This Weakness For You (Entangled Select Otherworld) (Taming the Pack) (28 page)

“I got this!” Alanna said, kneeling beside Jordan. She turned to Travis as he dropped with a bulky backpack. “See, this is why I ignored your asinine order to stay behind.”

“I wasn’t actually talking to you,” Travis said, yanking the zipper open. The bag was full of medical supplies. “It would have been stupid to bring all this first aid equipment and leave behind a doctor.”

“You said all the females!”

“Not you,” Travis said, handing her gauze.

“Bleeding to death,” Kennedy said, finally shifting. The fact that she’d shifted relieved him. Lycans stayed in wolf form if their wounds were mortal. It was their way.

Alanna pressed the gauze to Kennedy’s shoulder. “The bullet went straight through. It’ll hurt like the devil, but if we can get this bleeding stopped, you’ll be fine. Here, Travis, put pressure here while I get this tied. Are you saying I’m not a female?” She scowled as she wrapped the gauze and tied it in place.

Travis went still. He handed Jordan his revolver. “My pack needs its Alpha.” He shifted and bolted straight through the clearing rather than around.

Swearing, Jordan sighted on a poacher on the ground who’d turned toward Travis. He aimed high to avoid hitting Lycans behind the human. Moments after the bullet ripped into the poacher’s throat, the poacher reflexively shot up into the air just above Travis.

“That was crazy awesome,” Kennedy said, lifting her head to watch. “Both of you.”

“Travis did that just to avoid answering my question,” Alanna said. “Stay lying here if you can—if it’s safe,” she said to Kennedy. “I should work my way around to the other side. Only I’m not going to stroll through the clearing like an idiot.” She got up and ran at a low crouch, carrying the bag.

Inside, Christa started singing “Oklahoma.” He inhaled and pushed back the desire to rush to her side. She wouldn’t be singing if she were in danger. They had to be able to hear the gunfire in the cabin, but Ross wouldn’t kill Christa—she was his way to get to Dane and him. She’d be okay.

The wolf snarled, but he pushed it back. He couldn’t shift. He could reason with the man, but the wolf wouldn’t be able to stay away from Christa, and they still needed an Alpha out here—and running toward the cabin might draw fire that way.

“Are you going to help Rainier?” Brock asked Alanna as she ran by.

“I’m going to patch Rainier and their suicidal Alpha back together,” Alanna said.

Brock and his mate, Sue, made eye contact with Jordan.

“Go!” he said.

They shifted and bolted into the woods.

Jordan’s head jerked up as another shot was fired inside the Hummer. He snapped his head back to his group. “Jeff!” Jordan nodded at the Hummer.

Jeff dropped his gun beside Dane as he ran and shifted. He joined the others in the Hummer. A moment later, the doors opened, and Jeff climbed out carrying Max’s Lycan body, and then two others from his pack followed, carrying semiautomatics.

“He’s got a pulse,” Jeff said, setting Max down beside Jordan.

Jordan checked, too—he could feel a pulse beating at the Lycan’s throat.

“I think he’s just unconscious,” Jeff said.

“Blaine?” Jordan asked, nodding at Max’s body.

Blaine knelt beside them. “It’s not his blood, but one of those bastards nailed him in the head with a steel-tipped boot, and then accidentally shot the poacher Max had been attacking.”

Max shifted and startled awake at the same time. He looked over at Jordan and smiled widely. “Nice shooting.”

Jordan cuffed him on the shoulder, then grabbed the semiautomatics and ran back to where his group was firing on the snipers in the trees. He set the guns beside Christa’s dad.

Her dad glanced down at them and shook his head. “Inelegant,” he said with a snort of disgust.

Garret picked one up, examined it, and set it back down.

“They’re for when you run out of ammo,” Jordan said. Travis’s revolver still had bullets, but the rifle he had was only good as a club now. Hopefully the others had more ammunition.

Miller sprinted up behind them and shifted so fast that he rolled to avoid hitting them. “We’ve got six dead Lycans on the other side and about a dozen wounded. We need those last three snipers in the trees down.”

“Oh, since you asked,” Christa’s dad said, not pausing in his firing. A moment later, one of the tree stands dropped.

“Thanks, human,” Miller said, grinning.

“You’re welcome, wolf.”

“Are you using these?” Miller asked, gesturing at the semiautomatics.

