by J. D. Tyler
His boots echoed strangely on the tile, giving him the disconcerting impression he was going to his own execution. Which was stupid, since the doctors were trying to help him. After another security checkpoint, he turned down another corridor toward Mac’s office.
In the lobby area outside the doctors’ offices and exam rooms, Noah was standing with a clipboard in hand, looking over some papers. Micah swallowed his pride and stepped up to him, not blaming the other man for eyeing him warily.
“Hey, I want to apologize again for what I did earlier. I snapped,” he admitted. “I’m not sure why I lost control, but I’m going to talk to Mac about it.”
“You’ll be honest with her?”
“Yes.”
The wariness faded, and Noah smiled a little. “Fair enough. I accept.”
“Are you all right?” Micah gestured to Noah’s chest. The nurse had put on a new shirt, hiding the cuts.
“Yeah, it was just a couple of scratches.”
He rolled his eyes. “Tell that to Nix. He threatened to kill me if I ever touched you again.”
Noah blinked. “Seriously? That’s funny, considering he won’t touch me at all.”
Oh, boy. “Listen, I’m no expert on much of anything where relationship stuff is concerned. But give him time, man. He thought he was straight all his life, you know?”
“And then I came along,” Noah agreed miserably. “Sometimes he’s so sweet, and the rest of the time he acts like I have the plague.”
Micah searched for a way to give the guy some perspective. “Say, imagine if you’d suddenly found out your Bondmate was a woman, and you’re gay. You never thought you were wired to have sex with her, but your wolf can’t stay away and you gotta boldly go where your little gay self hasn’t gone before.” Noah made a horrified face, and Micah laughed. “See? So give the poor bastard a break—you feel me?”
The nurse bit his lip and then nodded. “Okay, I’ll try harder, for Nix.”
“You’re doing fine. Just be patient.” Micah glanced toward Mac’s office. “I’m late. Guess I’d better get in there.” Micah offered the other man his hand, and they shook.
“Good luck.”
At the door to Mac’s office, Micah knocked. It was partly open, and he heard her call for him to come inside. He stepped in, closing the door behind him, unsure what to expect. She greeted him with her usual warm smile and pushed a lock of curly brown hair behind one ear.
“Micah. Sit down and tell me what’s been going on with you lately.”
“Have you spoken with Nick?”
“Should I have?”
Then he guessed the answer was no. He shrugged when inside he felt anything but nonchalant. “I’m having some trouble with my meds.”
Her face grew serious. “What seems to be the problem?”
“The doses are lasting for shorter and shorter periods of time, and I’m getting more and more . . . anxious. Easily upset. I’m taking more pills than I should,” he admitted. “And, frankly, I’m craving them.”
“I see.” She frowned. “Myst isn’t supposed to be a habit-forming drug. How long is the benefit lasting with each dose?”
“Maybe two hours.”
“That makes it seem hardly worth taking. Have you noticed any side effects?”
“Nosebleeds, sudden migraines, and mood swings. I, um, lost control and attacked Noah in the main building a couple of hours ago,” he said quietly, shame heating his cheeks.
Mac’s brows rose. “He didn’t mention it to me when he came in.”
“He said it was only a few scratches, but still. I can’t quite believe I lost it like that.”
The doc sat back in her chair and studied him for a moment. “Okay, one of two things is happening. Either myst is not compatible with your system, thus the nasty side effects, or you’re simply becoming inured to it and it’s not working anymore. Either way, those aren’t ideal scenarios. I’m going to order some blood drawn, run a few tests just to make sure nothing strange shows up. Zan stopped by after the demon attack and mentioned he thought he detected some sort of anomaly in your blood, so it’s best to look.”
Fantastic. “Okay.”
“How are you feeling, by the way? How’s your chest?”
“Sore, but healing.”
“All right. In the meantime, I want you to wean yourself off the meds gradually. Think you can do that?”
“I can try.” Knowing how bad his need for the drug had gotten, though, he had his fears. “Why not just go cold turkey?”
“I’d like to save that as a last resort. Even then you’d do that here, under supervision.”
“Like detox.”
“Yes. Stopping a drug suddenly can be dangerous because the body’s reactions can vary so greatly to the shock of withdrawal. We just don’t know enough about myst yet for me to allow you to detox on your own.”
“Fair enough.” Though he hated the idea of being placed in a hospital room. Maybe locked up for his own good, and others’. “I’ll try the weaning-off method.”
“I think that’s wise.”
“No other shifters have experienced problems with the drug except me?”
“None at our facility, but I’ll make some calls. We definitely have a few patients using myst, and you can bet we’ll be keeping a closer eye on them. It could be you’re one of the few unlucky shifters whose body isn’t taking well to the drug.” She lifted a sheaf of paper and studied some notes in his file. “We’ll continue counseling, though, and hopefully you won’t need another drug to help you cope. You’ve come a long way since you were first rescued.”
“Yeah.”
Mac paused. “Something else is eating at you. What is it?”
He stared at her. “How do you know?”
“You have a tell.”
