A Shock to Your System (Dangerous Creatures #2)

by Mandy Rosko

  "I'm not dying, so relax. The sooner we get out of here the sooner I can put some bandage on."

  Jamie thought they should do it here, but then someone could drive by and see both vehicles on the road. A cop could pass by and stop to try and help. That was the last thing they needed.

  "Are you going to go, or what?" Ethan said as he leaned against the door, staring right at him. Jamie grumbled as he started the truck and drove off the rocky side of the two lane highway. He picked up his speed when he was on the road again, moving away from the city and not closer to it, like he probably should have.

  No. Actually, it was a certainty that he should be going back to the city. Wasn't that what any decent human being would do? What the hell did that make him since he wasn't turning around and driving Ethan to a hospital? Ethan might not want to take the risk of Jamie getting turned in because he “owed him” or whatever, but Jamie could still dump him off at the front doors and be out of there before anyone thought to question him.

  "Where are my weapons?" Ethan asked after about five minutes of driving. They were still not headed towards the city.

  Jamie was not worried about how low and tired Ethan sounded. Not at all.

  Well, maybe a little.

  "I don't know. Most of them were still on you when I put the net over you. I should've taken them. I guess those three assholes did before I chased them off."

  Ethan made a noise in the back of his throat, as if he didn't quite believe what Jamie had told him. Jamie didn't care. He so didn't care.

  They drove for another twenty minutes. Jamie made sure to keep to the speed limit exactly, and he was stunned when he wasn't pulled over anyway because of the guilty vibe he was giving off. Something as powerful as that had to be tickling the ears of every highway traffic cop for a hundred miles, but no sirens sounded and no one chased after them. Hell, there weren’t even any other cars on the road.

  Jamie was continually glancing to the side, getting a look at how much worse Ethan was becoming. His color had turned from a pale, nearly white, to a sickly green. Whatever tiny bit of recovery Ethan had gained was now gone.

  The green especially freaked him out. Jamie couldn’t decide if it was better or worse than being pale and pasty like chalk.

  Jamie couldn’t do this. “We've got to stop."

  "Keep going. Not far enough away from the city yet."

  "I should've taken you back to the city!" Jamie snapped. As much as he didn't care about Ethan, and in spite of Ethan insisting that he wasn't dying, Jamie wasn't entirely convinced that he didn’t need medical help. What if Ethan was wrong and he did die? What if Ethan keeled over right beside Jamie because he hadn't brought him to the hospital like he should have? "There's fucking hospitals all over the place! Christ, what the hell are we doing all the way out here?"

  Jamie was losing it. He didn't like that helpless feeling that came with a panic attack, and this was totally a panic attack. His heart raced like he was running beside this truck instead of driving it. He felt like he couldn't suck back a proper breath of air and it put a sharp pain in his ribs that he could hardly contain. He should probably pull over since that didn't make for safe driving, but Ethan was still bleeding and he was clearly getting worse. The fear that he was dying was worse than the fear of being in an accident.

  "I put you on the radar," Ethan said, sounding more and more breathless. "If you try and take me to a hospital, and a camera catches sight of you, or even if we get pulled over by a cop, then you're done. You won’t be able to sneak away or lie your way out of it.”

  Fuck. ”So what do we do?" Jamie asked. "Pull up in some shitty motel that'll take cash and no ID and hide out until you're better?"

  Ethan didn't answer him.

  “Ethan?”

  Jamie briefly took his eyes off the road to look over at the man, and Ethan's head was lolled against the window. His eyes were shut and pale lips lightly parted.

  "Ethan?" Jamie asked again, and high-voltage terror nearly paralyzed him. "You'd better be resting your eyes. Ethan!"

  Still no answer. Jamie's panic flared. "You fucking asshole. Don't you dare die on me!" Jamie snapped, and he stepped on the gas, wanting to get anywhere safe that he could look the man over and make sure he was still breathing.

