You've Got Tail (20 page)

I managed to grunt an affirmative. He started at my scalp—no lacerations, he confirmed—then my jaw. He made a humming noise as he pulled a syringe from his bag, along with a bottle of clear liquid. He drew the plunger back until the syringe was full.

“This is some Lidocaine. It's going to pinch a little, but it'll make you feel better.”

His hands warm and dry, he gently pushed the area in front of my left ear, and injected me with the burning liquid. I squeezed my eyes tightly to keep from squirming or trying to clench my teeth. He repeated the procedure on the right side.

The pain abated. I let out a grateful sigh that stopped when Billy Bob pressed his thumbs along both those spaces and exerted pressure. Inside, I screamed as I felt my jaw snap back into place.

“Awww,” I managed past my thick tongue. My jaw still hurt like a bitch, but at least I could move it again.

“Don't open your mouth wide for a couple of days, and make sure you put a hand under your chin if you yawn or laugh. Your mandible was dislocated, and you'll have some swelling from possible muscle and tendon tearing that will need to heal.”

Man, this guy was in full-on doctor mode. It was really hard to think of him as the same painted man who'd kept me in a sweat tent for a couple of days. He put on gloves and pulled out a tongue depressor from his kit.

“I'm going to look in your mouth now. It's not going to be comfortable, but the Lidocaine set at your mandibular joints should help some.”

With one hand he held a small light, the other the depressor, which he used to move my tongue around. “You're a lucky woman.”

So lucky. I wanted to smack him. Lucky would have required me to
not
get the crap beat out of me for the second time in a span of a week.

“Only a lateral tear on the left side of your tongue from where you bit it. And the tongue is one of the quickest-healing appendages on the body.”

I wanted to tear his appendage and see how lucky he felt.

He moved closer to my face, and I thought he was going to numb up my tongue like he had my jaw, but instead, he kissed me.

Holy crap! His tongue swirled around mine. In my shock and awe, I nearly failed to notice that my mouth was feeling better and better with each swipe. When he finally quit laying the lip-lock on me, my toes were curled and my tongue felt less swollen and painful.

“Why did you do that?” My surprise must have amused him, because he grinned.

Now that the pain was better, I noticed him. Really noticed him. He looked positively amazing. He wore tight black jeans and a button-down navy-blue shirt that set off his incredible gray eyes. He had his dreadlocks pulled back off his face, and the sight of him nearly took my breath away. I bet he wouldn't be as much of a challenge as Babel. Billy Bob was actually a grown-up. Although, just thinking about Babel made my heart sink. I wasn't ready to move on to someone else. Not yet.

“Lycanthrope saliva has healing properties,” he replied, buckling his black bag.

“Uh-huh.” I was still confused. But I definitely understood what Ruth meant about a “great bedside manner.” Woo-wee.

He shrugged. “It was a hell of a lot more fun than spitting in your mouth.”

“Ewww.” And I completely agreed. Then another thought occurred, my shoulder had healed up pretty damn quick as well. “That poultice you made for my shoulder…”

“Yep,” he confirmed.

Great, who needed a medical license when you could salivate super-healing ju-ju? I wanted to be repulsed, but I settled for appreciative. “Thank you. Again.”

“My pleasure.” He brushed my hair back with a finger then traced down the side of my face and neck. His gaze softened. To me, he felt safe, not like Babel.

Babel.

The thought of Babel made me shrug off Billy Bob's touch. My head said Billy Bob was definitely the better choice as far as guys went, but my heart was all in on Babel, even if I couldn't have him.

Shaking his head, Billy Bob picked up the ice pack off the nightstand and put it back on my face. “Ice, rest, and ibuprofen. And try to keep your mouth closed. I'll be back in the morning to check on you.”

“Thanks again, Doc.” I pursed my lips with consternation as he left my bedroom and apartment.

I am such an idiot.
Billy Bob was good looking, didn't seem to have a lot of baggage, and he was an actual grown-up without a psychotic girlfriend. And while he hadn't asked me out or come on strong, I'd seen the look. The one a guy gives when he's interested. Billy Bob was definitely interested.

I rationalized my reluctance as part of my “no men” mantra, but my heart knew better. I ached for Babel, and damn it, I wanted it to stop. Conflicted, yet resolute, I took one of the pain pills Billy Bob had left on the nightstand with a glass of water and closed my eyes to the day.