“I do?” He tried to think what gave him away and came up with nothing. “What is it?”
Her lips curved up. “If I told, you’d stop doing it and ruin my powers of observation.”
“Damn.”
She sobered. “So, what’s wrong?”
“It’s not that it’s something that’s wrong per se, but . . . I’ve met my Bondmate.”
“You—your mate!” For the first time since he’d walked in, a huge, genuine smile spread across her face. “Micah, that’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
“Yes, absolutely. But it would be even more awesome if I wasn’t a drug-addicted head case! What if I hurt her like I almost did Noah this morning?”
If he did, he’d die. Just take himself out, quick and easy.
“We’ll make sure to get you well so that doesn’t happen,” she reassured him. “Besides, your wolf is wired to be even more protective of his mate than you are. I don’t think you’ll have to worry.”
“I hope not.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Who is she?”
“One of the bartenders down at the Grizzly. Her name’s Jacee Buchanan.”
“Jacee?” Mac got a funny look on her face.
“Yeah, why? You know her?”
“I’ve met her a few times when we’ve been in there. But no, I don’t really know her.”
Something in her tone gave him pause. “You don’t like her.”
“No, it’s not that at all. Believe me.”
“But?”
Mac sighed. “Let’s just say her presence will make things a little more interesting around here for a while.”
“What does that mean? How so? Wait—is it because she’s a coyote?”
“No, that’s not it, either. I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Jacee,” Mac said. “It’s really not my place to say anything.”
“That’s not fair, since you brought it up,” he muttered.
“I wanted to give you a heads-up, but I’m not jumping in the middle,” she said firmly. “Now, back to you. Any more nightmares lately?”
When Mac made up her mind, there was no changing it. So he gave in and told her about the most recent nightmare, of bein
g forced to torture the two eagle shifters. How he didn’t have a choice, or Bowman’s lackey would’ve chopped the female into pieces. Hell, he might have anyway, later on. Micah had no idea what had become of her, or any of them except Aric, who’d been rescued with him.
“The last time we spoke, you were convinced these dreams are actually repressed memories. Do you still feel that way?”
He nodded. “More than ever. I haven’t had any new memories while I’m awake, only when sleeping, but I feel like they’re right there, you know? As if the door’s already open a crack and soon they’re going to all come back.”
“If you’re feeling so strongly, it’s probably just a matter of time before they do come back. The question is, how are you going to be able to handle all of those memories swamping you if they all return at the same time?” She studied him closely.
He knew that look and could already guess what she was thinking. Micah was a ticking bomb, especially given his bad reaction to his antidepressant. The physical symptoms, and now the attack on Noah. On top of all that, he might remember the entirety of his months in captivity at any moment.
She was reconsidering the wisdom of hospitalizing him and not waiting for that bomb inside his head to go off, detonating not only himself but everyone in his kill zone.
“Doc,” he said, hating the pleading in his voice, “give me a chance to beat this on my own. You said yourself I’ve made good progress. I know it’s all coming to a head, but I can’t be locked up. My mate is out there, and she’s going to need me.”
His wolf whined just thinking about staring at four padded walls and being separated from his mate while he went completely insane. Got sick and died.
“We can bring her here to you, when the need for you two to mate becomes an issue.” But even she wasn’t happy with that plan any more than he was. It was obvious from her quiet voice and somber expression.
“And lock her up, too? No. I won’t have my mate become a prisoner when none of this is her fault. She deserves better. Please, Mac, I’m asking you not just as my doctor, but as my friend. Let me try to handle this first.”
She sighed. “You would have to pull the friend card.”
“I just want a chance. If I can’t deal, I’ll check myself in.”
“That’s just it—you might not be able to if it comes to that.” She fell silent, thinking.
Micah waited, deciding not to push further and risk having the doc dig her heels in. He did his best to appear compliant and harmless, accepting of whatever fate she doled out rather than quietly losing his mind.
Finally she gave a small laugh. “Relax. I’m still going to let you try to wean off the pills on your own, and we’ll continue counseling.”
“Thanks,” he said with gratitude.
“But one more incident like your attack on Noah and you’ll find yourself a guest here for a while.”
“Got it. I’ll do my best not to let anyone down.”
“It’s not about letting us down,” she said gently. “It’s about getting you well. Concentrate on that and the rest will fall into place.”
“I will. Thanks.”
They talked for a few more minutes. Then Micah stood and bid her good-bye. Noah was waiting to take him to an exam room, where he drew the blood samples and checked Micah’s vitals.
“That’s it. You’re ready to go,” Noah said, gathering the vials of blood. Before Micah could open his mouth, the nurse held up a hand. “And don’t apologize again. Let’s forget it and move on.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Smiling, he clapped Noah on the shoulder and took his leave. Belatedly, he wondered if that would count as “touching” the nurse in Nix’s eyes. He sure hoped not.
Making his way back to the main building, he pulled out his cell phone and gave in to temptation.
Hey, it’s Micah. You busy? he texted.
A few seconds later, Jacee’s reply came through. Nope. Just came in from the garden. About to shower.
