Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
I couldn’t get into the damn house.
I had her keys, but even with Alice in my arms, the wards wouldn’t let me pass—a detail I’d forgotten until I reached for the front door handle and got a nasty zap of magic that left my fingers numb and tingly for more than twenty minutes.
Alice hadn’t stirred once during the half-hour drive from Natalie’s home to her own or as I carried her from the car to her little porch. Even the searing power of her house wards and my flinch at getting zapped didn’t wake her.
I wanted to take her to a hospital, but I couldn’t.
I wanted to take her to my home and have members of my pack snuggle around her in wolf form to offer comfort, warmth, and protection, but I couldn’t.
I wanted to get her inside her house, put her in her own bed, and keep her safe until her eyes opened again, but I couldn’t.
I wanted to ask Malcolm if he could drop the wards, but I couldn’t.
Instead of resorting to ripping something apart with my bare hands to take the edge off my rage and frustration, I sat on Alice’s front porch swing, settled her in my lap with her head against my chest, and rocked us gently with my nose in her hair until her honey-vanilla scent replaced my anger with something resembling peace.
The night was cool but not cold, thankfully. I cradled her closely so she stayed warm.
“Alice,” I murmured, gently working tangles out of her long hair with my fingers without tugging hard enough to cause pain. “Alice, wake up.”
My only response was her quiet, raspy breathing and her heartbeat, which was finally slowing almost two hours after the last healing spell Malcolm had used.
There were countless things I couldn’t do for her right now, but there were certainly things I could do.
First and foremost, Alice needed water. All she’d had to drink since the accident was that one cup I’d given her at Natalie’s house.
I took out my phone and sent a text to my pack’s third, Ben Cooper, who was also Maclin Security’s installation manager.
Me: Are you available to bring a cup of crushed ice and some bottles of cold water to a house on the east side?
Ben Cooper: Yes. Give me the address and I’ll head out now.
Me: Thank you. Sending the address now.
Since I had my phone out, I also texted Ron to tell him I wouldn’t be in the office today. I had no plans to leave Alice’s side at least until she was healed and able to care for herself.
That done, I went back to cradling Alice’s head to my chest while I rocked the swing very slowly with my feet.
Her street was peaceful in the middle of the night. The only sounds I heard were the buzzing of streetlights, wind in the leaves, and a few dogs barking.
And Alice’s breathing and heartbeat, of course. All my senses and my wolf’s focused on those signs of life to the exclusion of nearly everything else.
Sometimes she whimpered very softly or flinched. Those little sounds and movements dug painfully into my gut like claws. I stroked unburned places on her palm, caressed her hair, and let my body heat and comforting magic seep into her.
She exhaled against my chest with a soft murmur.
“Alice?” I said in my normal voice, hoping to wake her. “Alice, can you hear me?”
She went quiet, a little furrow between her brows. It smoothed when I cradled her hand and started stroking her palm with my thumb again.
Given how much she’d suffered and that I couldn’t get her inside her house, I didn’t want to like how perfect she felt in my lap with her head on my chest.
I could envision sitting like this with her on quiet mornings with cups of coffee, or in the evening after work before going inside to listen to records and then upstairs to bed. Imagining those scenes eased the strain in my shoulders and settled my stomach.
My wolf had gone quiet and watchful—surprisingly so given I hadn’t given in to his demand to take Alice to my home. Maybe he enjoyed the comforting feeling of her in my arms as much as I did.
His contentment evaporated the moment Ben’s SUV pulled into the drive and parked behind Alice’s car.
And when Ben got out and headed in our direction carrying a small cooler, my wolf rose, flattened his ears, and bared his teeth. My skin prickled with the force of his protectiveness and my vision turned golden.
Ben was no threat—the opposite, in fact. But my wolf wasn’t so rational, especially after witnessing hours of Alice’s suffering.
Ben understood, though. His own wolf was fiercely protective of his girlfriend Casey, who was human, and our most vulnerable pack members.
Any threat to them was a threat to him. But unlike my beta, Jack Hastings, Ben didn’t exude menace or barely contained fury in these situations.
He was every bit as ferocious of a fighter as Jack, but his instinctual reaction when he encountered someone in distress was always kindness and care.
That among many other attributes made him an ideal third, and it was one of the reasons I’d texted him and not Jack, though Jack lived closer.
