Chapter 4 – Rowan #2
“It wasn’t frat related,” Sean says quickly. “It was—”
I glare at him. Hard.
Sean’s eye darts to me, then back to the doctor. He swallows. “A blender?”
Behind the doctor’s back, I smack my hand over my face.
“A blender did that to you?” The doctor sounds like he’s not sure if he should call security or a psychiatrist.
“I was making a protein shake.”
“With what, chainsaws?!”
“No.” Sean tilts his head thoughtfully. “But that’s a sick idea, Doc.”
“The blender was defective,” I cut in, desperate to salvage this. “Freshman witch from a rival frat put a hex on it. You know how these things go.”
The doctor is clearly suspicious. His cat-shifter instincts are probably screaming that we’re full of shit. I at least had the presence of mind to shower off the werewolf’s scent before we came, and sprayed enough scent masker that we probably smell like… well, we’re getting ready for a date.
The situation is still suspicious as hell, even if Sean wasn’t the world’s worst actor. But this doctor probably deals with supernatural college students lying about their injuries on a daily basis, because after a long moment, he just sighs.
“Indeed.” He snaps on a pair of gloves with more force than necessary. “Well, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about the eye. It’s completely destroyed. But I can clean it up and try to prevent infection.”
“Cool.” Sean nods like he’s being told about a minor inconvenience rather than permanent maiming. “Can you make sure you leave the scars, though?”
The doctor stares at him like he’s grown a second head. “Why on earth would you want me to do that?”
“I mean, if I gotta lose my eye, at least I’m gonna get a sick scar out of it.” Classic Sean reasoning. His expression softens a little as he adds, “And there’s nothing wrong with scars.”
My throat tightens.
Regina.
Of course.
She hates her scars. Enough to hide them, even now. Even from us.
And Sean, being Sean, sees this as an opportunity to make her feel less alone. I guess there’s a reason I put up with the giant idiot, after all.
“Hey, Doc, can I get a script for erectile dysfunction while I’m here?” Sean asks, immediately making me second guess that reason.
The doctor pauses mid-glove-snap. “Do you have erectile dysfunction?”
“Hell no. But we’ve got a hot mate and a four-hour erection sounds fucking awesome.”
The doctor’s eye twitches again. He takes a slow breath. “I’ll be back with some supplies. And some Valium.”
“I’m not nervous,” Sean calls after him.
“It’s for me,” the doctor calls back.
The curtain swishes closed. Sean turns to me with a grin despite the absolute disaster this day has been.
“I think that went well.”
“You told him your sister works at Home Depot as proof you’re not homophobic.”
“But Cameron does work at Home Depot! She even has a fuckin’ girlfriend! And I’m not!”
“Why didn’t you just lead with that?!”
“I dunno, bro, because they’re breaking up?”
“That’s…” I stop. Take a breath. “Never mind.”
My phone buzzes. I pull it out, grateful for the distraction.
SEXY WITCH
Hey. How’s Sean?
OTHER NERD
He’s nervous, so he’s being extra Sean-y. I’ll let you imagine what that entails. How’s Kill?
SEXY WITCH
Nothing yet. But he’s stable. That’s probably good news.
I hate that word.
Probably means uncertainty.
Uncertainty means our pack alpha could be dying while I’m sitting in a hospital room arguing about blenders and erectile dysfunction.
OTHER NERD
Yeah. Probably.
SEXY WITCH
Have you guys seen the doctor yet?
OTHER NERD
Yes, and Sean has already managed to be offensive in at least three different ways.
SEXY WITCH
Only three? He’s on good behavior. Can I see him?
My lips quirk. I glance over at Sean, who’s currently trying to catch a glimpse of his own eye socket in the reflection of a metal supply cabinet and making faces at himself.
I raise my phone and snap a picture.
Sean whips around at the camera sound. “Wait, who are you sending that to?”
I’m already typing.
