IcySeduction

by Shara Lanel

  Saron was again talking to the pilot as the bird lowered evenly to the tarmac. He turned to Jake. “My driver is waiting out front already. It should take us less than five minutes to get to your place since the traffic is light at this time of the morning and it being Sunday.”

  Jake could feel that his son’s panic had turned into desolation.

  I’m almost there, Dean. Hold on.

  Even the elevator ride down to the car seemed to take too long. They drove up Columbus Avenue to his apartment. He preceded Saron out of the car since the older man was giving his driver more instructions. Once inside the building Jake bolted up the stairs, not even breathing hard. Saron easily followed him, one of the perks of being were.

  Mrs. Wajowski was lingering in the hall near Jake’s front door. “I thought I heard banging and yelling a few minutes ago, but it stopped.” She pointed to her own door. “My husband said it was just the TV.”

  Jake tried for a calm voice just to get the old lady out of the way. “It probably was. Dean is home and probably has it turned up too loud.”

  “Oh okay. That happened last night too, but a lady came to the door. She turned it down after that.”

  Jake was glad to hear news of Christine, but he didn’t want to waste time asking more questions. He fumbled his key into the lock because his hands were starting to shake. His left eye was twitching too, something it did when he was under extreme stress, like in court during the custody hearing.

  He and Saron stepped inside the apartment, with Saron shutting the door firmly behind him to keep prying eyes out. Part of Jake’s apartment looked like a Jackson Pollock painting, mostly the floor. Besides drips and spray, there were bloody footprints. They were small, so most likely Christine’s. Even more blood was in the kitchen, on the fridge handle and on cabinet doors. Bloody towels on the counter, both cloth and paper. Pinkish water in the sink.

  But no sign of Christine. So, was she dead in his bedroom or unconscious at a hospital somewhere? His nosy neighbor hadn’t mentioned seeing paramedics. Jake found the bedroom door locked, so he broke the handle off with brute strength. The first thing he saw inside was a mound of blankets at the end of the bed. Saron was saying something, but Jake could hear Dean’s yells coming from the closet. He broke the handle on the closet too, too impatient to unlock it. Dean launched into his arms.

  “Dad, I don’t know what happened to me. Dad, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what happened!”

  “I’ll explain it all, son. You’ve nothing to be sorry about. It wasn’t your fault.” He didn’t yet know if he was saying Christine’s death wasn’t his fault. He guided Dean out of the closet and found Saron kneeling next to the mound of blankets, also bloodstained, and the tiny head poking out from underneath them. Saron was talking on his phone, but Christine’s eyes were closed and her expression peaceful. Jake knew she had to be dead.

  Dean fell to his knees. “Oh Daddy, I’m so sorry.” Daddy was a name he hadn’t called Jake for several years.

  Saron put the phone into his pocket as he stood up. “She’s not dead. Feel for her pulse. It’s there but weak.”

  Jake knelt near Christine, where Saron had been and felt her neck for her pulse. He detected one, but it seemed irregular. He started to shift the blankets off her.

  “No, leave her. My men are on the way.”

  “She needs an ambulance, a doctor.”

  “Believe me, we’ll take quicker and more thorough care of her.” Someone shouted from the front room. “In here!”

  Four men pushed their way into the room, two with scrubs underneath jackets, two with what turned out to be a fold-out stretcher. A woman followed them in. She went straight to Dean, guided him to the chair in the corner and started checking him over. The men in scrubs uncovered Christine and Jake finally saw the source of the blood. Her arm was mangled, though it looked as if she’d tried to wash the blood off at one point. What was left on her skin was a crusty brown, some of it oozing.

  “Lucky it didn’t hit a major vessel or she wouldn’t still be here,” one of the paramedics said.

  “Shocking it didn’t, the way everything’s shredded,” the other man said. “But the blood loss is severe.”