When I woke up, a large, warm body pressed against my back. A hairy arm crossed my chest while soft snoring played in my ear. Hazy still, I couldn't figure out where I was or whose arms I was in. I turned my aching face to my bedmate and saw my
happy place
. “Babel?”

His eyelids opened on his handsome face. “Hey there,” he said softly. “I came last night, but didn't want to wake you. You all right?”

I nodded, fighting back the tears that wouldn't come the night before. He wrapped his arms around me and I let him hold me tight. For a brief moment, I let him be a man to my woman and took his comfort for all it was worth.

That is, until I heard a throat clear. I looked up.

Babel went rigid and his voice was hard. “Hi, Doc.”

“How are you feeling this morning, Sunny?” Billy Bob sat on the edge of my bed, the Babel-free edge—his full concentration on me.

“I'm still pretty sore,” I said with a tight mouth.

Billy Bob leaned in close to examine my face and Babel's arms tightened around me. While there were worse situations than being sandwiched between two gorgeous men, I had a feeling they would kill each other before they threw any action my way.

As Billy Bob touched my cheek, checking for swelling I guessed, a low rumble emanated from Babel. Billy Bob snarled back.

Come on! What the hell?

“Oh, for daisy's sake, Babel,” I said through gritted teeth, admonishing Billy Bob with a narrow-eyed stare. “Go wait out in the living room until the
doctor
is finished checking me over.”

Was I the only one in the room who remembered that I'd gotten knocked silly the night before? These guys were awfully territorial considering neither had any real claim to me. Sheesh!

Babel skirted off the bed, grabbing his shirt from the nightstand as he left the room without even a glance back.

Billy Bob leaned forward for a closer look at my jaw, close enough to touch, but not touching. Good man. “So, do you want another kiss?” he asked with a grin.

Maybe not so good. But there was a part of me that twitterpated. “No.” Up close, I noticed some fine lines at the edge of his eyes.

The first time I'd met the Shaman-doc, I'd thought he was old because of the hair, then young because of the
GQ
body and pretty-boy good looks. But now, now I wasn't sure at all how old he was. Hadn't Ruth said he'd delivered all her children? How in the world was that possible?

“What are you thinking about?” He placed his finger between my eyebrows. “You're going to get hard lines if you keep up that kind of concentration.”

“How old are you?”

“How old are
you
?” he countered.

“I asked first.” I smiled and wished I hadn't. Too much pressure on the jaw.

“I'm forty-seven.”

“Damn, men have all the good aging genes.” Hell, yeah, I was jealous. I was over a decade younger than Billy Bob and I certainly had a bit more age to my appearance. Of course, he looked like he was still in his twenties.

“Your turn.”

“Uh-uh, no way.” The corners of my lips tugged upward in a small smile.

“Come on.” He winked. “Doctor-patient confidentiality and all.”

“You think you're slick enough to get it out of me, huh?”

He skimmed my cheek with his thumb. “And then some.”

My breath caught as he moved his lips toward mine. He was fun and easy, without attachments. In other words, he was not Babel Trimmel. And while he was hotter than August on the sun, again, he wasn't Babel. My body ached only for one man.

Jo Jo walked in and the doc went full stop. “Sunny.” Jo Jo hesitated. “Is this a bad time? Babel said I could come in.”

Of course he had. Admittedly, I was put off, but Jo Jo's timing had probably saved me a lot of embarrassment down the road. “Nope. Not a bad time.” I held out my hand to the teenager.

He smiled and took it. “I'm so glad you're all right. The sheriff made me go home last night or I would have stayed. I'm sorry you got hurt. So sorry.”

Guilt was written all over Jo Jo's pensive face. Even with all the tattoos, piercing, funky dye-job and the sleeveless black T-shirt, he looked like a scared kid.

I knew in that moment—Jo Jo thought his dad attacked me.

I wanted to do something to ease his mind. Even if his dad had been the culprit, it wasn't Jo Jo's fault, and he shouldn't have to carry the burden. “I didn't get a chance to thank you. You're my hero.”

“You're welcome. I'm just sorry I didn't show up sooner. I'd have kicked some major ass.”

