Taken by the Pack (9 page)

Jackson tucked a handgun into the waistband of his pants. “We roll in five.”

“Give me the highlights.” Cold authority filled Luc’s voice. Jackson must have recognized it, because he cursed and started talking.

“I got sloppy. A pair of skin hunters got the jump on me. When I came to, I was shackled in a hunting cabin about twenty miles from here.”

Luc nodded. ”The human?”

“Already dead. They’d ripped his throat out feedin’.”

“Injuries?” Luc didn’t waste words and Eden didn’t miss Jackson’s sideways glance at herself.

“
Oui
, but I’m one hundred percent now. Eden patched up my wolf. I’ll fight just fine.”

“Not one hundred percent,” she felt compelled to say. Sure, he healed faster than anyone she’d ever known, but he wasn’t all better.

Luc stepped closer, examining Jackson’s bare torso. There was no missing the bright pink scar cutting over his ribs and down his side.

Luc’s gaze turned toward her. She’d admit it. He scared the piss out of her. She had zero desire to see this man in his wolf form. Cold eyes. Calculating, and clearly he didn’t see any value to her presence. There was a moment of silence while he assessed her and clearly found her wanting.

“Eden’s my mate.” Jackson’s voice was low and hard.

Something flickered in Luc’s eyes. “You’re sure?”

Jackson nodded curtly and handed Eden a stack of clothes. “Dress.”

She opened her mouth to protest, because she wasn’t a doll or a toy, but he stared back at her. “You’ll be more comfortable,” and then to Luc. “The blue moon led me right to her. Lit her up and all.”

Luc cursed, making it clear he wasn’t happy about any potential hook-up between her and Jackson. Was there some kind of werewolf hierarchy or aristocracy? Maybe Jackson was supposed to pick a wolf bride. She didn’t know how this worked, but one thing was perfectly clear. Luc wouldn’t have chosen her.

Fine by her.

“You intend to take her into the bayou?” Luc asked dryly.

“
Oui
.” Jackson motioned for her to get dressed. In front of his brother. Maybe he hadn’t been kidding about that whole Pack thing, but she wasn’t stripping down to her skin with an audience. Since she had a feeling that Jackson would be happy to help her out in the getting naked department, she got up and headed for the clinic’s one tiny restroom. The small room smelled like apples and cinnamon air freshener, but there was plenty of light from a small window set near the ceiling and a bench to set her stuff on. She dragged on the clothes Jackson’s brother had provided while she waited for a plan to magically occur to her. Crazy. She was crazy.

Too bad crazy had never felt so good.

As she zipped and buttoned, however, the feel good feeling evaporated. Luc and Jackson were having a low, terse argument and she didn’t need to be a genius to figure out that she was starring front and center in their debate.

”She goes where I go,” Jackson snapped.

“You have an obligation to keep her safe. What part of draggin’ her reluctant ass out there fits that description? You bring her out there, you put her into play on a battlefield. The skin hunters would love to get their hands on her.”

“No one will touch her.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“You wan’ to take her as your mate, you keep her safe. There’s nothin’ safe about a midnight hunt in the bayou.”

“The skin hunters came back for Dag’s mate. She stays with me.”

Luc cursed. “Not good enough.”

“
And
she’s a vet.”

“Who already patched you up.”

“Not me.” There was a loud rasp as Jackson zipped up the bag. “There was another wolf out there. He’s goin’ to need help.”

“He may be dead by now.” Luc sounded almost as if he were discussing the weather. Sports scores. Something he really, really didn’t give a shit about. Except that there was that flash of
something
in his eyes. He cared.

He just didn’t want anyone to know.

Jackson’s answering curse said her self-proclaimed mate was on the same mental page as his Alpha. “It’s a definite maybe. I couldn’t take him with me when I ran. He’s injured and close to losing himself in the wolf.”

Right. Time to stage an intervention. She had no idea what
losing himself in the wolf
meant (although it sounded bad), but she was an expert in injured animals and the thought of leaving any creature out there, alone and hurting when she could do something…nope. Not happening on her watch. Sucking in a breath, she pushed the bathroom door open. Both men turned and stared at her. Yeah, they weren’t exactly channeling their inner welcome wagon.

