Southern Shifters: Bearing the Ink (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Black & White Book 3) (5 page)

“I know.” And he did. Nothing Luke said was out of place and none of it was anything Gus hadn’t already thought about. She would’ve shifted some time and somewhere and she would have been alone, scared.

Thinking of her in that way made his stomach hurt and his throat close up.

“She has a family now. She has you now. Once this all is under control, she’ll be the happy person you want her to be.”

But when it’s all over, will she still want me?
He kept that question to himself. That level of uncertainty voiced out loud wasn’t going to happen, especially with Luke Blackwood. He —

“Do you smell that?” Luke stopped walking and lifted his face toward the sky. Gus stopped as well and took in a few deliberate breaths, trying to discern different scents. He finally found the one Luke was talking about. It was wolf, but…

“What is it?” he asked, hoping Luke would have a more definitive answer.

“I’m not sure.”

So much for that idea. “It’s werewolf, though, right?”

“Yeah.” He started walking again. “We need to get back.”

Gus agreed and followed the quickened pace. Something didn’t feel right. The air didn’t feel right, didn’t smell right, and the closer to the house they got, the more potent the danger became. Only, he couldn’t see it. He could feel it, the prickle of his skin, the churning in his gut, but he couldn’t see it and that scared him.

Nothing had changed from when they walked out to when they walked in. The wolves were still in pain on the floor. Bex still knelt between them, soothing them with her voice and her touch. His mother was laying out towels and heated water in pots and bowls. Michael was pacing the floor. He looked up when Gus stepped into the room and it stopped Gus in his tracks. Something was clearly wrong.

Chapter Five

“Thank heavens you two are back. What did you do? Stop for ice cream? Bring that stuff over to me.” Meryl reached for and grabbed the bags from Gus and Luke. She settled on the floor beside the wolf with the gunshot. “Michael, bring that lamp over.” She showed him where to set the light and then positioned it where she needed it.

“Where’d the lamp come from?”

“Michael went out for it while you two took your own sweet time at the drug store.”

Gus glanced at his brother who just shook his head.

The mood in the room was as somber as it had been before they left on their errand and he wanted to grab Michael and Luke and head outside, figure out what the hell was going on, figure out why the hairs on the back of his neck continued to stand on end, figure out why his bear was near to crawling out of his skin.

Tension fed off tension and the room vibrated with it. If he didn’t do something soon, he’d start pacing. He wasn’t sure the floors could handle double the abuse.

Then Bex looked up at him, caught his gaze with hers, and some of his restlessness settled. They were all in danger, she was in danger most of all, and if he could just see her, keep her, stay close to her, he would be all right.

He read the worry in her eyes and he hated that he had no words, no way to ease her concerns. There were no answers that weren’t going to lead to more violence, so he couldn’t give her the reassurance she needed.

“Gus, come down here and help me. My hands aren’t as steady as they used to be.”

Yes. Something to fucking do, something to keep his mind and hands occupied. “Can we lift him to the table? I’ll be able to work on him better on the table.”

“It’s not long enough.”

“But mine is,” he said suddenly, and raced up the stairs to the room where he’d stashed his tattoo supplies.

“What are you doing?” Luke asked, close on Gus’s heels.

“Apparently, I’m going to dig the bullet out of one of your pack,” Gus said, breaking down his portable massage table and latching the ends to keep it secure for the trip back down to the dining room. He stood and looked at Luke. “Why? What are you doing?”

“Asshole.”

“Takes one.”

“I want to investigate that scent outside. It was too different, too odd, and too close by.”

Gus nodded. “Take Michael with you.”

“I don’t need a chaperone.”

“No. But you might need help if you run into something or someone.”

“You’ll take care of Tip?? That’s his name. Tip. He’s got that black on the end of his tail when the rest of him is gray and white. And Ben. The other’s name is Ben.”

“Yes. I’ll take care of them both.”

“You know I have my theories.”

“I do too, but standing up here isn’t going to get anything resolved.” When Luke turned and took the steps down, Gus followed close behind. His gut told him that whoever attacked the two wolves had been sending a message. His gut told him it was the Mayor or some of his minions. His gut told him time was running out to get more answers, to get out of harm’s way. His gut told him the fight was about to come knocking on Bex’s door.

