Protector Panther: BBW Panther Shifter Paranormal Romance (Protection, Inc. Book 3)

by Zoe Chant

  Justin’s eyelids began to flutter. Caught between sleep and waking, conscious enough to feel pain but not conscious enough to hide it, he moaned and turned his head back and forth as if he was trying vainly to escape from his own body. Shane remembered that relentless stabbing pain, as if his bones had been replaced by broken glass.

  Lick his wounds, his panther advised.

  Stop saying that, Shane replied silently. It’s gross.

  He opened the medical kit and filled a syringe.

  Justin moaned again, then opened his eyes. “What’s that?”

  He sounded dazed, so Shane kept it simple. “For the pain.”

  “I can stand it,” Justin said immediately. Shane suspected that he was stripped down to a PJ’s most basic instincts: show no weakness, find your friends, hunker down and endure.

  “I know you can,” Shane said. “But you don’t have to.”

  Justin peered at the label on the tiny bottle. “What is it?”

  Shane held it closer, though he doubted that Justin could focus enough to read the fine print. “It’s just morphine. You’ve had it before, remember? I gave you some when you took a round to the chest.”

  “This hurts more,” Justin admitted.

  Shane knew how bad he had to be feeling to confess that. It was a mark of pride for military personnel to deny pain, which created another sort of pain— a pain in the ass— for medics. Back when he’d been a PJ, Shane often had to resort to asking, “Where do you feel it?” and “How bad is it?” to get any sort of useful answer out of his patients.

  “I know.” Shane pushed up Justin’s sleeve and gave him the shot. “There, that should hold you till we get you to the doctor.”

  Catalina returned with a rolled-up blanket under one arm and a ring of keys jingling in her hand. “All set?”

  Justin looked up at her, guilt deepening the lines of pain etched into his face. “I’m sorry. What I did to you—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Catalina interrupted him. “It’s water under the bridge. And any buddy of my mate’s is a buddy of mine.”

  “Thanks. Buy you a drink later.” Justin’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he seemed to melt into the couch as all his muscle tension released at once. “Oh. There we go.”

  Shane recognized that moment familiar to all medics, the shock of relief when unbearable pain suddenly eases. Released from the burden of long-borne suffering, patients often immediately fell asleep. Shane wasn’t surprised when Justin’s eyes closed.

  “Justin?” Shane asked softly. After a moment, he tried, “Red?”

  Justin didn’t stir. Catalina crouched beside him as Shane rechecked his vital signs.

  “You’ve seen this before— you’ve lived this. How is he, really?” Catalina asked. She put her arm around Shane.

  His own tension released at her touch. “I know he looks bad. But he’s in better shape than I was when Hal found me. I think Dr. Elihu was right— the longer you live with the process, the more your body adjusts and the easier it is to stop the treatments. Justin’s been living with it for two years now.”

  All the same, he hurried to the car with Justin in his arms. Catalina ran ahead to unlock it and open the doors. Shane got Justin settled as comfortably as he could manage, lying across the back seat with his head in Shane’s lap. Catalina draped the blanket over him and helped Shane give him oxygen. Then she took a flying dive into the driver’s seat, starting the car before her butt even touched the seat.

  “Show-off,” he said.

  “You love it,” she immediately replied.

  The exchange, which had become a joke between them, relieved some of his anxiety. As Catalina pulled out of the driveway, she reached back to lay her hand on Shane’s shoulder. The position would have been uncomfortable for any normal person, but she made it look graceful and easy. Shane laid his hand over hers, holding it like a lifeline.

  “How’re you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” he began, then remembered not to lie to her. “I’m worried about him. But I’m glad he’s back. And I’m glad you’re here with me.”

  The mountain roads were very dark. The headlights’ beam made trees loom up suddenly, then vanish into the black.

  Catalina was an excellent driver, pushing the car as fast as it could safely go but maintaining an even speed so Justin wouldn’t be jarred. Shane remembered that when she and Ellie had been partners as paramedics, Catalina had driven the ambulance while Ellie treated patients in the back.

