by Kit Tunstall
She was shocked to feel herself rapidly approaching an orgasm. That she was having one from intercourse was surprising enough, since she’d never achieved that before. She’d had orgasms during sex with a partner, but it always required some additional stimulation on her part. Perhaps it was because he was filling her so completely and hitting all of her most sensitive spots, or maybe it was simply because it was Hale himself.
Something about him made the whole experience different and far more enjoyable than her few previous attempts. He groaned as he pressed deeply in to her, and the twitching of his cock was enough to trigger her own release. Her walls clamped around him, and she shuddered in his arms as she came. While she was hitting the peak of pleasure, she let out a startled yelp when Hale bit her on the shoulder. It should have hurt, but instead, it seemed to heighten her climax, and she released a small cry of satisfaction as she clung to him even tighter.
She was still twitching and pulsing when Hale abruptly pulled away from her and turned his back to her. In a second, he transformed into his bear form, and he was even more magnificent up close than he had been from a distance. She was in awe for a moment, but fear returned as she realized she was trapped in the arena with an angry bear. Hopefully, his orgasm had taken the edge off of his pheromone-induced need for her at least.
He turned back to her, clamping his mouth around her arm. She braced herself for pain, but it never came. He was trying to tug her forward, and she realized he wanted her to follow him. “I understand,” she said, meeting his gaze.
His eyes were exactly the same as the bear and as a human, and she could lose herself in the amber-brown color if the circumstances were different. Instead, she squared her shoulders and tried not to worry about her breasts jiggling as she kept up with Hale. His big, furry head jerked to the right, and she understood he wanted her to head that way. It was the door through which he had come, and when his pace suddenly increased to a run, she intuited he planned to break through the door. She slowed down for a moment, not wanting to be hit by any flying debris, and waited until the door burst under the force of his collision. The cracking sound of wood filled the air, along with Hale’s roar of what appeared to be satisfaction. As soon as the debris had settled, she rushed forward to join him again, doing her best to keep up with the bear.
Most people scattered out of their way, though a couple of crazy fools tried to stop Hale’s escape. He roared at both of them each time, lifting a massive paw and striking them out of the way. She didn’t bother to look to see if they were okay after that. She didn’t really care, but she was fairly certain they wouldn’t be anyway. He had massive paws and a surprising amount of strength considering he was still under the effects of whatever drugs they’d given him. Perhaps the aggression stimulator was working to his benefit for a change.
Hale ran straight for the water, and she did her best to keep up on her bare feet. She winced at rocks and sticks poking through her soles, but tried not to lose any speed.
There were three guards at the dock, and their sole job appeared to be to safeguard the six motorboats tied up there. One ran before facing Hale, but the other two stood their ground. She was appalled to realize they had guns, and though she didn’t know makes or models, they look like semi-automatic or automatic assault rifles. With this kind of operation, they were probably fully automatic.
Hale charged the first one, sending the man flying. She winced automatically when his flesh collided with a pylon holding up the dock. It made a sickening crunching sound, and he moaned as he slumped into the waist-deep water. He was in no danger of drowning as long as he didn’t pass out, but she wasn’t about to offer a helping hand to drag him in.
The other guard didn’t wait for Hale to whack him. He simply stepped aside. She eyed him doubtfully, finding it too easy, but he was standing passively, clearly not wanting to provoke the already-enraged bear. She kept a cautious eye on him as she approached the first boat and sat inside. It rocked a bit, and the transition from the dock to the boat was perilous, but she had managed not to fall in. She looked at Hale, patting the seat beside her. “Hurry up and change back so we can go before Calderon’s reinforcements arrive.”
He shook his shaggy head, and she frowned at him. “You better not think I’m leaving alone. You’re coming with me.”
He made a chuffing sound that could have been his bear’s version of a laugh. It was an ambiguous sound though, so she couldn’t be certain. She watched with confusion as he approached the second boat, shaking her head. “We can fit in the same one.”
A second later, he raised a large paw and swiped it through the motor attached to the boat, rendering the mechanics of it useless. The only way they could use it now was as a rowboat. Grasping his intent, she waited impatiently as he slashed through the motors of the remaining four boats before returning to the end of the dock where their boat was moored. In less than a second, he transformed from his bear form back into the human Hale with whom she had become familiar. His movements were hasty when he lifted the rope from the dock before jumping into the water, scrambling into the side of the boat. “Let’s go.”
She could see why they posted armed guards, because the fools also left the keys in the ignition. That was convenient for her, so she wasn’t going to complain about their lax security. She turned the ignition, holding her breath as she waited for the boat to fire a life. She half-expected it to sputter and die, especially since he’d already disabled the other five boats. That would be just about the kind of luck she’d come to expect over the last few days. Instead, the boat started right away with a smooth purr, the engine vibrating the boat in a subtle way.
Maya had never driven a motorboat before, but she found the motivation to learn quickly when she heard a stampede of feet and shouting growing closer. The takeoff was anything but smooth, sending both of them slamming back into their seats, and she surged to her feet a moment later, clinging to the wheel as she adjusted the speed after spending a second figuring out how to do so.