“No, be my guest,” her dad said.

“Humans are so polite,” the other Alpha said to Jordan. “Thanks for bringing them to the party.” He ran off carrying the semiautomatics.

This time, Christa’s dad did glance up. “You know, I thought I’d seen everything in ’Nam, but a naked man running through the forest carrying a semiautomatic…that’s new.” He shook his head and then took a deep breath and went back to looking through his rifle’s scope.

A wave of unease washed across Jordan suddenly and he looked around, trying to figure out what had changed…

“Jordan!” Dane said, sitting up. “Jordan, Christa stopped singing.”

She had. “Oklahoma” had ended…and there was silence coming from the cabin.

“She’s at the front of the cabin. Shoot out the back window,” Jordan said, sprinting. Dane fired just before Jordan shifted while leaping into the clearing. As he neared the cabin, another window broke and a brown wolf leaped out and bolted for the woods. From behind him, shouts and orders were issued to get the wolf.

Jordan didn’t even pause to chase Ross. He needed to get to Christa, and the wolf would not be denied his mate.

Mate.

Mine.

The gunfire and death outside seemed like a different world from the dusty cabin that he wove through. Christa was on a stretcher in the front corner, and he shifted back and went to kneel by her side.

She had a wide swath of duct tape across her mouth, but her eyes were wide, and she shook her head as he reached to undo the straps.

“Christa, it’s okay. Christa. Christa. Woman, hold still, I can’t get these undone with your wiggling.” He sat back with a frown. He couldn’t get anywhere with her freaking out like this. He reached forward and grabbed the edge of the duct tape. “Okay, but this is going to hurt like hell.” She nodded frantically and he yanked the duct tape off.

“Behind you!”

He spun just as Ross jumped at him with a knife poised. He blocked the knife with his left arm as he sent a wild right hook upward. Hot, sharp pain spiked as the blade sliced through the skin on his arm, but the right hook knocked Ross back. They both jumped to their feet and circled in a crouch.

“I thought you ran off,” Jordan said.

“Of course you did.”

“It was a real wolf,” Christa said, out of breath.

“It’s okay, Christa,” Jordan said. “Just breathe.”

“You and I have a very different version of okay.”

Ross feinted forward, stabbing, and Jordan jumped back, avoiding the thrust of the knife.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” Ross said. “It should have been Dane, and then I was going to catch you out there.”

“You thought I wouldn’t come for Christa?” Of course he’d come for her. The majority of those outside had come to fight—he’d come for Christa.

“What about your pack? What about the hierarchy?” Ross jumped forward again.

Jordan backed toward the door with his hands out.

Ross advanced.

“Jordan!” Christa screamed.

“It’s fine,” he said.

“It’s not fine!”

When Ross jumped forward again, Jordan opened the door behind him and dodged to the side so Ross stumbled through the open door outside into the clearing…the quiet clearing. From all around, dozens of Lycans raised their heads and stared at Ross.

“Christa’s my first, third, and fourth priority. Oh, and run like hell, Ross.” He slammed the door closed just as he heard a newly shifted Ross take off with a couple dozen Lycans chasing him.

“Oh. It was fine,” she said quietly.

“I told you it was.” This time when he knelt beside the gurney, she held still. There were shallow cuts here and there that must have happened when they’d dragged her from the car, but otherwise, she looked fine. Every time he’d said that, he was reassuring himself just as much as her. It was fine. If it hadn’t been fine… He couldn’t think of that. He’d lost a scent-match last time he’d been to this cabin—it felt like he was making up for that by saving Christa here.

Ross hadn’t meant for this to feel so much like redemption, but that’s what it felt like.

“That did hurt like hell,” his mate said, wriggling her nose. “I don’t think I’ll ever have hair on that part of my face again.”

He leaned over her. “No? Well, that’s too bad. I guess you’ll have to leave all the facial hair up to me.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re not going to untie me right away, are you?”

“I’m sort of enjoying our first brush with bondage.” He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “This was fun.” He kissed her nose. “Your dad’s outside with a rifle.”

“Oh, how did he do?”

“He missed a few times, but not enough for my comfort level, seeing as how I’ve left behind all my clothes, and he’s now wondering what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into.” He pressed a kiss on her mouth. His lips were firm against hers, as if he was stamping their imprint onto hers.
Mate. Mine.
And then he softened them and pushed her mouth open with his. He didn’t know what forever smelled like, but it tasted like Christa.

