Winter's Scars: The Forsaken (Winter's Saga 5) (8 page)

“When you get him out of the tub, Sloan and I will look at him and see what we can do,” Evan offered.

“Are you vets?”  Meg asked.

“No, but Sloan is a medical doctor and I’m sort
of a medical genius—self-taught.  Together, we’ll figure out what your Maze needs to get well.”

Meg looked pointedly at the tall boy in the doorway and asked, “How old are you?”

“I’ll be fourteen at the end of October,” Evan answered patiently.

“Sorry,” she shrugged.  “There’s just so much I don’t know.”

“It’s going to take time, but Meg, you are my sister and I will take all the time you need and answer any question you have so don’t worry about asking, okay?”

“Okay.”  Meg sighed deeply, looking as if a wave of exhaustion was crashing over her.

Thirty minutes later, Creed and Meg had Maze out of the tub, towel-dried and laying on a pile of blankets. 

“Meg, why don’t you go clean up while Evan and Sloan work on Maze?”  Creed suggested.

“You look in need of a good cleaning yourself,” Meg nodded to the blood stains on his shirt with a tentative half-smile.  “I’d rather stay with Maze while they work on him.  You go first, okay?”

Creed pursed his lips together and nodded once before turning to walk away.  He had some thinking to do and he always did do some of this best thinking in the shower.  On his way, he grabbed a clean change of clothes and a fresh towel.

Maybe I just need to give her some space,
he thought sadly.
  Maybe the new Meg wants something other than to be tied down to a block-headed soldier raised to be a killing machine.
  He grimaced at the thoughts spinning in his head, but forced himself to move with purpose. 
Suck it up, soldier.  You always knew you weren’t good enough for her.  Leave her alone and maybe, just maybe, you can win her back.
  He moved with fluid grace through the motions of cleaning up, but his thoughts never left the dark-eyed angel, as miserable as it made him feel.

On the other side of the house Meg sat barefoot beside Maze.  She still w
ore the torn black dress she’d been in when she woke after the helo crash.  Her tired eyes watched Evan and Sloan as they inspected his wounds.  Instinctively, she kept a slow, methodical rub going between his alert ears, careful to avoid his muzzle as it was covered with painful-looking gashes.  Even her untrained eyes could see it was swollen and if she sat still enough and watched, she could see it throbbing in time with the beat of the coydog’s heart.

The more she touched him though, the more at peace he seemed and truth be told, Meg just felt more content when she was near the sad creature.  He really was important to her.  Meg could feel it even through the fog of her blackened memories.  Maze mattered.

“I could use stitches, but butterfly bandages would work even better if we could get him not to bite or lick them away,” Sloan sighed.  “But my real concern is hydration and infection.  That, and I noticed how tender he is in his belly.  This canine needs a vet, Evan.  We don’t have the proper facility, training or meds to treat him ourselves.”

As much as
Sloan’s words worried Meg, she found herself appreciating the girl more and more for her professionalism.  She seemed to work on a level of logic and intellect—the polar opposite of Meg’s own sense of emotion that ruled every minute of her life.

As it was, she had to force herself to stay away from Creed.  The magnetism she felt for him was so real it was as though she could reach out and touch it.  Was it warranted?  Should she feel such a connection to that hulking soldier with watchful blue eyes?  Nothing felt assured or completely safe around these strangers.  Nothing except the
coydog made sense to her. 

“What can I do to help?” she asked.  Her eyes never left the coydog’s soft, silver fur.

“You’re doing it,” Evan said calmly.  “His pulse rate seems directly related to your touch.  Just don’t stop.”

“I won’t.”

“Let me make a few phone calls.  I need to find an excellent vet who won’t be shy about working with a domesticated hybrid.”

Maze’s whole body shu
ddered before his eyes slowly closed.  “Whatever you do, just hurry,” Meg quietly pleaded of them both.

