by Gigi Moore
One of the other wolves, however, wasn’t so lucky. He lay on his side, underside and throat covered in blood. The other one looked only minimally better, and that was probably because he was standing on all fours.
He limped around the one laying on his side, whining as he nudged him with his muzzle.
“Oh God, he’s hurt.” Desiree gasped, a lump in her throat as her eyes filled with tears. She would have been upset at the sight of the injured wolf even if she didn’t know who he was. That she knew he was one of the men she had earlier made love to made things even worse.
She knew, too, that the one who’d run off, the one who’d initially threatened her and Carson and Sam, was Remy Bastien. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did.
“Yep, pretty bad, too,” Jesse agreed.
“We have to help him.”
“I don’t think that one there will let us.” Jax jutted his chin in the direction of the wolf still standing.
He looked up at them, saliva and blood dripping down the sides of his muzzle as he growled and barked at them.
“He’ll probably attack if we go near the injured one.” As if to prove his point, Jesse made a move toward the animals and the standing wolf snarled at him, rumbling deep in his throat.
“What’ll we do? We can’t just let him die.”
“Maybe he’ll let you close,” Maia said to Desiree.
“Have you lost your marbles?” Jesse blurted. “If it’s not safe enough for Jax or me to go closer, what makes you think it’s safe for your sister?”
“Trust me.” Maia rubbed Desiree’s arm, giving her a meaningful look that made Desiree wonder if Maia had guessed the identity of the two wolves, too. “You can do this, Desi.”
“Stop talking nonsense. I say we all get back in our vehicles and head back to the ranch, do what Desiree suggested earlier and let Division of Wildlife handle this.”
“It’ll be too late by then,” Desiree whispered and didn’t know what she had been thinking to make the suggestion earlier. How could she let the Division of Wildlife handle these wolves, lock away the two men she loved as if they were…animals.
Her breath hitched in her chest at the two realizations—that she loved Carson and Sam and that they were wolf shifters.
Not in her wildest imaginings, not after years and years of reading tons and tons of all manner of paranormal romances, did Desiree ever think she would see her dreams come to pass.
Desiree couldn’t deny it any longer, however. The wolves in her dreams were Carson and Sam.
She supposed deep in her heart she’d always known, just didn’t want to admit it.
“Go on, sis. They won’t hurt you.”
How was Maia so sure about the wolves?
“I’m going to have to put a stop to this madness.” Jesse headed back toward his truck and waited for Jax, Maia, and Desiree to follow his lead. “Let’s go, y’all. Now.”
Desiree didn’t listen to him and took a couple of halting steps toward the wolves. Despite the fact that she was almost a hundred percent certain of who they were, Jesse’s words rang in her ear. “…an injured animal is a dangerous animal.”
How much of Carson and Sam’s consciences remained while they were in wolf form? Were they human enough to recognize Desiree, enough to understand that she didn’t mean either of them any harm?
“Desi, don’t,” Jesse said, his voice tinged with urgency.
She glanced back at him, then at Jax and Maia, who looked at her with expectant expressions that were strangely encouraging.
Desiree took several more steps forward until she was standing just a foot away from the two wolves.
The one who remained on all fours sat back on his haunches and barked at her in a nonthreatening way.
Desiree buried her hand in the dense black fur of his neck and whispered, “Carson?”
The wolf tilted back his head and howled then gave her a pleading look as he motioned to Sam lying on the ground.
She turned to get a better look at the tawny wolf’s wounds and swallowed down a healthy dose of bile that threatened to spew from her mouth and splatter the grass. There was so much blood, more than she had ever seen before outside of a horror or gory war movie. This was real, up close and personal. Someone she cared about bled to death before her eyes.
“I’ll be damned.”
Desiree looked over her shoulder to see Jesse had joined Jax and Maia, looking at her in awe as she knelt beside the injured wolf and rubbed his pelt.
“I told you,” Maia said.
“What, that your sister’s a wolf whisperer?”
Desiree chuckled through her tears, glad that she was able to see the humor in Jax’s words. If she could laugh, then maybe everything would turn out all right.
Not unless they got Sam to a doctor, though, and soon.
How could they do that without divulging who the wolf was? Would it be easier to take him to a vet? Did shifters have the same anatomy as full wolves? Would a vet find something in Sam’s anatomy to tip him or her off and perhaps put Sam in danger of being imprisoned and studied like a freak, for the sake of science?
Maia, always full of great ideas, said, “Why don’t you boys go back to the ranch, and Desiree and I will handle things from here.”
Jesse and Jax reacted just the way Desiree thought they would. They both looked at Maia as if she had grown another head.
“Handle things from here?” Jesse asked.
“Yes. It’s obvious that Desiree has things well under control. I’ll help her get the wolves into your truck so that we can transport them to a safe place to heal. You can take the Jeep. The keys are still in the ignition.”
“That wolf needs a vet. Both of them do.”
“We’ll handle it.” Maia pushed both men back toward the Jeep. “Just call Division of Wildlife to report the one that got away.”
Jesse arched a brow. “And not these two.”