Her eyes were half closed, and she sighed when he pulled back. She had a red patch of skin from where the duct tape had been pulled off. Her brown hair was sticking up at all kinds of crazy angles. She looked beautiful.

“Marry me, Christa,” he said.

“That was your proposal?” Her mouth dropped open as her eyes widened.

“See, I told you you’d recognize it.” He kissed her chin. “I figured I had a captive audience this time.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“So you’ve said. I believe you said if ever there was a time to look…” He pressed his mouth against her neck. “Mmm, you smell good.”

She laughed. “Okay.”

He leaned back. “Okay what?”

“Okay, I’ll marry you.”

Cradling her face in his hands, he kissed her long and deep until she moaned softly into his mouth. He brushed her hair back. “No more trying to get yourself killed.”

“I’ll try not to. Now can you take off these straps? I swear I can’t feel my feet.”

He sighed and slid a suggestive glance down her body.

“Jordan.”

He reached up and started working on the strap across her chest.

“How many Lycans showed up?”

“Oh, I suppose you think you’re so clever.” He felt her worried gaze and added, “It just so happens I agree with you. I think somewhere around a hundred…which is good because there were twice as many poachers out there as we’d expected.” He moved on to the strap at her waist.

She licked her lips. “Did we lose anyone?”

“Travis, did we lose anyone?” he asked, without raising his voice. Travis had assured Dane and Christa’s father that she was fine, and Jordan was just untying her, which he was—very slowly. Travis’s next words sent a sick feeling to the pit of his stomach.

“Sue and Brock both died trying to help get some of Rainier out of the line of fire. They were married. No offspring, but they were really close to some of Rainier. Kennedy lost a lot of blood. Tim needs a bullet dug out of his arm. Max has a concussion. Rainier lost two, and almost every one of them is injured, so it’s good they brought a doctor. Travis says their doctor is refusing to bandage up his leg until he stops being an ass, but he’s still fairly confident he won’t bleed to death. Crater pack lost two, and they might lose another. Black Tusk lost two and has a lot of injuries. Olympus is complaining that they got here too late, but they’ll still need some bullets dug out of them.”

“I’m sorry about Sue and Brock,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “We’ve ended this, and I don’t think anyone would have guessed we’d lose only eight or nine out of a hundred. They’ve lost more in individual packs and never gotten a single poacher.” He listened for a second as he moved to the strap on her legs. “Travis says there were twenty-one poachers in all. So three times the number we’d been expecting. He also says we would have lost a lot more if your dad hadn’t been knocking them out of the trees, because they had enough ammo to shoot each of us a dozen times.”

“I’m still sorry we lost anyone.”

He nodded. “Brock and Sue died with honor saving our former pack members. They wouldn’t regret the cost. Some things are worth dying for.” He’d have given his life twice over for Christa and then died if she had.

“Jordan, your pants are next to the back window,” Dane called, tossing his pants inside. “My dad says he’d rather not see that much of you, and your brother says it’s not all that impressive.”

Christa sat up and massaged her legs. “Yeah, he’s just jealous.”

Jordan laughed and went to retrieve his pants. After he’d pulled them on, he came back to find Christa frowning down at her legs. He grabbed Ross’s gun from the table, tucking it into the back of his waistband. “I’m glad he stuck to the knife.”

Christa glanced up, and her eyes were shiny with tears.

He rushed to her side. “What’s wrong?”

“My legs feel…weird.” A tear slid from her eye, and he caught it at her chin and rubbed it away.

He picked her up. “I thought we’d talked about how much I like carrying you. It reinforces my masculinity.”

“I know, but I didn’t even do anything, and I’m not walking out of here.”

“Christa, twenty-one poachers are dead because of you, and instead of our entire pack being wiped out, we’ve lost three Lycans.” He carried her to the door and opened it. He was about to say more, but when they walked outside, they were met with the chaos of what looked like a war zone.

“Thanks for inviting us,” Miller said as he walked by.

Christa’s eyes widened as she watched him. Jordan covered her eyes. “Yeah, married ladies don’t look. Come on, let’s go collect our siblings and your dad and find out what the other
dressed
Alphas think we should do with the PR on this.”