Wolf's Fall (6 page)

“Thank you,” she said to whatever power had kept him alive until he got here.

Noah laid a hand on her arm, and gave her an understanding smile. “Why don't you wait down the hall with your brother while we finish up and get him situated in a room? I promise someone will come and get you as soon as possible.”

It really wasn't a request. Now that the danger was past, they needed her out of the way. Reluctantly she agreed and, after taking one last look at Nick to reassure herself he was breathing, walked to the waiting room.

Tarron stood the instant she went inside. “How is he?”

Her voice trembled as the adrenaline left in a rush and reality set in. “He'll be okay. We almost lost him.”

“‘We'?” Never one to miss a thing, her brother arched a brow. “He's a friend, but he's not part of our coven, Calla. Why ‘we'? Who is Nick to you?”

She looked around the waiting area. “Where's Nick's daughter?”

“Her mate came for her and he insisted on taking her for a walk to calm her nerves. Now, tell me what's going on.”

“Selene and Zan won't have gone far. This isn't really the time or place to—”

“Sit down. We're going to finish that discussion we didn't have time for earlier, and you're going to tell me what the hell is going on.”

She knew that he loved her, and that he meant well. But right now he was taking the high-handed attitude of a ruler instead of the gentle caring of her brother. It seriously pissed her off.

“No,” she said coolly. “I'm not. Frankly, there isn't much to tell at the moment, and even if there were, my relationship with Nick is none of your business.”

Of course, he pounced on her slip. “So there
is
a relationship.” He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Damn, you never do anything by half.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” She glared at him.

“He's a wolf, sis. They're totally different from us, and I don't mean that in an elitist way before you accuse me of that.” He waved a hand to indicate the entire hospital, perhaps the whole compound. “They're warriors. They live dangerous lives, twenty-four/seven. Is this what you want for the
rest of eternity? Constant terror for a man who might never come home?”

“Stefano was a quiet, cultured man who lived a peaceful existence,” she said quietly. “But that didn't exactly save him from the hunters, did it?”

Her brother sucked in a breath as though she'd punched him. “I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you.”

“I know.” Her anger subsided and her heart swelled with love for him. Still, she had to be firm or he'd pry until he wormed the truth from her before she was ready to talk. “Worry all you want, but trust me, will you? Let me work things out for myself and then I'll tell you what you want to know.”

“Just don't shut me out, please. That's all I ask.”

“I wouldn't, unless you forced me to.”

He opened his arms and she walked into them, thankful their disagreement hadn't turned into a bigger fight. She hated being at odds with someone she loved so much, especially Tarron.

Selene returned with Zan, and Calla related that all had gone as well as it could with her father in the OR. The woman slumped with relief against her mate's side and he put an arm around her, kissing her cheek.

“I don't know what I would do without him,” Selene said softly. “He and I have had a rough time getting reacquainted, but I can't imagine him not being here.”

“He told me a bit about it.” When Selene's eyes widened, Calla thought maybe she should've kept her mouth shut. “He didn't go into all the details, just that he has a lot of regrets about the past. I know he's in a great deal of pain.”

“He told you that?”

“Not in so many words, but his feelings were quite clear.” Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to reveal to Nick's daughter and her mate that she'd discovered the commander thinking of shoving a dagger into his own heart to escape his agony—not just over his past, but also because of his recent ordeal.

That would remain between him and Calla unless Nick chose to share it.

Just then, Noah stuck his head in the door and addressed Selene. “We've got your dad in a room if you want to sit with him for a while.”

“Yes! Thank you.”

Zan hustled her from the room and Calla sat back with a sigh. It could be ages before she got in to see Nick, and it made her nerves coil in anxiety. Selene had every right to see him first, she reminded herself. Besides, if Calla acted more worried than a concerned friend, people would start asking questions she wasn't ready to answer, as her brother had already done.