  “You went through this too,” Catalina said. They were both speaking softly, as if they were afraid to wake Justin, though Shane knew he would wake on his own or not at all.

  “Yeah.” Shane touched his friend’s forehead. His skin was far too hot, but the sweat welling up was icy. Shane remembered how it had felt as vividly as if it had happened yesterday instead of a year ago: the cold sweat, the burning fever, the sense of suffocation, the pain that made every movement an agony. “Now that I’ve been shot too, I can tell you that Justin was absolutely right. This hurts a hell of a lot more than a bullet in the chest. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it in front of Hal, but you could’ve wrung out my shirt like a dishrag.”

  Catalina squeezed his hand. “I wish I could’ve been there for you.”

  “You were there when I needed you most. And I wasn’t alone back then. I had Hal.”

  “Everything comes around,” Catalina said. “Now Justin’s got you.”

  As she drove through the night, Shane remembered how alone he’d felt when he’d collapsed in the woods, lying on a bed of autumn leaves and waiting to die. He’d had no hope of survival or redemption, of justice or revenge. The pain had been so bad, he couldn’t even appreciate the last few moments of life he’d thought had been left to him. What little strength remained to him had been spent on hoping it would all be over soon.

  But Hal had found him. And every time he’d been offered a chance to live, he’d taken it, even when he’d thought it was a forlorn hope. And all that agony had been worth it. His life hadn’t been ruined, just changed. He’d lost the PJs, but he’d gained Protection, Inc.

  Your pack, his panther hissed.

  Panthers still don’t have packs, Shane answered silently. Weird cat.

  Weird human, his panther retorted. Of course we do. You have one of your pack in your lap. And another one is driving the car.

  Shane had to admit that the big cat had a point. Justin had returned, and Shane could hear the unbreakable endurance of the PJ he’d been in his every labored breath. And Catalina was right there with him, pushing the car to its limits with one hand controlling the wheel with smooth confidence and one hand resting easily on his shoulder.

  My mate, he thought. It was as much of a shock of wonderment now as when he’d first recognized her. It resonated all the way down to his heart.

  “I have you,” he said aloud.

  “And I’ve got you,” she replied as easily as if she’d heard the entire conversation. “I never thought I’d find a man whose idea of a perfect night out is transporting a critically ill patient at 3:00 AM. I guess it really is true that there’s someone for everyone.”

  Catalina brought the car to a smooth stop in front of Dr. Bedford’s office. Her Range Rover was in the otherwise empty lot, and the lights were on. They glowed warm and welcoming. She was the only doctor Shane had ever encountered who used normal lights, like you’d have in a house, instead of harsh white fluorescent strips.

  Shane carried Justin inside. As Catalina closed the door behind them, Dr. Bedford gestured toward a hospital bed.

  “Put him on that, please,” she said.

  Shane laid him down. Dr. Bedford began attaching electrodes to his chest. As she stuck one on, Justin awoke suddenly with a cry of pain. Eyes wild, teeth bared, he snarled at the woman in the white doctor’s coat.

  “Red!” Shane called to him, but Justin was beyond understanding.

  An instant later, a snow leopard crouched
on the bed. He let out a hair-raising howl of pain and rage, then sprang at the startled doctor.

  Shane threw himself between them, tackling the snow leopard and throwing him to the ground. But Shane rolled at the last second, taking the impact on his own body. His friend was sick and in pain; the last thing he needed was to get slammed into the floor.

  “Don’t fight,” Shane gasped. “It’s Comeback, Red. I’m your friend!”

  But he knew Justin didn’t understand. Justin wasn’t there; his snow leopard was in control, delirious with fever, overcome by pain, panicked at the sight of doctors and medical equipment, and desperate to escape. No doubt Justin had undergone his share of painful and unpleasant experiments at Dr. Elihu’s hands.

  The snow leopard lashed out, fighting to escape Shane’s grip. Shane wrapped his arms and legs tight around the beast, burying his face in the leopard’s neck to avoid its fangs. While they struggled on the floor, Shane heard Catalina and Dr. Bedford urgently conferring, but couldn’t catch the words over the snarls and eerie shrieks of the snow leopard.

