“You were human last night,” the man said to me. I frowned, did he say I was human? Was he crazy? “That means you're not one of them,” he continued. “I don't want to hurt you, move away.”
I clenched my fists around the handle of my stick. He took a step toward the gun, so I cocked back my stick.
"Not another step," I warned him, desperately seeking an opening to attack. With my back to Carrick, I couldn't tell if he was conscious... or even alive. I had to bring the gunman down. Fast.
"You don't understand. You don't know what he is," he pleaded.
"I have an eighty-nine mile per hour slapshot,” I said. Sure, that was twenty years ago and in my prime. And it wasn't an official clock. But he didn't need to know that. All he needed to know was that I meant business. “And your head will be a lot easier to hit than a puck.”
He turned and started to run. He was fast and I knew there was no way I could catch him, not with the way my knee was starting to throb. The important thing was that he was running away from Carrick. Without his gun. The sound of an engine revving to life cut through the silence of the night and a moment later he roared away on a motorcycle.
I spun and dropped to the ground next to Carrick. It didn't take long for warm blood to soak the knees of my sweatpants. He was hurt badly. I gingerly rolled him over, terrified that he was already dead. His face was pale, but he was breathing.
“Carrick? Hey!” I gasped.
I patted him gently on the cheek and to my relief his eyes fluttered open. He frowned at me, disoriented.
“Brooks?” he murmured.
“You’ll be okay, just hang on,” I told him. “I'm going to call 911.”
“Uh huh,” he said, eyes drifting shut again.
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, and typed in my password so frantically I got it wrong three times, before remembering I could make emergency calls without it.
“Wait, no!” Carrick’s hand shot out and he grabbed my wrist. “Not 911!”
“You’ve been shot,” I told him. “And it looks like you've lost a lot of blood, we've got to get you to the hospital.”
“No, no hospital.” His move to grab my wrist seemed have been all the energy he had. Although his hand remained on me, his grip loosened and his head lowered back to the pavement. “My phone,” he murmured. “No ambulance. No hospital.”
“You need a doctor,” I said firmly.
“Yes. My phone. Avery. Call Avery.”
“Carrick, I can't just call some random –”
“He's a doctor.” Carrick’s voice sounded weaker by the moment. “Please, call him. Just him. Need to… change…” He turned as if he was going to try to roll over.
“Okay, okay? I'll call him! Just stay put!”
“No,” he groaned. “Must get into car… Have to shift…”
He succeeded in rolling onto his stomach and dragging himself forward, closer to the car, before collapsing with a groan of pain.
“Call Avery,” he repeated. This time he reached a shaking hand toward his pocket, trying to free his phone.
It would be easy to ignore his wishes and just call an ambulance. It occurred to me that as much as we had gotten to know each other over the past few weeks, I didn't know him quite well enough to be sure that there wasn't some reason he needed this particular doctor. Especially since he seemed desperate to get into the car to change, whatever that meant. Promising myself that I would call 911 after speaking with this doctor, I pulled Carrick’s phone out of his pocket.
He mumbled a number, which I realized was his password. I quickly entered it and opened his contacts. A number for Avery was practically on top. I clicked call.
“Hey, Silv,” said a voice. “What's up?”
“Is this Avery?” I asked.
“Yes. Who is this? Where is Carrick?”
“He's been shot, he said I should call this number.”
“Holy shit! I'll let Nolan know right away! Where are you? Is Carrick with you? What's his status?”
“We’re at the hockey arena on the mainland. In…” I tried to think of the name of the town.
“I know where that is. Has Carrick changed?”
“Uh… no?”
“Is he conscious?”
“Yeah, barely.”
“Why the hell hasn’t he changed? Oh, crap. The arena’s too public, isn't it? Can you get somewhere private?”
“We're kind of in the middle of the parking lot…” I answered in confusion. Why would we go somewhere private? I would think the doctor would want us to be easily accessible.
“Can you get him into a car?”