After what seemed like hours, Selene returned and poked her head in the door, giving them a tired smile. “Dad's resting. They said he'd probably
sleep until the morning, but you're welcome to see him if you'd like. You did save his life, after all.”

“Thank you.” Calla stood. “I'd love to check on him before we have to go home.”

“He'll appreciate it when he wakes up. Just go down the hallway on the right, fourth room.”

Taking Selene's hand, Zan led her away. Calla stood, and looked at her brother, but he opted to wait for her. She was glad he was giving her time alone with Nick. Maybe some of what she'd said to her overprotective sibling had gotten through.

At the doorway to Nick's room, she paused and took a breath before pushing inside. The sight that greeted her was definitely not what she had expected.

Instead of Nick, the man, lying on the bed, a huge white wolf was sprawled on the sheets, head on the pillow. She came to a halt, hand over her pounding heart, and stared. His fur was thick, as pure as the driven snow, not one other speck of color to be seen except for the black gumdrop nose on the end of his snout. She'd seen lion shifters with smaller paws. His head was big and so were his jaws, which looked strong enough to crush someone's bones as though snapping a toothpick.

Moving forward as quietly as possible, she took a seat beside the bed. Without a doubt, this wolf—Nick—could easily take down any opponent. And yet he looked so gentle, lying with his fluffy tail curled around his legs, snoring slightly.

Tentatively, she reached out and stroked the top of his head. Then his ears. He gave a soft rumble of unmistakable pleasure and nosed into her hand in his sleep, seeking her touch. Wanting comfort. She gladly gave it, rubbing all over his face and ears, the scruff of his neck. He was simply majestic, and being able to touch him as a wolf was a privilege she figured few had been allowed.

“Aren't you beautiful?” she whispered. “I'll bet shifting helps you heal, huh? Just sleep, Nick. I'll stay for a bit, and then I'll come back tomorrow.”

The wolf let out a sigh, and slept on.

He never knew when she rose later and reluctantly slipped from the room.

*   *   *

Nick came awake gradually, blinking, eyes adjusting to the gloom. The sun was apparently just coming up, and the room was so dim he couldn't see where he was. Couldn't think straight.

It came back in snatches—the call to save the vampire coven from hunters. The Huey. Flying low, shooting.

Being shot.

He was alive then, if damned slow and stoned on whatever the doctors had pumped into him. Lifting his head, he saw white paws stretched in front of him. He didn't remember shifting. That was good, though, since it would help him get back on his feet much faster.

Just then, a sweet scent tickled his nose. It was
faint, whomever it belonged to no longer around, but it drew him all the same. Instinctively he whined, snuffling the covers on one side of the bed to try to make out more of the delicious scent. It seemed to be on his fur as well.

Both the man and the wolf knew the owner of it.
Calla
. She'd been here?

He wanted her to come back. His wolf wanted to leap from the bed and track her down. The man had more restraint. Barely. Besides, his strength wasn't up to par just yet.

Concentrating, Nick focused on his human form and made the change. The transformation wasn't quite as seamless as usual, and was a bit painful given his healing injury, but at least it was quick. Once the change was complete, he took stock of himself.

Lifting his hand, he carefully explored the puckered scar on his chest, and frowned. The fucker who'd shot him must've used silver, so the scar might never totally disappear. However, while that pissed him off to a degree, he had more important things to worry about.

As a distraction to said worries, the television mounted on the wall wasn't much, but it would have to do until they sprung him. He spent a while flipping back and forth between
Good Morning America
and the
Today
show, and knew he'd reached a sad state when he found himself
engrossed in a story about Miley Cyrus's tongue and whether she'd donate it to science one day.

“Fuck's sake,” he muttered, shutting off the TV in disgust.

“That bad?”

His gaze jerked to the doorway, where Calla stood smiling at him. He sat up straighter, or tried. Still quite sore, he winced. “Worse. Thank God you're here to save me, or I might have started with
Jerry Springer
next. I think they're discussing ticking internal clocks and exploding ovaries or something. Hell if I know.”