A moment later, she increased their speed again when she heard gunshots firing behind them. One collided with the side of the boat, admitting a high-pitched squeal of metal against metal. She assumed it must have grazed the side, since the bullet didn’t penetrate through the hull, and the boat didn’t spring a leak.
She had the boat at full speed, not daring to throttle it down until they were several miles into the ocean. It was nerve-racking to try to navigate in the dark, and she was thankful that at least they had almost a half-moon by which to see. A full moon would have been better.
After setting the motor at a reasonable pace, she glanced over at Hale. He was pale, and he looked off. She frowned at him. “Are you all right?”
“I’m better now that I’m out of that place.”
It wasn’t exactly an answer, but she didn’t press him. “Where to?”
“Bear Island.”
She nodded, trying not to feel a little nervous about approaching an island full of bear-shifters. If they were anything like Hale, they wouldn’t hurt her. She had a feeling they were all more human than Calderon and Stone, with their nefarious plots and complete lack of ethics. “That sounds like a solid plan, but I don’t how to get there.”
He leaned forward to pop open a compartment, making a small sound of triumph as he pulled out a large paper map. “This should help us find it.”
Her attention wasn’t on the map though. She swayed on her feet when she saw the deep wound and bright red blood covering Hale’s lower back. “Were you shot?” Even as she asked the question, she knew he had been. The wound was gaping and bleeding, so how could it have been anything else?
He nodded once. “I’m fine.”
She gasped. “You’re not fine. You’re shot. You’ve been shot.”
He arched a brow. “Believe it or not, I’m aware of that.”
She rolled her eyes at his attitude, but inclined her head toward the wheel. “Take over so I can look for a first-aid kit.”
>
“I’ll get it.”
Before she could argue with him, or point out that he shouldn’t move around since he was experiencing blood loss, he was out of the seat and searching the boat. There were two sets of seats along with a small swimming deck where one could jump into the water from the boat. He found an adequate first-aid kit under the second seat, returning to the front seat a moment later. He moved with surprising agility for someone who had been shot, but it was clear he was in pain by the way he grimaced.
“I can’t steer the boat and treat your wound at the same time. Can you drive?”
“I think we can spare a couple of minutes to not move the boat at all.” His words were logical, but she feared they hid the fact that he was uncertain he had the strength to steer the boat while she worked on his back. She didn’t call him on it as she slid the gear upward while easing off the gas. When they had fully stopped, she engaged the anchor for a moment, happy Calderon had invested in a top-of-the-line motorboat with all the bells and whistles.
Everything except an operating table, though she hadn’t removed projectiles from any of her simulation models yet. “I wish I had some anesthetic.”
“I wish I did too, especially if you’re operating while sedated.”
She almost slapped him on the shoulder, but remembered he was wounded at the last moment. “Ha ha, very funny. If you’re feeling up to making jokes, I guess you’ll be okay while I clean the wound and see if you need stitches.” She was just saying that though, because she couldn’t stitch up his wound yet. It was obvious the bullet was still somewhere in his body, since there was no exit wound, and she had no idea where that might be.
She lacked the tools to go digging for the bullet, and she wasn’t certain she’d have the stomach for it anyway. She’d performed different surgical simulations on various animal simulation models they were assigned, and she’d dissected a few real animals, but those left her unprepared for the thought of digging into his entry wound and trying to find the bullet. She couldn’t imagine inflicting that kind of pain on her lover.
With a start, she realized that was correct. It had been a brief, rough encounter, but it had satisfied her. She couldn’t wait to do the whole thing again, though more slowly and without perverts watching, or the threat of imminent death hanging over their heads.
In the end, she simply irrigated the wound with some sterile saline water from a pouch before applying a gauze pad and tape. It was ineffectual, but was the best she could do with the supplies she had. She suspected her actions were more for her benefit than his, because she needed to feel like she was doing something, even if that something really did nothing to ease his pain. It might reduce his risk of infection though, and she tried to cling to that thought as she put the boat in gear a few minutes later and followed Hale’s instructions.
Since Bear Island was also part of the San Juan Islands chain, it was a surprisingly short trip between his island and the one Calderon had commandeered. It still took more than an hour, and he was pale and sweaty by the time they arrived. The gauze pad had leaked through less than ten minutes after she had applied it, but he refused the suggestion of changing it again. They both knew there was no point, though she hadn’t wanted to say that aloud, and apparently he didn’t either. She was uncertain if that was for her benefit or his own.
She smiled at him as she drew closer to the dock, where he had indicated they should park. “We’re going to get you help now.”
He nodded tersely. “You can’t go up there naked.”
She blinked, startled to realize she was still naked. It was the first time she’d been aware of it during their escape. “I don’t really have much choice.”
His lips tightened, and he reached into the first-aid kit, sorting methodically until he produced a small silver square. “Put this on.”
She frowned down at it as she took it. The package fit in the palm of her hand. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.”
He sighed in exasperation. “Open it up. It’s an emergency blanket. You can cut a hole out in the middle and wear it like a poncho.”
