The black and silver wolves took down the fat man with relative ease. The black wolf—Zan—went for his throat, and his high-pitched scream was abruptly cut off, ending in a sickening gurgle. Next to them, the big white wolf had the other suit down, the body twitching underneath his bulk.
Crouching, the silver wolf raised his head and fixed his steely gaze on the security guard, who’d slid down the wall and was staring at the carnage. Fur retracted, limbs reshaped, but Jax didn’t shift back all the way. Instead, he remained at half-shift, muscular body huge, long muzzle pulled back into a snarl, revealing deadly canines. A terrifying and awesome sight, especially to the blubbering guard.
“You,” Jax said, his voice rough as gravel. Deliberately, he pointed one four-inch claw at the horrified young man. “Do I need to take care of you next?”
The guard was so stricken with terror, he hadn’t even drawn his weapon. A dark stain spread across his crotch. “N-no! I d-don’t know wh-what the fuck’s g-goin’ on and I d-don’t care! Just don’t eat me, please!”
Jax tilted his head, as though considering the request. “Then here’s what you’re going to do. Wait fifteen minutes after we’re gone and then tell your boss you found these guys just like this. You didn’t see a damned thing. Then if I were you, I’d put in my resignation and move far, far away. Got that?”
“Y-yeah! Shit, I got it!” The guard nodded emphatically, but didn’t move.
Jax looked to Kira. “He telling the truth?”
For a second she was surprised, and then a little spurt of pride went through her. He was treating her like a team member, asking for her help as an Empath. Trusting her judgment, and in front of the others.
She opened her senses to the guard and was battered by waves of fear, confusion. Hope. He only wanted to make it out alive.
“Yes, he is. There’s no deception in him.”
“Then he lives.” Jax stood and retrieved his pants, completing his shift to human form. “We’re out of here.”
Jax offered her a hand up and she took it, averting her eyes while Nick and Aric yanked on their camos, shoved their feet into the discarded boots. In seconds they were ready to continue, the whole horrible episode having taken less than five minutes.
With a quick peek, she saw everyone was decent. Zan was wiping a seeping bullet wound in his side with the edge of his T-shirt, grimacing in pain.
“You all right?” Nick asked sharply.
“Think so. It’s a through-and-through. I’m already healing,” he replied. He was a little out of breath, but standing on his own.
Nick looked around. “Anyone else? I know I heard at least one other hit.”
“Took one high in the chest,” Jax muttered. His face was pale, sweat rolling down his temples.
“What?” Kira gasped. “Let me see.”
He shook his head. “No time. Mac can take a look in the van.”
“Are you healing?” Nick’s voice was tight with concern.
“Not sure.”
Which wasn’t an answer. Eyeing his chest, she spotted the small hole in the dark fabric on the left side, barely noticeable. On closer inspection, she could see wetness spreading on his shirt, and it didn’t seem to be slowing any. A chill shook her. When he’d rescued her from the two men that first time, he’d been hit and had healed almost instantly. And again, when he and Aric had fought, their scratches and bites had vanished quickly.
He wasn’t healing now. With every step they took to the elevator, and then across the parking garage, making their escape, he slowed. When they reached the hole in the fence, his limp was worse than ever, he was breathing hard, and his friends were exchanging worried looks. His shirt was almost completely soaked with blood, and the front of his cammos was fast becoming saturated. He stumbled and Zan was there, slinging Jax’s right arm over his shoulders, half-carrying him.
Halfway to the van, his knees buckled, and his eyes rolled back in his head.
“Shit!” Zan caught him as he collapsed, lifting him into a fireman’s hold.
“You got him?” Kalen asked as they reached the mouth of the alley where he and Hammer were waiting.
“Yep. Damn, he’s heavy though.”
They were moving fast and Kira had to jog to keep up. Fear gripped her by the throat and wouldn’t let go. He hadn’t felt well to start with, but he’d insisted on coming anyway. And now he’d been shot and couldn’t heal.
If that was true, if she caused the death of the man she loved, she’d never forgive herself.
Back at the vehicles, the two doctors met them, faces grim but determined. The scene took on a surreal quality as the sick pair of shifters were loaded into the SUV with Dr. Mallory, Ryon, and Aric. Kalen helped Zander get Jax into the van, and once inside, Zan refused to let go of his best friend. Kira crouched in the back, close enough to hold her mate’s clammy hand, but giving Mac room to work. Tears sprang to her eyes, rolled down her cheeks.
“Jax?”
No response. He lay horribly still as Mac cut his shirt up the middle and parted the flaps, exposing the wound. Blood was streaming from the hole located high on the left side of his chest, inches above the nipple, close to the collarbone.
“I’m pretty sure the bullet missed his lung,” the doc said. The relief in the vehicle was tangible. Quickly she checked his back, and put a damper on the good news. “But it’s still in his chest and he’s losing too much blood.”
“Let me do my thing.” Placing a hand over the wound, Zan pressed down firmly. A blue-tinted glow lit his hand, and Kalen sucked in a breath, eyes wide.
“You’re a Healer?”
“Yes, but it’s not working.” Zan, holding his friend’s head in his lap, removed his bloodied palm and swallowed hard. “Why the hell isn’t he healing, Mac?”
“I’ve got a theory, but it’s privileged information.”
“What? That’s bullshit! Is he dying or something?” Zan barked at the doctor, dread stamped on his handsome features.
“Or something,” she agreed, her gaze flicking briefly to Kira.
Who felt like a steaming pile of shit.
“He’ll recover, though. Right?” Zan asked.
After a pause, Mac nodded. “I believe so.”
“You
“Easy, man.” Kalen touched Zan’s shoulder. “Let the doc get to work so she can help your friend. Okay?”
For a few seconds, Zan visibly struggled with himself, perhaps to keep from snarling at the newcomer. In the end, however, he just sagged against the side of the van. “You’re right.”
Mac kept working, placing a pressure bandage on the wound. Next she hooked up an IV, and Kalen held the bag of fluid aloft for her. “Thank you.”
“No sweat,” he said softly.
Kira wiped the tears with her shirt, but they wouldn’t stop coming. She’d never felt so helpless. And the guilt ate her guts like a worm pushing through rotten soil. She clung to Jax’s hand, brushing the rough skin with her thumb, contemplating whether his team would blame her for this.
But they couldn’t possibly hate her more than she hated herself.
His sternum had been cracked open with a rusty screwdriver and a mallet, liquid fire poured into the cavity.