“Don’t send that to Regina!” Sean lunges for my phone, but I hold it out of reach. “Rowan! That’s a terrible angle!”
“It’s your only angle now, man.”
“Hit that button and you’ll be shitting teeth for a week!”
I hit send. “Too late.”
Sean gasps, grasping the side of his head. “You violated bro code.”
“Bro code doesn’t apply in medical emergencies.”
“It especially applies in medical emergencies! That’s when you need your bros the most!”
My phone buzzes again.
SEXY WITCH
Poor baby.
Tell Sean I’ll make him feel better when he gets back if he doesn’t destroy the hospital.
I show him the message. His protest dies in his throat.
“Oh.” He blinks at the screen and melts. “She called me baby.”
“Yeah.”
“You think she’s talking about a blowjob?”
I shrug. “Probably.”
“That’s... that’s good incentive to not die of a face infection.”
I snort. “It is.”
The curtain opens again. The doctor returns with a tray of supplies. Sutures, antiseptic, gauze, and what looks like some kind of magical numbing ointment in a jar that glows faintly purple.
“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, his voice slightly more relaxed now.
That Valium kicked in fast.
Sean sits back on the bed, tilting his head to give the doctor access to the wound. I watch as the cat shifter begins working, dabbing the numbing ointment around the edges of Sean’s destroyed eye socket.
“Ow,” Sean whines.
“Hold still, you big baby.”
“Easy for you to say, that shit stings!”
“Stop moving or I’m going to get the other eye.”
I tune out their bickering and pull up my phone again, wanting to text something to Regina but not wanting to distract her from Killian.
Through the bond, I can still feel him. Distant and muffled, but there. A steady pulse that tells me he’s alive, at least. And fighting.
But for how long?
Villeneuve said he couldn’t cure the bite, he could only slow its progress. Which means somewhere in Killian’s body, the werewolf’s poison is spreading, changing him. Turning him into a monster that isn’t quite wolf and isn’t quite human and certainly not sane.
I remember what Villeneuve said. Shifters might have more resistance to the bite, but the madness takes over eventually.
What happens to a pack when its alpha loses his mind?
Killian would never hurt Regina, but that thing in his head…?
If it comes down to it, I know what he would want us to do. What he would probably say he wants even now, if he could talk. But do any of us have the heart to do it?
Do I?
“Rowan?”
I blink. Sean is watching me, his eye wide with concern despite the doctor still working on the other side of his face.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Liar.”
But he doesn’t push it. Probably something to do with the fact that he screams bloody murder the next time the doctor places a stitch.
The doctor finishes the last stitch and steps back, examining his work.
“That’s the best I can do. You’ll need to keep it clean and dry.
Change the bandage twice a day and take the pain meds I gave you at least six hours apart.
” He fixes Sean with a pointed look. “And for heaven’s sake, stay away from hexed blenders. ”
“No promises,” Sean says cheerfully. “Thanks, Doc! You’re a real one, even if you are a cat.”
The doctor sighs, strips off his gloves, and leaves without another word. I don’t blame him.
Sean swings his legs off the bed, testing his balance. He’s steadier than I expected, though that might be the numbing ointment. “Ready to head back?”
“Yeah.”
We make our way out of the treatment area, past the sprite who’s stopped hiccuping and appears to be sucking on some kind of magic vape pen, and the vampire coven who don’t even look up from their phones.
It’s cold as balls by the time we make it outside. Sean takes a deep breath, then winces as the movement pulls at his fresh stitches.
“That’s gonna suck for a while.”
“Probably will.”
“At least I’ll look badass with an eyepatch.”
“Sure you will, buddy.”
He glances at me sideways. “You’re going all quiet and broody again.”
“I’m not fucking broody.”
Sean falls into step beside me.
“He’s gonna be okay,” he says, suddenly uncharacteristically serious. “Killian’s too stubborn to die.”
“Yeah.”
I fucking hope so.
And if he’s not, I hope I’m strong enough to do what needs to be done.