  Chapter Four

  The immediate stinging pain was the first thing he was aware of. Ethan groaned as he woke up. He wanted to fall back into that sleeping state where his brain didn’t know how uncomfortable and agonizingly painful his legs and chest were. His entire body was cold and itched like he was infested with crabs, fleas and ticks all at the same time. There were patches on his chest and legs that especially tingled, but it was mostly on his back and on the backs of his legs where he itched. His chest and the front of his body was mostly chilled, like his sister had put her hand on his shoulder and forgot to turn down the ice.

  Someone walked around him. He could hear the swift footsteps getting closer, and he knew who it was before a word was spoken.

  "Holy God. You fricken' jerk. You unbelievable asshole."

  Jaime was as eloquent as ever. Ethan had missed hearing that mouth saying dirty things to him. Too bad the man wasn't in bed with him.

  Still, he couldn’t help but smile. “Hi Jamie," Ethan was so damned drained that it took him a second to open his eyes even after he woke up.

  When he did open his eyes, Jamie was sitting beside him in a chair that had been placed next to the bed that Ethan was lying on.

  For a split second, his heart stalled as he thought Jamie had actually brought him to a hospital, but then he realized that the faded and flaky floral wallpaper, along with the dirty burgundy carpet, meant that he was definitely not in a sterilized room.

  "Did you actually get us a motel room?" Ethan asked. Even with a stiff neck he managed to look around the small space, and smile at how ridiculous the situation was.

  All they needed now was for Jessica to get here and whip them up a snow storm. They would be trapped inside and forced to work out their feelings like in a romance novel.

  Fucking was also a romance novel staple, wasn’t it? He hoped so, especially if it would be the kinky shit women were reading nowadays too.

  “Nice,” he said without meaning to, thinking on how awesome it would be if he could get Jamie a little closer.

  "Not as nice as the one we used when we first met, but the kid at the front was young enough that I was able to bribe him to give us a room without ID or credit cards,” Jamie replied, not knowing what Ethan had really been talking about.

  "Uh huh, how much did you bribe him with?"

  "Most of what was in your wallet," Jamie answered.

  It shouldn't have been funny, but it was. It was so damned funny that Ethan started to laugh. The instant pain that shocked through him and pulled at his wounds wasn't enough to stop him either.

  Jamie frowned at him in that wide-eyed way people pulled off when they were looking at someone who was insane. "That wasn't a joke, you know. I stole pretty much all of your cash to get us this room.”

  "I know," Ethan said, and he kept on laughing. The laughter wasn't as strong anymore, but he still had trouble catching his breath.

  His laugh must have been infectious because soon enough Jamie joined in with him, shaking his head. “Idiot,” he muttered.

  It was so normal and familiar that it took Ethan a couple of seconds to realize why this was odd. They were laughing together, as if they were back at their favorite bar and had just shared a joke. It felt great, but all things considered, probably not what they should've been doing.

  The situation was serious. They were on the run and Jamie was now in the system. There wasn't anything funny about this.

  The laughter came to a sudden and abrupt halt, as if both of them realized that very same thing at the same time. They both just looked at each other.

  The silence was thick. Yeah, there wasn't anything remotely awkward about this at all. Ethan sure as hell didn't know what to
say, and if the tiny flush of pink on Jamie's neck and cheeks was anything to go by as he looked away, neither did he.

  Jamie had a cute shy look. It had been one of the things that had attracted Ethan to him, especially since Jamie’s throat and face turned that same shade of pink whenever Ethan had been inside of him.

  Ethan shifted, reaching out to him, but then groaned as he was reminded of his pain when a sharp sword stabbed him in the gut.

  "Fuck!" Every wound on him flared and burned hot now that he'd just finished shaking with laughter. He didn't feel like laughing anymore, and the dour situation had nothing to do with it.

  Jamie stood up in an instant. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so. Just shocked myself.”

  Gingerly, Ethan lifted the thin, tough blanket to have a look at himself.

