“Not really.”
Good. He was holding up well.
“Cassie said you weren’t supposed to contact me?” he asked.
Her mouth quirked. “You encountered me, if I remember correctly.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
Cassie broke in. “The commander can’t make it here in time. Jace got the leader of the ring, but the second-in-command is missing. They think he was the contact for Jenna.”
“Who?” Armana saw where Cassie was looking. “Oh.”
Gray’s legs were done and he started stomping his feet and flexing his muscles to get blood moving. She went to his hands.
Cassie stood. “He said we need to get out of here. They’ll be more intent on revenge than ever before.”
“Find the keys to the van.” Armana ripped and snapped until Gray’s hands were free.
He stood slowly, wincing at his stiffness. The inactivity after his race was taking its toll.
Armana twined her arm through his and led him to the van, but he pulled her off course. Cassie was patting down Jenna. He circled the van.
“Tony was the driver,” he said.
They riffled through Tony’s clothing until Armana found the keys in his pants pocket.
She was about to call to Cassie when the sound of an engine broke through the quiet industrial park. Dammit, what were the chances it was some contractor going to a nearby warehouse do some paperwork on a Saturday?
The engine stopped in front of their warehouse.
“Get in the van,” Armana ordered.
She pulled Gray with her around the van. He got inside with Cassie and she let him shut the door as she ran around the front.
The overhead garage door flew open. Two burly males were in the opening, both holding rifles.
Shifters. She couldn’t take two armed shifters. Armana dove into the driver’s seat and fired up the engine.
The males opened fire. Flinging the gearshift into reverse, Armana stomped on the gas and turned the wheel to aim for the shifters.
The van shook as it was peppered with bullets. They sprayed the vehicle. Armana ducked as low as she could. Glass shattered. She grunted as one bullet ripped through the front seat into her.
She gritted her teeth against the searing pain. Nothing vital was hit. The shifters scattered and bullets quit flying. As soon as she was clear of the warehouse, she shoved the van into drive and floored it.
The wheels screeched and laid a black strip on the asphalt. Air whistled through the holes and broken windows.
Fire wicked up her side, but she’d only been hit once. Blood bloomed through the cab. It wasn’t just hers. Sweet Mother Earth.
“Everyone all right?” She couldn’t look behind her or she’d careen off the road at the speed she was going.
Cassie’s voice was muffled. “Dad?” Pain filled that word. “Dad!”
Cold washed through Armana. Gray’s blood stained the air.
“Gray?” She kept her eye on the rearview mirror as she watched the road. The shifters were in pursuit.
“Dad.” Cassie grunted. Armana spared a look. It was worse than she’d feared.
Gray had covered Cassie. He’d had no idea. He was doing what any loving father would do. He wouldn’t know that Cassie’s bond with Jace would heal her wounds.
“How bad?” Armana asked. She took a hard turn and Cassie cried out in pain.
“I’ll be fine. One hit my thigh.” Her voice was tight with agony. “Dad—he’s—blood everywhere.” A sob escaped.
Armana clenched her jaw. Commander?
Was she close enough to him yet?
“Do you have the phone, Cassie?”
“Um…I don’t…I don’t know.” The normally calm and collected Cassie was barely hanging in there. “We need to get him to a hospital. His pulse is weak.”
No. They couldn’t. As soon as they slowed down, the shifters pursuing them would finish them off. They weren’t concerned about raising suspicion about their kind and wouldn’t hesitate to follow them into a hospital parking lot and hurt other innocents to get to them.
But would Doc have the capability to save him? He was stocked for a lot, but not for plain humans who might need life support. She had to try. Gray would have the protection of the Guardians.
“What injuries can you see, Cassie?” Armana swerved but didn’t dare get too wild. It’d be hard on Gray and they could crash. Commander?
Dammit, he didn’t answer, and Cassie was too busy with her dad. Please be okay, Gray. I can’t lose another person I love. The thought came out of nowhere.
What’s going on? the commander’s voice filtered through her mind. Had he heard that?