  Saron pulled Jake toward Dean to keep him from hovering over the paramedics. “Let them do what they need to and get her where she can be healed. Besides, your son needs you.”

  “How is he?” Jake asked the woman, who introduced herself as Dr. Navarro.

  “He’s a bit shocky, but with his constitution that should go away quickly.” Jake assumed she meant because Dean was were. “I imagine it’s his emotions that are most tender right now.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” Dean asked, his eyes on Christine as the men moved her onto the stretcher.

  Dr. Navarro answered. “The fact that she’s still alive is a good sign. No large vein or artery was torn. She would have died very quickly from that. And she didn’t die from shock. I’d say our main concern now is getting blood and fluids back in her and to wash out that arm and prevent infection.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Jake said, keeping his arm tight around his son’s shoulders.

  “Dad, I didn’t mean to hurt her. I don’t know what happened.”

  Jake moved so he could look directly into his son’s watery eyes. “This is not your fault, and Christine will understand that once she’s recovered and will say the same thing. I’ve got some complicated things to explain to you that I would have told you sooner if I’d known there was going to be a need to.”

  Saron walked up to them. “Even I didn’t know when or if this would happen in Dean’s case. I’m sorry.”

  Jake tried for a grin. “You just probably won’t want to tell your mom.”

  “I kinda figured that.”

  As they worked their way to the front of the apartment to go to whatever medical center Saron had lined up, a second wave of men and a couple women swept in. Judging by the buckets and mops, this was the cleaning crew.

  Jake hugged his boy again and prayed that he would feel Christine’s presence in his head soon.

  * * * * *

  “I bit her, Dad. Is she going to turn into one of us?”

  The doctor in the room answered. “No, for us it is a curse of genetics.”

  “You’re one of us?” Dean asked, amazed, sounding much younger than his years considering what he’d just been through.

  “Well, you and your dad are a bit rarer, since you are part human. We don’t know as much about you.” Dr. Navarro used the IV line to add more medicine to Christine’s comatose body.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we’re not as sure of onset. Adolescence, yes, but age, not exactly. If we’d known more about this, we could have made sure you and your dad were ready.” She glanced up at Jake. “It’s good for her to still be unconscious. We want all the meds working in her before she wakes up, especially the pain meds. And she’ll be pretty loopy when she does wake up.”

  “You’re sure…?” He didn’t say the rest—are you sure she’ll ever wake up? He tapped his son’s shoulder. “Hey, why don’t you find some food?” The single-story private medical center had a small cafeteria with vending machines at one end.

  Once Dean was out of the room, Dr. Navarro nodded. “She’ll need more surgery to repair nerve damage and possibly skin grafts, depending on how bad the scarring is.”

  “And the scarring will be bad?”

  “At first, but she’s a healthy young woman. I expect most of her wounds to clear up in a couple of weeks.”

  Jake was glad that Dr. Navarro was talking about Christine waking up and dealing with scars instead of a coma in the near future, but he was still doubtful. Why couldn’t he hear her in his head? Why couldn’t he sense her dreaming? Even when he’d dozed off, he’d felt as if he was on a trapeze reaching for her and missing the connection. He’d been too busy explaining things to Dean and calling his jobs and sorting things out with the medical center
to feel the widening chasm inside him, the piece of his soul that only a mate could fill. Only one mate per lifetime.

  Christine.

  “Really, Jake,” Dr. Navarro interrupted his spiraling thoughts again. “She will come out of this.”

  He slid his hand down his face. “I haven’t even contacted her parents yet.”

  Then Jake began thinking about the flip side of things. What if Christine woke up screaming? What if the pain was unbearable? What if she hated Dean or wanted to file assault charges? What if she hated Jake for bringing her into this mess? What if she got well, returned to Florida, and told him to never contact her again? She was a human woman and even if the attack had been confined to her arm, it had to leave a psychological scar as well.

