Jack, page 7
part #2 of Hunted Shifters Legacy Series
She didn’t respond after—or at least, he didn’t hear her. Numbness alternated with the pain, providing blessed relief. But it also provided a helplessness, one that frustrated him as he couldn’t fight it. A buzzing sound filled his ears, and he soon deduced it was Kit saying something. It took him a while to figure out that they weren’t questions, and she was…
She was telling him stories.
Kit was trying to keep him awake, keep him distracted from the pain as she talked: about her life, about her passions. Her love for technology, her skills, her fear of her past because she didn’t know where her skills had come from. Her parents had been normal, just doing their regular Friday night movie session, when she’d been at camp for some school credit. They’d been killed by vampires in their home.
She’d been alone since, and Edmund had found her when she’d been trying to search for those vampires. Edmund had killed them for her, then had discovered her talent.
Edmund had taken her in and had kept her safe since.
Her hair? Colored regularly because she felt dull without it.
Her ex? A bastard who'd only slept with her—repeatedly—because of her boobs and had dumped her after he got tired of it.
They were secret parts of her, shared with Jack in a casual manner. Fascination weaved with his pain, keeping him awake and yearning to learn more. But the pain came back, anyway.
And it eventually knocked him out cold.
Chapter 9
The stitching went well—a miracle in itself, considering how shaky her fingers had been when she started. Kit stepped back to check her work, relieved to see that Jack was stitched clean, bandaged, and covered with a thick blanket on her couch. Now, he just needed to rest, and she was going to give him that time.
She had things to do first, starting with a shower and ending with obsessing over the frequencies all over again. But the silence during her watch was bliss, and soon she gave in to the numb feeling as she strode to her bedroom and crashed on her bed. She closed her eyes, the fear from earlier coming back and making her shake. The regrets, too, as she realized Jack had kept it from her to protect her.
She needed to trust him more.
Kit slept with that thought, going under. She slept with peace at first before the dreams slithered in: of damp, dark spaces, of murky waters where slit-eyed creatures lay waiting. Predators, ready to pounce.
Ready to tear her to pieces, evident from the scratches they’d left behind all over her skin.
The dream changed to the fight, then to Jack’s wounds and red blood spilling over. It kept changing, never leaving her alone until she was half-aware of her tossing and turning in bed and the cold sweat soaking her body. Kit blinked repeatedly, bleary eyes unable to clear. Her body felt beaten up, cold, and she wouldn’t stop shaking. Odd, because she was pretty sure she’d slept a few good hours. Gritting her teeth, she climbed off the bed, intent on checking on Jack and making sure he was still in good condition.
Dizziness assaulted her, and she felt her eyelids close and was unable to fight it as her body turned numb.
More dreams came. When she woke up next, the sun was up, blinding her…no, not the sun. The light. Her bedroom lights were turned on, and she hated it.
“Off,” she muttered. “Off.”
“Hold on, sweetheart. I’ll turn them off in no time.”
The voice had her eyes snapping open, taking in the blurry sight of Jack sitting on the bed beside her. He was in clothes, he looked alert, and he had a hand over her forehead.
“What…?”
“You’re running a fever.”
“What…?”
A sick feeling slashed at her stomach, rolling hard. That stopped her question as she scrambled off the bed, ignoring his protest. She raced to the bathroom, slipped on the tiles, and landed on her knees—hard. Behind her, she heard Jack curse and hurry after her.
No, oh no—
A belching sound and Kit was retching her insides into the toilet bowl. Repeatedly. It felt like she was dying, but underneath that was a humiliation as she belatedly felt Jack’s presence behind her. He was watching, leaning…holding her hair up and away from her face.
Goddamn it.
She attempted a thanks, attempted to tell him she was fine and he could go. She continued to puke her guts out, wave after wave of torture that made her skin clammy and her body tired. At one point, she was so weakened that she could only rest her head on the edge of the bowl.
