Changing Hearts (26 page)

He stared hard at Micah for a moment, willing the other man to remove her from the scene, but neither of them moved. The icy feeling in his chest wouldn’t go away. Death couldn’t possibly be worse than this. He’d thought dishonor was bad but this felt ten times worse.

A movement to his left caused him to face the center of the circle again. Slice had stepped into the circle. He sneered as he raised his hands over his head. With nothing to lose now, Slade did the same. They both changed to wolf.

More evenly matched in size and strength, they circled one another warily, each looking for an opening. Slade ignored the persistent pain from Maggie’s bite on his shoulder and concentrated on the wolf in front of him.

Slice snarled and charged. Slade met him in the center of the circle and they fought in earnest. Biting, tearing, rending one another. Blood began to flow on both sides. Slade had a slight edge in speed and experience.

A yelp cut through the noise as Slice backed up. He wouldn’t put any weight on his left foreleg. Slade moved toward him and Slice met the charge.

Joie tried to look away, she’d seen enough when Maggie died. Micah met her eyes once then turned his attention back to the fight. The tension around her felt palpable. Every man and woman in the circle focused on the two wolves trying to tear one another apart.

Another yelp from the circle, this one deeper than the last. She knew it was Malcolm, knew he’d been hurt. The spot on her neck where he’d marked her ached. She forced herself to look toward the circle again.

Blood flowed freely from a gash on the top of Malcolm’s head. A flap of skin moved every time he moved his head. Joie felt the bile rise in her throat and swallowed hard. She refused to be sick here. She’d be strong just as she’d promised. Malcolm wouldn’t have any reason to be ashamed of her.

The two wolves were rolling around now, each trying to gain the upper hand. Finally, finally, Malcolm succeeded in getting to his feet. He clamped down on the back of the other wolf’s neck. Joie cried out softly as the other wolf went limp under him. Malcolm backed off, breathing even harder now and gave that howl again.

With chills racing up and down her spine, she watched as he transformed back to human again. She’d taken a step toward him when Micah stopped her.

Joie could see blood on Malcolm’s shoulder, more on his chest and forehead. One thigh was ripped open as well. He waited until the body had been dragged away, again by two females, then moved back to the center of the circle. For a long moment no one moved.

Suddenly, the man Joie knew as Frank stepped into the circle. Beside her, Micah made a sound of surprise. Malcolm panted as he met Frank’s eyes.

Frank raised his hands above his head, slowly, and Malcolm did the same. Joie touched Micah’s arm.

“He can’t fight again. He’s hurt.”

“He has to fight as long as challengers step forward, Joie.” Micah’s eyes were soft, she knew he wanted to help somehow. Joie turned her face back to the circle, and saw Malcolm looking at her, his face like a piece of stone. She bit her lip as she looked away from him.

Malcolm and Frank shifted then began to circle one another. Malcolm limped, hardly putting any weight on his front leg and lifting his back leg in obvious discomfort. Joie wasn’t sure she could watch another fight. When the snarling and growling started, she closed her eyes. Micah’s arm came around her shoulders for support and she leaned against him gratefully. The comfort was appreciated, but she missed the feel of Malcolm’s arms.

Out of the corner of his eye, Slade saw Joie slump against Micah. He knew this would be his last fight. Maggie’s bite troubled him but not as badly as the blood flowing into his eyes and the pain in his back leg.

He fought hard but knew he was losing, getting weaker. Frank bit right over Maggie’s bite and he yelped. Frank released his shoulder then grabbed him by the back of the neck, pressing his advantage and forcing Slade onto his side.

When Frank let go, instead of trying to get up, Slade lay on his side for a moment then rolled onto his back. Frank lunged toward his belly. He instinctively flinched but didn’t move otherwise. Frank snarled and lunged again. Slade let his head flop back, closed his eyes and waited for certain death.

When the attack didn’t come, he opened his eyes. Frank stood over him in human form, breathing hard and bleeding from the cuts and bites Slade had been able to inflict.

“Do you yield?” Frank’s voice came out more growl than anything else but he understood. Slade rolled onto his stomach and belly-crawled toward Frank. He heard the Pack’s disbelief as they reacted to his submission.