  * * * * *

  She dreamed. She sensed that it had been some time that she hadn’t dreamed, that she’d been in some sort of stasis, confined and without voice, in between the real world and death. Now as she dreamed she had the sense that her body was repairing itself. Memories of herself as a girl with her parents in upstate New York surfaced, things she hadn’t thought about in years, like going to North Pole, New York, to meet Santa, snowball fights, jumping in piles of fall leaves, visiting Montreal.

  If she considered her memories the ocean, then the threatening bright red streaks came from the horizon. As if there was a horrible red fireball that simply hadn’t risen yet. But just when it seemed like that was going to happen, another dose of that cotton ball feeling hit her, blocking any red from view.

  She was vaguely aware of being watched and sometimes she thought she heard someone talking to her.

  Her memories jumped forward and skimmed over college years and jobs and breakups. Then she was in that cab in the snowdrift. He touched her and it felt so good. She felt so brave and adventurous.

  “You like pain.” His voice, her denial.

  But he’d taught her that pain could be a good thing, not something to be feared.

  “Where are you, Christine? Come to me!” The voice was very far away, behind the tightly packed cotton balls.

  Then she started to remember the scary things, flesh ripping, screams, wolf faces, blood, panic. The angry red streaks were burning away the cotton balls. A loud beeping was going off and she had the sense people were yelling about her.

  Ah, back to cotton candy land for a while.

  You like pain.

  Denial. Not this kind of pain.

  It’ll fade, and you’ll be on lots of drugs. She felt the humor, the warmth. It’s safe to wake up.

  The wolves will get me.

  Look closely, Christine. You know me. She saw his face, sexy, masculine, loving, but then the wolf’s face covered it.

  It’s eating you!

  Look again. It’s me.

  The faces exchanged and twined and she could see how they were different phases, different aspects of Jake.

  But then the memory of the other wolf surfaced, the face not completely formed but the teeth lacerating her skin. She couldn’t escape. Pain. Blood everywhere. Oh God, oh God…

  The angry red ball shot lasers at her arm, breaking the skin, letting all the pain through.

  “Christine, it’s okay. Let the drugs do their job.”

  She heard his actual voice now, not just an imaginary voice in her head.

  “You’re going to wake up soon, and you’re going to be okay.”

  * * * * *

  “Her parents are driving down this evening. I told them it was a dog bite.” Jake sipped from the coffee Saron had handed him without tasting it. Dean was asleep on the long couch in the waiting area, a much nicer waiting area than most hospitals had. “I’m just worried if they ask questions about the dog or where it happened. What if they want to sue the owner and I can’t even show them a real dog?”

  “We’ll tell them it was a stray in the park and that animal control put it down immediately. Keep it simple.”

  Jake nodded. He was physically drained, having stayed awake the entire time Christine had not dreamed. Once he felt her presence after thinking he’d never feel it again, then he could sleep. But it was uncomfortable sleeping in the waiting room or in the chair in Christine’s room, and his anxiety kept the sleep from being restorative. He’d been in a light doze, conversing with her in dreams when the heart monitor had trilled.

  “She’ll have differences in breathing and heart speed as she gets closer to consciousness, especially if she’s remembering anything about the attack,” Dr. Navarro explained to get Jake to settle down again.

  “How long has it been?” Jake asked Saron.

  “Less time than you think, but you’ve barely slept in thirty-six hours.”

  “Her parents will be here soon. What are they going to think of her being here and not in a regular hospital?”

  “This place specializes in dog bites, which we do actually. Well, wolf bites, close enough.” His smile was wry.

  “What if she wakes up and wants nothing to do with me and Dean?”

  “You’ll just have to give her time. Eventually the pull will be too much. She’ll have to come to you.”

  “But I don’t want her to come to me because she has to. There’s got to be some way to break the bond.”

  “None that I have found, but I will certainly help you search if it comes to that.” Saron paused. “Have you considered how brave and selfless she was with Dean?”

  “Of course.”

