32. Chapter 32 #2
Michael stood in the doorway. “Ash is grabbing supplies, and I’ll leave toiletries and clothes for you, and have refreshments brought in.”
I looked up at him. “Thank you. I… I’m so sorry about Malcolm.” Michael paused, then inclined his head and closed the door softly behind him.
A moment later, Ash and Jamie walked in carrying medical supplies. Jamie’s golden hair was rumpled for once, and Ash’s eyes were narrowed as he assessed me.
Jamie looked at my bloody scrubs. “Every time you leave the house, you come back looking like this. We can’t let you out of our sight, Sparky.” The anger in his voice ruined the joke.
For once, Parker was quiet as he stared down at my ankles. It never boded well when Parker went quiet.
Ash moved past him, his long black hair falling over a shoulder as he knelt beside me. His dark eyes assessed the burns on my wrist, then went to my ankles. He pulled up my pant legs and stilled.
“These are serious burns. What happened?” His fingers hovered above the blistered skin without touching.
“They immobilized my hands and tied me down, so I melted the restraints with my feet.”
Shock, fury, and disbelief bled through their energy. Jamie made a strangled noise. “You… did this to yourself?”
Ash gazed at me. “You knew Conall would come. Why did you do this?” My gaze slid away, and I swallowed. “Get cleaned up, and I’ll come back to dress your burns.”
Everyone stepped out except Conall, who ended up cutting off the scrubs. When water touched my burns, pain sliced through me, but he gently washed my body and slipped a t-shirt over me.
When Ash came back, I was tired and hurting, but clean. He opened his satchel and began laying out supplies on the bedside table. A jar of salve that smelled like honey and something herbal, clean gauze, a bowl of water, and scissors.
“This will hurt,” he admitted. “But it’ll help stave off infection, and you’ll heal faster.”
I nodded, my throat tight. Conall lifted me onto his lap, his chest solid and warm against my side as the bond hummed between us.
Ash started with my right ankle. The white-hot pain was immediate and vicious, and I dug my fingers into Conall’s thigh. He didn’t flinch.
“Try to breathe through it,” Ash murmured. “The salve has anesthetic properties, but it takes a minute to work.” Then he worked on my other ankle and my wrist as Conall softly rocked me.
The pain didn’t vanish, but it dulled. His Homeopathic energy seeped into me, warm, gentle strands that sank into the burned tissue and began knitting it together from the inside out. It wasn’t instant healing, but more of a jump start.
Ash’s face was pale when he finally leaned back. “Rest for at least twenty-four hours. The tissue needs time to regenerate, and I’ll change the dressings tomorrow.”
I nodded, exhausted. My body still ached where the ogre had punched and tackled me. Jamie and Parker came back into the room as Ash finished up. Parker scanned me, and his shoulders loosened a little.
“Tell us what happened.” Conall’s voice was quiet, but I felt his wolf, pacing and snarling.
So I told them about the mittens with grounding wires, Wilson’s reasons for taking me, and his questions. When I told them about what the doctor had done to me, Conall’s eyes bled gold again, and sharp, peppery rage bled off the men standing around the room.
“What was the doctor’s name?” Parker asked in a soft voice.
“Doctor Becker,” I whispered.
My implant helped me to organize the information into clean, concise facts, but my voice shook a few times. “When Wilson told me he planned to torture me, I burned through the restraints. I… couldn’t stay there,” I whispered.
Jamie stood by the window, his profile sharp against the glass. Parker leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed, his eyes black and cold.
Ash packed his supplies with deliberate care, his movements unhurried. “The sexual assault is its own trauma,” he informed me quietly. “It will surface later. Be ready for it.”
“Alright,” I whispered.
Conall’s jaw worked, his rage pouring through the bond, a contained inferno that charged the air. He gently stroked my hair.
“They’re dead.” It wasn’t a threat, just a statement of fact. “Every one of them.”
“Not yet.” I straightened and looked around. “I need to go back to Wyoming, and you need to inform the Pack Council about what happened.”
“Excuse me?” Jamie cocked an eyebrow. “You were kidnapped, assaulted, had a run-in with Marlowe, and burned the shit out of yourself. And you want to go back to work?”
“Langston is just a pawn, and Marlowe is a wildcard, but the long-term threat is Apex and the government takeover,” I argued. “We also need to prove Apex is responsible, and shut down the site before it becomes operational.”
“They’re using the shifter registration vote as ‘the shiny object’ for something bigger,” Parker agreed.
“You have to hand it to those soulless fuckers,” Jamie sighed. “They’re good at chumming the waters to cover their true objectives.”
“I’m so close. I have to finish the investigation, then we need to neutralize Wilson, and take Apex out. But you need to mobilize the Packs.”
Conall studied me. His eyes were back to gray, but his wolf still lingered. “You’re not going anywhere until you stabilize and those burns heal a little more.”
He had a point. “Then we go in forty-eight hours. If we don’t do it together, I’ll do it alone.” I held his gaze.
The bond between us hummed, and his reluctance and protectiveness curled around me as his thumb brushed my cheekbone. “Forty-eight hours,” he repeated, his voice rough.
Ash gathered the medical supplies and Jamie pushed off the window frame. “I’ll call Flint. You’ll need some clothes and gear.”
Parker squeezed my shoulder and followed them out. Conall’s arms tightened around me, and my head dropped to his chest, his heartbeat steady under my ear. The bond was alive and warm.
The pain in my ankles took my breath away, my wrist ached, and my ribs protested with every breath. But the implant hummed, cool and analytical, already running scenarios.
We had forty-eight hours, then I was going after Wilson Apex. With or without Conall.