by Lia Silver
Roy grabbed her hands, squeezing tight. Maybe it was his imagination, but they felt colder than usual. “You’re going to make it. I did, and you will too. I’ll coach you through it. In a safe place. The last thing you need is for Gregor to sneak up on you when you’re trying to change.”
Laura nodded, biting her lip. Lemon juice. Acid. “Okay.”
“On second thought, don’t walk. You should save your strength. I’ll carry you.”
“But I—But you—” Laura broke off in a startled squeak as Roy scooped her out of the car, cradling her to his chest, and set off quickly through the forest.
“Aren’t I too heavy?” Laura asked.
“Obviously not.” Roy meant to be supportive, but it came out brusque. The idea that she’d be thinking of her weight at a time like this made his eyes sting with unshed tears. He took a deep breath, forcing them back. He had to be strong for her.
I’m in the cold clear place, he told himself. I’m the hands and eyes of my SAW.
He blinked, and was relieved to feel that his eyes were dry.
“I have to tell you what happened,” Laura said. “I don’t know how much time I have while I can still talk.”
Quickly, she summarized what had happened and what she’d learned. Roy had to force himself to concentrate on what she was saying and away from the thought that she was so alive and warm and soft in his arms now, breathing easily and talking to him, and that soon that would change and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.
He felt as if he was in the nightmare where he knew where the bomb was, but he was mute and paralyzed, unable to warn his squad as they walked toward their doom. He could do nothing but watch them stride forward, their bodies whole and strong, and know that in a minute they’d be blown to bits, and even the ones who survived would never be the same again.
“So maybe all you need is to find DJ,” Laura concluded. “Roy, are you listening? It might fix everything for you!”
“Who cares about me?” Roy blurted out.
Twigs snapped under his feet. He heard birds chirping, leaves rustling, and Laura’s breathing and heartbeat. He heard his own breath, starting to show the strain of running with her in his arms. There was no true silence. But Roy felt the absence of human voices like a hole in the air.
“I do,” Laura said.
He heard the pain in her voice and knew it had nothing to do with her injury. How could she care enough about him to be hurt by the thought that he didn’t care about himself, when she might be dying?
“I only meant that this isn’t the time to worry about me,” Roy said. “I’ll be excited later, okay? Right now I can’t think about anything but you.”
Laura looked up at him searchingly, her honey-brown gaze intent on his face. “Roy—”
“How do you feel?”
“The same.” Laura shrugged, her shoulders flexing against his arms. “I keep imagining that maybe I feel something, but…”
“You don’t feel different at all?” Roy had instantly known that he’d been changed forever. “Can’t you sense that part of you is a wolf?”
“I don’t think so?”
“You’d know.” Roy had no idea what it meant that she couldn’t feel her wolf. She wasn’t capable of changing and she’d die? Gregor had failed to infect her and she wasn’t in danger after all?
“Let’s say I do change,” Laura began.
“You will change,” Roy interrupted. “There’s no ‘let’s say.’ You can do this.”
“All right, when I change. There’s no way I’m letting myself be Gregor’s mate.”
“No, of course not. I bet you don’t really need the sire—I think Gregor’s screwing with them. If you need a pack, you can join DJ’s family’s pack. Or I take out Gregor, and you and Keisha and whoever else isn’t a psycho can be a pack. From what you said, what happened to me was unusual. You should be fine. None of the other werewolves had any problems with cars or electricity or anything like that, right?”
“No.” But Laura didn’t seem as comforted by that as Roy had hoped. “Listen, Roy, whatever happens to me—”
Roy heard her heart skip a beat.
“I felt something.” She sounded frightened at last.
“All right. We’ll stop here.”
Roy scanned the area. Despite Laura’s assurances that Gregor wouldn’t pursue, Roy had run into the wilderness rather than risking the roads. They were in the middle of the woods, with no convenient soft meadows where Laura could comfortably lie down. The ground was muddy and covered with drifts of wet, earthy-smelling leaves. Stray patches of dirty snow lay in the deepest shadows, up against the tallest trees.