  He was naked with the exception of his black boxers, which explained the itch if most of his skin was touching this scratchy blanket, and there were bandages all over him. They wrapped around him in all the places where he'd been ripped open by that psycho girl. The crazy look in her eyes gave away that she had liked doing that to him. Who knew how many people she’d done it to before getting caught. An ability that wasn’t exactly like a vampire or a werewolf; it wasn’t obvious to the people around her unless she used it out in the open.

  Ethan thought of Jamie just then, imagining him in Allison's place. Jamie as the torturer, letting currents of high-powered electricity shock through his victim like a taser. Ethan pictured Jamie with that same desperate need for revenge. Abuse happened in the labs, but it wasn't common. The paranormals were fed and clothed even as they were studied. They were kept safe from themselves and everyone else.

  But if Jamie had ever been made to feel as Allison had, would he have been driven to the same kind of reaction? Ethan tried to picture it, and even when he got the visual, it didn't feel like something Jamie could do. It didn’t fit. Jamie wouldn’t torture another person.

  But he had still sucked the power out of several city blocks, even if—according to Jamie—that had been a complete accident. Could he then accidentally hurt someone?

  Jamie had apparently gotten tired of Ethan’s silence. “So, you’re fine? Is there blood coming through your bandages?”

  The man leaned in to have a look. Ethan pulled the covers back as fast as a shy virgin, before he could see anything.

  “Fine. I’m fine,” Ethan said, clearing his throat.

  Jamie gave him a look.

  “I’m seriously fine,” Ethan said, pleased with how controlled he kept his voice this time.

  Jamie eyed him for a little while longer before shrugging and sitting back down. “Okay, but you'd better be grateful.”

  "For what?" Ethan asked.

  Jamie’s arms were crossed and one of his ankles was over his knee. He turned away from Ethan, frowning at the browning floral wallpaper.

  He was always a little extra sexy when he was irritated. “Jamie, for what?” Ethan asked again.

  Jamie stared at him with wide eyes just then. "Seriously? How about for dragging your ass out of there, and then bringing you here so I could stitch you up. I've never given stitches to anyone before in my life. It was so gross. I'm never going to look at you the same way again."

  Ethan had already figured he'd been stitched up. He'd felt them pull as he laughed.

  Ethan had planned on stitching himself with the first aid kit in his truck. Jamie must've found it and taken matters into his own hands. While he was grateful for the medical care, hearing that Jamie had never stitched another person before made Ethan want to get a look at exactly what the man had done to him.

  He lifted the blanket again and reached down to the bandages on his chest and stomach. They were tight, but he still managed to lift them enough to get a look at the stitch work.

  "It's not bad," he said, genuinely impressed before looking up at the man, who still wasn't looking back at him. "Thought you never did it before?"

  Jamie shrugged. "I didn't, but I've taken some first aid classes, and watched enough videos online, in case I ever needed to tend to myself."

  Ethan’s heart muscle actually felt like an invisible hand had squeezed it when he heard that. Jamie said it so casually. Of course he had expected to be injured at some point in his life, and be unable to go to a hospital for treatment.

  Ethan didn't know what to say to that, so he turned his attention back to his wounds. Better to focus on the physical pain, than to think of Jamie and feel his heart do more of that painful squeezing.

  He checked as much as he was able to without stretching the bandages too much or taking them off altogether.

  The stitches were neat and clean. Ethan still winced at the mess Allison had made of his flesh. Even without seeing it all, he could feel it. The way Allison had cut him open was going to leave him with crooked scars, and he could even make out a few stretch marks where she had tried to rip him open, but didn't have the chance before Jamie intervened.

  Jamie came back for him, and every time Ethan thought about that, his throat closed.

  Had the tears in his skin not been so bad, he might've been able to heal without scarring thanks to how good Jamie's stitch work was. That was another good quality in Jamie’s corner.

  Ethan didn't consider himself a vain type of guy. He took care of himself and everything, but physical appearances weren't his thing. Hell, he already had a couple of scars from a few of the bad tussles he'd gotten into with paranormals.

