by Drea Roman
A couple of hours pass as I pace the floor of the OR waiting room. When Dr. Loomis comes through the double doors, I jump up in anticipation of his news.
“Is he all right?” I ask before the good doctor can speak a word. Loomis looks tired, but he smiles at me kindly.
“Yes. Luckily, the ankle was not as bad as it first appeared on the X-rays. It was almost as if the healing process had already begun. Do you know if he’s a shifter?”
I bow my head and shake it in the negative. “No. He doesn’t smell like any shifter I’ve met before, but he doesn’t quite smell human either.”
The doctor nods. “That was my impression as well. At this point, it doesn’t matter much, but if his healing continues to improve rapidly, then we’ll know he’s not human, at least. The ankle didn’t require pins as I originally thought it would. We put in some stitches and cast it. The head injury resulted in a concussion, for which you will have to monitor him. You’re a firefighter, right?”
I nod. “I have the basic EMT certification so I know what watch out for.”
“Your mate will be in a room soon. He is in recovery for at least another half an hour. Considering his concussion, he may be dizzy, groggy, and unaware of his surroundings. I plan to keep him for 24 hours, just to make sure everything is going well. Do you have any questions for me right now?”
When I shake my head no, Dr. Loomis nods, but his expression turns even more serious than it was a moment ago as we discussed my mate’s injuries. “There is one more thing. Neither you nor we know what his name is or what his wishes are. I know you’ve caught his scent, but I will not release him into your care unless he agrees. Do you understand?”
His tone is not aggressive, but matter-of-fact, yet my wolf is pissed all the same. A growl rumbles in my chest, and I have to swallow hard to stop the sound. A smirk flashes across the doctor’s face before he manages to school it. Normally, I would laugh at how hard he has to work to remain professional. It is clear he finds my reactions amusing, even if he does appear to understand them. He is a wolf, after all.
Since I cannot trust what might come out of my mouth since my wolf is angry, I just nod.
“Excellent,” he responds, clapping me on the shoulder. “The nurses will let you know when your mate is in his room.” With that, he leaves me, alone again in the waiting room.
Lucky for me, it does not take long before the nurses wheel my still-unconscious mate down the hall. One of them gestures for me to follow, so I do. Within a few minutes, they have him settled into a room. He has an IV line and a monitor for his heartbeat, since he just came out of surgery.
“It is not likely he will wake up soon. You can stay if you like, but it is almost six a.m. on Thanksgiving. If you have plans, you could come back and see him later.” The same nurse who wheeled him away to surgery pats my arm in a comforting gesture.
I shake my head. “No.” My voice comes out in a croak, so I try again. “No, I’m supposed to go to the dinner at the fire station, but I’m not on duty. I want to be here when he wakes up.”
She smiles at me. “Well then, I will bring you a cot and a blanket. It may be a while before he wakes up naturally, but one of the attending doctors will be by in an hour or so to check on his vitals.” It does not take her long to find the cot for me, and after she sets it up, I lie back on it and stare at the ceiling, unsure what to do.
“Fuck this,” I murmur, sitting back up. No way I’m going to be able to sleep right now. Damn it, I wish I had my phone. It occurs to me that I need to let my boss, Avi, the fire chief, and my team know where I am. They will be expecting me for Thanksgiving dinner tonight. The team would thrash me if I just didn’t show up without so much as a call. Rising from the cot, I stretch my arms above my head. A noise draws my attention to the bed, and I find my mate mumbling in his sleep. I step closer and bend down so I can hear what he is saying.
“Nick,” he murmurs. A frown forms on his face, but he doesn’t wake up. Gingerly, I touch the top of his head. His head wound has been cleaned. It did not require stitches but bears several steri-strips, closing the edges of the gash.
“We’re going too fast! We’re going to crash!” His voice rises in alarm and volume, but his eyes remain tightly closed.
“Shh,” I murmur in his ear. “You’re all right. I’ve got you.” I pet his hair, and he settles under my touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his breathing evens out again. I wait a few moments before leaving him to sleep while I search out a phone.
