She’d been a constant source of irritation since he’d been moved to PSI Division B Headquarters six days ago. Prior to that, he’d spent just over a week in recovery at Savannah’s PSI branch facility. Of course, most of that time he’d been in a medically induced coma, which he almost preferred over dealing with Ms. Perky.
He still wasn’t sure who he’d pissed off to get stuck with the world’s cheeriest “helper,” but it was evident he was being punished for something.
The captain of Team Eight entered the room, his attention going right to the therapist.
She was still smiling.
“How is our patient?” Garth asked as he swung his gaze toward Rurik.
“When did you get back from Savannah?” asked Rurik, as the rest of Team Eight, at last check, was temporarily in Georgia to help with issues PSI had been having there.
Garth checked his watch. “About thirty minutes ago. A few of us caught a flight, along with Bill and Gus. I’m due to head back later tonight.”
The Viking’s long blond hair was tied back at the nape of his neck and he was missing his trademark small braids. His hair was also a lot shinier than it had been when Rurik last saw him.
Inhaling, Rurik smelled peaches, and his lip curled with a mix of a laugh and a disgusted grunt. “Your mate did something to your hair, didn’t she?”
With a groan, Rurik’s commanding officer folded his arms across his chest and stood just a little taller, as if that would somehow make him look less like he was about to star in a shampoo commercial.
It didn’t work.
“No,” said Garth, his Scandinavian accent even thicker than usual. The once-feared wolf-shifter was now neutered.
“Liar,” said Rurik, amused by his captain’s discomfort. “You’re shiny.”
“Am not,” returned Garth.
Mating seemed to be catching as of late, and Garth hadn’t been spared.
Rurik watched his captain closely. “Nicolette with you?”
“No. She’s staying down there with her uncle and Clara since this is just a day trip for me. I don’t like her traveling a lot while pregnant,” said Garth.
Rurik laughed. “She’s not in her third trimester. I’m sure it’s fine.”
Garth quirked a brow. “Since when do you know about trimesters and safe traveling for pregnant women?”
Rurik shrugged. “I overheard Duke arguing about having to fly somewhere not long back. He tried to use the excuse that his mate is expecting to get out of flying.”
“And?” asked Garth.
“James told him it was fine. Gave him a lecture on it all. I was within earshot. Information stuck,” added Rurik.
Garth seemed to mull it over. “I feel better having her close to Landros right now if I’m going to be stuck in meetings here most of the day. I’d worry about her if she were here at the house, alone, especially with everything that has been going on lately.”
“Makes sense,” replied Rurik. “Uh, thank her for the cupcakes she sent me.”
Garth’s eyes widened. “She sent you cupcakes? Did you eat them?”
“I’m still alive, so no,” returned Rurik. “They smelled bad, erm, funny.”
“They taste even worse,” warned Garth. “Don’t tell her I said that.”
Rurik cleared his throat. “It was a nice…gesture.”
Nicolette, Garth’s mate, had been yet another unfortunate victim of The Asia Project. She too had been tested on when she was little. The damn enemy’s experiments were still causing issues years later.
Abruptly, the memory of the little girl who had hidden beneath his desk years ago filtered back to Rurik. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember the name the other children had called her. He did recall what he called her though—Little Paw.
The slightest of smiles tugged at his mouth as he remembered the way she’d hooked her finger and summoned him closer, wanting the small stuffed bear, and how she’d clung to the Statue of Liberty figurine just as tightly as she’d clung to his neck.
A pang of guilt moved through him at the reality that he’d not been able to totally fulfill his promise to her. He’d stayed with her while Blaise had worked on her wounds, taking extra time in hopes of minimizing scarring. Rurik had remained close to her as she’d eaten something and had then been taken by one of the women who worked in the medical wing to get cleaned up. He’d even been there when the little girl had nodded off later that night, exhausted, clutching the Statue of Liberty and the stuffed bear.
Rurik had sat in a chair outside of the room, watching over the child. A number of other little ones had been in the room as well.
The same little blonde girl who had caused issues and ended up in a knock-down drag-out scrimmage with the ink-haired one had tried to demand Rurik’s attention. She’d tugged at his pant leg at every chance and talked endlessly about nothing—making snide comments about the injury Little Paw had sustained. He hated to admit that she gave him a headache, but it was true.
Despite it all, his concern and his focus had remained on Little Paw.
That hadn’t gone over well with the other child, leading to a meltdown and a temper tantrum. He could still remember how quickly she’d gone from all smiles to hitting his leg and then throwing anything she could get her hands on. Her eyes had even begun to swirl with shades of yellow and orange—though he could detect no discernable traces of shifter in her.
Rurik had allowed the tantrum to continue right up until she lunged for Little Paw. He’d intervened then, picking up the screaming and kicking child and taking her to the hallway, where he set her down and then proceeded to act much like the goalie in a soccer game as she attempted to reenter the room.
Mercifully, Boomer and Gram had come to his rescue and helped to calm the blonde girl and had tried to convince Rurik to go. He didn’t budge. He’d stood guard there, making sure only operatives he trusted gained entrance to the room.
He’d fully intended to stay near Little
