Wild (32 page)

When Elle nodded, Evan took off at a slow jog along a narrow trail. They headed due north to the place where Trak lay wounded.

*   *   *

Cain had shifted to his human form to do what he could to stop the bleeding. The bullet was somewhere inside Trak's chest, most likely one of his lungs. There was bloody froth at his nostrils, his breathing was labored, and he'd started shivering. Cain knew Tuck had gone into town, but he didn't know how much longer Trak could hang on without medical care.

Bastards. He'd spotted the hunters gutting a doe they'd shot, and he and Trak had tried to get closer for a better look. They'd gone in as wolves, but they hadn't counted on a lookout who was quite willing to shoot wolves on a preserve. The guy got off one shot, but it was enough. At least he was far enough away that Cain had been able to hide Trak in heavy undergrowth.

Manny had stayed hidden until the men gave up searching for the wolf and went back to their deer carcass, but then he'd found Cain and Trak and stayed long enough to assess Trak's condition.

It wasn't good. They'd been out here in the brush with Trak bleeding for at least a couple of hours. He'd been conscious at first, but obviously in considerable pain. Now his breathing was shallow, his eyes closed, and Cain was terrified.

He knew he wasn't alone. There were at least a couple of wild wolves nearby, keeping watch. It helped, knowing they worried about Trak as much as he did. It was a strange sort of relationship between the werewolf pack and their wild brothers. They didn't compete, didn't really interact, but there was definitely a sense of community among them.

When he'd left Trak in search of something for a compress to put pressure on the wound, the wolves had stood watch. He'd found as much damp moss as he could scavenge off nearby rocks and trees and used that to keep pressure on the wound. Once he had things under control, the wild wolves faded into the forest, but he sensed they were still close.

Holding the compress in place, he sat beside Trak and stroked his thick coat. The man had hated him since the very beginning. Cain was never quite sure why—he'd tried to be a good pack member, but no matter what he did, Trak found fault. He'd often wondered if it had anything to do with his basic nature. He'd been born an alpha, a very strong alpha in a pack ruled by one even stronger than Cain.

He'd learned that the hard way, challenging the man when he was still too young and too stupid to know how to run a pack if he'd actually won the fight. Instead, he'd had his ass handed to him on a platter, and then he'd been exiled. That was actually a good thing—most alphas would have killed the usurper. Trak was still trying to build his pack and had been the only one willing to take him in. Cain would always owe him a debt of gratitude for that, though there were times he resented his own strong sense of obligation.

That was another part of his nature he couldn't control.

He really didn't want Trak to die, though he'd sensed Manny's misgivings at leaving him here to guard their alpha. Everyone knew that Cain and Trak had issues, but Cain was the better fighter, Manny the faster runner. It was the logical choice that Cain be the one to stay.

But the truth was, Cain admired Trak. Wished he could be more like him.

Maybe he needed to tell him that sometime. Before it was too late. He studied the wounded wolf, knew he was slipping away even as Cain sat there with Trak's lifeblood seeping around his fingers, feeling so damned useless. He wanted to make that poacher pay. Even more, he needed Trak to know how he felt.

Sighing, Cain buried his fingers in his alpha's thick fur, but he spoke from his heart—the one Trak didn't think he had. “You're a strong bastard, Traker. Don't give up. You've got to come through this. The pack needs you. Whether you know it or not, I need you. You're the alpha I will never be, a man I've always admired. You're not a hothead like I am. You don't get pissy.” He smiled at that, because … “Well, not too much, but damn it, you're important to this pack, so you've got to keep fighting. If you're not here, who's going to ride my ass over every little thing?”

The wolf whined and shivered. He was going into shock, and the ground was cold beneath the trees. “Well, fuck.” Cain shifted. His wolf was warmer than his human, and once the shift was complete, he wrapped himself around Trak with his chin holding the compress against the wound. He would do whatever it took to keep his alpha warm—and alive.

*   *   *

Elle was glad she'd dressed comfortably to go into town with Tuck today, wearing a short-sleeved top, jeans, and her hiking boots, because she and Evan covered the two miles of rough trail to a thick copse of trees at the edge of the property in less than twenty minutes. Tuck was human again, naked as he worked over the injured wolf. He looked up with relief when Elle and Evan arrived.