He only hoped they were ready when it did.

He unlatched the table, and with Luke and Michael’s help, they got Tip up on it. Gus hated the sound a wounded animal made, the helpless, pain-filled look in its eyes. Shifters were no different in that respect. When in animal form, they took on many of the same traits. Being shot or trapped was the same for all and it was just as frightening.

“What do you need?” Bex stood at his side, petting the wolf.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. I don’t have anything to sedate him with, so we’re going to have to either strap him down or hold him down.” Gus glanced at Luke, who leaned against the wall. “What do you think?”

“He’d hate to be drugged anyway. We can hold him. As long as you can get to the bullet in his leg, we can hold him.”

“Who’s going to hold his head?”

“Not me.”

“Don’t look at me.”

“He’s your pack mate.”

Gus watched as each shifter in the room bowed out of holding the wolf’s head steady. He didn’t blame them, but at the same time, they were grown men, capable of so much strength and power, but scared of one of their own. He shook his head. “One of you will have to do it. I don’t think the bullet is deep, but he needs to be kept as still as possible and that includes his head.”

“I’ll do it,” Bex offered, moving toward the wolf’s head. “I’ll hold him.”

“Bex…” Gus started to say, to warn her off, but the look in Tip’s dark eyes, the imploring gaze, and Gus promptly ceased his objections. “Keep your hands and face away from his mouth. He may howl. He may even pass out from the pain. But keep your face and hands away from his mouth.”

“I will.”

His mother took the spot Bex vacated while Michael and Luke each took an end of the wolf’s body.

Gus snapped his gloves into place and grabbed a cloth to blot at the blood seeping from the wound. He took hold of the blunt tipped medical scissors and took several deep breaths. He might be able to stitch someone up and he might be able to give detailed tattoos, but digging into skin and muscle and tissue, not even knowing where the object was, fucked with his head. He didn’t know how to do this, perform surgery. But he understood them not being able to seek out a vet or a doctor. They couldn’t risk someone talking. They couldn’t risk any more exposure than they’d already had.

He caught Bex staring at him and she smiled. Funny how that was all he needed in that moment. Her smile. Her willingness. Her calm in the midst of the chaos of their current situation. He nodded, though it was meant only for him as a way of telling him he could handle the task at hand, no matter that he was scared shitless.

His mother took over, dabbing at the wound, and held the small, bright lamp over it. “Tip, I’m going to start now. It’s going to hurt like fuck and I’m so damn sorry about it.”

Gus pushed lightly against the wolf’s leg. It only elicited soft whimpers at first, but as he pressed closer to the opening, the whimpers turned to howls. That’s where the bullet had to be.

“What if it’s in the bone or embedded in the muscle?”

“Then we’re fucked and we’ll have to get a doctor.”

“So, we should hope for it being near the surface.” It was a statement, one of agreement felt all around.

“Yes.”

Gus stepped closer, moved his hand toward the wound, when Luke grabbed his wrist. “You’ve never done this. Are you sure?”

“He never has, but he can. I’ve taken bullets out of the men in my family since I was a young girl. Sometimes with nothing more than a pair of tweezers or my own fingers. But my hands aren’t as steady as his. He can do this, Luke. You trusted us enough to bring them here. Trust us enough to take care of them.”

Gus blushed at his mother’s praise. He also understood Luke’s concerns. He could do what needed to be done. He could do the task at hand.

* * * * *

Gus stood at the window in the attic, overlooking the street. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean, pretty girl?”

“I don’t know. Something in the air, something going on around us. I feel it. I smell it. I don’t understand it. It’s making my skin crawl and making me restless.”

“I know. Your senses are heightened still from shifting earlier. The more you do it, the more some of those heightened senses will stay with you even when you’re in your human form.”

“You feel it too then?”

“I do. We all do. It means your animal instincts are working. The bear is feeling danger. It’s your gut telling you that something is wrong. It’s survival mode kicking in.”

“Why is it so strong?”

“Humans call it intuition. We’re part animal. We call it survival instincts.”

“Going back to Bryson City wasn’t a good idea, was it?”

“No. But we learned things we didn’t know before. We know we’re on the right track. And we may be in a position to help someone else before a member of their family turns up dead.”