“Go,” she might’ve said, but it sounded like a croak. Frog-like. “Go…”
Movement came from the edge of her senses, and then…a glass of water was on her lips. She took a few sips.
She puked all of it again.
The rest became a blur of turned guts, babbled apologies, and Kit pretty much hanging between a balance of humiliation, misery, and sickness. She tasted menthol on her tongue, felt arms carrying her as if she weighed nothing. She tried to protest again, but it was like cotton was stuck in her throat.
She fell asleep. Woke up, fell back, a constant motion that she just couldn’t fight. The blur continued, making everything hazy, like a dream she couldn’t quite grasp. On her next return to her senses, she felt great heaves possessing her body, and she was so, so cold. There were blankets surrounding her, and there was light from the main area flitting in through the half-open door.
Jack was beside her, sitting up. He had a towelette in hand, and he ran it over her forehead, her cheeks, her neck. Coolness hit her, making her teeth chatter.
“You’re…you’re here.”
“I am,” was the easy response. A certain joy came that he was absolutely fine.
“You’re putting…ice on me,” she complained. “I’m already…already cold.”
“You might feel cold, but you’re burning up. You caught something in there. We need to get your fever down.”
There was no need to ask where in there was. She eyed him, leaning against his firm touch and trying to get away at the same time. That conflict alone was exhausting.
“You can go,” she attempted to say, then stopped when he gave her a look. “You’re good at that.”
“What?”
“Making people feel like dirt.”
Immediately, those eyes softened, and his face moved closer. That wasn’t any better, because now that he was looking at her gently with that extremely handsome face, she felt tingly and fluttery and wanted to reach out.
Maybe it was the lack of restraint in her state that had her doing exactly that, tracing a hand on his cheek before her fingers caressed down his jawline. He tensed, but didn’t move, gaze locked on her in quiet study.
“Ice blue eyes,” she muttered.
“Sometimes they just look harsh, but I don’t look at you like you’re dirt. I never looked at you that way.”
“Then what…did you…”
“I looked at you like you were annoying at first. Then I was impressed.”
“Because…clever?”
“Because you can’t seem to stop talking.”
She choked on a laugh, then shivered again. His hand went to her shoulder, a steady support.
“Ridiculous,” she managed to croak out.
“Somehow I’ve gotten used to it.” He leaned closer, and her fingers stilled. She hadn’t even realized they were still caressing him. “You’re not dirt to me, Kitty O’Hara. And I’m looking at you this way because I’m trying to tell you I’m not leaving until you’ve fully recovered.”
Well.
Her name sounded oddly good from his mouth. It pleased her. The warm feeling melded with the cold, a contrast that was confusing.
“You sure know…” She cleared her throat, felt it burn. Ugh. “You sure know how to make a girl swoon.”
“Funny. Most girls find me intimidating.”
“Bet they wanna get in your pants, anyway.”
That had his eyes widening, then peering. “Not you, too.”
Oh, the ego in that tone. She sent him a searing scowl.
“Sorry. I’m not into drab men.”
He chuckled low in his throat, perfectly amused. Oh, how that tingled, making her realize what a liar she was. She wanted to touch him some more, wanted her fingers on his skin. Wanted to explore, even if she had no right. But the tiredness seeped into her bones, and she yawned instead.
“Get some rest, Kit. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Kit eyed him wearily, torn between wanting him gone and wanting him there. But sleep was coming back, and she had no choice but to allow it to come for her.
More dreams, more waking moments peppered with glimpses of Jack: him holding her, him taking care of her, him murmuring words she couldn’t understand. She clung on, unable to help it. She kept expecting to be better, but it was like a sinking ship as she felt her body growing chillier, felt her muscles growing more painful. Eventually, she could no longer feel, and she just floated into nothingness.
Deep in the back of her mind, she knew her condition was growing worse, evident by the frustration and agitation on Jack’s features every time she caught a glimpse. Then there was his worry, vibrating from those blue eyes, and it frustrated her, too, that she couldn’t reassure him. She wanted to. She wanted to be well, wanted to be the one to take care of him and make up for it.