Billy Bob stood up and took a step back. “I'll let you visit for a few minutes, then Jo Jo, Sunny's going to need to rest.” He stepped out of room.

“Oh, Jo Jo,” I said softly as the boy sat next to me on the bed. He bowed his head, avoiding eye contact.

“I'd come by last night to tell you how bad I felt about my dad talking to you like he did. He didn't mean nothin', Sunny. I swear it.” He was so sad. A sad young man. Why hadn't I seen it before?

Squeezing his hand tighter, I could feel my eyelids fluttering in spasms and
I was running
.

A blonde woman, Jo Jo's mother, ran past me at a faster pace than I could manage, but I tried to keep up. The fear in her brought about a surge in my adrenaline. She jumped over logs and bushes like a gazelle, but it was a clump of grass that tripped her up. She fell, sprawling face-first onto the damp ground.

“Get up, Rose Ann,” I said. Why wasn't she fighting them? Couldn't she turn into a big were-creature and whip the shit out of them? “Fight! Don't give up.”

Two men grabbed her arms and dragged her backward, laughing to themselves at some clever personal joke.
Why couldn't I see their faces!
I felt nauseas. Her pink suit dress was torn and filthy, her beautiful blonde hair dirty with nature, and her shoeless feet were cracked and bleeding.

I saw all of her, but none of them. I wanted to scream with frustration. Then I heard one of them say, “Maybe we pumped her too full of tranquilizer for the change?”

And the other said, “Yeah, if he was even telling the truth about her. Just because
he
can, don't mean shit.”

“Well, if she don't, we'll just have to hunt his ass down.”

“Please,” Rose Ann whispered. “Don't. I have a family…”

One of the men smacked her head with the butt of his rifle.

“Rose Ann!” I roared.

Much to Jo Jo, Billy Bob, and Babel's surprise. Apparently, I was back in the real world, and I'd brought the tail end of the vision with me.

“Oww,” I said. The shout had hurt.

Jo Jo leaned off the bed and threw up. Rose Ann had been hunted like Judah, only now I knew one of her own people had sold her out. A man. Had Chavvah found out who? Is that why she disappeared? Had she been taken as well?

Oh, no! The full moon had happened a week ago. Was she dead already? Was I too late for my friend?

I would find the bastard who'd sold out his own kind for sport, so help me, and I would make him pay.

B
abel helped Jo Jo to the bathroom to clean up. The guilt over his father possibly hurting me, and the shock of hearing me scream his mother's name, had been too much for the boy. I didn't blame him for throwing up—I didn't know what was keeping me from doing the same.

I tried to put the pieces together, everything I'd seen and heard since I'd gotten to Peculiar. None of it made any sense. It was as though I'd been given a jigsaw puzzle that had most of its pieces missing, and even worse, extra pieces from other puzzles. Nothing fit.

The key had to be in the recent attack. Most towns, especially small ones, had their share of problems to hide, but this secret had someone bothered enough to assault me. Obviously, whoever it was didn't want me dead, because if that had been the case, I'd be a corpse. This had been a warning to scare me and it worked. I was scared.

I now suspected everyone and anyone in town, except Babel. After all, he'd only arrived after his brother's disappearance. And while my choice in men had never been top-notch, I couldn't believe Babel could do anything so dastardly.

Billy Bob didn't make my list of suspects either. It's not that he didn't have opportunity; he'd been around the town a very long time. But I couldn't fathom any motive. Besides, he's the one who encouraged me to help Judah make his peace. Jo Jo wasn't on my list either. Too young, too vulnerable, and he loved his mother too much.

Everyone else was fair game, though. I didn't know these people from Shinola. Not only were they strangers, they were a whole 'nother species. Two people in this town had been hunted for sport, possibly more—my stomach lurched at the thought of Chav being hunted—and for certain one of them was dead.

Sheriff Taylor arrived with Tyler Thompson in tow. Seeing the deputy sent flutters of fear through me. He was high on my “who would want to hit me” list.

I avoided looking directly at Tyler. Jo Jo's silent pleading kept me from implicating his father. I would let the teenager have his say after the police left. It wasn't as if I felt I owed him, but a small part of me felt a kinship to the disenfranchised Jo Jo.