“Tell me about the other wolf.”

When Luc didn’t immediately answer her, she glared at him. Screw this whole Pack hierarchy thing. Whatever rules Jackson played by, those weren’t her rules. Luc wasn’t the boss of her—even if her libido had managed to suggest two positively decadent fantasies in the five-second space while he stared right back at her. Jackson shifted behind her, his front pressed against her back.

Great. He thought she needed backup.

Then Luc gave a short bark. Wow. The sound might actually qualify as laughter.

“I like her,” he said to Jackson.

“Does he always talk about other people in the third person?” Maybe it was wolf etiquette, but it was more likely arrogant alpha male attitude. Yeah. There were adjectives that alliterated and that came to mind as well.
Asshole
topped her list at the moment.

Then he smiled. Oh, wow. She suddenly understood
exactly
how this werewolf pack reproduced. Luc was dangerous all right. His amused smile softened the hard edges of his face just enough that she started imagining what he’d look like if he let loose.

“You’re still not goin’ into the bayou, sweetheart. Tell me what to do and I’ll bring him out here to you.”

“I can think of plenty of things for you to
do
.” She’d bet Jackson’s badass brother had never taken an order in his life. Jackson wrapped an arm around her waist. His breath ruffled her hair as he leaned down.

“You’re playin’ with fire. My brother bites.”

“Tell me how to patch up the wolf,” he clarified. “And I only bite sometimes.”

“Uh-huh.” She had issues with his words, but frankly she wasn’t stupid. She’d push him some, but she wasn’t actually going to stick her hand in the lion’s mouth. She simply wasn’t that trusting and they didn’t have that kind of relationship. He could try again in ten or twenty years. “Tell me what you remember of the wolf’s injuries.”

As Jackson ran through what he’d seen, she pulled supplies from the cabinet and packed a bag.

“You’re going to need to sedate him before you move him. When you get to him, eyeball his weight. I’m going to give you enough tranquilizer to take down someone Jackson’s size. If your wolf is much larger or smaller, you’ll need to adjust.”

“You think you can guess what it would take to knock Jackson on his ass?” Luc had clearly decided to be amused by her snark. That was fine by her. She could take the path of least resistance today.

“Absolutely.” She added bandages and saline to the bag. “I did it once. I’ll do it again if he doesn’t take care of his side.”

Jackson’s dark flush was positively cute. Apparently, alpha werewolves didn’t get tranqed by their females. Good to know.

“I sedate him. Then what?”

”Triage. Check for broken bones and bleeding. Splint and bandage anything you find. If he has open wounds like Jackson did, then I need you to wrap any exposed surfaces before you move him. Otherwise, you’re going to get half the bayou in there on your way back here and he’s going to need the constitution of an ox to fight off the infection.”

“You’re goin’ to carry him the whole way?”

Luc shook his head. “I’ll get him away from the vamp nest and then Landry or Dre can come up the bayou and get us in their boat.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

”I need to check your side.”

Jackson pulled his T-shirt up, exposing his side. And the cut muscles of his abdomen and enough golden skin to start her drooling. God. He was gorgeous. He also absolutely, positively didn’t care who saw him naked. At the moment that was definitely an advantage. She tugged him over to the exam table and flipped on the overhead light. He healed impossibly fast. What had been a near-fatal injury was now a set of thin pink lines wrapped around his side. If she hadn’t seen it, she wouldn’t have believed it. He probably didn’t even need a Band-Aid at this point, but she wasn’t taking changes. Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, she squeezed some antibiotic ointment onto her fingertips and painted the scratches with the goo. She’d protect him the best she could.

He watched her as she worked. When she finished and snapped the gloves off, tossing them into the garbage, he nodded, like he’d just finished a mental conversation with himself.
“My place or yours. You take your pick,
shug
.”

Luc looked at her expectantly. Apparently, he was in full agreement with his brother’s plan. Too bad she’d be disappointing them.

