A fleeting memory flitted across her brain. Something had bitten her. A wolf. No, a man.
She pulled back from the image, not wanting to see it. That was cowardly of her, but she didn’t care. A voice kept calling to her, trying to pull her away from her comforting darkness. She ignored it at first, content to be where she was. She didn’t hurt here but knew she would if she went back.
But the voice didn’t stop. At times it was insistent, at other times cajoling. Always, it was there. Something about the voice soothed her and pulled at her senses. The voice was important. No, that wasn’t right. The man behind the voice was important.
Jacque.
His name hit her like a lightning bolt and everything—all the last memories—flooded back to her in a torrent. A werewolf had bitten her during the attack. That meant she was going to die. She didn’t want to die, wasn’t ready for it yet. She wanted her three or four decades with Jacque before she had to leave him.
It was Jacque talking to her, his voice she was hearing. He was calling her back to him. If she was going to die, damned if she was going to do it without telling him she loved him.
She swallowed again, ignoring the throbbing pain in her neck. This was important. She had to reach Jacque.
Gwen tried to open her eyes, but it felt as though someone had glued them shut. She struggled and fought her way out of the darkness one slow inch at a time. Pain hit her as she pushed past the void. It hurt so much. Every part of her ached. Even her skin hurt.
The temptation to withdraw was great, to simply let the darkness take her. But she heard his voice again and went toward it, pulled by a force greater than the pain—love.
Her eyelids fluttered open a crack and she closed them again as the bright light hit them. She tried again, this time keeping them half closed. She felt something resting on her chest over her heart, something warm and heavy. She looked down and saw a male hand, the skin tanned and the fingers calloused. She knew that hand intimately.
Gwen turned her eyes to the sides.
“Gwen, everything is okay. You’ll be fine.” Jacque’s voice was music to her ears and a balm to her soul. But even as ill as she was, she could hear the fear in his voice and knew he was telling her what he wanted to believe.
She swallowed again and this time was even harder than the last. Her throat was so dry. She lifted her hand to her neck and frowned when her fingers felt numb and clumsy. He caught her hand in his.
“You have three broken fingers, but Gator splinted them for you.” He sat up and brushed his fingers over her cheek. He was so warm and she was so cold.
“Cold,” she croaked. No, that wasn’t what she wanted to tell him.
Jacque rolled off the bed and went to the closet. Frustration ate at her. She had to get this out before she got too weak to do it. He returned with a blanket, snapped it open and settled it over her.
“That should help.”
He perched on the edge of the bed beside her, his dark eyes filled with worry, his expression fierce. “You will get better.” It sounded more like an order than reassurance and she almost smiled. That was her man, always trying to order her around.
She licked her dry lips and tried to speak. He leaned down, so close now their noses were practically touching.
“Love.” She had to stop after that one word and try again. Where moments before she’d been so cold, now her insides were heating up as though someone had taken a blowtorch to them. “Love you,” she managed to get out before she went stiff with pain. It felt like acid was eating her insides, melting her bones and setting her blood on fire.
She tilted back her head and screamed, but all that came out was a soundless cry of agony.
Chapter Twenty
Jacque panicked when Gwen’s body suddenly stiffened and her mouth opened on a silent scream of horror. The conversion attempt had begun. He had no idea how long it would last or what would happen. None of them did. But he wouldn’t leave her, not for a second.
“Is anyone out there?” he yelled, not sure if he’d need help holding Gwen down so she wouldn’t hurt herself. She was already thrashing around in the bed, kicking off the covers, and he was deathly afraid she was going to open her stitches and bleed out if he didn’t stop her.
He put his hands on her shoulders and put all his weight against them, and still she almost bucked him off as her body spasmed.
The door to the room banged open and Louis was there. “Shit, it’s happening.”
“Catch her legs,” he ordered his brother. “And watch out, she’s strong.”
Louis knelt on the floor at the end of the bed, grabbed her ankles and held them. “Christ, you aren’t kidding.” One of her legs slipped out and she almost caught Louis in the nose with her foot before he wrestled the situation under control.
Gator rushed in. “What’s going on?” He took in the situation and swore. “Don’t let her open those stitches.” He crawled onto the bed beside her and checked her bandages while Jacque and Louis held her as still as they could. Her head thrashed from side to side and her breathing was becoming faster and shorter.
Gator felt her forehead. “Shit, she’s burning up.” He bounded off the bed and hurried into the bathroom. He returned with a cool cloth and ran it over her forehead. “Call in the others. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”
Jacque nodded, tipped back his head and howled, knowing it would bring Armand and Cole running. He hated the sense of helplessness he felt. All his strength, all his enhanced senses were useless to him now. All he could do was talk to Gwen and try to will his strength into her fragile human body.
“Stay with me, Gwen. You need to fight for me, chère.” Her eyes were open but he didn’t think she saw him or anyone else. Gwen was locked in a world of pain where he couldn’t reach her.
Cole rushed into the room. “Armand is about five minutes behind me. We were almost finished with the bodies.” He took one look at Gwen and paled. “What can I do?”