“It doesn’t matter. They’ll be long gone by the time the people from Division of Wildlife come out here. Tell them anything.”
Jesse gaped, looking at her as if it dawned on him right then who the two wolves were. Just as quickly, he shook his head, as if to deny realization.
It didn’t matter. Desiree already knew for sure that he believed the wolves were The Double R’s two MIA night wranglers. “Let’s head back. They’ve got it from here,” Jesse said.
“You sure?” Jax frowned.
“Yeah. Let’s git.”
Desiree watched as Jesse tossed Maia the keys to the truck before he headed for the Jeep with his brother. A minute later, Jesse started the Jeep, driving through the forest from where they had come. Maia sighed. “God, I thought they’d never leave.”
“You know,” Desiree said.
“That these here fine young wolves are Carson and Sam? Yep.”
Desiree wasn’t even shocked. She’d half suspected it, after all. “I think Jesse and Jax believe it, too.”
“Probably.”
“So are you going to bring the truck over and help me load him in?” Desiree asked.
Maia stood at attention and saluted. “Right away, ma’am.” She headed for Jesse’s truck then turned back to Desiree and gave her a long look. “Are you okay with this, Desi?”
Desiree responded with almost the same answer she had given Carson when he’d asked her the exact identical question so much earlier in the evening. “I honestly don’t know yet, Maia.” She paused and looked down at the tawny-colored wolf—looked down at Sam. She caressed his soft pelt with one hand and put pressure on his wounds with the other as she willed him to hold on. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them to stare at her sister. “But I know we can’t let him die, so you’d better get moving now and we won’t have to worry about that.”
* * * *
The wee hours that had snuck up on all of them since leaving the emergency room with Maia and Desiree what seemed like a lifetime ago proved the perfect cover for transpor
ting two bloody and naked bodies—one animal and one human—through the woods and back to their mama’s house for refuge.
Sam, however, hadn’t shifted, and this worried Carson more than anything. If he didn’t shift, he wouldn’t be able to heal. If he didn’t heal…
“He’s not going to die, Carson,” Maia said as she brought the pickup to a screeching halt in the driveway beside the two-story farmhouse he and Sam shared with Mama.
He remained sure he would never get used to that woman’s fey way as long as he lived but was glad of her sensitivity in the situation and hoped she proved right.
“Help us get him inside.”
Carson glanced back over his shoulder to see his brother reclining on the backseat with his head resting on Desiree’s lap. Desiree gently caressed his pelt, seemingly oblivious to all the blood Sam had been shedding on her clothes since they’d left the clearing by the stream. The red hoodie Desiree had pressed against Sam’s midsection was soaked through, totally ruined.
What had been on Sam’s mind? It had been a really boneheaded move, but then his brother had always been on the impulsive side, more impulsive than Carson had ever been.
Carson, however, never would have predicted Sam’s attacking Remy like that, and he wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t witnessed it with his own two eyes.
He was going to have to have a serious talk with the peeshwank about his timing as soon as Sam was well enough to listen, that is if he didn’t strangle the whelp with his bare hands first.
Carson pulled the blanket Maia had provided from the backseat of Jesse’s truck tighter around his body. “I’ll carry him.” He got out of the passenger seat and circled the front of the truck before opening the back door.
He reached in to gather Sam in his arms and paused when Desiree whispered, “Be careful with him.” He gave her a sad smile and said, “I will.” Carson lifted Sam in his arms, grimacing at the wolf’s dead weight but even more at the pitiful whine that emitted from his brother’s throat.
Once Carson had gotten Sam out and cleared the backseat, Desiree got out of the truck and headed for the front door of the house, where Helena had already flung it open.
“Oh God, did you boys overdo the roughhousing?”
“I wish.” Carson shook his head. “It was Remy.” He pushed past his mother into the house. He didn’t add anything, knew he didn’t have to.
“Where is he now?”
“Don’t know. He ran off after…this.”
“My poor Samson.” Mama glanced at Sam in his brother’s arms, gently burrowing a hand in his fur and caressing him. “You’re home now. You’re going to be okay, bebe.” She looked up to see Desiree and Maia entering the house behind Carson, then looked to Carson as if for help.
“They know all about us. At least the shape-shifting part.”
“Oh, well then…”
“Tell us what we need to do to help,” Desiree said.
“Yes. Use us,” Maia added.
Mama gave them a rueful smile as Carson wrapped the blanket around his brother before gently placing him on the country floral sofa in the living room for the time being.
“You can put on a pot of water to heat so that we can clean his wounds.”
“I’ll do it,” Maia volunteered, and Carson left his brother to follow her into the kitchen.
He showed her where the pots were, and Maia retrieved a medium-size one, filled it with water, and put the pot on the stove to heat.
“You know this is all a waste of time, don’t you?”
“Don’t say that.”
“I mean he doesn’t need any of this. Once he shifts, he’ll accelerate the healing process and it’ll be as if he was never injured.”
“But he’s not shifting.” Maia frowned. “Why not?”
Carson leaned against the kitchen counter beside the sink and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not sure.”
