Strength of the Pack (33 page)

Beneath his hands, Noah’s heart slowed slightly, his breathing in time with Lucas’. Noah’s eyes were fever-bright, his skin covered in sweat. Lucas ran his hands over Noah’s hair, keeping up the soothing physical contact.

The pain in Lucas’ leg was excruciating. He struggled to block it out, keeping his attention focused on Noah. Sweat broke out on his own skin, and his heart slammed violently against his ribs.

“Shit,” Doc swore savagely. “Lieutenant, are you bleeding off the Sergeant’s pain?”

“Yes,” Lucas answered carefully, not wanting to disrupt the delicate balance he’d established with Noah. “It’s the only way I can think of to keep him from shifting.”

“Christ. That explains why his vitals are spiking.” Doc moved around behind Lucas. “You guys have created a feedback loop.”

“We what?” Lucas said.

Doc knelt beside Lucas. “The same way you take away his pain, Sergeant Hammond can sense your distress from also being in pain. You guys are passing pain and worry back and forth.”

“So what do I do?” Lucas asked, anxiety spiking, even knowing that reaction made things worse.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, sir,” Brennan answered calmly.

Lucas was confused when the waist of his utilities was pulled down over his left hip.

“You’re gonna feel a pinch, sir,” Doc said. “Just hold still and breathe through it.”

There was a jab and a sharp sting in the back of Noah’s left hip. Warmth quickly spread through the area. “What the fuck?”

“Just a little pain medication, Lieutenant,” Doc answered. “Can’t give it to the Sergeant until he’s stable, so if the two of you are gonna share the physical pain, I can manage it in you, and he’ll get the benefit as well.”

The warmth in Lucas’ hip spread through the rest of his body. The pain in his left side receded, and it was easier to breathe. As Lucas’ body relaxed in relief, beneath his hands Noah did the same. Noah’s fist in Lucas’ fleece loosened. A mild buzz started at the base of Lucas’ skull.

“Did he fix my leg? Can I shift yet?” Noah asked, his eyes a little more clear.

“Not yet,” Lucas replied, suddenly very tired. “You get to take a helicopter ride to a hospital ship.” The buzz in his head was louder now, and it was like he was floating.

Noah shifted in agitation. “I can’t. My wolves.”

Lucas looked up at the small cluster of werewolves who knelt nearby, anxiety coloring their features. “Corporal Hubbard. You’re pack leader now.”

“Me, sir?” Hubbard looked stunned.

Lucas met his eyes steadily, communicating his confidence in the corporal to meet the challenge. “Name another werewolf whose ass you can’t kick once Sergeant Hammond is gone.”

Hubbard’s expression settled into determined lines. “Understood, Lieutenant.”

The low thumping of the helicopter rotors sounded in the distance.

“Sounds like your ride outta here is coming, Lieutenant,” Doc Brennan said.

“My ride?” Lucas looked up, his head heavy on his neck.

“There’s no way in hell the Sergeant can go anywhere without you,” Doc replied.

“Where the True Alpha goes, the Dominant goes, sir,” Hubbard added. “You can’t be separated.”

“Shit.” Lucas’ mind raced over everything he needed to say and do in just a matter of minutes.

“Lieutenant Young.” Gunny appeared, climbing up the far side of the ridge. “The village is secure, and Captain Madison knows you and Sergeant Hammond are being cas-evaced.”

If anyone would understand Lucas needing to accompany Noah, it would be Tim.

The sound of the chopper grew louder. Lucas was vaguely aware of Marines scrambling around him. It was like he was underwater, everything was slow and muffled. Focusing on Noah, touching him, Lucas spoke in a low voice. “Looks like we both get a free ride in a helicopter. I hear the service on this flight is pretty good, too.”

Two Navy corpsman in flight suits knelt beside them as HM3 Brennan gave the sitrep. He rattled off Noah’s injuries, included his status as a werewolf and told them they were taking Lucas along for the ride. “The lieutenant is mitigating the sergeant’s pain, so he’s got a full ampoule of morphine on board. It’s made them both pretty docile, which is good when dealing with these two.”

