Wolf Hunter (23 page)

Growling.

Death.

Jaylen.

Jaylen, who wasn’t dead.

“
Miracle,” the doctors had said. They’d stared from him to their clipboards and back again, pausing to scribble and look, scribble and look.

Throat torn open. “Missed his carotid by a hair’s width. Should be dead anyway.”

Vocal cords damaged. “Never speak again if he wakes up.”

Loss of oxygen to the brain. “Brain damage certain if he wakes up.”

One thousand fifteen stitches in his right shoulder. “Like a bear tore into him. Never use it again if he wakes up. Lucky to be alive.”

Westley shifted and groaned as he stretched his legs, absently kicking the end of Jaylen’s hospital bed as he roused himself from an accidental nap. Standard issue chair—brown upholstery, curved arms, reclined if he moved his ass forward—was hell on his back, but he hadn’t moved from it unless certain bodily needs drove him out.

“Westley, you can’t stay here forever.”

Or Tom.

“He could wake up.”

“
West—it’s been a week. If he wakes up, I’ll call you. Now please, go get some fresh air. I’ll stay with him.”

“
Tom.”

“
That’s an order.”

Westley squeezed Jaylen’s hand and left the room. He didn’t leave because it was “an order.” He left because Tom looked like shit and he needed the chair more. He glanced back and saw Tom already slumped in it, head pitched forward into his hands. Westley had hardly seen Tom since setting up residence at Jaylen’s bedside. Tom had his hands full trying to stop the rolling avalanche of reactionary shitstorm from doing more damage.

Given that the hastily reformed city council had overturned the law against culling wolves
and
announced a planned hunt (Operation Revenge, they called it; no mincing words there) and County had sent a half dozen cops down to take over at the station, Tom had an uphill battle. Between that and the grief they all felt, it was amazing anyone was able to function.

And to top it off, the full moon was tonight. Westley’s thermos of tea was up in the room next to “his” chair. He’d hit it hard in the past week, but while it seemed Denton’s death had stopped other wolves’ random shifting, Westley was still drinking as much as he had before and still feeling the urge to shift burning in his veins. It wasn’t getting any easier on his stomach, either. If any more nurses found him curled over the private toilet in Jaylen’s room, he’d end up with a room of his own. The culling wasn’t to start until tomorrow night (provided the animal rights protesters making their way into town from the state university didn’t stop it), but it was damn certain to start early if the remaining pack made an appearance tonight. Hopefully they’d be smart enough to drive themselves a few hundred miles away or to lock themselves in a bunker.

Likewise, hopefully those protesters would get out of the damn way if they saw a wolf barreling toward them.

Westley bought a coffee and stood outside the hospital with it for exactly fifteen minutes dutifully inhaling the outdoor air. He bought another and returned to the room.

“How long does it take for your tea to work?” Tom didn’t turn around.

“
More than a few hours if you’re thinking about using it tonight.” Westley nudged him with the coffee. “Here.”

“
Thanks.”

“
Did he do anything?”

Tom’s lip twitched, but his eyes remained weary. “Yeah. He hopped up and did a dance as soon as you left. He just laid back down.” Reaching out, he patted Jaylen’s hand. “Wore himself out, poor guy.”

“Asshole,” Westley said, feeling better. Tom’s twitch turned into a proper smile.

“
Couldn’t resist.” He took the lid off the cup and inhaled. “Mmm. Institutionalized crap coffee. Just what I needed.” He looked at Jaylen again. “They did a number on his hair, didn’t they? Better to have a few bad hair days than be dead, though.”

The first time Westley had seen Jaylen fresh from surgery with his braids chopped off, uneven tufts of hair left close to his neck, and one side shaved bare up to his ear, he’d stopped in his tracks and reminded himself to breathe. Westley had tied off the close-to scalp cornrows that remained using rubber bands he’d found in the gift shop, but not before they’d started unraveling. “He’s going to be so pissed off.”

“Probably,” Tom said, which wasn’t the reassurance Westley had been hoping for.

“
I don’t know if my tea’s working,” Westley said after a moment. “I think I’m going to change tonight.”

Tom, still seated, looked up at him. “Do you feel sick? It’s not natural for you to prevent your shift—”

“Don’t start,” Westley said. “I told you I’d go back on it as soon as Denton was dead. Maybe you don’t mind being a murdering bastard—”

“
I’ve never killed anyone. Until... recently.”

“
Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Westley couldn’t meet his eyes, certain they were both thinking the same thing; that Tom had gone his whole life without ending someone else’s until he’d had to kill his father, but Westley had his first kill before he hit puberty. The boy from Westley’s fifth grade class. Westley had never believed his father was responsible, not really. “I meant, I meant I don’t want... to be like that. Inhuman.”

“
Humans kill too.” Tom glanced at Jaylen. Westley wasn’t sure if he was making a point or if it was a coincidence that Denton had said almost the same thing. But, knowing Tom, there were no coincidences.

“
Yeah, well.... He’s my mate now, so you better watch what you say about him.” Westley bunched his fists. He’d never hit Tom before.

“
I’ve mentioned your tea to the pack.”

“
You had a pack meeting?”

“
Believe it or not, the world goes on while you’re in here.”

“
I know that. I... don’t think about it much, I guess.”

“
I’m not blaming you. It’s good you’re here with Jaylen.”

“
Thanks.”

“
I’ve been trying to find a solution that will keep people safe for the long term. We’ve talked about moving the pack.”

“
You can’t—”

“
It’s an option. Then I thought of your tea. Of course as soon as I mentioned it, the elders who believed me that a concoction like that existed accused me of trying to save my own ass. They figure some wolf will kill me once we’re all shifted.”