  This was different. He would be scarred all over, and none of them would be endearing or hard to notice. These would be ugly as fuck, and visible from a hundred feet away. They would remind him forever of that horrible experience, and how Jamie had risked his life and freedom to come back for him.

  Positive side. He was going to look on the positive side. "It's really good. You did a really good job. Maybe the scarring won't actually be so bad."

  There. He'd done it. Positive was his middle name.

  "It looks like shit," Jamie said. He sounded irritated. It wasn't as if he was the one who'd taken the abuse and was going to be scarred. "Fuck, I bet any scars you have are going to be worse now."

  "They would look great if the...cuts weren't so bad," Ethan said. He was just going to call them cuts. That word didn't make a shiver run up his spine and vomit catch in his throat.

  Jamie didn't say anything at all for a few minutes. Was he really that upset about it? Glee swelled up inside of Ethan that Jamie cared enough to be upset on his behalf, even though it was completely stupid.

  "I was reading up on first aid," Jamie said suddenly, and Ethan looked at him. The man squirmed in his seat, as if he was so embarrassed. "I never took any official courses for it or anything, but in theory I can do CPR, and now I have some experience with stitches."

  "Yeah, you already told me that," Ethan said. If Jamie was trying to make Ethan feel continuously guilty for trying to catch him and turn him in, then it was working. Definitely working.

  Jamie shook his head. His eyes flicked from Ethan, to the brownish flower wallpaper, and back again. "It doesn't matter. It's not the same as a real doctor. I should've taken you to a hospital when you passed out, but I didn't. I brought you to a motel room that doesn't even look all that clean, and I gave you stitches in here. You should be hugely pissed off at me. I should've..."

  Jamie trailed off, like he didn't know what else to say. The way he bit down on his lower lip and shook his head, scowling at nothing, said enough.

  The worst part about it all was that exact look on his face. It was the kind of look someone had when they weren't thinking nice thoughts about themselves.

  "I told you not to bring me to the hospital," Ethan said. "That was my choice."

  "It doesn't matter. I still should've brought you!" Jamie snapped. "What the hell kind of asshole am I, that I don't bring my boyfriend to the damned hospital?"

  Jamie instantly clamped his mouth shut when he spoke those words, and his face turned a
bright red.

  And holy shit, Ethan couldn't blame him. Jamie had never referred to him as a boyfriend before. They hadn't been together long, less than a week with a couple nights of mind blasting sex thrown in. Besides, they had fun together outside of the bedroom too.

  Still, Jamie thought of Ethan as his boyfriend? Well, fuck, now Ethan felt like an even bigger dick for trying to bring Jamie in.

  "Why save me at all?" Ethan asked, eager to talk about something else.

  Jamie glanced at him, and his lips thinned, as if he was trying to strengthen his resolve after an embarrassing reveal.

  Too bad for him. Ethan pressed on. "Seriously, I want to know. Why bother? We barely know each other, and I was chasing you down with the intent of turning you in. You couldn't have liked me that much."

  Ethan’s throat felt like it was closing again once the words were out of his mouth.

  Jamie glared at him. "No one deserves to be tortured like that. That chick was crazy."

  Ethan had to agree. "I guess she escaped from one of the labs. There are probably already hunters and collectors out there tracking her down."

  He suddenly thought of all the extra footprints in the area he and Jamie had left behind. Not to mention he'd called it in that he was chasing down a paranormal.

  Jamie's license plate number would be taken for sure. Even though it would likely be assumed that Ethan had captured and had boxed him for shipment, when he didn't get back to Head Office, or put in a call to the collectors to pick Jamie up, they would start looking for him. They might already be looking just to make sure Ethan was all right. Head Office did check in with hunters when paths crossed like that, after all.

  He couldn't let them find Jamie.

  "What did you do with my truck?" he asked.

  "It's parked outside. Why?"

  "That's not a safe place for it," Ethan said. "When it gets out that I'm missing, other hunters will start looking for it. They could scan the license plate and know it belongs to me. They'll wonder why I'm out of the city and parked in a motel lot."