“Elle? Have you ever worked with bullet wounds? Removed a bullet from a patient?”

“No, but I can try. Let me take a look.” She nodded, acknowledging the big silver wolf with forest-green eyes—Cain—guarding his alpha, and then knelt beside Trak's wolf. There was a bloody pad of gauze pressed against the entrance wound, more blood-soaked moss on the ground beside Trak. She moved the pad aside and held her hands to the injury until she sensed the bullet in Trak's lung. Tracing the trajectory of the bullet meant following a trail that felt wrong. The trick would be pulling it out without causing more damage while keeping his lungs working. Her gift snapped fully into place as she slipped into the strange fugue state that allowed her to heal. The soft whispers of Trak's worried pack faded into the background.

*   *   *

“What's she doing?” Manny's question probably echoed all their thoughts. Cain knew he was damned curious, but Tuck seemed to trust her.

“I wish I knew,” Tuck said, “but I saw her heal a fawn's cracked leg with the touch of her hands. She said it's a gift, that her grandmother could do it, too. Quiet, now. We don't want to pull her out of whatever she's doing.”

About twenty minutes after Elle began her healing, Tuck remembered food. “She's going to need to eat when she finishes. She's burning a lot of energy, and she'll come out of this totally depleted. Can one of you guys get a sandwich or something and bring it out here?”

Cain stood, raised a paw, and scraped Tuck's knee. “Good. Go, Cain. Whatever you can find for her.”

The wolf spun away from the group and was gone.

“When Trak is all healed up,” Manny said, smiling for the first time in hours, “someone had better tell him how hard that man's worked to keep him alive.”

*   *   *

Dar, Jules, and Cherry hung out by the pool. The place had been unusually quiet today. Drew was bartending at Growl, and Cherry's mate Brad was in the kitchen working on dinner. Lawz had driven over to Eureka on business. Dar didn't expect him back until tonight. As far as she knew, Elle was still in town with Tuck, and Meg was with Zach, though she'd expected to have heard something by now.

She said as much, but Cherry suddenly raised her head. “What's going on?”

They all turned just as a huge silver-and-gray wolf raced up the front steps to the lodge and shoved the door open with his shoulder.

“Something's wrong.” Cherry was up in a flash and running across the grass to the lodge. The others followed. They raced into the lodge just as the wolf rippled and shimmered and Cain quickly rose to his feet, naked and obviously distraught.

He glanced over his shoulder, said, “Sorry, ladies,” and turned to Brad. “I need food now. A sandwich, something with protein to take back for Elle. Trak's been shot. Tuck was working on him, but Elle's there now doing some kind of mojo to heal him. She needs to eat as soon as she's done. She's burning a lot of energy.”

“Gotcha.” Brad reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a couple of big sandwiches left over from lunch. Cherry went to the pantry for a bag of cookies and a couple of sports drinks. Between the two of them, they had a meal ready to go in about a minute. Brad stuck everything in a bag with a harness while Cain shifted. Cherry strapped it on him.

Brad touched his shoulder. “Be careful, Cain. You know we love you.”

The wolf nodded, a very human response.

Jules walked across the room and held the door open. Cain turned away from Brad and Cherry, raced past Jules, and disappeared into the forest.

 

CHAPTER 11

Dar shoved her fingers through her hair. “Crap. I have no idea what's going on, though it must be serious because they're not even trying to hide what they are. I just realized that if Elle's healing Trak, Meg's alone at the hospital with Zach.”

“I would go, but I don't want to be gone that long,” Cherry said. “Cain will need me when this is over. He looked really upset.”

“I'll go. Is there a vehicle I can borrow?” Dar said. “Meg shouldn't be alone.”

“I can take you in, but I'll need to come back,” Cherry said. “Call when you want someone to pick you up. Meg might be ready to return and get some rest at some point.”

“Give me ten minutes.” Dar took off to change clothes. She was back in five, and Cherry was standing on the deck at the lodge waiting. Brad walked out with a covered basket and handed it to Dar. “Brownies. I made a batch to restock the freezer. Take these for the staff.” He winked. “They're terrific people. They deserve every cookie we can send.”