“Yeah…”
“Okay, get him into that car, and get him to change! Don't let him pass out before he does! I've already texted Nolan and we’re both on the way. One of us will call you back when we get close, to figure out where you are.”
“Okay, what…” He had already hung up. How strange that he also wanted Carrick to change. Did he mean out of his practice uniform? Should I have told him that Carrick was already showered and changed into regular clothes?
I realized that I still had no idea whether Avery or this Nolan person were even actually doctors. They were on their way… when would they even get here? Did they expect me to sit in the parking lot waiting for them while Carrick bled to death? If they were on Half Moon it would be at least half an hour before they got here. I debated for a moment between calling 911 first or getting Carrick into the car. A pained groan from him answered my question. He seemed desperate to get into the car and for some reason Avery thought it was necessary too. It was pretty cold out, maybe I needed to get him inside to keep him warm?
Even though it went against my better judgment, I decided to get him into the car and comfortable first, then I could call 911.
“Come on, up you go.” Mindful not to make contact with the wound, I wrapped an arm around him and heaved him halfway to his feet. He gasped in pain and nearly collapsed. It was lucky that I was bigger than he was. Even so, it was still a challenge to get him a few short feet to the car. I opened the door and eased him into the backseat. It was cramped, but I climbed in next to him to comfort him before I called the ambulance. I closed the door to keep the car as warm as possible.
“Okay, you're in the car. It's safe. Avery said you need to change? Can I help you? What do you need…” I looked around. I couldn't see anything in the car that he could change into. Crap, was it in the trunk?
Carrick closed his eyes and his body slumped.
“Carrick?” I cried in alarm. “Hey!” I patted him on the cheek frantically. “Avery said there's something you have to do before you pass out!”
His body started to shake and I panicked, thinking he was having a seizure or something. It was dark in the car, but it looked like something was wrong with his skin. Confused, I reached forward to touch his cheek again. It was… hairy? Before I could figure out what was happening his face changed under my hand. His mouth and nose suddenly bulged and jutted out from his face several inches. I yanked my hand back in horror. What the hell was happening? His body twisted and kicked me in the stomach. I reached down to grab his leg and my hands closed around something that didn't feel quite right. His leg felt too skinny to be a leg. I squinted in the dark as his body tossed and turned on the seat. I heard the sound of tearing fabric and a strange whimpering, like a dog. I flicked on the overhead light and Carrick was gone. Sitting in the seat next to me, draped in a torn shirt and baggy sweatpants was a wolf.
I was speechless. I blinked, unable to believe what I was seeing. Carrick just… actually turned into a wolf? This was impossible. This was insane!
He curled up into a ball, gunshot wound still visible in his shoulder. The fur around it was already darkening and matting with blood.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any more insane, I heard his voice.
‘Please don't freak out.’
It was Carrick’s voice, but he didn't speak out loud. Somehow
it was echoing in my head. The wolf lifted his head and looked at me solemnly. I swallowed hard. Maybe the puck hit me in the head during practice and I was actually just on the ice hallucinating.
“Carrick?” I whispered to the wolf. On one hand, obviously was Carrick. I just seen him transform after all. On the other hand, Carrick just turned into a goddamn wolf.
That was what he meant by change! He wasn't trying to change his clothes, he was trying to actually change into a wolf! The pieces quickly fell into place. No wonder he told me not to call 911, obviously they weren't equipped to deal with a werewolf. And whoever this Avery guy was, he mentioned changing as well, he must have been in on it.
‘I didn't want to tell you like this,’ Carrick said into my head. ‘But I heal faster in my wolf form. I didn't have a choice. Are you okay?’
I couldn't quite resist laughing at the question. No, I wasn't sure I was entirely okay, having just seen someone change into a wolf. Then again, I was more okay than a human, or wolf for that matter, with a bullet in his back. “I'm okay, I guess… Are you okay? You are the one who was just shot…”
He nodded and rested his head on his paws. ‘Did you call Avery?’ Even in my head his voice sounded weak and weary.
“He's on his way. And so is… Nolan?”