Fifteen minutes later, Meg had taken a
hasty shower and dressed in the clothes Farrow brought for her to wear.  Her hair was still dripping wet, so she draped a towel over her shoulders as she tried to run a wide-toothed comb through it.  She got the top layer combed out first.  Thanks to the half bottle of conditioner she’d used, she managed to run a comb through the rest of it without too much trouble.  Uncoiled, the dark locks hung to her bottom, but the moment the comb let go, it cork-screwed to her midback. 

Giving up on towel drying it, Meg just worked on adjusting the too big jeans and top.  She made do by tucking in the shirt and wearing a belt.   Her feet were hurting from the abuse they suffered on the side of the mountain, but a thick pair of Alik’s socks and a size too large borrowed running shoes from Margo’s
suit case helped her walk more comfortably. 

“Wouldn’t it be great if Margo needed her shoes
back?” Meg made small talk as they drove to the vet with Maze half draped in her lap.

“Yeah, wow.  I’m anxious to examine her myself.  Her progress seems truly miraculous.  But, um…Meg, you may try to get used to calling her ‘Mom.’  I think it would freak her out if you called her ‘Margo’,” Evan suggested gently.

Meg shrugged, but nodded her acceptance for the advice.  She may not remember her as ‘Mom,’ but evidently, the lady had earned the title.

The children decided it would be best to split up to accomplish their tasks.  Creed, Alik, Farrow and Sloan had already headed to the hospital to see Margo, Theo and Danny. 

Meg, Cole and Evan were on their way to a local vet who seemed more curious than concerned about working with an injured hybrid like Maze.

Cole
drove carefully so as not to hit any more bumps or potholes than necessary.  Maze was looking worse by the minute.  They couldn’t get him to eat or drink anything.  He wouldn’t even lick the piece of bacon Evan cooked for him. 

“We’re here,” he said pulling the SUV into a driveway.  When they did, two technicians met them with a dog-sized stretcher.  Carefully, Cole lifted the coydog
from the back seat and placed him on the sterile, rubber sheet. 

Inside, Cole handled the paperwork, Evan paid the initial fees and Meg stayed at her
coydog’s side, stroking his fur sometimes but mostly laying her small hand on his shoulder and rubbing gently. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” The vet stood with his white coat wrapped around his ample belly.  He reminded Evan of Paulie, bringing back a flood of memories of all the times he’d see th
e brilliant scientist walking barelegged through the house in his lab coat, surfing trunks underneath and flip-flops smacking his wide feet as he went.

“It’s a long story, sir,” Evan managed.

“But what we can tell you is he was trying to dig his way out of a—room,” Cole offered helpfully.

“What was the floor made
of—nails?” The sharp old veterinarian mumbled as he peered into Maze’s eyes with a light then moved to his mouth and pulled back his lips to see his gums.  “Damn, I was worried about that,” he said motioning to Maze’s mouth.

“What?” Meg’s eyes flashed as she read his concerned emotion.

“Well, I’ll need to do a sonogram to be sure, but he has all the signs of internal trauma.  His gums are pale and his stomach distended.  What really happened to him?  And don’t tell me the floor fought back.”

“No, sir.  We think the guy who trapped him also abused him.  This just confirms it.”
  Evan waved a frustrated hand at the coydog.

“Are you pressing charges?” The vet asked, gently palpitating Maze’s abdomen, but stopping when the
coydog let out a painful yelp then growled low and steady. 

“We are going to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone or anything again.  Yes, sir.”  Evan stared at the
coydog with revenge in his sharp, honey eyes.

“Well, professionally I must advise you to get the authorities involved in what is obviously an animal abuse case.  But off the record—” the vet narrowed his eyes at the young people standing in his office.  “Well, you have my blessing.  This is one very sick animal.”

“Are you referring to Maze, sir?  Or the man who did this to him?”  Evan watched the vet’s eyes for the truth behind his words.

“Both,” he answered gruffly. 

“Yes, sir.” Evan nodded.

“Let’s get to work, Hilda,” he said to his technician.  “I’ll need you to wait out in the lobby
, or leave us a good phone number and we’ll call you once we find out what we’re dealing with.”

