She didn’t hear Curragh come up. He listened to her voice shake with rage as she whispered hoarsely, “This is for…” But she didn’t finish the sentence. She shot him in between the eyes and the man, already wounded, flopped dead to the ground. Curragh wrapped her in his arms.
“You okay?”
From miles away she nodded. “Yes.”
Xavier called over, “He’s alive!”
Howard, busy unstrapping Tahl, called back, “Oh, thank God!”
Kara buried herself into Curragh’s bare chest, not seeming to notice the blood all over him. “I don’t know what I would have done if she’d killed you.”
“She couldn’t. It’s against our laws.”
“Your laws?”
“We’re not allowed to kill our own kind.” With red fingers he lifted her chin to look at her. “Your face is so fucked up.”
She couldn’t help but smile, “I’m fine.” Then she frowned as a new thought hit her. “Where’s Viktor?”
Curragh looked around. In all the chaos, he’d forgotten about Kruglov. Xavier locked eyes with him, frowning.
Howard said, “Which one was he?”
Xavier looked at him, now more disturbed. “You didn’t see a she-wolf here?”
Howard shrugged. “No.” He paused. “There was a she-wolf? Really??!!”
Curragh scanned the fallen and growled, “The bitch escaped.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Kara could see Howard was in the dark still, so she told him in a tired voice, “Viktor is a woman. And a werewolf.” Howard stared at her. “Yeah. I know. Curragh told me, and if he hadn’t before, the cat’s out of the bag now, dontcha think.”
She turned to Curragh and for the first time noticed the bleeding hole in his bicep. He shook his head not to make a big deal of it, but she gasped, “You’re hurt!” anyway.
He was covered in blood, some his own, most not. His green eyes were sharp and fixed on her. She was just so happy he was alive. “It’s only my arm, no vital organs. Barely hurts.”
Blinking at him, she remembered watching the way he and Xavier had worked together to take down as many attackers as they could, and how they’d dodged the bullets. “I will never be afraid of you again,” she whispered.
With a funny face, he muttered, “After that you won’t be afraid? You make no sense, woman.”
Pride shown from his eyes. It was nice, but how long before he remembered it was her leaving that had brought all this on? She hoped he could forgive her for running away. None of this would have happened if she hadn’t. Draik wouldn’t be so badly hurt. That poor girl wouldn’t be dead. They would have made a plan and come down here with better results. She felt responsible for all of it.
Xavier exhaled. The strain of everything was on him—his posture showed it. “We have to get these guys outta here. They need medical attention.” To Howard he said, “Good thing you weren’t injured. They’re going to need you.”
Curragh grumbled, glaring at Tahl, “I can’t believe we’re going to nurse that sonofabitch back to health.” But Kara could see empathy behind his eyes, regardless. The man who’d taken her captive had paid a high price. She’d never seen anything so ugly as what they’d done to him. Only someone heartless would leave him for dead.
“Let’s get back to the warehouse.” Xavier’s hand rested on Draik’s bleeding shoulder. “We’ve got the medical supplies in the ambulance. You can do your magic there.”
Howard explained, “We need to strap a tourniquet around your gunshot wounds. The sooner the better.”
“I know where we can find lots of cloth. Follow me.” Kara took Curragh’s hand and started for the door she’d come through, but then stopped at the sight of the ballerinas. Making no sounds, they were staring at their dead friend. “That’s some therapy waiting to happen,” Kara muttered. “I’ll call the captain as soon as I can. We should take them with us.”
“And the baby,” Xavier said.
Kara turned her head to look at him. “Baby?”
Curragh snorted with disgust, “She offered us a child as a sick prank.”
“It’s not hers.”
Mortified, Kara asked, “Where is it?”
She followed Curragh through the door on the opposite side of the room. There, lying on an industrial kitchen counter was a baby boy, naked and crying on the cold, metal surface. Kara rushed over and swept him into her arms. He was heavier than expected, but then again, she’d never held a baby before.