There was a long pause before one of the corpsmen asked, “Is this the True Alpha and Dominant we’ve been hearing about?”

“Affirmative,” Doc answered, sounding more than a little proud.

“Shit,” the corpsman said. “So it’s not just a legend.”

Doc didn’t look up as he continued to prep Noah for transport, but his answer was emphatic. “Nope, I’ve seen them in action. Can’t explain it, but they’re effective. You’ll get to see it in action once they’re on your bird.”

“We’ll radio ahead so everyone knows they can’t be separated,” the corpsman said.

A litter appeared beside them. “They’re going to move us,” Lucas said to Noah. “Just focus on me.”

The three corpsmen strapped Noah onto the litter smoothly. Lucas stood, surprised at how unsteady he was. His head swam, and he took a stumbling step. One of the corpsmen steadied Lucas with a hand on his arm. He let himself be led to the chopper but made sure he stayed at the head of the litter. Lucas slid a hand under Noah’s fleece to keep skin to skin contact. He climbed clumsily into the cargo area first and the crew slid the litter toward him so he could sit at Noah’s head.

Lucas’ stomach dropped as the bird lifted off, his drug-induced vertigo intensifying. The corpsman checked Noah’s vitals again.

“You’re nice and stable, Sergeant,” he declared. “How’s the pain for the two of you?”

“Tolerable,” Noah answered in a rough voice.

Lucas nodded his agreement.

“Let me know if it gets worse,” said the corpsman. “It’ll most likely get worse for you first, Lieutenant. You let me know when that starts to happen, sir.”

Lucas was warm, and his vision was fuzzy around the edges. He knew it was the morphine. The pain was still there, but it was a distant sensation. Lucas almost didn’t care about it at all.

Noah’s eyes were clear and calm. He looked up at Lucas trustingly as he answered questions put to him by the corpsmen. Lucas avoided looking at Noah’s bloodied left side. He was bandaged and splinted, and Lucas didn’t want to dwell on the extent of the damage. He focused on keeping Noah calm and comfortable.

The jolting of the chopper when it set down at the mobile hospital jarred Lucas out of his thoughts. The crew scrambled about, getting Noah ready to be offloaded. Lucas moved into a crouch, prepared to follow, keeping as much physical contact with Noah as possible.

“Sergeant Hammond, Lieutenant Young, welcome to our humble little hospital,” greeted a Navy doctor as he examined Noah. “I’m Doctor Sherman. It’s an honor to meet you both; I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

The helicopter crew gave Doctor Sherman their report as they handed off Noah’s care to the hospital staff. Lucas knew through Noah’s perception that the Navy doctor was a shifter. As additional personnel swarmed them, Noah identified them all as werewolves.

They wheeled Noah into a triage room. Lucas walked beside the gurney, keeping a hand on Noah’s shoulder the entire time. His balance was almost normal, now that his morphine high was fading.

Lucas found himself in a much more complete facility than he’d anticipated. The equipment that filled the room was state of the art, and he recognized almost none of it. It was so fucking surreal.

“Lieutenant, we’re gonna need you to step back while we examine and prep him for transport,” said Sherman.

Lucas tensed, ready to protest vehemently.

“I’m fine, Lucas,” Noah said quietly. “Just don’t leave the room.”

Lucas realized all the anxiety was his and not Noah’s. Taking a deep breath, he slowly removed his hand from Noah’s shoulder. “You’re not going to shift, are you?”

“Not now.” Noah’s voice was rough but strong. “The pain is bearable now.”

Lucas stepped into the corner of the room and crossed his arms over his chest. He watched the medical personnel remove Noah’s dressings and examine his wounds. They used some strange hand-held device to help assess the wound in his side but manually probed the hip and thigh. Another hand-held gadget made an appearance, and a nurse pressed a wand to Noah’s foot. Lucas overheard the nurse say the blood flow in Noah’s foot was good.

“How’s your pain, Lieutenant?” Doctor Sherman called across the room. “Scale of one to ten?”

Lucas started out of his own thoughts but managed to reply, “Five and growing.”