The other reason I hadn’t texted my beta was that Jack would be angry to see me cradling a human woman like this with my wolf so obviously protective and possessive of her. Ben, on the other hand, looked pleased to see my wolf’s devotion despite the grim circumstances.
Both Jack and his mate Delia wanted me to have a mate who was a werewolf.
To that end, Delia had taken it upon herself to try to arrange blind dates for me with female werewolves, all of whom were much less dominant than herself.
I hadn’t felt any sparks with anyone I’d met through her, and neither had my wolf, which pissed Delia off to no end.
I’d made it clear more than once that a pack wasn’t a democracy and my relationships, much less my feelings, weren’t subject to votes or anyone’s approval but mine. She hadn’t given up, though.
Frankly, I didn’t give a shit what Delia wanted.
I wanted—I needed—someone who fit to me and my wolf like pieces of a puzzle. Someone fierce and strong who’d stand beside me, not behind me. Someone like Alice.
Ben approached slowly, his eyes lowered, and set the cooler on the porch. He slid it within my reach and backed away until my wolf stopped growling.
“What else do you need?” he asked, his voice quiet and gaze fixed on the steps.
He’d be able to smell Alice’s pain, burns, and blood as well as I could. My blood, too. I still had stains on my shirt and dried blood on and below my ears.
“I think that’s all we’ll need,” I said, my voice edged with my wolf’s growl. “She’ll be all right once we get into the house. The wards are keeping us out until she’s awake to lower them.”
I trusted Ben with my life, but that was all I felt I could confide at the moment. I knew too little about Alice’s situation to explain further.
“Please keep this between us,” I added, though I was pretty sure I didn’t need to tell him that.
“Of course.” He gave me a grave nod. “If you need anything else, let me know.”
“I will.”
He turned and left quickly, knowing my wolf wouldn’t stop bristling until his taillights were well on the way to the stop sign at the end of the block.
I nudged the cooler lid open with my foot. Six small bottles of cold water were stacked inside, along with two insulated cups full of crushed ice.
Holding Alice to my chest, I picked up a bottle of water and one of the cups, shut the lid, and settled back into the swing.
For the next hour, I rocked us, slipped chips of ice between Alice’s lips, and used my soft cotton undershirt to dab her skin with cool water. Taking my shirt off while holding her had been tricky, but I hadn’t thought to ask Ben to bring something else I could use for the job.
And having her against my bare chest, where I could keep her most warm and comfortable…that was the best part of this entire day.
Just after two a.m., she exhaled in a long sigh, rubbed her nose against my chest, and murmured something that sounded like forest. That didn’t make any sense, though, so I must have misheard her.
“Hey, baby,” I said softly. “Wake up.”
Very slowly, her eyes opened.
The tightness in my chest that had taken hold when she dropped into my arms on Natalie’s front porch finally began to ease.
In the soft moonlight, she blinked slowly, her gaze moving from my face to the swing, her front door, and back to me, as if she was trying to figure out where she was and how we’d gotten here.
Her coffee-brown eyes had none of the flinty glare or distrust she’d leveled at me earlier. She didn’t tense or try to pull away. I hoped she sensed she was safe with me.
All too soon, her eyes drifted closed again.
Thankfully, she only seemed to be dozing instead of being unconscious. I fed her more chips of ice and dabbed cool water on her skin, waiting for her eyelashes to flutter again.
When they did, I adjusted her on my lap so she was sitting up more. Her eyes opened, and this time she seemed to actually see me clearly.
“Can you hear me?” I asked, dropping my shirt on the swing beside me.
“Yes.” Her voice was faint, but it sounded really damn good to me.
I kissed her forehead gently. “Do you think you can lower the wards?”
It took a long time for her to answer, as if was trying to figure out why I’d need her to do that. Maybe she wasn’t sure if she wanted me in her house. I didn’t see any suspicious or distrust in her expression, though, which gave me hope.
“I think so,” she murmured finally. “Help me up.”
There was no way in hell she’d be able to stand up, but from what I’d learned about her so far, that wouldn’t keep her from trying.
Instead, I left my shirts, the cooler, and what was left of the ice chips by the swing and carried her to the front door.
Her fingers twitched as if she was trying to touch the doorframe, but she didn’t have the strength to reach out. So I had to stand so close to the wards that my skin sizzled. Another few seconds of this, and I expected to get my own burns and for my hair to catch fire.