“Wet that towel. The poor thing has been lying in his own urine.” She bounced him and cooed into his ear, “I’ve got you little man.”
Curragh snatched up the dishtowel she’d pointed to, and held it under a running faucet. He felt the water until it was not hot, but warm. Only problem was, he was such a mess that loads of blood mixed in. The towel needed to be rinsed out. “Hold on. Let me just…” He trailed off as he dropped it and turned the water to scalding hot, soaped up and cleaned his hands and forearms. Soaking the towel and using dish soap to clean it, too, he rubbed it together until it was suitable, then cooled it down with cold water so as not to scald the baby’s sensitive skin. “Okay.” He motioned for her to bring the infant closer.
She shook her head, helpless. “Can we use dish soap on his skin?”
Curragh paused, also clueless. “Uh…well…we’ll use it, then rinse him off really quick.”
“Good idea,” Kara muttered, kissing the baby’s head before she held him out. Together they cleaned him quickly and Curragh procured two more dishtowels from a drawer to dry and wrap him up with. As she watched him fumble around, obviously caring about doing his best for the child, Kara felt her love for him grow. For the first time in her life, the urge to have a family bloomed in her mind.
Curragh was unaware of this. He was focused on doing well and dissatisfied with the result, grumbled, “He needs a bigger towel.”
She rose up on her toes to give the wolf a kiss before she said, “We’ll get him one. I know where we can find it. But that’s perfect for now.” The sweet boy in her arms was quiet now, looking around with the kind of innocent curiosity that only babies have. Smiling, she glanced over from the corner of her eyes. “You’re going to make a good father, Curragh.”
His eyes flickered with a little hope, but he shrugged as if he didn’t know what to say. “I never thought I’d want that.”
“Do you now?”
“Yes. Because of you.” They stared at each other a long moment.
“I’m sorry I ran away.” She cast her eyes to the child. “If I had stayed with you, this would never have happened. We would have come down here more prepared.”
“With Tahl waiting in the tunnel, something would have happened to change our plans, anyway.” Curragh exhaled and glanced to the floor before meeting her eyes again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right.”
“You told me fine. I just…” Kara sighed, wishing she could go back and do it all over. “I just didn’t know what to do with that kind of information.”
“Well, the dark tunnel and glowing eyes didn’t help you any.” His smirk made her grin. Then he touched the baby’s peach-fuzz-covered head and despite years of jaded scarring, cracked Kara’s heart wide open.
Xavier’s voice came from the other room. “COME ON!”
They glanced to the sound then locked eyes again. Neither wanted to go back in just yet. “Don’t feel bad if you’re lost. I’m right there with you. I have no clue what to do with one of these things.” She rolled her eyes and kissed the baby’s head.
Curragh was gazing at her with what were obviously good thoughts, but then Xavier shouted his name. His face went serious again. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
In the assembly room Kara shielded the infant’s eyes. The sight of the battle was jarring even for her after the quiet moments in the kitchen. No child should see what went down in this room.
Xavier had Draik’s body cradled in his capable arms, and Ho
ward was carrying Tahl the same way. The two living ballerinas stood with them, brainwashed silent, waiting for orders.
“It’s through there.” Kara walked faster to join them. “Sorry we took so long.”
Curragh quickly let them know, “The baby was lying in his own pee. We had to clean him up.”
Xavier looked tired, but said nothing as he and the others followed Kara to the dressing room where the men’s clothing waited like prizes to be claimed. She looked at their expressions and noticed the sight made them both smile.
Curragh scanned the hangers and said under his breath, “Well, look at this.”
Light returned to Xavier’s eyes. “Our clothing problem is solved. Curr, bring that over.” There was a chaise lounge away by the wall and soon Draik and Tahl were lying next to each other on it like wounded brothers after a war, both unconscious.
The ballerinas stayed off to the side. Kara kept glancing over, knowing she couldn’t do anything for them. She thought of the psychiatrist who could have, had she not been killed in the hospital that day. Kara held the baby closer to comfort herself. Her gaze drifted back to Howard as he tore up a dress shirt with his bare hands, for tourniquets. That’s when Kara noticed a change. He was not the same man. Not at all. “You look…different.”