“Do you think he knows? The Mayor? Do you think he or his friends are who shot the wolves?”

“I think yes to all of it.”

“So, what do we do?”

“We wait and see, baby. We wait and see.”

Bex had no idea how she felt about wait and see. She’d never had anything to be urgent or impatient about, never any impending danger. She didn’t like it. She wanted whatever was coming their way to just show itself. But maybe she shouldn’t. Maybe the sooner it showed itself, the sooner those in her life now would be injured or die.

And she had so many people in her life that she never imagined having, so many, who because of her, because of her mother and what had happened to her so long ago, put them all in danger.

Gus reached out and touched the crease in her brow that she hadn’t realized was there. “You’re worrying.”

“Of course I’m worrying.”

“Try not to, okay? It’s not going to help anything.”

“Is that why you’re so calm? Are you trying to protect me?”

“Always. We can’t change it, Bex. A confrontation is going to happen whether we worry or not and I’d rather focus on other things.”

“What sort of things?”

“More pleasurable things. What’s coming isn’t going to go easier if we worry over it, worry over what will happen.”

“But we can be prepared.”

“How do you prepare for something you’re not sure of?” Gus took her by the waist and pulled her between his knees. Being close to him made her feel better. Being close to him made her feel safe. She couldn’t shake the unease inside her, though. She couldn’t calm her racing heart, or still the thoughts in her head.

“Look… The Mayor is going to come. He’s going to call us all out. He’s going to try and kill us, especially you. You most of all, signify everything he’s lost. Me and Luke and Michael and the rest of us? We signify it too. On a different level, but we do. This is what we know. What we don’t know, is when or how. I can’t and won’t waste precious time with you worrying about that. I won’t waste precious moments with you in my arms or under my hands worrying about that.”

“Under your hands?”

Gus smiled and kissed her softly. “See? Of all I said, you’re most curious about what it means to be under my hands. That’s my pretty girl. I don’t want you sad. From the moment I saw you, sad and broken hearted in the street, I knew I’d make it my mission in life to never see you that way again. And that still holds true.”

As he talked, he’d lifted her shirt, skimming her bare skin with his fingers. She could and often did lose herself to his touch. “Is it because I’m a bear, too, that you… That we…” She didn’t know what she was trying to say or ask, so she let the words trail away.

“It could be,” Gus said softly. “It could be that your bear recognized mine or mine yours. I’ve never believed in the fates and mates. I was raised to believe it, but I always had more doubts than faith that it existed.”

“And now?”

“Meeting you? Yeah, I think it does exist.” He kissed her, open mouthed and hungry. His fingers dug into her skin and Bex let herself get swept up in his arms, her fears momentarily forgotten.

Gus eased her onto his thigh, her legs spread over it. His hand moved to her ass and pulled her up high with her knee pressed to his cock. They were still fully clothed, but it didn’t seem to matter. Her body reacted and she rode his leg, bearing down with her hips. He held her to his mouth with his other hand at the back of her neck.

She lost herself in the sexual tension that built low in her belly. She lost herself in the look in his eyes when she opened hers to find him watching her through their kiss. She lost herself in the knowledge that he was there, he was hers, this big man-bear with the tattoos and the larger than life presence. She lost herself in who she was with him.

“Gus…” she whimpered into his mouth, her vision dimming at the edges as the orgasm crashed through her. He guided one of her hands between his legs and pushed her palm against his erection, pumping his hips in small, sharp thrusts before groaning. He pulsed inside his jeans and against her hand. He came and she couldn’t stop the moan from her throat or the smile on her lips.

They’d dry humped each other like a couple of teenagers. He took her mouth again, tangled his tongue with hers, and hugged her to him. “What that what you meant when you said under your hands?” she asked when she could form words again. He chuckled and it warmed her from the inside out.

“No. What I’d meant was that I wanted to finish the tattoo I’d started on you. It’s always how I dealt with things I didn’t know or understand. I’d get inside my head with my art, with the tattoos. It was my distraction until I could figure out what I was supposed to do.”

“Was?”

“Maybe you’re my distraction now.” He pierced her with his dark eyes. “No, scratch that. There is no maybe about it. You are a delicious distraction to me. I still want to ink you, though. I still want to put my mark on you. I still want some part of me permanently on your skin.”