Two males arrived and opened fire. Cassie and I are hit, and Gray is hurt and unconscious. I think he’s bleeding out. We’re in a white van heading toward the lodge. The shifters are in a dark blue SUV and they’re going to get more aggressive the farther out of town we get.
I’m on the highway. When you see us, give it all the gas you can. We’ll get between you and them.
Who was with him? They have assault rifles.
So do we. I’ll tell Doc to expect you.
Good to know. “How’s Gray?” She was going to ask Cassie that every minute.
“He’s hardly breathing.” Cassie sniffled. “I’m trying to stop the blood, but there’s so much.”
“We’re almost there.”
“Why aren’t you going to the hospital?”
“Cassie—”
“Armana! I don’t care about shifter politics.”
Cassie’s assumption that Armana was choosing politics over Gray stung. She didn’t care about the logistical cleanup going to a human hospital would require; the Guardians would take care of any mess with the humans. It didn’t help she was worrying she’d made the wrong decision.
“Cassie,” she tried again. “I care about getting pulled over. Do you think a police chase, or worse, stopping to get pulled over and suffering a drive-by shooting, would help Gray? We need to get to Doc.” A hospital would be the best thing for him, but it was also the quickest way to lose him.
The pursuers accelerated, attempting to creep up beside her, but Armana swerved enough to make it too difficult. Cassie was murmuring to Gray. Armana hated the shifters behind her for hurting Gray and for keeping her from being by his side.
This was the third time she’d been tossed into Gray’s life and couldn’t just be with him. That was all she wanted. What she did for a living, where her home was, she didn’t care. With him, she was where she wanted to be. She hadn’t had that kind of peace in her life in a long time.
Armana jerked the wheel to the right, harder than she intended. The van careened down into the ditch. She eased it back up, the vehicle jumping and jostling.
“Stop!” Cassie pleaded. “I can’t keep pressure on him if we’re jumping around.”
Hopelessness swelled. The work van couldn’t win a race with a car and she hadn’t spotted the commander. She couldn’t seem to keep from hurting Gray, and she wasn’t going to be able to save him.
Chapter Seventeen
Armana checked the mirrors. A car was coming. Not the commander. The two they’d already passed on the highway were the only things that had saved them from getting run off the road and crashing into a tree.
The shifters chasing them had a shred of self-preservation. A human calling the cops would hinder them as much as it’d risk Gray’s life.
The car passed. The shifters hit the gas.
They were getting close to the turn-off point for the back roads to the lodge. That also meant the terrain got hillier and no amount of gas was going to make this wad of metal go faster.
The van got rammed.
Cassie cried out and Armana jerked forward. Gray wasn’t going to survive if they kept doing that. The car was so close, the driver’s steely gaze was clear in her rearview mirror.
So was the passenger opening the window t
o lean out with a rifle.
Sweet Mother Earth. She and Cassie could sustain more bullet wounds, but Gray couldn’t, and Cassie wouldn’t be able to care for him.
She crested the hill. A black SUV flew toward them.
Armana let out an unexpected whoop.
Alex was hanging out of the back driver’s window, a round metal cylinder on her shoulder. As soon as the commander cleared the van, the shifters swerved and careened into the ditch. A blast echoed, rattling the van like a giant soda can.
The car flipped when the round from the…whatever Alex was using hit it. Flames erupted from inside. If the shifters got out, Alex could pick them off. Or they’d go down with their ride. Either way, Armana didn’t have to worry about them anymore.
The scene disappeared behind her. Armana kept going, but she couldn’t breathe a sigh of relief. “How is he?”
“He’s fading fast. There’s so much blood.”
Armana tightened her grip on the wheel. “Turning. Brace yourself.”
She slowed as much as she dared. They hit the gravel and she increased the speed. Trees flew by and the road was empty. Within minutes, the lodge stretched before them, offering all the hope Armana could fantasize about.
Would Doc be able to work a miracle?
As if her thoughts conjured him, Doc strode out of an open garage door, pushing a cot draped with a white sheet.