  Then Catalina darted in with a syringe in her hand. With her incredible speed and agility, she jabbed it into the snow leopard’s haunch, then sprang away before the beast could claw her.

  Shane didn’t dare relax physically, but he was immensely relieved. Any second now the big cat would collapse beneath him, deep in a tranquilized sleep...

  The snow leopard shook itself violently, nearly throwing Shane across the room.

  “It’s not working,” Dr. Bedford said, sounding surprised.

  Captain Obvious, Shane thought.

  “What was it?” Catalina asked. The leopard growled loudly enough to drown out the doctor’s reply, but Catalina’s clear voice carried through it. “He’s immune to tranquilizers!”

  Shane swore to himself. Catalina had mentioned that, but it had been before either of them had known who the mysterious shifter was. Obviously both she and Shane had completely forgotten that in the surprise of learning his identity.

  “Try morphine!” Shane shouted, then ducked another swipe of those sharp claws.

  He again wrestled the snow leopard into submission. The big cat was weak, fighting with the strength of desperation alone, or Shane would never have been able to handle him in his human form. But he managed to keep a grip on the snow leopard, though the big cat struggled fiercely beneath him.

  Dr. Bedford handed Catalina another syringe. She darted in and neatly slipped it into the loose skin between the snow leopard’s shoulders, then jumped back as the big cat nearly broke through Shane’s hold.

  “Stay clear,” Shane called, forcing the animal down again. “Give it a minute to work.”

  He grimly pinned the snow leopard until its struggles eased off.

  Hoping that Justin would understand him once he wasn’t overwhelmed by pain and panic, Shane said, “Shift, Red. You need to be a man now.”

  A second later, Shane knelt beside a trembling, gasping man. Justin’s bewildered gaze drifted around the room, then fixed on Shane.

  “Comeback?” Justin’s voice was startlingly strong and confident. It made an odd pang go through Shane. That was how his friend used to sound all the time. “You’re bleeding. Let me get my kit. Some of those will need sutures.”

  “Sure,” Shane said, after an instant’s confused pause. “Get your kit, Red.”

  Justin relaxed at Shane’s words. His eyes slid shut, and his breathing steadied.

  “He’s right,” Catalina said, frowning at Shane. “You do need stitches. Dr. Bedford, can I borrow your supplies?”

  “That cabinet.” The doctor pointed to it. To Shane, she said, “If you don’t mind...?”

  Shane lifted Justin back on to the bed. As Dr. Bedford once again began to examine Justin, Shane reached down to re-check his pulse.

  “Out of my way, please,” said the doctor.

  “But—”

  A small hand came down on his shoulder.

  “You heard her. Sit down.” Catalina pushed him into a chair. “Doctor’s on duty. Let her do her thing, and let me do my thing.”

  For the first time, Shane looked down at himself. He was bleeding from deep claw wounds on his arms and chest and thigh. Once he noticed them, they began to sting.

  Catalina got the supplies from the cabinet and filled a syringe.

  “No drugs.” Shane couldn’t afford to sleep when his mate might need him to defend her and his friend might need to be protected from himself.

  “It’s just a local anesthetic, to numb the area,” she said. Then, with gentle irony, she added, “But I could stitch you up with nothing if you really want me to.”

  His wounds instantly hurt more as he imagined that. “Sorry. It’s fine.”

  Idiot, his panther remarked. Your mate isn’t going to drug you. She knows you wouldn’t want that. She knows because she’s your mate. When are you going to get that into that thick head of yours?

  Stop being right all the time, Shane replied silently.

  Catalina gave him several shots of local anesthetic, then cleaned and stitched his wounds. Her sutures were neat and small, better than his; he was used to working in combat conditions, focusing on saving lives and leaving anything that wasn’t immediately life-threatening for someone else to deal with later. She’d obviously had far more practice with minor injuries. Even if he hadn’t had shifter healing, she’d have ensured that he healed without scars.

  Once she was done, he sat down in a chair by Justin’s bed. Catalina sat beside him with her arm around his shoulders.

  “Look, he’s better already,” she remarked.