“Hold her,” Jacque ordered. “Keep her as still as you can. I’m going to lift her head and back and climb in behind her so I can wrap my arms and legs around her.” That would help keep her steady and allow him to hold her at the same time.
Cole hovered next to him as they got ready to make the exchange. Gwen’s body bowed off the bed, her heels digging in hard. “Ready?” Sweat rolled down Jacque’s forehead, burning as it hit his eyes. Cole nodded and Jacque took a steadying breath. “Go.” He pulled back and Cole took over, his large hands pinning Gwen down on the bed.
She cried out, a pitiful whimper that sounded almost like his name. “I’m here, Gwen. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he teased. “I’m gonna lift her now and slide in behind her. Gator, you help Cole steady her. Louis, don’t let go of her feet.”
They worked as a team, Gator and Cole keeping her as still as possible as he lifted her head and slid in behind her. It was a tight fit, but he made it. With his back against the headboard, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and his legs around her hips. Her head thrashed back and forth on his chest, but at least he had her arms and torso stabilized.
“Try letting go,” he ordered the men. Gator and Cole eased back slowly, ready to pounce again if necessary. Jacque was able to control her erratic movements, keeping her mostly still.
“That’s good.” Gator checked the bandages around her neck. I don’t think she tore any stitches. There’s no fresh blood on the bandages. But she’s burning up.” He nodded to Cole. “Fill a basin with cold water.”
“There’s one in the bathroom you can use,” Jacque told him and Cole disappeared, returning moments later with the metal bowl filled with cold water. Gator used the cloth he’d gotten earlier and began to sponge down her face and arms. It killed Jacque not to be able to do it for her, but he couldn’t do this by himself, not if he was going to save her.
Louis still had a hold of her feet. Their eyes met and Jacque could see the sorrow in his br
other’s eyes. Louis didn’t think she was going to make it. He growled low in his throat, unwilling to accept that as an option.
“Someone cover her legs. I don’t want her catching a chill,” Jacque ordered.
Cole grabbed one of the blankets she’d kicked away and draped it over her legs, covering them and protecting her modesty at the same time.
Jacque closed his eyes and hugged Gwen to his chest, trying to infuse his strength into her. “How long is this going to go on?” he asked his friends, hoping one of them knew more than he did.
Cole shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Hours for sure.” He crouched by the side of the bed and put his hand on her covered thigh. “It’s going to get worse before it gets better.” What went unsaid was it might not get better. Gwen could die.
Armand hurried into the room, his face pale. “The bodies have been taken care of.” Jacque nodded his thanks. At least that was one worry taken care of.
He nuzzled Gwen’s temple as Gator rubbed the cool cloth over her face. “I’m here with you, Gwen. You’re not alone.” It was important for her to know that. From what little he knew of her life, she’d spent far too many years alone. “We’re all here,” he continued. “And when you’re well again, Gator will whip up a batch of his famous blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup and mounds of bacon. Would you like that?”
Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and sinking rapidly as if it were getting harder for her to get air into her lungs. She jerked so hard and fast the back of her head almost hit his nose. He managed to jerk aside at the last second, avoiding a broken nose. Her entire body stiffened and she cried out again.
Jacque held on tight, feeling helpless in the light of her pain and suffering. There was nothing he could do but hold her and pray. After about an hour, she seemed to settle. Gator tossed aside the cloth and sighed. “I don’t know if this is helping or not.”
“Can’t hurt.” Louis slowly released her feet and rolled his shoulders. “She seems calmer now.”
Armand sat on the corner of the bed, concern etched on his face while Cole sat on the floor with one hand still on Gwen’s leg. Five strong male werewolves playing nursemaid to one fragile human, it would have been funny if it weren’t so tragic.
“Why don’t you all take a break,” Jacque told them. “It’s going to be a long day.”
One by one, they shook their heads. Jacque swallowed hard and inclined his head in thanks. No words needed to be said. Not between them.
The day passed slowly, each minute an hour, each hour an eternity. Gwen surfaced from her stupor from time to time, always in a violent seizure, each one worse than the last. She couldn’t hold out much longer.
“You can’t leave me,” he told her. “I need you.”
Pain was the only thing Gwen knew for long stretches of time. She was locked in an unending cycle of agony. It felt as though every cell in her body was trying to explode. God, she hurt.
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, mixing with the sweat on her face. Someone wiped them away. She tilted her head toward the coolness and was rewarded when the cloth slid over her face again.
She managed to get her eyes open to a slit, wanting a glimpse of Jacque. But it was Gator wielding the cloth, not Jacque. Where was Jacque?
In one of her few lucid moments, Gwen realized she felt other touches on her body. Louis was sitting on the floor at her feet with his hands around her ankles. Cole and Armand were on either side of her, each lightly touching her body.
But where was Jacque? She shifted restlessly, needing to find him.
“Shh,” his deep voice soothed. “I’ve got you, Gwen.”
It was then she realized she wasn’t lying flat on the mattress but was propped up, her head resting on a warm, smooth chest. Jacque was sitting behind her, his arms and legs wrapped around her, surrounding her.
