermate.

“Did you hear about the Malta werewolf?” the
lunewulf
next to him said to the other male and bartender.

“The howlings are there’s a female out at Toubec’s,” the
other
lunewulf
said.

Jarvis glanced over at the
lunewulfs
at the same time
the bartender did. Shackley growled but continued stacking boxes of beer behind
his bar. He didn’t smell overly interested in the conversation. Jarvis was
though. He focused on his beer bottle and listened while his stomach churned in
disgust over the spicy anger and righteous stench of the two males next to him.

“What I heard,” the
lunewulf
sitting closest to
Jarvis said, “is she killed one of those Cariboo while on a run.”

“I’ve heard she sent dishes flying inside the Toubecs’ den.”

The two of them downed their beer and looked at Jarvis. He finished
the rest of his and barely managed to maintain his anger as he slid the empty
bottle across the bar. Holding his hand up when the bartender started to bring
him another, Jarvis slid off the barstool. If the howlings about Katrin had
made it into Prince George, there really was only one thing to do. He had to
get her away from this pack.

“Toubec will put her down. You don’t need to hear the
howlings to know that’s true. Rock Toubec can’t stand Malta werewolves. He’ll
snap that female’s neck himself.”

Jarvis stormed out of the bar. He no longer cared about the
temperature. Heading across town, he damn near ran the entire distance to
Toubec’s. By the time he hit the ranch, he sprinted around the main den and
outbuildings toward the back land where his littermate would be.

The work truck was where they usually parked it. It was half
loaded and the smell of sweat was as thick as the humidity. Jarvis trudged up
the hill until he picked up the scent of Jaeger. His littermate lugged timber
over his shoulder. Another Cariboo male picked up the rear end.

“Jarvis,” Jaeger called out, sniffing the air and studying
his littermate as he approached.

Jarvis waited until the two of them had loaded the lumber.
Jaeger wiped his hands on his jeans and glanced at the other Cariboo before
approaching Jarvis.

“Where have you been?” he whispered, glancing over his
shoulder.

“With Katrin.”

“Keep it down, Cariboo,” Jaeger said under his breath.

“What are you smelling?” Jarvis asked.

“Nothing good.” Jaeger took Jarvis’ arm and led him away
from the truck and the other male. “Where is she?”

“Safe,” Jarvis told him, glancing at the male, who was now
leaning against the side of the truck watching the two of them. “Jaeger, we’re
leaving Prince George.”

“What? Where are you going?” Jaeger hissed.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jarvis murmured, looking toward the
male. He smelled a bit too curious.

Jaeger immediately smelled Jarvis’ lie. His littermate took
his arm and walked farther away from the other male.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

“Katrin can’t stay here,” Jarvis whispered. “It’s too
dangerous.”

“You’re probably right there. The howlings have grown since
she left. There are growls about you too.” Jaeger glanced at the male watching
them. “I’m sure it will travel fast that you’ve been here. Where are you going?
I’ll go with you.”

“I think we might join Luther,” Jarvis admitted. He hadn’t
told anyone his plan yet. Not even Katrin.

“I’m running with you. Where are you staying right now?”

Jarvis told him, then left his littermate. Jaeger would run
to the McAllister den the next day once Katrin had time to heal.

After stopping at the small den where he and Jaeger had
lived and stuffing all his clothes into a backpack, Jarvis then stopped by the
Toubec den and spoke with the male briefly. The honorable thing to do was thank
the male for the den and the chance to hunt on his land. Toubec said little but
smelled concerned. Jarvis didn’t care how the male smelled. All of these
werewolves were insane if they thought Katrin was going to bring any of them
trouble.

It was midafternoon when Jarvis reached the McAllister den.
Walking along the highway, after taking a shortcut through the fields and
meadows between McAllister’s den and Toubec’s, he slowed when he saw the patrol
car sitting in the driveway. Jarvis sniffed the air. Among the stench of
gasoline and exhaust he picked up the scent of a werewolf. The male in the car
wasn’t McAllister though.

Even in his human form, Jarvis’ hackles went up. The tiny
hairs along his spine stood erect.

Jarvis approached the Prince George police officer, a growl
lodged in his throat. “Why are you here?” he demanded. His female was in there
and Jarvis would take anyone out, regardless of whose den this was.

“There’s a female Malta werewolf in there,” the male said, his
arm resting on the rolled-down window. He stared up with sunglasses that showed
Jarvis’ reflection.

“And so you’re going to sit out here and guard her like a
prisoner?”

The male got out of the patrol car slowly, sizing Jarvis up.
The cop was a thick-chested
lunewulf
with a blond crew cut. Jarvis stood
several inches taller. Although the male was in his prime, he was a good ten to
fifteen years older than Jarvis. It would hardly be a fair fight. The male
didn’t carry a scent, an attribute obtained only by years of working to keep
all emotions in check. Jarvis admired the male for that.

“I’m going to sit out here and make sure she doesn’t go
anywhere,” the male told him.

“When she goes somewhere it will be with me,” Jarvis said
and started toward the den.

“Wait right there,” the male
lunewulf
cop said,
coming after him.

Jarvis spun around. “Go back to your police station,
lunewulf
,”
Jarvis growled, unable to keep his teeth from growing. His words were slightly
garbled and his hands fisted at his side when he faced the cop. “Tell whoever
sent you over here that she is fine, safe and not a danger to anyone. But
I
might be if anyone else shows up here and tries keeping me from her.”

The cop—the tag on his uniform said Beuerlein—stared at
Jarvis for a moment. If there were any thoughts in the male’s mind of taking
Jarvis on, he welcomed the fight. He wouldn’t attack a cop but he would damn
well protect his female and make sure this
lunewulf
pack knew Katrin
wasn’t the one who might cause trouble if anyone tried messing with her.

Jarvis turned his back on the cop once again and walked up
to the front door. It was locked. Then he remembered the back door was unlocked
and started around the house.

Beuerlein was either an idiot or believed Jarvis wouldn’t
really attack him. He wasn’t daunted but followed Jarvis until they were in the
backyard. “Cariboo,” he growled.

Jarvis stopped with his hand on the back door.

“Are you planning on leaving with the female?”

“She’s my female,” Jarvis informed him.

Beuerlein nodded. “That’s fine. When are you leaving?”

“She’s injured. Once she can travel.”

“Where do you plan on going?”

Jarvis opened the glass door. “That’s none of your God damn
business.”

There was movement inside the house and Jarvis took a step
inside, ready to attack, when Katrin hobbled up to him carrying a glass of
milk.

“What’s going on?” she asked, sniffing the air, then
wrinkling her adorable nose. Her hair was tousled and it looked as if she’d
recently woken up. She still wore the nightgown he’d put her in once he’d
brought her back to this den.

“Are you Katrin Keller?” Beuerlein asked and took a step
closer to the sliding doors.

Katrin didn’t smell as if she were in pain. She smelled so
damn good, though, every muscle in Jarvis’ body hardened when she stepped closer.
He didn’t want her anywhere near that cop with his attitude.

“Go back to the kitchen,” Jarvis growled, his teeth
clenched.

“Why does he want to know?” Katrin asked.

Beuerlein heard her. “I have something for you.”

Jarvis didn’t move fast enough. The cop took another step
toward Katrin, then pulled a gun. He fired and Katrin looked at him for a
moment, stunned, then doubled over.

Jarvis roared. He leapt at the male, not caring what type of
uniform the asshole wore. When Beuerlein aimed it at him, Jarvis ignored the
weapon. He pounced, his yell not quite human when he made contact. Beuerlein
fired twice and Jarvis went limp on the ground.