Chapter 18

 

Next evening, Patrick awoke feeling better, though far from ready to run through the city for the last night of this moon. His ribs had knitted, however, his bruising reduced though still tender. He got up tentatively and walked to the bathroom to look in the mirror. He wasn’t a pretty sight. His nose had fused, as straight as before but with a small bump where the break had been. The bite mark on his face had sealed, though there would always be a scar. His shoulder was a mess, still. The deep puncture wounds were purple and yet seeped pus. It was little wonder people believed werewolf bites would infect you with lunacy.

His stomach cried out for food but he silenced it with a bottle of wine. He wanted to know what Justin looked like. “Let’s go see the patient, shall we?”

Conor opened one eye and closed it again. “Hope to hell he looks worse than you.”

“I’m more worried about his leg.”

Justin’s scars were indeed more disfiguring than Patrick’s. His lips were still swollen lumps of purple flesh, his cheek a ragged jigsaw puzzle piece. Nor could he walk. His leg would need another few days, possibly a week.

Patrick would be better able to face the world after another full moon night of healing. Nevertheless, he had to tell the clan now. Justin needed a doctor to make sure his bones were knitting straight; they’d be healed very soon. And they had to get some food worth eating.

The rooms had phones, but he didn’t want to leave a record. Better the family phone here.

“Get Stephan,” he told Samuel.

“Hello to you, too, Patrick,” Justin said.

Patrick nodded. He didn’t feel much like talking to Justin. He was glad he had Samuel to do the spoon-feeding. As, no doubt, was Justin; at least he was dominant to Samuel. “You hungry?”

“You need to ask?”

“We’ll get you something.”

Stephan came in. “What’s up? We getting out of here, or you want me to make a drink run?”

“Go make a phone call to your parents. Tell them where we are and get them to send Matthew Evans and some food. Give them the phone numbers, too.”

He didn’t particularly want to talk to his own parents, but he’d better give the number in case his father wanted to speak immediately.

He called Samuel, and told him to keep the door locked. “Don’t let him out unless he’s already dead. Call me if you can’t kill him yourself.” Then he went back to bed, and when Stephan returned to keep watch on Justin, sent Conor out to hunt with Samuel.

By the time they’d brought back a small deer, the doctor had come and gone. He said Justin could be taken home next day, carefully, to finish his recuperation where he’d be better fed and better entertained.

Once they’d all eaten, Patrick went back to bed again. He sent Stephan out to find some company for a while. When he returned, he sent out Samuel, keeping Stephan watching Justin. Conor had his turn last while Samuel stayed with the patient.

Justin would not move that night. Not until Patrick was again fit enough to kill him if need be. Never would Patrick let himself be unable to bring to Justin the death he’d let him escape.

At the same time, however, though he was himself almost helpless, he knew his pack mates would defend him unto death now. Possibly even Justin; though Patrick wasn’t about to bet anything at all on that.

* * *

Patrick was awakened by the sound of a van pulling up. He looked out the window, only wincing slightly at the effort of sitting up in bed. Sebastian stepped out of the vehicle.

Conor opened the door for him as he carried two shopping bags inside.

“Well, young pups. Had a fight, have we?”

Patrick smiled. After James, Sebastian was the nicest face he’d have wished to see of all the clan. Someone had been thinking of them, and figured the youngest of the old pack would be the least objectionable messenger.

Sebastian looked at Patrick. His eyes flicked up and down as he took in the injuries. He grinned. “I won’t ask to see the other guy. Here’s some good grub. Don’t want you out here eating slop from those burger joints over there. Bowel cancer on a plate. Take it from me.”

Patrick nodded. Stephan and Conor helped unpack the bags onto the table.

“Thanks, Sebastian. I appreciate it.”

“Luke’s father says you should be able to take the patient home in the morning?”

“Yes. I’d like to get home myself.”

“Yeah. Have a good weekend. Oh, here are some pills. The pain will kick in soon.”

Patrick gladly took the packet Sebastian handed him, popping it open immediately. Once the moon set and the sun rose fully, the endorphins which had kept the agony subdued would wash out of his system.

“Thanks.” He threw a couple of pills into his mouth and swallowed them with the help of a bottle of Fiji water Conor had opened.

“Well,” Sebastian said, heading for the door. “Be seeing you.”

“Going?” Conor asked.

Sebastian nodded. “Yeah. It’s Saturday. I have kids to entertain. And I’d like to catch up on some sleep myself. You think you’re the only people who’ve been up all night?”

Stephan and Conor laughed. Patrick waved, then immediately began to tuck into the supplies.

Samuel came in and took some food for him and his patient. “Anyone want to take over watching Justin?” he asked on his way out.

Conor laughed even louder. Stephan shook his head with a wry grin. Patrick smiled and replied, “I’ll send someone in after breakfast.”