Since it is morning, there is a new shift of nurses at the station down the hall. When I exit my mate’s room, one of them looks up from her work and smiles. “Mr. Williams, how is our patient doing?”
“He’s still sleeping. Do you have a phone I could use to call my boss? I accidentally left my cell phone behind.” She doesn’t need to know it is stuck in my pants pocket in a tree in my woods.
“Sure.” She points out a phone on the wall across from the nurse’s station. “Dial nine for an outside line.”
When I pick up the receiver, I hesitate a moment. What am I going to say? I guess that depends on who answers the phone. Best to keep it short and sweet. I dial the number for the main office inside the Vale Valley Firehouse. Someone grabs it on the second ring.
“Hello. You got the Firehouse. What’s burnin’?”
Despite myself, I laugh. “Eddie, how many times has Avi told you not to answer the phone like that?”
“Darren! Where you at? Aren’t you supposed to be down here helping me cook these damn turkeys? Two twenty-pound birds. It’s gonna take forever.”
Shaking my head, I laugh at my best friend, glad to hear a familiar voice. A wave of longing hits me, and I desperately wish my dad were here in this moment. I shallow hard, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in my throat. “Umm, look, Eddie, I’m not gonna make it in today. You’ll have to do Thanksgiving without me. It shouldn’t be too big of a deal. Just shake another horse awake and put him to work.”
Eddie’s voice is threaded with concern. “What’s up, Darren? You need some help?”
“I’m at the hospital. But before you go jumping to conclusions, I’m here with my mate.”
“Your mate?! You found your mate? Damn, bro. Way to bury the lead. Who is it? Wait, did you just say you’re at the hospital?”
I sigh. “Yeah, long story short, he has a concussion, and they operated on his ankle last night. We won’t get out of here until Friday. I just wanted to let you guys know, so you don’t try to hunt me down.”
Eddie’s voice is flat. “No. You ain’t gonna leave me hanging like that. What happened? Don’t make me send Colt down there to beat the truth out of you.”
I laugh. Colt, the gentle Clydesdale shifter, is the last person who would beat information out of anyone. Though, considering his size, most people would spill their guts if he looked at them crossly, not that he ever would. “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.”
“Seriously, bro. What happened? You can’t just call me, say you aren’t coming to Thanksgiving dinner with your family, drop a bombshell about an injured mate, and then hang up on me.”
Eddie sounds so exasperated with me that I laugh again, the warmth of his friendship bringing my anxiety over my mate down the slightest bit. “You know my dad’s old horse barn. That’s where I found him. After he crashed a sleigh into the outer fence of my property. He has a severe concussion, and they operated on his ankle, which turned out to be less shattered than they thought going in. They won’t be releasing him until sometime tomorrow, but that’s only if he’s good enough to go. And as Dr. Loomis made clear, he won’t leave with me unless he wants to.”
“Shhiiittt.” Eddie draws out the word until it has three syllables. “A sleigh, you said. Don’t tell me you caught one of Santa’s elves.” While Eddie laughs, my heart skips a beat. The Christmas hat, his strange shoes, his diminutive size. No. It can’t be. Santa’s elves aren’t real.
“Hardy har har, Eddie. Just let the guys
know why I won’t be there. And save some of your mom’s dressing for me. You know it’s my favorite.”
“Sure thing. Take care and kiss your mate for me.” Before I can hang up on him, my best friend makes kissing noises into the phone, making me laugh again.
Exactly five hours and twenty-six minutes after my call to Eddie, my mate finally starts to wake up. I tried again to sleep on the cot, but the combined sounds and scents of the hospital along with my injured mate kept me awake. Eventually, I gave up and grabbed some coffee. Since then, I’ve sat in a hard hospital chair and watched the monitors, waiting for my mate to wake up.
First, I hear a tiny moan. Then he begins to shift underneath the hospital covers. “Nick.” The sound is muffled, but instead of excitement, the word unleashes a powerful wave of jealousy inside of me.