She laughed, wrinkling her nose adorably. “Then it's a good thing I arrived when I did.”

He studied the vampire, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. She was gorgeous, as always, dark hair falling around her face and shoulders. A snug pink T-shirt with a V-neck emphasized her breasts, and nice jeans encased her long legs. She wore high-heeled strappy wedge sandals and her toes were painted to match her shirt.

He'd like to get a closer look at those toes. While kissing his way up those long legs. His wolf rumbled in agreement, and he cleared his throat to mask the sound.

“What have you got behind your back?” he asked, curious.

“You caught me!” She was clearly delighted that he'd noticed, and came to sit by the bed. From
behind her, she brought forth a square tin and thrust it at him. “For you.”

“Me?” Taking the tin, he stared at it, then at Calla. “A present?”

“Yep. Go on; open it.”

“Nobody's given me anything in ages.” Sad, but true. He didn't think anyone even knew when his birthday was, except maybe Hammer.

Eagerly, he pried open the lid, and inhaled with sheer bliss. “Holy shit! You brought me cookies? Chocolate chip and snickerdoodle, my favorites.”

“I made them myself,” she said proudly, clearly happy that he liked his gift.

Snatching a fat chocolate chip one, he took a large bite and moaned in ecstasy. “Mmm. Only thing better than this is sex.”

“Very true. But the cookies will have to suffice, for now.” Her eyes sparkled with humor, and a lot of heat, if he wasn't mistaken.

He almost choked on his cookie. His dick made a valiant effort to express just how very on board he was with the idea, but his body was still healing and not quite ready for acrobatics. He was glad, because the last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself in front of this woman.

Calla was special. A lady. He would treat her as no less.

“These are wonderful. Have one?”

“I already ate three before I came, but what the heck?” She took a snickerdoodle and joined him.
After a moment, she said, “There's another reason I came besides giving you cookies. Tarron's having a party next weekend and I'm hoping you'll come as my guest.”

He hesitated. “As your date?”

“If you like. Provided you're healed.” She shrugged, but something about her tone said his answer meant something to her. “And only if you want to.”

“What kind of party is it?”

“Sort of a gathering of European acquaintances of my brother's. A boring, rubbing-elbows and ego-stroking event guaranteed to drive me mad, unless I have company.”

“Vampire acquaintances?” he asked, trying to make his voice as casual as possible.

“Mostly.”

Absorbing the implications, he tried not to break into a cold sweat. Did he want to attend a party literally stuffed full of unknown vampires and try not to think about how fast he could become dinner? Not hardly. But Calla wanted him to come, and that alone made his heart pound in excitement.

“Tarron's trying to shore up relations with the European vampires,” she went on. “He thinks we're too vulnerable, in light of the recent problems with rogues and hunters.”

“Well, he's got a point.”

“It would be so much more fun if you were
there,” Calla went on. “Plus, you could benefit from these contacts as well. And maybe if you're there, Tarron won't— Never mind. What was I thinking? Of course you don't want to hang around with my kind after what happened. I'm sorry. I'll just go.”

Struggling to cover her upset, she started to rise, and he caught her wrist. “Wait. If I'm there, maybe Tarron won't do
what
?”

“Nothing. Forget I mentioned it.”

Damn. Now she's clammed up. Probably thinks you don't want to spend time with her. Great job, dumbass.

“I'd love to go,” he said softly.

Her eyes met his and the pain there vanished. “Really?”

“Yes. But a few of my men will accompany me, if that's all right.”

“Of course. No leader attends a party full of other powerful leaders without some backup.” She smiled. “I'm glad you're coming.”

“Any excuse to spend more time with you.” That part wasn't a lie. He wished he didn't have to attend the party in order to see her, but for some reason it seemed really important to her, so he'd manage his fears. Somehow.

“Thank you. I can't wait.”

When she leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss, warmth filled him.