Conor raised an eyebrow. “Uh, the full moon is over...”

“I’m still the leash until you go home.”

“So see you later. I’m off home.”

Patrick chuckled. “As soon as you do your stint, you’re free to go.”

Conor grumbled and took a bite of roast chicken.

Patrick finished his glass of milk and stood up. “I’m going for a walk. Let the sun heal me.”

* * *

Cora sat in the shade of some beech trees lining the property. The motel owners had thoughtfully placed wooden benches under them for the repose of their clients. Unfortunately, they’d not thought to paint them since installing them over a decade before. The chipped paint dug into her thighs through the sheer tights she wore under a miniskirt and blouse. She hoped her attire would entice Patrick to indulge in some lovemaking despite his injuries.

She was feeling even more excited to see him today than when she’d stalked the pack and ambushed him during the full moon.

She’d loved their tryst that night. It had been the first time she’d ever made love to a member of their clan during the full moon. When she was a young woman she’d have loved to go out with the pack. That just wasn’t done, however. Cora had not even asked her father, knowing what his response would be.

Cora had done what she wanted once she’d left home, had often gone out during the full moon. She’d avoided the few members of the old pack while they’d still been running, though, as she roamed the city and picked up men. It had been a lot of fun, but not nearly as viscerally arousing as encountering her werewolf on the streets.

And now she was fervent to embrace him again.

But she was patient. She didn’t want to walk in on the pack. She’d wait till Patrick came to her. When Sebastian had left, he’d assured her Patrick was not badly injured. He couldn’t stay inside all day. He’d need to get out, get some air. The full moon was over now, and he’d no need to stay in such confinement with his wards.

The same could not be said of Justin. Though she was in some small way, if indirectly, responsible for Justin getting shot, she did not feel at all guilty about it. He was, after all, a foolhardy child. He’d shown that again in trying to challenge Patrick for leadership. He deserved his injuries. She’d known Patrick would win. He hadn’t noticed it himself, but she’d seen him grow into his role as pack leash. She had her alpha.

At least she thought so.

She didn’t regret turning up in the least. That one fuck was worth ten in her apartment, rich as those experiences had been. It had convinced her that she wanted him as her mate. But Patrick had been cooler the last time he’d called by. Said he wasn’t sure he was ready for a mate, even though that mate would be her if he were. He’d told Ms Swan to cancel all his appointments.

Cora had given him the space, had stayed away during this moon, but she could not stay away now. She wanted to see him, check his scars, congratulate him on beating his challenger, on cementing his position as leash. And she hoped to convince him he could be both her mate and leash, that now Justin was reined in, Patrick could leave the pack for a few minutes each moon.

She watched Patrick leave the motel room and stroll across the parking lot, squinting against the sunlight beaming through the boughs of the trees above her. When he was halfway across he spotted her and halted. For a moment he stood still, and Cora wasn’t sure he wouldn’t just keep walking. Had she miscalculated in coming here? Should she have waited till he came to her when he was ready? She held her breath, uncrossed and crossed her legs, as if that might make him change his mind, if he’d indeed decided to ignore her.

He shook his head and headed over. “Well, this is an even greater surprise, Cora. How did you find us this time?”

She smiled back, relieved, then shrugged dismissively. “The news is all around. It wasn’t hard to follow Sebastian.”

She shifted over to give Patrick room to sit down beside her.

“Come to take me home?”

“You want me to?”

“I could do with some tender loving care, if you’re asking.” He sat down and leaned back carefully. He didn’t put his arm around her, but laid a hand on her knee. “A weekend of sun like this and shady trees like these, picnics and long snoozes on your sofa and sleeping in your soft bed might just set me right.”

“What do you think I’m here for?”

“You don’t mind the scar?”

She shook her head and grinned. “Oh, no. It turns me on. I can hardly stop myself from licking it.”

“Please do stop yourself. I can’t defend myself if you jump on me.”

“Then you better lie down and get ready for it. Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

“Really? As in right now?”

She chuckled. “You forget, Patrick, that for a woman like me, the smell of blood and testosterone is as aphrodisiacal as the pheromone. This is as sexy as it gets for me. I don’t see the means—the scar. Only the end—the winning. And the scar is a reminder of that. I will worship the scar.”

“I was close to killing your nephew.”

“That’s true. But you didn’t. I do love that little rascal. But I have a niece, too, who’s much nicer. And I think we will have plenty of babysitters when we need them.”

Patrick put his hand to his ribs as if that sentence physically pained him. “But not right now.”

She laughed again. She wouldn’t dream of taking him off the streets during the full moon, but was delighted to sense that if she really pulled, he’d follow. “Let’s see what happens. First, I think you’d better tell Conor to take a walk.”