“
Tom—”

Tom’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I think it too. Everything’s a mess out there. But that’s not why I think it’s a good idea. You understand, don’t you?”

“It’s the safest way,” Westley said. “But it won’t do any good this close to the full moon.”

“
Everyone’s on orders to lock themselves up tonight. Westley, I didn’t tell anyone it was yours, although with your reputation for working magic with plants and, well, being you, I’m sure it won’t be difficult to figure out. Hopefully it’ll keep everybody human next moon and after that, we’ll see.”

Tom had a point, but Westley couldn’t worry about it now. “I’m taking four times my normal dose, so with what I have ready I can give you enough for sixty doses. That won’t cover everyone. Hell, it’ll hardly help a third.”

“Make me a dosage chart,” Tom said. “And I’ll make sure it gets to the ones most likely to be rampaging. For the others, we’ll figure something out.”

“
Are you including yourself on that list?”

“
I can take care of myself.”

“
Sure you can.” Westley smiled. “How are you, really?”

“
Honestly, I’ve been better. You should hear the ideas I’ve had to talk down. Somebody wanted to shift all the humans. Said they won’t kill us if they’re one of us. He actually had supporters.”

“
Crap,” Westley said.

“
Exactly.” Tom’s gaze settled on Westley’s clenched hands. He looked back up to Westley’s face and said, “How have you been feeling since we killed Denton?”

“
Peachy. You?”

Tom gave a wry smile, letting on he saw through Westley’s sarcasm. “I can shift whenever I want now.”

“You could always do that.” Westley wasn’t sure where Tom was going with this, and it annoyed him. He wasn’t ready to give up his anger yet. He’d had a week at Jaylen’s bedside with no one to get pissy with except the nurses, and he felt bad when he snapped at them.

“
It’s different,” Tom said. “I think I could still do it when the moon wasn’t near full.”

Westley’s hands relaxed. “Okay, that’s weird,” he admitted. “I’ve been feeling, well, like I could, like if I quit taking my tea, I could shift right now.”

“Do you think you could control it?”

Westley shook his head. “I’m out of practice, not that I ever had much control to start with. And I can’t afford to shift, not tonight, not with—” He nodded at Jaylen. “He needs me.”

“Yeah. Listen, sorry I implied he was a mass murderer. I’ve been touchy lately. And I’m looking out for you, you know—”

“
He is,” Westley said, feeling touchy himself. “But I guess he had a good reason for it.”

“
A good reason?” Tom upended the question into a laugh. “He’s bonking insane? One wolf kills his family so he decides to kill all of them?”

“
No.” Westley looked at Tom, feeling more earnest than he’d been in weeks. “He’s like Denton. Focused, but for revenge, not killing for kicks, which is what Denton did. Jaylen let himself get blinded to what he was doing. To who he was hurting.”

“
So we should let it go?” Tom asked.

“
I’m not saying that. I just think we shouldn’t judge him so fast. And that now Denton’s dead, he won’t need to kill anymore.”

“
So you hope.”

“
Don’t you hope that too?”

“
It would mean I don’t have to kill your mate, so, yeah, I hope that too. Anyway—” he shrugged “—County is looking into the Curlicue murders.”

Westley’s heart stopped. “Are they going to arrest him?”

“In that condition?” Tom gestured at Jaylen, barely visible beneath the  feeding tube and oxygen mask and all the wires and bandages. “Unlikely. Plus there’s the fact that no one can find the evidence records about the case.”

“
What?”

“
Yeah. Weirdest thing. They disappeared.” Tom examined his trimmed nails. He hadn’t cleaned all the dirt out of them. “I guess they were destroyed in the chaos. Now no one knows who to suspect for those murders.”

“
Are you saying you—” Westley held himself back from hugging Tom. He didn’t think his mate would appreciate it, even if Jaylen was unaware. And Westley didn’t want it either. He wanted to be good for Jaylen.

“
Not saying anything except that the records are gone,” Tom said. He grinned. “And nobody knows Mr. Knox is here, so I wouldn’t expect  troopers to come barreling down the hall any time soon.”

“
Mr. Knox” was the name they’d used to check Jaylen into the hospital, same as the fake ID, credit card, and insurance card Tom had found in Jaylen’s bag. It was one of about fifteen IDs (“Just in case you didn’t know you were dating a criminal,” Tom had said, holding them up in a fan formation) and the only name with a complete set of documents needed for a long hospital stay. The other surviving victims had been taken to La Mer’s community hospital, but the paramedics’ assessment of Jaylen’s injuries had resulted in his being helicoptered to a larger hospital where he’d slipped in with little notice.

Westley, still needing to touch Tom somehow, squeezed his shoulder and stepped over to sit on the windowsill before he did more to show his gratitude. “Are you here to help me bust him out?”

“Thought I might. If you wanted the help.”

He and Tom had talked about moving Jaylen, but now that they were a few hours from the full moon, the need to shift pulled him so strong Westley was losing his confidence.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea. Moving him could kill him.”

“
As a human, yeah.”

And there was the crux of Jaylen’s “miracle.” Not an act of God, but an act of the Alpha. Denton’s saliva mingled with Jaylen’s blood and surged through his veins, keeping him alive and, in a few hours, it would be responsible for his first shift.

“We have to wait until he’s changed,” Tom said, “and then make him follow us out the window.”

“
Are you sure he’ll follow?” Westley asked.

“
He’ll recognize his alpha.”

“
Considering who bit him, are you sure
he’s
not
your
alpha?”

“
Well then, he can
chase
us out.”