He sits bolt upright in bed and looks around the room frantically. When his eyes land on me, they flash with recognition. “Where’s Nick?” he asks again, this time with more panic in his voice. “Oh, my God! The sleigh. Felipe. Orion. Are they okay?”
I’m beside his bed in an instant. “You were the only one I found. Who are they? Your friends?”
A look of confusion crosses his face. Another moan escapes him, and I reach out to help him ease back down on the bed. “Easy does it. You just had surgery on your ankle. I’m gonna call the doctor.”
I reach over him to snag the emergency call remote, but he grabs my arm in a surprisingly strong grip. “You have to find them,” he whispers in an imploring tone before he closes his eyes and drops his head back down on his pillow. After I hit the button with the nurse icon—a stick figure wearing a hat with a cross on it, that weird universal sign of these medical professionals—I put the remote down by his hand.
A nurse comes in a moment later. I step back so she can check my mate. As she examines him, she asks him questions quietly, and he answers in a tired voice. The nurse leaves after promising to call the doctor. My mate looks frightened, and I pull his cold hand into mine.
“It’s going to be fine,” I reassure him, and he offers me a small smile.
“Yes,” he breathes out with a sigh. “At least I’ve found you.” He squeezes my hand, and I stand there holding it as we look silently at each other until the doctor arrives a few moments later. I’m surprised to see that Doctor Loomis is still on duty.
“Long shift?” I ask.
Loomis nods. “I’m at the end of it. You know how it is, being a firefighter yourself.” Then he turns his attention to my mate. “Let’s take a look at you now that you are awake.” The doctor surprises me by taking my mate’s blood pressure himself before checking on first the ankle and the head wound. When he is finished, he makes a note on his chart before speaking.
“The ankle is healing remarkably well, especially since you aren’t a shifter. If you don’t mind, what are you exactly? I can tell you are not human. You are healing as quickly as a shifter, but I am fairly certain you aren’t one. If I know your species, I can treat you better.”
My mate frowns and shoots me a nervous glance. “Umm… I don’t remember?” It comes out like a question.
“Okay,” Dr. Loomis responds. “Do you know where you are?”
The tiny man in the bed surprises us both by snorting out a laugh. “Clearly, I’m in a hospital.” He waves his free hand at the heart monitor, and a strange tinkling noise sounds, very similar to jingle bells. He jerks his hand back and stares at it before letting it drop into his lap.
Obviously choosing to ignore the odd moment, Dr. Loomis continues his questioning. “Do you know how you got here?”
My mate pauses and glances at me. “My mate brought me in.”
My heart soars, and I cannot help the full smile that spreads across my face. The tiny blond grins back at me, and we stare at one another for a few full seconds before the doctor so rudely interrupts.
“Yes, as to that, you recognize him as your mate? You’re okay with him making medical decisions for you?” I wonder why the doctor isn’t calling me by name and realize he never asked my mate his. Dr. Loomis gives me a kind smile, and I understand. He is letting us introduce ourselves, an opportunity my mate’s condition has not allowed us so far. I nod in understanding before looking at my mate to see what he thinks.
“Of course. He’s my mate.” His voice holds excitement, and he squeezes my hand again.
“Good, that certainly makes things easier. Your head wound appears to be improving, but from your answers to my questions, I am beginning to suspect some low-grade amnesia. I need to ask you a few more questions before I let you get some more rest. Do you know how you came to be injured?”
My mate looks at me, unsure. “I crashed into a fence. No, we crashed into a fence. In the sleigh.” When I nod, his voice firms, and he sounds more confident. “I walked to a barn, and that’s where he found me.” He turns back to the doctor. “That’s all I remember.”
Dr. Loomis frowns. “Do you know where you came from?”
My hand is squeezed tightly, and I can feel the nervousness within my mate. “Somewhere snowy?” His voice trembles. “I . . . I . . . I really don’t know.” His voice drops off to a whisper. “I’m sorry.” He looks up at me with sorrow-filled eyes, and before I know it, I’ve cupped his chin and begun tracing my thumb back and forth across his bruised cheek.