You have a garden? What kind?
I do. I like making things grow. I have tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, and two types of peas.
Micah grinned. He liked the idea of Jacee digging around in the dirt, babying her little plants. Wow, I can’t even grow a cactus! I’m impressed.
Don’t be too impressed. I killed my row of corn last year. Ha!
Warmth spread through him. He also liked that she could laugh at herself. I thought you lived in town.
I do. It’s just a small garden. I only need enough for me, and the rest I put up in jars and give as gifts.
An uneasy feeling stirred inside him, and he struggled with how to respond. Well, you might not want to give all the rest away now. . . .
True. I may have a hungry wolf at my door very soon. ;)
The uneasy lump dissipated and he grinned to himself. I have a feeling you’re right. He paused. So, are we still on for tonight?
You bet, but why don’t you let me make you dinner instead of going out?
Was there anything not to like about this woman? Next time. I don’t want you working on our first date—let me treat you. Then maybe we’ll go for a run later.
Okay, that sounds great.
Cool, see you soon. Looking forward to it. :)
Me too. :)
“What in the ever-loving hell are you grinning about?” Aric drawled, stopping next to Micah in the hallway close to the recreation room. “Who are you texting?”
“None of your biz, bro-in-law. Take a hike, literally.”
“Is it that Jacee chick? The one you went all Mike Tyson on that asshole for last night?”
“What of it? Buzz off, Aric,” he said, getting annoyed at the derision in the other man’s tone.
“Come on, you hooking up with her now or something? I thought you had better taste than to get involved with that ho.”
Micah’s wolf roared to the surface, straining to be set free. White-hot anger sent the blood to his head, fangs and claws shooting forth. Only Mac’s promise to lock him up if he lost control again kept him from wiping the floor with the redheaded wolf. Yeah, mauling his own brother-in-law would accomplish that, quick.
“Jacee is my mate,” he said in a low, deadly voice. It was quite possible he’d never seen Aric pale that fast or look so sick.
“I— Say what, now? Your mate?” Aric looked around, clearly stunned. “Shit.”
Micah snarled, “Is it so fucking shocking that I could possibly have a Bondmate, especially a woman as gorgeous as her? Say what’s on your mind.”
“No, man.” Aric shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. When he met Micah’s angry gaze again, his words and expression were sincere. “You know me better than that. So what if you have scars? Nobody who matters will care about those.”
“Okay. Does this have to do with whatever Mac knows about Jacee that she won’t tell me?”
The other man held up a hand. “Listen. I do not want to get in the middle of this. I’m sorry for what I said about Jacee, all right? I had no idea she was your mate.”
“That shouldn’t matter. You have no right to talk like that about somebody, especially calling her a ho when you don’t really know her. I thought you were better than that.” Slowly he forced his wolf to recede. It wasn’t easy, his anger was so volcanic.
Aric winced and had the grace to look contrite. “You’re right. Judging people isn’t fair, and I should know better. I just want to point out that you don’t know her either yet.”
“Aric,” he warned.
“That’s all I’m going to say. Except you’re my brother and I care about you.”
The jerk would have to go and say something nice. “Thanks, but I can take care of myself.”
“Sure. Peace out. See you later.”
Frowning, Micah watched Aric go. Apparently, his friends had a preconceived opinion about Jacee that was less than complimentary. That pissed him off more than a little. They hadn’t even given her a chance. All things considered, he’d play things close
r to the vest when it came to telling the others about Jacee. At least until he could figure out what they were freaking out about—or Jacee told him herself.
After checking the time on his phone, he sighed. Hours to go before he could pick her up. Might as well make himself useful.
He couldn’t help but note the spring in his step, which hadn’t been there before.
* * *
Nick rubbed his eyes, tired.
Keeping a compound full of testosterone-driven shifters busy and out of trouble was more work that it seemed worth some days. Some more than others. Today he simply wanted to go back to the quarters he shared with Calla, take a long shower, and hit the bed early. Not like him at all.
But the visions were coming more frequently and in greater detail. Especially the one he’d seen moments ago and was still recovering from. The terrible one he’d warned Micah about. Closing his eyes, he thought back to recall every single thing, out of necessity.
Micah and Jacee Buchanan faced off in an unfamiliar bedroom. “What the fuck is this, Micah?” she shouted, shaking a small bottle in her fist. The contents rattled ominously between the couple. “You told me you’d stopped using! You lied to me, to your team!”
“Jacee, please—”
“Please, what? Give you another chance, and another, while I wait for the day one of your brothers comes to tell me you’re dead of an overdose? Or were gutted by the enemy because you were stoned during a fight?”
“No,” he denied, voice tight. “That won’t happen.”
“You need to go.” Looking defeated, she turned her back on him. “Now.”
“Baby, please. Don’t throw me away. I’ll get help. I’ll quit. Anything—”
“Now, Micah.”
She meant it. Micah had no right to stay, no grounds to defend himself. Taking a breath, he said, “I love you. That won’t change, ever. I’m always here if you need me or change your mind.”