Why white? So she could see Gray’s life draining from him?
She didn’t slam on the brakes but eased to a stop. Doc maneuvered the cart to the side door and shrugged off the jump bag he’d slung over his shoulder. Armana hopped out and ran to him. Doc had the door open and had crawled inside by the time she got there.
He kneeled at Gray’s head and Cassie hadn’t moved from his side. Gray’s skin fit his name. Ashen. And blood. So much blood a human couldn’t spare.
Cassie’s top was stained red and her leg was stuck out straight like it’d cramped that way. Streaks of Gray’s blood on her face were smudged with tears, and her hair was shoved in all directions.
Armana met Cassie’s watery gaze. The terror inside mingled with an acceptance that broke her heart.
“No.” Armana’s voice cracked. She lifted herself inside and inched to Gray’s side.
Doc’s heavy gaze was enough. “I’m sorry. He needs blood. All the saline in the world won’t stabilize him.”
Cassie grabbed Doc’s arm. “C-can I give him mine?”
“Mine as well.” Armana scooted closer. Her fingers found Gray’s cool ones, sticky with his blood.
Doc’s expression fell. “He can’t heal like us. It’d leak out as fast as I could get it into him.”
“There’s got to be something we can do.” Cassie’s fingers dug into Doc’s skin; he didn’t flinch. “He can’t die. I’m not ready for him to die.”
Gray’s fingers were limp. Armana squeezed them. Her own pain resonated with Cassie’s.
He can’t heal like us.
What if… What if Gray was one of them?
No. She couldn’t.
But some widows and widowers had found another mate.
Gray was unconscious. He couldn’t decide for himself. This didn’t fall under a medical power of attorney.
“I could…” She tried to force herself to quit talking. Could she forgive herself if she didn’t toss the idea out there? “I could mate with him.”
Cassie’s gaze pinned her. Doc’s brows rose and he leaned back as if he wanted nothing to do with the decision.
Cassie blinked. “You’d do that?”
“More importantly, would he do that?” Armana waited. She couldn’t make this choice alone. It was tampering with someone’s life, how they lived it, who they lived it with. She and Gray would be connected until one of them died.
Biting her lip, Cassie spared a glance at her dad. “You’re Amy.”
An explanation hovered on Armana’s tongue, but all she said was “Yeah.”
“Do it.”
“We need the gladdus,” Doc said. He didn’t argue, and his expression was resolved, as if he’d decided it wasn’t his consequence to deal with and he wasn’t going to hinder saving a life. “One of you needs to find one and one of you needs to stay and be a blood donor or he won’t make the ceremony.”
“I have one.” Armana leaped out of the van.
She sprinted through the lodge to her room. Grabbing hers from on top of her dresser, she spun out of the room and ran back to Gray. As she cleared the garage she yelled, “Can you do the ceremony?”
Doc nodded, busy hooking his rigged tubing to a needle protruding from Cassie’s arm. He unwrapped the other end and stuck the needle into Gray’s neck. Red flooded the clear plastic.
Armana skidded into the van and slapped the dagger on the floor by Doc’s knee. The four of them were crowded in the van. It’d be an intimate ceremony, with ramifications Armana couldn’t stop to think about.
She lifted Gray’s hand and looked at his face. His jaw was slack, his eyes closed. The dark lashes rimming his eyes were stark against his cheek. She couldn’t stand to see him without his vitality and easy smile.
“Do it,” she said, mimicking Cassie’s earlier words.
Doc stumbled through the ceremony. When he got to spots where he couldn’t repeat the right phrase, Cassie filled him in. Armana shot her a small smile. Cassie had been the most recently mated out of all of them.
When it came time to clasp hands for the blood exchange, Doc inserted the blade between her palm and Gray’s.
“Wait.” Armana slipped her other hand around Gray’s. She might be using the same dagger that had mated her and Bane, but she couldn’t overwrite the mark left behind.
Doc nodded, his eyes full of understanding. He’d lost his mate, too. Armana inclined her head to let him know she was ready.