“It’s okay,” I murmur to him. Dr. Loomis clears his throat to regain our attention, and I barely keep myself from snapping at the other wolf. Suddenly, I want him as far away from my mate as possible. Seeming to sense the new tension in me, my mate reaches up to grab my other hand, then pulls it down into his lap. Now he holds both of my hands just like he already holds my heart.
“I think the best thing to do right now is let you rest. I will send the neurology team a note about your memory. One of their doctors will likely come down today to do an evaluation. Hopefully, the memory loss is just a temporary symptom of your concussion. It is known to happen, so don’t worry too much about it.” He smiles at us kindly. “At least you have your mate here to take care of you.”
After the doctor leaves, I let go of my mate’s hands and sit back down in the uncomfortable plastic chair. My emotions are all over the place, and I need to catch my breath. My mate, who is now settled back down again in the bed, sits and stares at me with a knowing and mischievous smile on his face. Where on earth did he find the pluck? A few minutes ago, he was panicking, unsure of his own surroundings. Now he looks at me as if he knows my every thought. We stare at each other for several moments, before my wolf’s jealous natures provides me with a topic of conversation.
“Who is Nick?” My voice comes out in a growl. I may not know the blond cutie’s name, but I do know he’s my mate. His delicious candy cane smell tempts me even now, and I struggle to keep a tight rein on my wolf. He wants to kiss, to nip, to lick our mate. While my human side agrees with that intent, we most certainly cannot do it now, not with the blond beauty bruised and battered, hooked up as he is to beeping machines and an IV line.
Instead of rising from the uncomfortable plastic chair, I interrogate him from across the room. Unfair, I know, but if I don’t find out more about him, I am going to go insane, most likely with jealousy over this “Nick.”
When my mate just blinks at me with a confused expression on his face, I add, “You kept moaning his name in your sleep.”
When he doesn’t answer, I growl out my question again, even as I feel like an ass for doing so.
“Who. Is. Nick?” Every word I emphasize precisely. The injured blond looks at me out of the corner of his crystal-clear blue eyes. There is a look of suspicion on his face before a cloud of confusion falls across it.
“I think he's my boss?” His voice rises, making that statement into a question, as if I would know the answer.
I can feel my wolf coming forward in me more than I usually allow. “You think?”
My mate turns to look at me more fully. The bruises are now more visible along his brow a
nd across his left cheek. He opens his mouth as if to continue but then closes it quickly and frowns.
“I really don't know. I just know the name ‘Nick’ and that he’s hurt. Beyond that, I’m unsure.” He shakes his head, then winces in pain.
“Don’t do that,” I chastise, my voice sounding too gruff even to my own ears. But my plucky little man just grins at me, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Oh, one thing I am sure of, though—you are my mate.” He throws me a blinding smile that hits me deeply in my chest.
My wolf feels more than a little bit cranky as he paces inside my mind. This night has been too much. Hell, it’s not even night anymore. Arms tingling, I look down to find my normally sparse black hairs are twice as thick. Suddenly, my eyeteeth feel too large in my mouth, and I swallow hard, trying to push back the beast that is my other half.
A laugh brings my attention back to the tiny man resting in the hospital bed. “Aren’t you going to ask my name, wolf?”
I squint at him, trying to figure him out. Though his smell wraps itself around me, creating the most heavenly sensations, I cannot figure out his animal or if he is a shifter at all. I try to take him in as if it were the first time I am seeing him. He is badly injured, with a severe concussion, broken ribs, a shattered ankle, and various bumps and bruises. Now he is showing signs of amnesia. Injured though he is, he just keeps smiling at me like my presence makes his day. Swallowing a sudden lump down my throat, I wonder what I truly have to offer such a ray of sunshine. My voice comes out hoarse when I speak. “What is your name?”
That tinkling laugh again, which sounds unearthly, ethereal, unreal, and like the sweetest music my ears have ever heard.
“Tuck, at your service,” he replies, inclining his head forward, like he might if he were standing upright and offering me a bow. When he winces, I stand, moving quickly to his bedside.