“Tell me when it hits seven,” the doctor said firmly.

Several minutes later, a technician wheeled a portable X-ray machine into the room. Lucas knew they were going to try to make him leave. He’d demand one of those lead aprons so he could stay.

“You need to step out, Lucas,” Noah called.

Lucas shouldn’t be surprised Noah knew what he was thinking.

A nurse approached Lucas, something cupped in her hand. Reflexively, he held out his own hand, and she poured Noah’s dog tags and chain into his palm. “I thought you might want to hang on to these for him,” she said quietly. Gesturing toward the door, the nurse encouraged Lucas to follow her from the room. “We just need you to step into the hall for a few moments. It’s for your own safety, sir.”

“I’ll be fine, Lucas.” Noah pushed reassurance through their link. He wanted Lucas safe.

Standing outside the room, Lucas focused on Noah, ready to calm or reassure him. When Noah’s damaged leg was manipulated for the X-rays, sharp, nauseating pain spiked through Lucas. The room spun, making him lightheaded. He leaned against the wall and struggled for breath.

“Lieutenant,” Doctor Sherman was standing in front of him, looking concerned, “you’re pale and sweating. What’s the pain level now?”

“Eight or nine,” Lucas gasped, bracing his hands on his knees.

There was movement around him. Hands steadied him, and his pants were lowered on his right hip. He didn’t even feel the sharp jab this time. To Lucas’ relief, it was only minutes later when warmth spread through him, and the pain eased measurably.

“You can go back in now,” Sherman said when Lucas could stand again.

Noah lay calmly as a second doctor dressed his wounds again. Lucas stepped to the side of the gurney and wrapped his fingers around Noah’s hand, pressing the dog tags into his palm.

Noah squeezed Lucas’ fingers in return. “Would you hang on to those for me?” he asked softly.

“Of course,” Lucas replied, just above a whisper.

Another nurse appeared beside Lucas with a large, open bottle of water. He nearly protested, insisting that he was fine, but he was no good to Noah if he ended up sick or dehydrated, so Lucas took the water with quiet thanks.

Doctor Sherman entered carrying Noah’s X-rays. “Your ride is here, gentlemen. They’ll put your leg back together enough, Sergeant, that you can shift and start to heal normally. If you were human, you’d be spending the rest of your life with a leg full of metal pins and rods.”

Lucas barely had time to thank the medical staff before he and Noah were bundled into the chopper with several other patients.

The crew of the medical helicopter did what they could to help Lucas get comfortable. With enough cushion around him that he wasn’t sitting on the hard floor of the bird and with one hand on Noah’s shoulder, Lucas managed to doze.

He was unsure how long he slept, but sharp, shooting pains in his left side woke him abruptly. Lucas struggled to stay calm, to keep anything from leaking through to the soundly sleeping Noah. He signaled for one of the flight medics.

“The pain is back,” he gasped. “Eight, creeping up to nine.”

The medic reached into his gear. Lucas shifted so his left hip could be exposed. He ignored the minor sting and waited for the blessed warmth and fuzziness that would herald the cessation of pain.

By the time they set down on the naval hospital ship, Lucas was floating pleasantly. They were bustled out of the chopper, and Noah was gingerly transferred from the litter to a gurney. As soon as they passed through the first hatch into the corridors of the ship, Lucas was assailed by familiar sights, sounds and smells. The passageways were narrow and low-ceilinged. A metallic scent infused the air and lingered, no matter what other smells might mingle with it. Lucas heard and felt the incessant hum of the massive diesel engines. It wasn’t quite as noticeable on the upper decks but grew louder and stronger the farther aft and lower down you climbed.

Noah was wheeled into a room containing two large hospital beds. It was only slightly larger than an officer’s cabin on a naval ship but seemed smaller with all of the medical equipment packed efficiently into it.

“That’s your bed, Lieutenant.” A female nurse, wearing a name patch that read Chavez, indicated the second bed in the room as they moved Noah off the gurney and onto the first bed. “We know you left your gear behind, sir. We’ll try to scrounge up a change of clothes for you.”