“Mika?”
She looked at Delacroix’s pale face and then glanced down. Blood began to spread across his chest, blooming like a poppy flower on his white shirt. “No!” she cried. Panic set in, but she pushed it down. Whoever shot at them was still out there, and she had to get them to safety. Slinging Delacroix over her shoulder, she darted toward the doors leading into The Enclave. Thank goodness for Lycan strength.
“Call the medical wing, now!” she screamed at the security guard manning the desk as she laid him on the floor. When his gaze landed on Delacroix, he turned pale but grabbed the phone and began to frantically dial.
The scent of blood filled her nostrils, making her want to vomit. “Goddammit, Marc!” she wailed. “Don’t you fucking die on me.”
“I don’t understand. You—” He coughed then nodded at her chest.
She shrugged her coat off and poked at the hole the bullet made in her shirt to show him that wound had closed up. “Yes, I’m fine. Alive. I’ll explain later. Just hang on, okay?” Oh God, Oh God. It was all coming back again. The accident. Joe. No, she couldn’t do this again. “Please don’t die. You can’t die, you hear me? I swear I’m gonna kill you if you die.”
He laughed, then winced in pain. “I’m sure you will. Cher, I need to tell—”
“Stand back.”
Relief poured through her as she recognized Dr. Blake standing over her. He was dressed in his robe and slippers, his hair mussed, but eyes alert. She scooted away to give him space, but not too far that she couldn’t keep her eyes on Delacroix.
“What happened?” Dr. Blake asked as he examined the wound.
“Gunshot.” She took a deep breath. Everything would be okay now, but she had to stay calm. “Must have been a long-distance high-powered rifle. I didn’t hear or see anyone else on the street. The bullet, it went through me, and then lodged in his chest.”
The doctor blinked up at her in confusion, then she opened her coat to show him her belly. Having been the physician for most of the True Mate females, he understood quickly. “Looks like you were able to slow down the impact, and the wound’s not deep. I just need to take the bullet out, and he’ll be fine.” Behind him, two nurses were wheeling in a gurney. “Let’s take him to medical.”
Mika couldn’t—wouldn’t—fall apart. Not now. Delacroix was going to be fine; he was a Lycan, unlike Joe. Dr. Blake would stitch him up, and he’d be walking around in a couple hours.
But someone tried to kill her and unknowingly, her baby and Delacroix. She had to find out who it was and then … well, there was no saying what she would do them, other than it wouldn’t be pretty.
The shooter probably used a high-powered sniper rifle from a distance, as she or Delacroix would have easily detected anyone coming for them at close range. Probably hid in the building across the street or in a car parked a few hundred yards away.
She rose up from where she was sitting on the couch. They would be long gone by now, but if she went out, she could search the area and—
The door to the medical wing waiting room flew open, startling her. “Mika! You’re—Jesus Christ!” Lucas’s expression turned from surprise to shock when his gaze dropped to the dark red stain across her sweater. “They didn’t say you’d been hurt too.” His arms wound around her. “Medical called me and—” He froze as soon as he pulled her to his body. Slowly, his arms lowered, and he stepped away. For the third time that night, the unflappable Alpha of New York looked flabbergasted. “Mika … you’re …”
“Er, it’s a long story.” It was hot inside, so she’d taken off her coat. Wearing only her sweater and leggings, her baby bump would have been obvious, even if Lucas didn’t feel it for himself.
The dark slashes of his brows drew together. “True Mate, huh? Well, where is he?” He glanced around, as if looking for someone. “Is he from the Moscow clan? Is he following you back?”
She mentally slapped her forehead. It hadn’t even occurred to her anyone would think that. But then, it would be a good cover story, if she could just have some time alone to craft it. “Can we talk about it some other time? Someone tried to kill me.” And hurt Delacroix.
Lucas sat them down on the couch. “Tell me everything.”
She proceeded to tell him the events starting from when the cab dropped her off. Her voice faltered when she said Delacroix happened to be outside when she arrived—which was not a lie, technically—but Lucas didn’t notice or remark if he thought she was keeping something from him.
“Do you think it could be the mages?” he asked.
“Who else could it be?”
“They’ve never targeted anyone individually, except for me and Adrianna. Why would they want to kill you?”
“That’s what I need to find out. Maybe Daric or Cross will have some intelligence and—”
“Michalina Jean Westbrooke. What in the world is going on?”
Oh crap.
Alynna Westbrooke stood over her, hands on her hips, and Mika was reminded about all those times when she was a kid and had done something naughty.
Had she forgotten that her parents lived in The Enclave? And that Lucas or someone who had witnessed what happened would have immediately called Alynna Westbrooke to tell her that her daughter had been shot just outside the building?
Lucas looked at her sympathetically but could only shrug. “I’ll, uh, go and wait for Astrid so I can brief her.” Even the Alpha of New York knew not to get between a mother and her pup. He stood up and gave her hand a supporting squeeze.
“Hey, Mom,” she greeted weakly.
A lot of people mistook Alynna for her