He sat down in the mud with his back against a redwood tree, holding Laura in his lap and stretching out his legs so hers could rest atop his. He could smell her lavender shampoo, overlaid with antiseptic, acid, and blood. Her muscles had tensed up, hard beneath her soft skin, and her breathing had gone shallow and irregular.
“How do you feel now?” Roy asked.
“Dizzy. It hurts…” Laura winced, gritting her teeth, and Roy heard her heart skip another beat. “It hurts a lot.”
“Where?”
“All over. My muscles. My stomach. My chest. Like things are tearing inside of me.”
Roy had felt something like that, but it had merged with the pain and shock from his wounds; he’d been torn up inside already. “Can you feel how to change now?”
“No.”
“Close your eyes,” Roy said urgently. “Feel inside yourself. Look for the part of you that’s a wolf.”
Laura obediently closed her eyes. Roy held her hands and waited.
She opened her eyes. “I can’t find anything. It’s not like you described it. I don’t—”
A spasm shook her, and her hands clenched tight around his. She was pale, her lips near-white, droplets of sweat shining on her face. He’d seen men look like that when they were starting to bleed out.
I’m a wall of ice, Roy thought fiercely. I’m a pillar of steel.
“Hold on,” he said, with no idea what else to do. “Breathe. It’ll come to you.”
Laura went limp, panting. “I should have asked Keisha what it feels like. It was stupid of me not to. I was so sure he wouldn’t get to me.”
“Don’t think about that. It’s a distraction. You need to focus.”
“On what?” Laura asked. “I—”
She broke off with a cry of pain. Roy could do nothing but hold her until it passed.
“Do you want to lie down?” he asked, fishing for something useful to do. “I could take off my shirt and lay it down for you.”
“No.” Her voice was as tight as her muscles. “Listen, Roy, if I don’t make it—”
Roy gripped her hands hard. “Do not psych yourself out. You have to believe that you’ll live. This is going to be hard, Laura. It’ll be harder than anything you’ve ever done in your life. If you even have the possibility of giving up in your mind, you won’t be able to do it.”
“Let me finish!” Laura snapped, and Roy was glad she was angry at him if it made her voice stronger. “I want you to rescue the pack.”
Roy had forgotten about them. But that was an easy promise to make. “Of course I’ll kill Gregor for you. As soon as you’re better.”
“I don’t just want you to kill him. I mean, feel free! But I want you to help the pack too. Talk to DJ’s family. Track down DJ and talk to him. Do whatever you have to do to set them free.”
Roy didn’t give a damn about a pack of werewolves he’d never met, and he didn’t like the way the conversation was going. “I’ll help you set them free. After you change.”
“But if I—”
Laura screamed, her entire body going rigid. Roy held her close, rubbing her back and urging her to hold on, but he doubted she could hear his voice or feel his touch. She was beyond his reach, beyond the reach of anything but the pain.
She slumped back against his chest, trembling. �
�It’s like I’m being ripped to pieces inside. And I don’t know how to change. I don’t feel different. It just hurts.”
Roy thought back to how he’d changed. The coppery taste in his mouth was so vivid that he wondered if he was finally having a flashback, like everyone thought happened to guys like him. Then he realized that the blood was real: he’d bitten through his lip.
He was in danger of losing that clear bright place, that simplicity of action without human emotion. Roy wiped the blood from his mouth, imagining a wall between himself and his feelings. But summoning back that state of mind gave him an idea.
“Maybe what you need to find isn’t literally a wolf,” Roy suggested. “Maybe it’s what being a wolf feels like. It’s like being in combat—like conning someone who might kill you if they catch on. Not thinking, just doing.”
“Bright and simple and pure,” Laura whispered, before she screamed again.