  Shane glanced from his friend’s pale face to the monitors. Catalina was right; Justin was breathing more easily now, and his heart rate was down.

  “So he can’t be sedated, huh?” Dr. Bedford asked. “I’ll keep him on a morphine drip. Hopefully he won’t panic if he’s not in pain. All the same... you’d better stay with him.”

  “Don’t worry,” Shane said. “I won’t leave him.”

  And he didn’t. Dr. Bedford moved another bed into the room so Shane and Catalina could take turns watching over Justin.

  But Justin never again tried to transform or fight. When he woke, all Shane had to do was say, “You’re sick, Red. You’re in a hospital. I’m staying with you till you’re better.”

  Often Justin would simply nod, then go back to sleep. Sometimes he asked about missions from years ago, or if his buddies were all right. Shane could usually assure him with perfect honesty that everyone was fine. He’d kept tabs on all the PJs he’d known. But once Justin asked about Mason. Shane had no idea if Justin meant the mission they’d been on when Apex had captured them, or some other mission, or if he thought they were all still at Apex. But Shane couldn’t lie about that.

  “Mason didn’t make it,” Shane said. “I was there. It was quick. He didn’t suffer.”

  “Oh,” Justin sighed, and Shane saw that on some level Justin had already known. But he turned his head away, hiding his face in the pillow. Shane kept a hand on his shoulder until he slept again.

  If Justin woke when Catalina was watching, she’d point to Shane and say, “Shane’s right there. He’s fine; he’s just taking a nap. He’s here to take care of you.” That too seemed to satisfy him.

  Shane had needed full life support for a week, and he’d still almost died. But Justin required nothing more than rest, oxygen, IV fluids, and medication to reduce his fever and support his heart and lungs. And from his reaction every time he awoke and saw Shane beside him, Shane suspected that the knowledge that he was finally free and with friends was also essential to his healing. If Hal hadn’t stayed by Shane’s side, Shane doubted that he’d have found the strength to survive.

  Justin’s fever broke in a few days, but he had no memory of anything after passing out on Hal’s couch. Shane decided not to tell him the rest. He knew all too well how much Justin probably had to feel guilty about. He didn’t need to know that he’d hurt Shane.
By that time, his claw wounds had healed without a trace.

  Once Justin was well enough to walk around, he sent Catalina and Shane out, telling them they must be going stir-crazy. When Shane said honestly that he wasn’t, Justin bluntly informed him that he needed some time to himself.

  Catalina went off to telephone Ellie. Shane took a hike in the forest. He didn’t follow a trail and, by habit, didn’t leave one either. But he wasn’t surprised when he heard footsteps behind him, deliberately crunching twigs and leaves so as not to startle him. He knew who it was before he turned around.

  Justin was out of his hospital pajamas and in the clothes he’d worn when he’d first shown up at the cabin: jeans, a T–shirt, and hiking boots. He was thinner and paler than he should be, but he stood strong and straight. But what surprised Shane was that he’d found a pair of scissors and clipped his hair close enough to get rid of the black. It was much shorter than he’d usually worn it, but once again bright as a new penny.

  “Thanks for...” Justin shook his head as if there was too much to name. “For everything.”

  He didn’t say “Goodbye,” but Shane heard it in his tone.

  “Why don’t you join Protection, Inc.?” Shane asked. “It’s not quite parachuting into combat zones, but I think you’d like it. And you never know, some day there might be parachuting.”

  Justin didn’t smile— Shane had never seen him smile since they’d been PJs together— but the skin around his strange black eyes crinkled like maybe he was thinking about smiling. “Did your boss authorize you to bring on new team members?”

  “No,” Shane replied. “If he has a problem with it, I’ll just beat on him till he gives in.”

  Justin’s eyes crinkled a little more, then smoothed out as he seemed to give Shane’s suggestion some serious thought. “Maybe later. Not now. I’ve got some stuff I need to sort out on my own.”

  Shane wished he’d been willing to stay. But his friend was back, more-or-less from the dead, and that was the important thing. “Your call. Whatever you decide, you know where to find me.”