She swallowed hard, wanting to tell him she loved him. Or had she already done that? She couldn’t remember. Memories were fleeting and confused. She caught glimpses of her mother and father, which was weird because she hadn’t seen either of them in years. Other people she’d worked with and known over the years flitted in and out of her fevered brain. It hurt to realize that there’d been no one important in her life, no one who cared.
No, that wasn’t quite true. They’d found her, these werewolves, and made her a part of their pack. She wasn’t one of them, not biologically, yet they’d accepted her. Now all of them were gathered around her.
Oh God. She was dying. There was no other reason for their vigil.
Another salty tear rolled down her face. She wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. She didn’t want to leave Jacque or the rest of them. She cared for all of them, but she loved Jacque like she knew she’d never loved before. She hadn’t understood what real love was until now.
He’d put his life and those of his pack on the line, for her. He wanted her to stay with him even though she would grow old and die long before he did. She wanted that life with him. But his own father had robbed it from him by biting her.
No one lived from a werewolf bite. No, that wasn’t quite right. A snippet of information came into focus in her brain before becoming lost in a fevered haze again. But it was enough. Not everyone died. If she lived she might be like him. Like all of them. She didn’t know quite what that meant. All she knew was she didn’t want to leave Jacque.
Her body was radiating enough heat to make him sweat. Her fever was deathly high, her skin pasty. Jacque lifted one of her hands in his and frowned when he saw the pale-blue color tingeing her nails.
“It’s killing her.” Gator placed his hand on her forehead. “The toxin, or whatever the hell it is that’s in our blood, is slowly killing off her blood cells.”
Gwen’s breath was a low rasp, each one a death rattle.
“She’s too hot,” Gator continued. “The fever will kill her if we don’t do something.”
“The tub,” Cole suggested. “We can fill it with cold water and whatever ice we have in the freezer.”
“The shock could kill her,” Armand pointed out.
“Do we really have a choice?” Louis slowly released his hold on Gwen’s feet and stared at Jacque.
Jacque knew there was no other option and nodded his consent. “Get the ice and fill the tub. We don’t have much time.” Cole headed to the bathroom while Louis went to the utility-room freezer for the bag of ice that was stored there. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.
“Let me help you.” Gator carefully leaned Gwen forward while Jacque moved out from behind her. After long hours of not moving, he was stiff. He took several seconds to stretch his arms and legs and then reached for her.
She looked as though she’d lost ten pounds since this morning. Her face was gaunt and her hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to her skull. It was as though all her vibrancy was slowly being snuffed out.
He glanced out the window and noted the sun was sinking in the west. She’d been suffering for hours, her body pushed to its limits of survival. By rights, she should already be dead.
He carefully put his arms beneath her shoulders and under her thighs and lifted her. Her head lolled to one side and he used his shoulder to get her to lean against his chest. She was so weak, so fragile.
But she was a fighter too, his Gwen. And she was his. His heart and his soul.
Louis hurried past him into the bathroom and dumped the lone bag of ice they had into the tub. It was already half filled with cold water.
“Slowly,” Gator warned him.
Jacque nodded and bent over, letting her toes hit the water first, then her legs and torso. She cried out, a pitiful sound that shattered his heart. He stopped and glanced at Gator.
“You don’t have a choice. She’ll die for sure if we can’t break that fever.”
Steeling himself against her whimpers, he put her in the tub and knelt beside it, keeping his arm around her shoulders. The T-shirt she was wearing was quickl
y soaked through and became transparent. Jacque didn’t care. If it helped her live, he didn’t care who saw her naked.
Cole turned off the water, leaving the room in silence except for the harsh sounds of Gwen’s breathing. There wasn’t space for all of them in the bathroom so the rest of the men retreated to the bedroom to give him and Gwen some privacy. He was very afraid they’d all lost hope and were giving him time to say his goodbyes.
He closed his eyes briefly and swallowed back tears. How had it come to this? When he’d met her all he’d wanted to do was protect her from his father. How quickly that had changed into him wanting to keep her in his life forever.
“Gwen.” He traced the parchment-thin skin on her face. It was so pale now, not rosy with life and color as it usually was. “I’m so sorry I got you into this mess.”
“Not. Your. Fault.” The three barely audible words shocked him. His gaze flew to hers. Her eyes were open and slightly unfocused.
“I’m not sorry I found you.” He continued talking to her, hoping if he did she’d stay with him. “I’m just sorry I didn’t do a better job protecting you.” The words were bitter and scarred his soul.
He lifted her wet hand to his mouth and kissed it. She was still too hot. He couldn’t tell if the ice bath was helping her or not. He felt the slightest pressure of her finger, as though she was trying to squeeze his hand but didn’t have the strength.
Jacque knew the others could hear every word he spoke. Their hearing was too keen and they were only a few feet away in the other room. But he didn’t care who knew how he felt about Gwen.
“I love you,” he told her. “I’ll never love another woman the way I love you. You’re it for me, Gwen. My mate. My life. My other half. You’re my purpose for being here.”
She shivered and parted her dry lips. “Love—” That was as far as she got before her entire body seized. Something rippled beneath her skin. It reminded him of his wolf taking over his body just before he shifted.
Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1 Page 21