Dar took the basket and glanced at Cherry. “He's good,” she said, teasing.

“The very best.” Cherry grabbed Brad's arm and hugged him close.

Obviously, she was dead serious. He kissed her, and she turned him loose. “C'mon. It'll take us at least twenty minutes to get there.”

*   *   *

Meg lost track of time. She'd been with Zach for hours, but wasn't certain what time it was. She didn't wear a watch and hadn't brought her cell phone, but there'd been a shift change and a new nurse was on duty. Zach was restless; he'd awakened briefly a couple of times, though he hadn't said anything she could understand. Dr. Mabry continued telling her not to worry, that concussions were weird and they were monitoring him carefully.

She wished she knew why Zach was here in Weaverville at all, even though she'd missed him horribly and had wanted to invite him. He'd come on his own. But why? She ran her fingers through his hair, touched the sharp jut of his collarbone, rested her palm against his heart. It beat steadily, so strong and warm, and it was killing her to sit beside him when she wanted to crawl into bed next to him and hug him so hard. Hug him until he couldn't ever get free, even if he wanted to.

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn't awaken. She thought about kissing him, but she was afraid. If he didn't love her anymore, that wouldn't be right, kissing him when he couldn't tell her to leave him alone. She took hold of his hand, the one that had been resting on his chest. Two of his fingers were taped together. The doctor said those were the only broken bones he had. Probably from the air bag, she'd said. His car was trashed.

He could so easily have died. Meg blinked back tears. She'd been doing that a lot today. “Oh, Zach.” She sniffed. “Please wake up. I love you so much, and I hate to see you hurting.”

“Meggie?”

“Zach!” She leaned close, still carefully holding his broken hand. His eyes were closed, but they were so bruised and swollen and … “Are you okay? You've been out for so long.”

“Where? Thirsty.”

“Let me call the doctor. I don't know if I can give you anything.”

But someone must have been watching the monitor, because two new nurses and Dr. Mabry were coming into the room, and she had to let go of his hand and move out of their way.

“Meg?”

She turned, and Dar stood in the doorway, and that was all it took. Sobbing, she fell into Dar's arms while the doctor and nurses checked on Zach.

*   *   *

Racing through the woods toward Tuck and Elle, Cain was relieved to see Manny and Evan carrying the stretcher with Trak in his human form carefully strapped in. He didn't stop to see if his alpha was conscious or not—the fact he'd been able to shift and the smiles on the guys' faces told him all he needed to know.

They waved him on, and he reached Elle and Tuck a couple of minutes later. Tuck unfastened the harness and grabbed a sandwich and a sports drink for Elle. She looked totally wasted, her normally sleek, dark skin a sickly gray. Since she obviously knew they were werewolves, he went ahead and shifted. Tuck tossed him a pair of sweatpants.

“Hide the jewels, big guy. Evan threw in an extra pair of pants for you.”

“Thanks.” He pulled the sweats on and slipped his feet into the moccasins Tuck handed him. “You okay, Elle?”

She nodded and kept chewing, but she gestured toward Tuck. “Yes, dear.” He patted her leg and glanced at Cain. “And if I sound a bit pussy whipped, guilty as charged. But what an amazing pu—”

“Kentucky Jones!” Slapping her hand over his mouth, she swallowed and then laughed. “I just wanted you to tell the man how Trak's doing so I can recharge the machine. No reviews and no editorializing.” She took another bite.

Grinning like a fool, Tuck sat back with an arm around her waist. “You're no fun, Elle. Cain, Trak's doing great. You keeping pressure on the wound probably saved him. Using moss was an excellent idea—sphagnum moss, the stuff you grabbed—has been used as a surgical dressing for eons, so it was a good call. Elle got the bullet out without further damage, as far as we can tell, and she stopped the bleeding, but he's lost a lot of blood, and he'll be weaker for a few days while he rebuilds the supply.”

“Good.” He sighed. “I'm glad to hear that. I was so damned scared out here, and I wasn't sure if the moss was a good thing, but it was all I could think of. I'm glad I didn't kill the bastard.”