“Uh, hello? Independent woman standing right here.”

“Not today,” Luc said impatiently. “Welcome to the Pack.”

She turned to Jackson. “He’s not the boss of me.”

Great. She sounded like she was five years old.

The look Luc gave her said he agreed with her unspoken mental assessment. Crap. She hoped this werewolf thing didn’t come with mental superpowers or mind-reading.

“I could be,” he growled.

“Uh,
no
.”

Luc shifted closer, his big hands cupping her shoulders and working beneath the straps of her tank top. She was part of a werewolf sandwich, pinned between two large male bodies. Luc was absolutely trying to be intimidating—and it was working. Unfortunately for her, she also found the position sexy as hell. She filed
that
tidbit away to think about later.

Instead, she focused on the anger bubbling up inside her. Yeah. She’d had this line of bullshit served to her before. She slipped out from between the two of them, knowing they let her go. Jackson gave her a look that was pure pissed off. She didn’t care. She didn’t need his approval to validate her, because she’d go right on ticking without him. So what if she wanted to play games with him? Take a time-out and run her hands over those shoulders of his? Lose herself in the twinkle in his eyes? He liked to laugh, this Breaux of hers.

“Go away,” she said firmly. She stabbed a finger in Luc’s direction. “You—go get that wolf. And you…you get out of my clinic and go back to wherever you came from.”

“You don’ mean that.” He leans against the wall, hands on his hips. Casual nudity clearly didn’t bother him one bit. Fine. She’d enjoy the view and
then
she’d send him on his way. He didn’t get to tell her what she did or didn’t want. That wasn’t how her life worked.

She refused to get into a
do too do not
conversation with him. There was no winning that kind of battle. She let her eyes run over the man lounging in her office. Jackson clearly was used to getting his way. She bet he flashed his charming smile and the bayou girls happily dropped their panties for him. Honestly, she’d been ready to do the same five years ago. Although, she hastily reminded herself, only after
she’d
decided to treat herself to a night of Jackson. She hadn’t gotten what she wanted then and he wasn’t getting what he wanted now. It seemed fair to her.

“I have a business to run,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound all trembly and melty like her insides.

“It’s Sunday.” Jackson laughed at her with his eyes again. “You’re closed today. It says so on your sign.”

“Closed doesn’t mean that I don’t have work to do,” she pointed out. She did have things to do. A monumental, never-ending to do list that seemed to grow longer every time she checked a task off. She loved owning her own veterinary practice and making her own decisions. She’d also known that starting the business was going to require plenty of sweat equity and probably more than her fair share of tears. Or chocolate. She preferred binge eating to crying.

“Take the day off?” This time he phrased his words as a request rather than a demand. She’d known his brand of charm was lethal, but she’d thought she could withstand it. Apparently, she’d been wrong. Parts of her melted for this man when he coaxed and teased.

Jackson could smell Eden’s frustration—and arousal. Any other man would have been clueless. He was Pack and a werewolf. He had an edge those other men didn’t have.

Unfortunately, he was still clueless.

He could do something about the arousal. Hell, he’d all but begged her to let him take care of that particular problem for her. He’d do a better job than that vibrator of hers anyhow. Her ponytail bounced all over the place as she tried to put him in place and take control of the situation. He grinned. She could try.

Unfortunately for her, she was up against a werewolf who knew exactly how to take charge. She wouldn’t mind nearly as much as she pretended to mind either.

Her hands skimmed over his bare skin, checking her earlier handiwork. He’d heal fast like all his kind, but he liked her concern. Hell, he was as bad as the fucking kittens. She touched him and he wanted to flop over and beg her to touch more. To run her hand down his belly and lower. No way he left her alone.

He’d been looking for his mate. All of his brothers had. Without a mate, the werewolves slowly became more wolf than man. Eventually, a man stopped shifting back and ran in his wolf form forever. He’d needed to find his female and let her anchor him to his human form. But he’d been looking for her because it was his responsibility. His duty to the Pack. He could protect his clan better if he controlled the wolf, rather than the wolf controlling the man. So he’d looked for her.