She nodded, enthusiastic about his plan as she unfolded the blanket and then refolded it in the right way so she could snip off a half-circle to form a neck hole. She held her breath as she cut with surgical scissors, letting out a small whoosh of relief a moment later to discover she had properly folded the blanket, and it would work as planned. She dropped it over her head. “Now can we get you some help?”
Even in his pain and state of excessive blood loss, he managed to laugh softly. “Help is here.”
She looked up, startled by at least two dozen pairs of eyes focused on them. The eyes belonged to a mix of human and bear faces, and their postures suggested they were wary.
Hale got slowly to his feet, holding up his hands. “It’s me, Hale Lassiter.”
She tensed as the crowd whispered among itself before one solid form stepped forward, distinguishing himself from the rest. He wore a dark-blue jacket, and even in the illumination provided by the half-moon, she could see the gleam of a badge pinned to his lapel.
“What happened to you, Hale? You disappeared months ago without a word to anyone.”
“It’s a long story—”
As he started to sway, she lunged forward to catch him, taking the brunt of his weight, which nearly made her knees collapse for a moment. She glared up at the officer. “He’s also been shot. He needs help. The rest of the story can come later.”
There was a new urgency to the crowd, and the law enforcement official barked orders before he and a few others slid down the steep embankment, moving at an angle, and reached the section where the boat was docked in record time. She experienced a surge of hesitancy and concern about turning over Hale to the group of men, but reminded herself he was a bear-shifter too, and if he wasn’t frightened, she had no reason to be either.
They lifted him from the boat, and she saw him wince. “Be careful,” she snapped. “You’re hurting him.”
“It’s okay, Maya. They kind of have to in order to get me out of the boat and up to the doctor.”
He was so stoic that she wasn’t certain if she should be impressed or frustrated. Instead, she focused on his words. “There’s a doctor on the island?”
“Of course,” answered the one wearing the blue jacket and badge.
“Then get him there as quickly as possible.”
Kade grinned down at Hale. “Your woman’s a bossy little thing.”
“Nah, she’s just looking out for me.” The words were growing more slurred, and his eyes were starting to close. He’d clearly used the last reserves of his strength to get them to the island, and now that he was in safe hands, he was allowing himself to actually feel his injury.
“Why don’t you just shift, Hale?” He glanced to his back as he helped carry them up the steep stairs none of them had bothered with when they had slid down the side a few moments before. He winced at the wound. “It’s the fastest way.”
“Can’t, Kade…” He trailed off, his eyes closing. They blinked a couple of times, and then stayed shut.
“You’re his cousin, Kade? Are you that Kade?”
Kade nodded. “I am. Who you are?”
“It’s a long story, and I’ll tell you after the doctor sees Hale, but he insists we’re mates.”
Kade looked startled for a moment, and then shrugged. “Why hasn’t he already transformed? Did you ask him not to?” He scowled, clearly displeased at that thought.
She shook her head emphatically. “He transformed previously to being shot, but he didn’t in the boat because there wasn’t enough room. They’ve also been pumping him full of drugs, so it could be his healing ability isn’t working with transformation. I’ll let the doctor figure that out.”
“Who is they?” He asked, grunting as he lifted the travois the last step up, ascending to the next level of the island with Hale secure in the middle of the group carrying him.
“They’re bad peopl
e, and I’ll tell you all about it once I’m sure Hale will be okay.”
***
The doctor lived in one of the largest cabins arranged on the single Main Street of the town on the island. She had expected someone to ask her to leave, but no one had even glanced at her as they transferred him from the travois to a surgical table so Dr. Buroh could have room to work on him.
They took Hale into a large room at the front of the cabin, and she trailed behind, still expecting someone to tell her to leave. They seemed not to notice she was there, so she pressed her back into the corner and watched them place him on the metal exam table draped with plastic-lined cloth sheeting. There was an extensive array of medical tools within the doctor’s reach, and he put a mask over his face a moment later.
Hale slumped against the table, completely losing any tension in his body. He had already been unconscious, but now he was clearly sedated. It tugged at her heart to see him in that state again, though she knew Dr. Buroh and the other shifters had Hale’s best interests in mind and acted accordingly. It wouldn’t have been a kindness to operate on him without anesthetic.
Her legs trembled, and her knees went weak, robbing her of the ability to stand, when the doctor picked up a scalpel. The sight of blood wasn’t what bothered her, though he hadn’t cut yet. It was simply the idea of Hale suffering that left her feeling woozy. She slid down the wall, planting her butt in the corner, and pressed her back to the hard surface. She closed her eyes, tipped her head back, and tried not to visualize the surgery he was undergoing.
She couldn’t understand why she cared so much. She would have felt sympathy for anyone in such circumstances, but it shouldn’t have induced this full-body state of dread, and a deep, gnawing fear in her gut at the possibility of losing him. What if he didn’t wake up? What if he got an infection and died? What if the drug they had given him over the past months he’d been captive had somehow interfered with his own natural healing ability at a permanent level, rather than just temporarily? If that was the case, an infection might kill him, with or without antibiotics. He could die on the table.