The cut was quick. A flash of pain, replaced by warmth spreading out from where their hands were connected.
“It’s done,” Doc said. He cleaned the blade and put it back into the box. Next, he disconnected Gray and Cassie. Blood would help speed healing, but Cassie had her own injuries to mend. Armana didn’t move. Neither did Cassie.
Doc packed his things. “We need to transfer him to the infirmary. He has a long road ahead and it’d be better if he were clean and comfortable when he woke.”
Woke to find his life irrevocably changed against his will. Armana stiffened.
Cassie wiped her face. “Yeah. I guess we’ll have some explaining to do.”
Armana blew out a heavy breath. There was a line of people to come clean to. “To more than just your dad.”
She was mated. Again. As they dragged and lifted Gray to the cot, memories of her first mating ran through her mind.
It’d been spring. Not the end of summer. She’d been jubilant, conceited even. Nothing was going to destroy her happiness. She had mated a strong male that she was crazy about and they were going to rule together. The day had been all about her as she’d danced around the campfire and showed him off.
She brushed her fingers along Gray’s salt and pepper hair as Doc wheeled him to the infirmary. From arrogance to shame. She’d claimed a man’s life without his knowledge, and she still couldn’t convince herself it’d been the right thing to do. Just like she couldn’t bring herself to regret not letting his life slip away.
Would he be able to forgive her?
***
Dull, throbbing pain racked his body. Gray didn’t open his eyes right away. Fatigue weighed on him like he’d run a half marathon a day for weeks.
He groaned and turned his head but kept his lids shut. Tentatively, he inhaled. His chest was tight, but his gut clenched. Had he done an ab workout he didn’t remember?
The stiffness in his legs was to be expected. He had just finished a race—
His race. Images bombarded his mind. Cassie. Jenna. A van. Amy— Armana.
His eyes flew open. Amy was Armana.
He remembered Armana. Cassie had said his
memories were bound.
Blinking against the dim overhead light, he tried to sit up.
That was a no-go. Warm hands gently pressed on his shoulders and the most delicious scent filled his nose. He glanced from the light to the person settling him back down.
“Armana.”
She smiled, but it was tight. Her shoulders were tense, but her gaze was relieved. How did he notice all these details?
Like her pale eyes and how they darkened with any emotion other than happiness. Her fresh spring-breeze scent. Had she switched shampoos?
Armana was Amy. She’d dated him, then devastated him. Now he knew why. All the information was there.
They’d been trapped in the warehouse. That was the last he remembered.
“Those guys,” he croaked.
“Dead,” Armana answered. “You’re in the lodge. You were shot four times.”
He jerked up again, but Armana held him down. He was as weak as a toddler. Flopping on his back, he ignored the protest in his joints.
“We didn’t expect you to wake this early.” She turned from him, and he mourned the loss of her heat.
He frowned. He’d been stripped of his clothes. Where had he been shot? Must’ve been all over.
Water tinkled from the other side of her, though it was as if he had earbuds streaming the noise straight to his eardrums. The sound was crisp, just like her scent, but not nearly as pleasing.
Wait, if he’d been shot in the van— “Cassie? Was she hurt?”
Armana spun back to him, a wet rag clutched in her hands. Was she washing him? “She’s healed already, and she’s right outside with Jace. We have a lot to talk about.”
There was shuffling outside the door. He reached down to make sure he was covered before the heavy metal door swung open.
Cassie rushed in first. Her smile was wide, but like Armana, the underlying tension couldn’t be hidden. Jace and Commander Fitzsimmons filed in behind her.
“What’s wrong?” He was concerned about his daughter. Anxiety radiated from her.
The commander crossed his arms and leaned against the stark white counter. He nodded to Armana. “You might as well explain it all while I’m here.”
The commander reminded Gray of himself when Cassie was four. She’d unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper into the toilet and flushed. Then flushed again when it wouldn’t go down. She’d run and Gray had stepped, literally, into the mess. He’d stood just like the commander when he’d demanded an explanation.
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