Frank kicked him hard in the side. Slade accepted the blow without a sound, felt his ribs fracture again and felt his blood soaking into the ground below him. The physical wounds hurt but the pain in his chest was worse.

Frank moved away from him, into the center of the circle. He made one complete turn, accepting the acknowledgement of the Pack then walked out of the circle. One by one the Pack walked through the circle around Slade’s motionless body. They left him there in the dirt as they went into the house. Some stayed behind to remove Maggie’s and Slice’s bodies then they too went into the house. An eerie silence descended on the grounds.

When the last Pack member had gone inside the house, Micah let go of Joie. She ran straight to Malcolm, falling to her knees in the dirt beside him. Micah moved up beside her, then tried to lift her away from Slade’s body.

“No! He’s still alive. Please, please help me.” Joie touched his head and Slade opened his eyes. He stared at her for a moment then flicked his tongue out to taste her one more time.

Micah knelt beside him. “You kept your word, Slade. I’ll keep mine. Your mate and child will be safe.”

Slade raised his head slowly and nodded then let his head fall back to the ground. He understood what Micah said though he had no strength at the moment.

What he’d told Joie was true, he was thinking as a human in wolf form. Knowing his injuries were severe, he wanted to give in this time to his animal instinct, wanted to crawl away somewhere to die in peace. Joie would never accept him now, now that she knew the truth about what he was, what he could do.

Micah pulled Joie away from the circle and toward the truck. She struggled, trying to get back to Malcolm, watching in horror as he dragged himself to his feet. He wobbled and fell, striking his jaw on the ground before getting shakily back up.

“Malcolm!” she called out to him, frantic for some sign from him. He turned his head to look at her, his face covered in blood, his beautiful eyes dulled with pain. Without a sound the massive wolf limped out of the circle and into the wooded area behind the compound.

“Joie, listen to me.” Micah set her on her feet but kept his hands on her shoulders. “Let him go.”

“No! You don’t understand. I love him. I need him with me. Please, please don’t let him be alone.” Joie held onto his arm, her eyes brimming over with the tears she’d held back until now. “Please.”

Micah stared at her for a long moment then sighed. “He won’t thank you for this.”

“I don’t care. Please, please let me help him.”

He nodded then pulled his jeans and boots on. Joie followed as he led the way into the woods. He stopped from time to time, scenting the air around them. She didn’t know where they were going but she trusted him to guide her. Micah moved swiftly and she was amazed that they’d gone as far into the woods as they had.

He stopped suddenly and she ran full tilt into his back. Micah put one hand back to steady her then took a step to the side. She peered around him then saw the gray form lying lifeless just to the side of the path.

“Malcolm, no!” Joie cried out as she got close enough to see him. Once again, she was faced with an unconscious badly injured wolf. She looked up at the man who had led her here.

“Help him. Help us.” Tears streamed down her face as her hand clutched the bloodied, matted fur.

Micah gently scooped Malcolm up into his arms then nodded for Joie to lead the way back to his truck. She did, but not without turning every few steps to make sure he followed. Malcolm hung totally limp in Micah’s arms, not even groaning.

They reached the truck and Micah stopped at the back. “Open the tailgate.”

Joie hurried to do as he’d asked then at his instruction, pulled a wool blanket out of the toolbox welded to the back of the cab. She spread the blanket out and Micah lay Malcolm down on it.

Joie got into the truck, trying to decide where to start. Micah jumped in beside her then put his hands over Malcolm’s body.

“Don’t touch him. Let me try this.” Micah spoke softly, his eyes focused on Malcolm. Joie watched him carefully. Where Malcolm’s eyes glowed from time to time, Micah’s entire body seemed to glow as he held his hands palm down over Malcolm. His skin took on a golden hue as he chanted softly in a language she couldn’t understand.

Malcolm’s body shimmered and Joie moved out of the way as his human form took hold. Micah held his position until Malcolm was well and truly human then he slumped slightly.

“He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Thank you, Micah.” Joie touched Malcolm’s bruised and battered face then lifted her gaze to Micah’s. “Why haven’t these injuries healed like his others did? The last time he fought Maggie his wounds were almost completely gone after he changed from wolf to human a couple of times.”