Howard pushed the scruffy hair away from his forehead, as was his habit. “Huh. Yeah. I don’t know what happened to my glasses. I must have dropped them, but I can see fine.” He shrugged, ripping the fabric with ease.
They had been waiting for medical help with detached expressions, but then at Kara’s tone Curragh and Xavier scanned Howard. Two sets of eyebrows rose up at once.
Under his breath in disbelief, Curragh said, “You’re fucking huge!”
“You’re more than twice the size you were,” Xavier agreed, incredulous.
Howard looked down at his body. His clothes, normally baggy, were tight now against muscle that wasn’t there before. The once loose sweater was now taut against his sinewy chest and shoulders. It tugged up at the bottom like it had shrunk, and exposed part of a six-pack over his belt line. “What the hell?”
No one knew what to say. They just stood there, until Kara asked, “Are you on steroids?”
On a snort, Howard shook his head and looked at her. “Hell no!”
“Then what happened?”
Curragh and Xavier exchanged a look like they couldn’t believe it, even though they seemed to have the answer.
“What? What is it?” Kara demanded.
Xavier shook his head on a half-smile. “You’ve come into your own, buddy. Looks like all you needed was a little confidence. Looks like the hero role suits you. No more scrawny for you.”
Howard stared at him, then shifted his gaze back down to his filled-out frame. A proud smile beamed from his no-longer boyish face. “Yeah? Really?” Then he turned to Curragh like a son would when looking for that one time his dad says, Good job. That was the best way Kara could explain it. These guys were still a mystery to her, but they had history. She looked forward to the day when she no longer felt on the outside. She still didn’t understand why he’d suddenly become larger. Xavier’s explanation made no sense to her!
As though he really didn’t want to say it, Curragh finally grumbled, “Alright, you can join us.”
Howard nearly jumped out of his skin he was so excited. “I’m in the pack?!” Really?!! Are you serious!?!”
Curragh sneered, “Calm down. Jesus.”
But Howard was whooping and hollering so loud that Draik came to.
“What’s going on?” he muttered.
Whipping around, everyone told Draik to rest. “Go back to sleep.” “We’ll tell you later.” “Shhhh.”
But Howard couldn’t help himself. “I’m in the pack! I’m in the pack!” Then he got very serious, his responsibility remembered. “And don’t worry, Draik. You’re going to be okay. But you need to rest. Go back to sleep. We’ll take care of everything.” He turned to the others and said with sobriety, “I’ll tie these around him first.”
Kara stared at Howard, hearing what he’d just said and realizing what he meant. Pack! Like a pack of wolves. Holy crap, he’s one of them, too?
Under terrible pain, Draik rasped, “Did we win?”
Xavier kneeled down by his friend and held his eyes for an emotional moment. “We won.” Draik managed to smile, and it was like the sun had lit up the room, but his eyes were fading. “It’s okay to sleep.”
Everyone was quiet as Draik’s eyes closed against his will.
Howard wrapped tourniquets around his wounds and tied them off, and Draik didn’t wake up during it. Kara ached just looking at him. Curragh’s voice pulled her away from the awful sight.
“Fuck. I just realized you’re naked!” He went through the drawers until he found a pair of black boxer briefs and tossed them over to Xavier. “Cover yourself!”
Xavier rolled his eyes as he caught them, and put them on. “I don’t think she cares.”
Kara had to agree with an ironic smile. “I really don’t. No offense, Xavier.” The admiration she’d felt earlier for all of them, had evaporated. Their bodies were no longer interesting to her. She only had eyes for Curragh now. And it must have showed. “But you need some, too. There are teenagers present.”
Sliding a pair on, Curragh asked with a smirk, “How’s he doing?”
She looked down at the baby. “Sleeping. Even with Howard making an ass of out himself.”