‘Good.’ With that he closed his eyes. I sat there awkwardly. I was sitting in the car with a guy who just turned into a wolf. Did that make him a werewolf? ‘Will you stay with me until they get there?’
“Yes,” I heard myself say. Werewolf was not, I couldn't leave him alone like this.
And so, I sat in the car with a werewolf. I glanced out the window every so often, looking both for Avery, as well as the gunman, just in case he came back. At one point I noticed that the moon looked full. Of course it was full, why wouldn't it be?
I was starting to worry, when headlights flashed across the parking lot. A car pulled up near us and a man jumped out. He didn't look like the shooter and was wearing medical scrubs.
Warily, I got out of the car and stood protectively between him and Carrick, just in case it wasn't Avery or Nolan.
“How is he? Was he able to shift?” the man asked as he hurried over.
Did shifting mean changing into a wolf? “Yes,” I said. “He's sleeping now.”
“Great,” the man said, peering around me and into the car. He stood back with a sigh of relief. “Sorry, I never got your name. I'm Avery.” He held his hand out to me, but jerked it back and took a step away, eyes wide in alarm. “You're not…”
For a second I was confused, then I realized he must have somehow known that I wasn't a werewolf as well. “No,” I said awkwardly. “I’m a… just human?”
His eyes went from me to Carrick and back again.
I tried to think of what a werewolf in this situation would want to hear. Unfortunately, the only werewolf movies I knew were ones where they were the bad guys. And maybe they were. Maybe I was making a huge mistake, but I just felt in my gut that Carrick wasn't a monster. In fact, sitting in the car with him felt like being with a giant puppy. After spending so much time with him over the past couple of weeks, I couldn't believe that the happy-go-lucky hockey player was some evil creature.
“Are you going to help him or not?” I asked. I really wasn't sure what else I could say. It didn't seem like the time to get into some kind of a werewolves are real and I've stumbled into a horror movie conversation.
“Yes, of course," he said quickly. Giving me a nervous look out of the corner of his eye, he slipped passed me and climbed into the car to check on Carrick.
“It doesn't look like it hit anything vital, but I definitely need to get the bullet out. We need somewhere with more space and more light.” He climbed out of the car and looked nervously around the parking lot. “Help me get Carrick inside so I can take care of this bullet.”
He went around the car and opened the door on Carrick’s side. It turned out he didn't actually need my help, he easily scooped up the wolf. I was a big guy, but Avery was even bigger than me. I followed him as he strode quickly across the parking lot.
“Tell me if you see anyone coming.”
“I will,” I answered. I was planning to anyway; I didn't think he wanted to be seen carrying a wolf around.
“Where do you think is the best place to do this?” Avery asked me.
“There's a physical therapy room that has a bed in it,” I offered. He nodded, so I led him there. I was worried the door would be locked, but it opened easily. Luckily, there were no other activities scheduled for the night, so the building was empty.
As soon as we got to the room he set down Carrick on the bed. Carrick lifted his head and whined.
“Of course I came,” Avery snorted. “What's up with…” Avery tilted his head at me. He stared at Carrick for a moment and then grinned. “Ah! That's one way to do it. Congratulations.”
I realized that Carrick must have been talking into his head like he had with me. I wondered what the congratulations was for. I swallowed nervously as Avery turned in my direction and gave me a once over. He turned back to Carrick.
“How do you feel?” He nodded as Carrick, presumably, answered him. Then, he pulled out his cell phone and busied himself with it for a minute. “Okay, looks like Nolan should be here any time now and I reached out to the wardens as well.”
Avery was right. A few moments later his phone beeped. “Could you go to the main entrance and lead Nolan back here?” he asked me.
“Sure,” I said.
“If he asks, just let him know you’re Carrick’s true mate.”
Carrick yelped as I asked, “His what?”
Avery looked at him in alarm. “What do you mean you haven't told him?!” Carrick’s ears flattened against his head. “Never mind,” Avery said to me, hunching his shoulders guiltily.