“The short answer to your question is that in a challenge, the rules change for us. When it is a formal challenge the injuries remain until you’re defeated or you win. Because he accepted defeat, because he submitted, his injuries will take longer to heal. I know a place we can take him, a doctor who knows about our kind.”

“No. I want to take him home.
Tante
and I will take care of him.”

“He won’t thank you for this, Joie.”

“You said that before. Why? Why wouldn’t he be grateful?”

“You witnessed his defeat, his loss of honor. For a man like Slade, that’s worse than anything else in his life.”

“I don’t care. He hasn’t lost anything in my eyes. He’s still the man I love, the father of my child. He’s alive and I want to take him home. Will you help me?” Joie raised her chin, meeting Micah’s eyes without blinking.

“I’ll fulfill my promise, I’ll take you home.” He jumped lightly out of the truck, slammed the tailgate then looked at her. “Stay low. The last thing I need is a ticket or something worse for letting you ride in the back with a bloody naked man. I don’t think either one of us wants to try to explain this to the human authorities.”

Micah got into the cab. As he started the engine, Joie lay down beside Malcolm, pulling the edge of the blanket over him to protect him as best she could. She hugged him carefully, trying not to jar him in any way as they headed for home.

* * * * *

When Micah slowed for the turn into her driveway, Joie sat up. She’d realized they were getting close to home when she started to recognize familiar landmarks. The door to the cabin opened and
Tante
Kay stood there, the twelve-gauge shotgun cradled in her arms. When she saw Joie in the back of the truck, she let out a loud whoop and set the gun down.

Micah pulled to a stop then got out of the truck. He lowered the tailgate, helped Joie out then grabbed the edge of the blanket to pull Malcolm’s body toward him.

Kay reached them then and ran her hand over Joie’s face, murmuring softly as tears flowed over her cheeks.

“I’m okay,
Tante
, I’m fine.” Joie felt her own tears flowing again as she hugged her godmother. “I’m sorry to have worried you. I’m okay.”

Kay cupped Joie’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead then looked past her to the back of the truck. “Oh,
mon Dieu
! Bring the boy inside, he’s hurt bad.”

She moved as quickly as she was able toward the porch. Joie turned back to Micah. She reached out to help and Micah shook his head.

“Just lead the way. I’ll get him.” Micah pulled Malcolm out of the truck, propping him against the side then bent forward and draped Malcolm over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Joie couldn’t believe his strength, she knew how heavy Malcolm’s dead weight was.

She raced toward the house and into her room. She yanked the quilt off the bed then pulled the top sheet down. Micah appeared in the doorway then stood looking at the white sheets on her bed.

Blood still dripped from Malcolm’s various injuries onto the floor. “Are you sure you want him in there?”

“Yes, please.” Joie waved him into the room and Micah sighed as he placed Malcolm on the bed.

“What do you want me to do?” Micah stood beside the bed, blood staining his shirt and jeans, his hair loosened from moving Malcolm around.

“You forced a change on him, can you do it again?”

“No. I don’t dare. He’s too weak.” Micah shook his head as he stared down at Malcolm. Absently he pulled the leather tie out of his hair then pulled it back into a ponytail.

Tante
Kay came into the room, bringing bandages, sutures and her satchel. Joie smiled gratefully at her then the two women started to work. Micah stood back out of their way, moving in only when one of them needed an extra hand or they needed Malcolm moved.

The women worked in near silence, their actions so similar they were almost a mirror image of one another. Joie smiled slightly as that thought crossed her mind. She placed a poultice on Malcolm’s thigh over the stitches she’d placed there. Fourteen stitches, to be exact. He would have another scar.

Joie brushed a gentle hand through his hair then leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “You’re safe now, Malcolm. Safe and home, where you belong.”

Tante
went into the kitchen, muttering something about food and coffee. Joie looked over her shoulder to see Micah leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Thank you for helping me, Micah.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled slightly.

“Now that the Pack has a new Alpha, will they come after Malcolm again?”

“No. He’s dead to the Pack now.” Micah slowly shook his head, his eyes focused on Malcolm.