“Maybe he can’t.”
It was a possibility that Carson had considered and dreaded on the way over. He’d heard of it happening before. Shifters injured so badly that they were too weak to make the shift.
Not Sam. Not my brother! “If he doesn’t shift soon, it’ll be too late.”
“Well then, we have to make him shift.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Oh, so that stubbornness runs in the family.”
Carson shook his head, wanted to laugh at Maia’s teasing, but couldn’t find it in his heart to smile. His brother might be dying, and there he stood in the kitchen, naked, calmly discussing Sam’s inability to shift and the probable consequences.
He was naked! Merde, he needed to get into some clothes.
Maia smiled when he gaped at her with the realization that he was standing alone with her in a room, naked. Granted, nudity wasn’t usually a big deal for a shifter, but this was his…his quasi-sister-in-law, after all.
He’d forgotten all about his and Sam’s clothes at the clearing, and by the time he’d thought about it, he’d already shifted, and Maia had arrived offering the blanket, which he’d quickly accepted. Things had happened so suddenly he hadn’t had time to think about getting decent for anyone.
“Why don’t you go wash all that blood off and put on something clean? I’ve got things under control here.”
Carson liked the way she took charge and didn’t waste time doing her bidding.
He headed for the back stairs leading up to the bedrooms and took them three at a time until he reached his room. He took a quick shower, got into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and headed back down the carpeted stairs, still barefoot.
He made it to the living room in time to see his mother sitting on the sofa beside Sam. He watched as she gently cleaned the blood from his underside and neck with the warm water and a rag Maia had brought her.
“There are so many,” Mama murmured as if in shock that her baby had survived the countless gashes and bites covering his body.
Sam hadn’t stood a chance, really. Remy had been vicious in his retaliation. Granted, Sam was an excellent fighter and had gotten better over the years practicing with Carson, but had Carson not been there tonight to rally round, he didn’t think Sam would have survived Remy’s counterattack at all.
Again he wondered what had been on his brother’s mind striking like that, hoping that he would get the chance to ask him and find out.
He sat on the arm of the sofa as gently as possible so as not to jar his brother but thought that something needed to jar the peeshwank. “He’s too weak to shift.”
“It’s possible with all the blood loss,” Mama said. She raised her head from her task and glanced at Desiree and Maia standing nearby. She stared at them as if suddenly realizing she was discussing intimate pack secrets in front of strangers. The idea wasn’t actually too far from the truth. “You girls should go now. There’s nothing else you can do here.”
“I’d like to stay,” Desiree said, giving Mama an appealing look. “Please don’t send me away now, Helena.”
Carson saw something pass between the two women as they looked at each other, something he didn’t quite understand, but something he felt down deep nonetheless.
The silence, those looks, scared him like a conspiracy, as if the two women had come to a decision about him.
He knew that he had come to a realization about Desiree in that moment: he had completely lost his heart to her.
Chapter 17
Remy sat in his Mercedes SUV eyeing the glass doors out front of the towering building where he had subleased a penthouse apartment for the duration of his stay. Of course, there was a uniformed security guard stationed at the reception desk in the building’s sleek and sumptuous marble lobby.
He took a deep breath, ribs still aching from that cheeky, impetuous whelp’s surprise attack. The gashes had healed, but the internal injuries would take a little longer to repair.
That Samson Guidry had done his share of damage before Remy recovered enough to spank him
down to size and show him who remained boss.
Remy had to gather himself enough to pass muster and not raise the curiosity of the guard. Not that the man would ever in a million years guess at what had happened to Remy, but better safe than sorry.
He hadn’t yet gotten over the younger one’s aggression. He had expected it from Carson, especially after Ben’s oldest had made the accusation. He supposed he should have been prepared for anything at that point. Neither brother had anything to lose.
Rarely did Remy regret anything he had done to get where he was, but so many times since Ben’s death he wished he could go back and change the way he had done things. True, he would not change the result—Ben had grown suspicious of Remy’s feelings for Helena over the years since he had brought her into the fold, and he had to be eliminated—but Remy could have hired someone to do the deed at Guidry’s Bar and Grill that night. He’d done it in the past with acceptable results, and he was high enough up on the food chain to avoid getting his hands dirty with the wet work, after all. From the beginning, however, things had always been intimate and personal where Ben and Helena were concerned. He’d wanted to make sure that the deed was done right, and the only way to ensure that had always been to do things himself.
He had been so careful in every other aspect of his groundwork, preparing for every contingency except the one that involved Ben’s oldest showing up at the restaurant as Remy left.
Like years before, tonight he hadn’t proved as prepared as he had first thought himself. He had certainly not been ready for either of the whelps’ opposition, at least not the intensity of their resistance. He must be getting lax in his old age, thinking he could handle two young, able-bodied shifters by himself.
Remy had handled more and worse in the past. Things were different now, though. He had more at stake, the future of his mate for one.
Nothing had changed. He remained determined to make Helena his for life, even more so now. He’d never been one to back down from a challenge, and the one the two young men represented energized him, excited him like he hadn’t been over anything in a long time.