Howard cried out, “Hey!” in fake offense. Then a grin wiped his frown away, and he wrapped up Xavier’s leg quickly, pulling it very tight and tucking the extra fabric under the knot. “You’re all set.” Curragh stepped forward for his turn. Howard rose up to tie the ripped shirt around the bullet hole in Curragh’s bicep. “This is hardly good work, and your wounds are dirty, but we’ll clean them up later. This is just for now.”
“Perfectionist,” Xavier mumbled. “I’m going to see if there’s luggage to pack some of this shit up. It’ll probably fit us. The guards were ‘roided up.”
“No doubt,” Howard mumbled.
“We might be able to go back to the loft and quit the warehouse.” Curragh said.
Xavier shrugged and headed out, returning not long after with a couple of large suitcases.
With Curragh patched up, Kara reminded him, “We need to get him a bigger towel.”
“Right.” To Howard and Xavier, he said, “We’ll be right back. You’re having fun.”
Pulling shirts off hangers as they left the room, Xavier muttered, “Fuck yeah. I think I’ve earned it.”
Chapter Fifty
The bathroom Kara led him into was fit for a king. Or two. The gold bathtub was enormous, with a chandelier over it the size of a Mini Cooper. The wallpaper was expensive and old. It had been flown in from Europe, as had the gilded chairs, the faucets for the triple sink, the marble for the floors, and the statues. Not that he would have any way of knowing that. He just knew it was gaudy as fuck.
As Kara went to pull a violet bath sheet from a heated towel rack, Curragh walked to get a better look. “I’ve never seen a bathtub like this,” he muttered under his breath. It still had water in it, and he smelled the air as an afterthought. Something caught his notice and he glanced quickly to Kara as his blood went hot. She was busy swaddling the child in a haphazard way. Too busy. Her eyes were averted in a purposeful way and suddenly a memory hit him. Of her shooting that guard back there. Her saying what she said, but not finishing the sentence. The complete lack of remorse or pause. He knew she was a cop and used to brandishing a gun, but killing a man in cold blood was something altogether different.
“Kara?” He heard the gruffness in his tone, and tried again, quieter this time. “Kara…”
She still wouldn’t look at him. “I can’t seem to make this work. How do they wrap burritos?” She walked the child to a gilded dresser and laid him down.
“Baby...” Curragh came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms.
“What did they do to you?”
She violently shook her head. He wanted to see her face, but had the instinct that he needed to be kind. It was not a feeling known to him and he struggled with it, to say the least. A fire was pulsing through his veins at the thought of her touched by someone else’s hands. Vengeance tugged at his soul, but he kept his tone as detached as possible, since she still hadn’t answered him.
“Kara. Did that human touch you?”
The child blinked at Curragh. Kara’s hands gripped the sides of the dresser top. Her knuckles were white. Her whole body was rigid. Still, she didn’t answer. So he tried again.
“Baby, I can smell that something happened here. And I smell you.”
She caved forward as her shoulders shook. “Please stop!”
He turned her around and took her face in his hands. She was holding back tears, and the shame he saw was so severe he almost howled in agony for them both. “Hey, hey, I love you. This doesn’t change that.”
“I feel like it will,” she choked. “You’ll look at me differently. You’ll touch me differently.”
Curragh huffed disagreement and kissed her, hard. She threw her arms around his neck and responded with relief and need. The kisses were all encompassing. Neither wanted to break away, but the baby started making little noises. They couldn’t help but look over at the alien thing to see what it wanted.
“I think it’s hungry,” Curragh murmured into her hair.
Kara gave a little laugh—a sound so welcome to his ears. “It’s a he, not an it.”
“Fine. He’s hungry.” The wolf used extra emphasis to keep the mood light, but inwardly, if that man were still alive, they wouldn’t be standing here right now. Curragh would have hunted him down until he found him, and then he would have skinned him alive. The fact that he couldn’t do that made dealing with knowing Kara had been violated that much tougher. He had nowhere to put this rage. But when Kara turned her face to look up at him, eyes and nose red, he softened on the inside.
Werewolves of Chicago: Curragh (Werewolves of... Book 6) Page 18