Confused, I turned and headed for the main entrance to get whoever Nolan was. It seemed that he'd already arrived, because there was a man in a white doctor’s coat, carrying a briefcase, pacing on the sidewalk.
“Are you Nolan?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, hurrying toward me. “Dr. Nolan Craik, and you are… oh.”
He was pretty young for a doctor. He looked like he was in decent shape. About my size actually. With dark hair and piercing brown eyes. I considered his words. He probably used whatever trick it was to figure out that I was human. I didn't know what Avery’s suggestion meant, but decided to try it out.
“I’m Brooks,” I said. “Carrick’s true mate?”
“Oh!” He smiled broadly. “Well, that's fantastic. Verona is going to have a fit.”
“Who?” I asked as he strode past me and into the rec center.
“Carrick’s mother,” he said. “I suppose you probably haven't gotten a chance to meet her yet. These things do move fast. Maybe someday…” he added longingly. He shook his head. “Now where is Carrick?”
“Follow me.” I led him confidently to the PT room, which was about the only thing I was sure of right now. Why on earth would I be meeting Carrick’s mother? What moved fast? And was I really just wandering around with a bunch of werewolves?
I stood awkwardly at the edge of the room while Nolan and Avery conversed with Carrick. It seemed like he had the ability to speak with both of them at the same time, but since I couldn't hear him, and had earlier, he must have been deliberately excluding me from the conversation.
“Okay,” Nolan said. “We are as prepped as I can be with these tools. Brooks, why don't you come over here and pet him.”
“What?” I asked.
“I know you haven't told him,” Nolan directed the comment to Carrick. “But that doesn't mean his presence won’t be comforting. Please,” he said to me, gesturing toward Carrick.
Uncertainly, I walked over and followed his instructions. Carrick’s tail weakly thumped against the bed as I started petting him. It was rather like a dog.
I watched, fascinated, as Nolan began to work on extracting the bu
llet. Carrick yelped and snapped at the air.
“You may want to step back, Avery,” Nolan said calmly. “I don't think his wolf is too happy with us. I don't want you to get bitten.”
“Why should he step back?” I asked. “Isn’t biting how you get turned into a werewolf? I mean, he's already a werewolf right?”
“I'm not a wolf,” Avery snorted. Before I could ask if he was just a confused human like me, he added, “I’m a lion. And I'd still rather not be bitten.”
“Not to worry,” Nolan said briskly, “he won’t bite you, Brooks. Here we are.” He ended the discussion by abruptly extracting the bullet. Carrick threw back his head and yowled, snapping viciously. He did indeed twist toward Nolan, who jumped out of the way.
“What about you?” I asked the doctor, as he twisted the bullet around in the light above us. “Are you a lion?”
“Bear,” he said absently. His eyes narrowed in concern. “This looks silver.”
“Is he going to be okay?” I asked alarm. Wasn't a silver bullet supposed to kill a werewolf?
“He'll be fine,” Nolan said confidently. “Silver doesn't harm us any more than a regular bullet would… The problem is what it means.”
“And what does a silver bullet mean?” I asked.
“It means it's a good thing you called us,” said a voice from the doorway. I turned in surprise. There were two men standing there, both young. Goodness, weren't any of these werewolves or where lions or whatever my age? One of them was even bigger than Avery. I was dwarfed by him. He surveyed the room solemnly. The other guy looked small and lithe. He was grinning in amusement and I had a feeling it was he who had spoken.
The small one extended his hand to me. “Kessel. So, you're the one who called the doc? You didn’t happen to get a look at shooter did you?”
“I did, I even spoke with him.”
They all turned to me in surprise.
Kessel’s eyes narrowed. “What did he say?”
I tried to recall the conversation and my eyes widened as the comments that struck me as confusing suddenly made sense.
“He told me he saw me last night, and that he knows I'm human and… that was pretty much it. He said he didn’t want to hurt me and wanted me to move out of the way so he could kill Carrick.”
Icing the Omega Page 4