But when the pain eased, she said, “I feel it now. Like you said. I just…”
She broke off, panting, obviously too tired to go on. Her hair was matted to her forehead, her scent bitter.
“You don’t have to talk,” Roy said. “But does it help you if I do?”
Laura nodded.
“You can do this, Laura,” Roy began. “You can find that place. You’ve been there before, lots of times. Remember what it felt like when you were conning Gregor…”
He talked until his throat was raw, reminding her that she was strong and tough and brave, describing all the sensations of being a wolf, coaxing her with the promise that she could rest once it was over, urging her to gather her strength and try again. And again. And again.
Stay strong for her, he reminded himself. It only feels like it’s been going on for hours. She’s got plenty of time.
To prove that to himself, he stealthily glanced at Laura’s watch.
Fear jolted him like an electric shock. It had been hours. He’d checked the time once Laura had told him about the five-hour limit, and nearly three hours had passed. More than that—she’d been bitten at least fifteen minutes before he’d known to note the time. And she didn’t seem to be getting any closer to changing.
Laura’s gaze followed his. “It doesn’t hurt so much now.”
He could barely hear her voice. There was no color in her face, which was tracked with tears no matter how often Roy had wiped them away, and even her scent had faded.
“I don’t think that’s good, though,” she went on, with eerie calm. “I think the pain is still there, but I’m too far gone to feel it.”
Her body tensed, every muscle locking tight, then relaxed. She didn’t make a sound.
“See?” Laura said, sounding only mildly interested. “An hour ago, that would have made me scream.”
The lack of concern in her voice frightened Roy more than if she had screamed. When he’d been bleeding to death, everything had seemed distant and unimportant and not worth his effort. If it hadn’t been for DJ, he’d have let himself slip away.
“Keep trying,” Roy demanded. “You’re fighting for your life! If I have to slap you to get you going again, I’ll do it.”
She didn’t seem in the least disturbed by that. “I don’t care. It won’t hurt.”
“Try again. Now! Do it, Laura!”
“Too tired,” Laura murmured.
She shuddered, but even the spasms had gotten weaker. He was losing her.
Slapping her wouldn’t help. Coaching her for hours hadn’t helped. He’d stayed strong for her, and that hadn’t helped. There were probably fifty things he could have done differently that would have saved her, but he hadn’t done any of them. Now it was too late.
She was brave and beautiful and sweet and funny, and all of that, everything that she was, the softness of her lips, the delicate strength of her hands, the brightness of her eyes, was about to be gone for good. She’d saved him four times and he couldn’t save her once. If he could trade his life for hers, he’d do it in a heartbeat. But there was nothing he could do.
“I’m sorry, Roy,” she whispered, her eyes closing. “I really did try.”
Love and fear and sorrow crashed over Roy like a tidal wave. His feelings knocked him off his feet, and he went under. He wasn’t a weapon, he wasn’t made of ice, he wasn’t strong and hard. He was a man holding the dying woman he loved, and crying in racking, ugly, noisy sobs.
His tears burned like acid as they dripped down to Laura’s upturned face. He felt as if he was the one who was being ripped apart inside.
“I love you.” Roy could barely get the words out. “I love you, Laura. Please don’t leave me.”
Laura’s eyes opened a crack. “You’re conning me.”
“I love you,” Roy repeated. He searched for words that would convince her, and found nothing. All he could say was what was in his heart. “I was too scared to say it before. I love you. I need you. Stay with me, Laura. Please stay. Live for me. I’m begging you, please…”
Then, unexpectedly, he found himself shouting in a burst of anger, “Goddammit, Laura, live for yourself! Forget about me! You’re too good to die like this! Don’t give up and die like a fucking pussy!”
To Roy’s astonishment, that got her attention. Her eyes opened all the way, and she actually looked annoyed. “You know I hate that word.”
Scalding tears still poured down Roy’s cheeks, but that made him laugh. He felt as if he was drunk or losing his mind. “Change, and I swear I’ll never say it again. Come on, Laura. One last try, and then you can sleep. I know you can do it. Give it everything you have. Everything. Lift that fucking car, Laura! Lift it now!”