“I don’t want to leave him,” Meg said immediately.

“Just my opinion here, miss, but you look like you need to rest and eat.  I don’t know what happened to you but my medical advice would be to go home.”  He reached out and put a grandfatherly hand on Meg’s slender shoulder.  To his credit, he didn’t flinch at the rock-hard muscles she had developed over her lifetime of training. 

“You’ll be no good to your coydog if you’re too sick to take care of him once he is well enough to come home.”  The vet’s tone was sincere, but his optimism about Maze getting better wasn’t.   Meg struggled to decide.

“Let’s go check on Mom at the hospital, grab a bite to eat and come right back,” Cole suggested diplomatically.

Meg looked at Cole’s earnest
, green eyes and decided he was right.  She nodded once then stood and walked to Maze’s face. Carefully she leaned her forehead against his and thought positive, prayerful thoughts over him.  She felt warmth deep inside her belly that burst up and climbed inside her chest, pinking her cheeks.  It spilled past the physical skin-to-fur contact she was making with the broken coydog.  Under her, Maze sighed and seemed to sink deeper into the bed’s vinyl cushion, as though relaxing all his muscles.

I’ll be back for you,
she thought directly into Maze’s body. 
Your only job is to get better.  You’re mine and I need you.
  She stepped back, breaking the connection, and watched Maze’s yellow eyes watching her.  They looked alert, as though he completely understood her wishes.

“Okay, I’m ready to go.”  Meg pushed her shoulders back and walked confidently out of the examination room.  The others watched her, not sure what to make of her unpredictable behavior.  Evan whispered his goodbyes to the
coydog, patting him carefully before following his sister out of the room.  Cole was right on his heels, and caught Evan by the shoulder.

“Is it me or is Meg acting really—”

“Weird?  No, it’s not just you.”  Evan peered around the corner and saw his sister standing with her arms crossed, staring out the lobby windows.

“What do we do?  I feel like I’m walking on eggshells around her.  What if I say the wrong thing and she completely loses her mind?”

“See, that’s just it, Cole.  I think she’s already lost it.  She’s barely hanging on.”  Evan shook his head worriedly.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not about to take her to a highly emotional and potentially volatile situation.”  Cole’s words were tight with sarcasm.

“Let’s just hope the visit with Mom doesn’t twist her windup mechanism too much.  Meg doesn’t remember us or herself or anything.  Heck, we had to make sure she knew her own name.  Give her time, Cole.  She just needs time.”

“We don’t have time, Ev.  Remember Captain Bloody-Face and Senator Nano-
Nuts are on our heels.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Well?”

“Well, nothing.  We can only take on one thing at time.  Let’s get to the hospital.”

Chapter 16  Nothing But The Truth

Meg turned around and looked pointedly at the boys whispering in the hallway.  Seeing her, they stopped and headed toward the exit.  Meg gnawed on her bottom lip as they walked in silence to the SUV. 

Once everybody secured their seat belts, Meg spoke up.  “Just so you know.  I already feel like a freak, so please don’t make it worse for me by whispering behind my back.  Besides, I heard every word you both said.
”  She looked at each boy pointedly.  “Metahuman hearing with empath skills?  Come on.  Give me some credit,” she grumbled before turning to stare out her passenger window.

“Sorry, Meg.  We’ll work on being more sensitive to your—feelings,” Cole glanced
at her trying to catch her eyes but only saw the back of her thick head of hair.

“No, that’s not what I want,” she turned and stared daggers at both of them.  “I want you to treat me the way you always must have.  I’m a lot tougher than you’re giving me credit for and if these bad guys are as wicked as you claim, you’re going to need to focus on them, not me.  I can take care of myself.  No ‘eggshells,’ just honesty.  Besides, you’ve got to know I can tell when you’re lying.”

The boys exchanged a look through the rearview mirror.

“No lies or even half-truths.   On that note, Meg, your abilities seem different now.”