  “She didn’t run. She made sure he was secure. She didn’t call an ambulance for herself, which would have alerted the police. She gave him food and water.”

  “And she could’ve lost her arm.”

  “Yes. Christine is one brave woman, but I also think she cares for you both more than you may realize.”

  Jake was warmed by what Saron said. Maybe the situation wasn’t as desperate as it seemed. He mentioned these things to Dean when he awoke.

  “I know, Dad. I keep replaying the scene and thinking what if Mom had been there. She wouldn’t have known what to do. She would’ve called 9-1-1, and she might have been too freaked out to hold me during the pain.”

  “Christine held you?”

  “Yeah, Dad. She was there for me until it was almost too late. She’d be great to have as a stepmother.”

  Jake hugged his son. “Yeah, she would.”

  Saron, as hospital administrator, spoke to Christine’s parents first and admitted them in to see their daughter. Jake didn’t want to thrust the boyfriend issue in their face since they probably didn’t even know about the relationship. When they came out to the waiting room to regroup, Jake came up to them. Christine’s dad immediately recognized him.

  “What are you doing here? Aren’t you the cabby who drove into the snow bank?”

  Jake nodded with a faint smile. “I didn’t exactly drive into the snow bank, more like slid.”

  “We didn’t even know Christine was in New York.”

  “It was a sudden trip, actually,” Jake said. “She came up to watch my son for me.” He pointed out Dean, who was conversing with Saron at the far side of the room.

  “Why would she do that?” her dad asked.

  But Christine’s mom didn’t look quite as surprised. “Christine has mentioned you once or twice when we chat on Facebook in an open-ended kind of way.”

  “Oh okay then,” Mr. Vanliev said, brow furrowed as if he wasn’t quite sure that was true. “I’m the last to know these things. Were you with her when the dog attacked?”

  “No, since I was out of town. Dean was nearby but he didn’t see anything.” Jake hated the lies, but this was the way of life for the weres.

  “We’re just so grateful the doctor thinks she’ll wake up soon.”

  “I know she will.” Jake took the opportunity to go in and see her while her parents were getting food and reserving a hotel room with Saron’s help.

  * * * * *

  Christine could feel Jake’s presence, like a comforting shawl, something loose that didn’t sm
other her. She’d lost awareness of everything for a time, but Jake was there as soon as the world came back, as soon as she started to dream again. Dean had come in to see her once or twice. His guilt was palpable in his voice. Christine had wanted to hug him and tell him none of this was his fault. Jake’s sense of guilt was even stronger, and Christine might’ve been angry if she’d regained consciousness right away, but he’d been there in her dreams.

  She opened her eyes, noting the oxygen tube touching her nose and the IV in her arm, her good arm. “Jake?” God, her voice sounded awful.

  Suddenly his face was above hers with a half-smile-half-worried expression. “Here, you need water. Don’t talk yet.” He adjusted the bed position so she could drink from a plastic mug with a straw. “So…you scared the living shit out of me with that phone call the other night.”

  “You think you were scared!”

  His hand engulfed hers. “Dean and I both know you were brave beyond all. This could’ve turned out so much worse.”

  She tried not to think about her bandaged arm. “Sorry about the blood all over your apartment. Stupid neighbor came to the door. I had the TV up real loud so she complained.”

  “She didn’t see the blood?”

  “I didn’t open the door wide enough. Had the sound up so no one would hear Dean. Is he okay?”

  Jake had already made that clear to her in her dreams, but it was good to hear him say it. “Hey, I probably need to tell your parents you’re awake. I’ll come back in a little while, okay?”

  “Jake?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Dean helped me realize something.”

  “What?” She sensed his anxiety.

  “I love you guys.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, and for you my love is not platonic.”

  “But what makes you sure it’s not because of our bond?”

  “Because I never felt so strong before.” Ironic, since she’d probably never looked so weak in her life.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I thought being bound to you meant giving up my independence.”