The air shimmered, and Roy held a gray wolf in his arms.
The wolf turned her head, examining Roy with her yellow eyes. She was panting, her sides heaving, but her heartbeat was strong.
So this was Laura’s wolf. He would have expected her to be plump or stocky, to echo the woman’s voluptuous figure or her strong muscles beneath, but the gray wolf was small and lithe, with black markings on her sleek coat.
Roy stroked her fur, marveling at the life he felt beneath his hands. His chest hurt as if he’d been coughing all night, the bones of his face burned and ached, and his tears flowed and flowed as if he’d turned on a tap. It was exactly like he’d always been afraid would happen if he ever let himself cry: he couldn’t stop. But Laura was alive. Everything else was small potatoes.
Roy cleared his throat. “Can you change back? It should be easier.”
With another ripple in the air, Laura again lay in Roy’s lap. She looked utterly exhausted, but no worse than that.
“Hey, Roy,” she said softly. She reached up a trembling hand and touched his cheek. Her fingers were warm again. “Didn’t mean to make you cry.”
He tried to smile. “Shows how special you are. It’s probably been fifteen years. It’s been so long, I don’t remember how to stop.”
“Fifteen years of tears,” Laura said. “That might take a while.”
Roy changed the subject. “How do you feel?”
“Tired. Achy. But pretty good, considering I was dying five minutes ago. Roy…”
“What?”
Laura broke eye contact, looking down. “Did you mean what you said?”
“Yes, of course.” Roy scrubbed at his face, ordering the waterworks to turn off. They stayed on, full blast. He felt like a wreck, and now that he had to say it in cold blood, all the reasons he hadn’t said it before felt more valid than ever. “I love you. I know I’m not in any shape or situation to have a relationship. My life is a mess. I’m a mess. I have no idea where I go from here, I can’t ride in a car or turn on the lights—I can’t even stop crying!”
“Roy…” Laura began.
Determined to be honest, he plowed on, “I know you like me, but love is different. I’m afraid you’ll say yes because you can’t know yet how hard it’ll be, and then you’ll find out and leave me. And that’ll be more heartbreaking for both of us than if we’d neve
r tried at all. But yeah. I love you. And I hadn’t intended to say that at all, but if I had, I sure wouldn’t have wanted to do it while I’m crying.”
Laura chuckled. “Enough about the crying. You don’t do it all the time and you have a good excuse for it. Besides, women like sensitive men.”
“There’s sensitive, and there’s Niagara Falls.” Frustrated, Roy again swiped his hand across his eyes. No luck.
“I love you,” Laura said.
The entire world seemed to stop. No birdsong, no wind, no drip of melting snow. “You do?”
Laura looked exasperated. “Roy, I thought you didn’t love me! You’re the one who said having sex was a mistake and we shouldn’t do it again and you were leaving—and not just leaving, but leaving me.”
“Oh… well…” If his face hadn’t been so hot already, Roy would have flushed with embarrassment. “Yeah, I can see how I gave you that impression.”
Laura laughed again, and Roy forgot about everything else in a burst of sheer joy. Laura was alive, she was laughing, and she loved him. She’d seen him crying and broken down and laid out on her kitchen floor because he’d been knocked out by a light bulb, and she still loved him.
Roy bent his head to kiss her. She was too tired for passion and he was too shaken up, and his tears got all over her face.
He never wanted it to end.
“Come on.” Roy stood up, lifting her easily. “I’ll carry you home.”
Chapter Fifteen: Laura
Run with the Wolves
Laura woke alone, and yet not alone; the bedroom was empty, but she knew Roy was in the kitchen, making breakfast and coffee. She could feel his presence as if she was there in the room with him.
You can smell the coffee and hear stuff clinking, she told herself. Obviously Roy’s in the kitchen.