She wanted, but her body gave up on her and swept her into oblivion.
* * *
The lights shone over her eyelids until Kit woke up—and in doing so, she was ready to complain that it was too bright, and she wanted darkness pronto. Awareness came in slow intervals: the lack of coldness, the profuse sweating, the dry feeling in her throat. Muscles ached, but she’d never felt so well-rested.
Realization punched her in the gut when it became more obvious that the light was from the sun.
Her eyes snapped open, vision bleary before focusing. She was in a four-post bed of thick, dark wood, the sheets blue velvet. Most of the furniture was old and expensive, but weary, needing upgrades. The window beside her was large, stained with vibrant glass colors.
This wasn’t her place. This wasn’t Jack’s, either.
Kit attempted to sit up, relieved when she could do so with no difficulty. The door to her other side opened, and she froze and gaped at the tall—very tall—man who stood there, the sunlight illuminating his features. His curly, reddish-brown hair stood out, along with his height, and brown eyes did a slow perusal that was more clinical than personal.
And she knew.
“Levi. You’re Levi Stone.”
The clan’s medical healer, and the one guy who never really ventured out of their pocket. Which meant…
“Yes, it’s me. Hello, Kit.”
“I’m in your pocket.”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit. I’m really in your realm.”
The man’s—shifter, really—mouth quirked as if trying not to smile. He was a pale guy, as if he didn’t go out much, which he probably didn’t. Those brown eyes were infinitely gentle as he walked over to her, steps careful so as not to unnerve her. She didn’t mind, as it allowed her the luxury to study him back.
“Yes, you are,” he finally replied.
“How?”
“We received an emergency transmission from your location. Leila stopped by and found you in your state. You were dying, and we had to take you in.”
Oh.
"Did Jack go home?”
“No. He sent the emergency transmission and demanded to come. He nearly had a fight with Leila over it.”
Oh.
Now that was the biggest shocker. That he would go against his distrust of this clan and actually come here…her heart warmed, and Kit had to clear her throat to keep from fretting.
“Am I okay now?”
“Yes. He told us what happened, and it turns out you had poison in your system. You puked most of it out, but we had to flush out the rest.”
“Oh.” Then, “Thank you, Levi.”
At that, Levi finally smiled, and she became flustered by his openly boyish charm. Man, shifters really were too good-looking for their own good. He waved a hand.
“It was nothing. You’re one of us.”
She smiled back, feeling comfortable with him right away. In her few interactions with the clan’s medical healer—mostly via phone—she’d always found him to be calm, reasonable. Gentle. Of course, that muscled body indicated he was a force to be reckoned with just like the rest of them, but his healer side was more prominent, making him less intimidating.
“Thank you,” she repeated, warming up now. “So I’m staying here until…?”
“Until you take a bath and eat. You can take a stroll if you want. But bath and eat first, because I’m sure you want both. We have food ready in the kitchen. Celine has taken it upon herself to cook us great meals since she got here.”
There was affection in his tone, and it was impressive how Celine had them wrapped around her finger in a few months’ time, especially after the distrust the human woman threw among everyone upon her first appearance here. Now, she was just as much a part of the clan as Kit was.
The thought of food should’ve made her feel queasy, but Kit felt her stomach rumbling and mouth salivating instead. As if he sensed it, Levi grinned, turning the boyish charm up until she was grinning, too.
“Give me a few minutes to shower. Then food, then…a tour of this mansion that I’ve been dying to see?”
Brown eyes sparkled. “Sounds like a plan.”
She stretched, right before another thought came to mind—an image, actually, and the lingering feeling of long, capable fingers on her. She shivered, remembering how exposed she’d been to him. It made her stomach clench, and Kit had to force the memories back in.
“Where’s Jack, by the way?” she asked as casually as possible.
“Somewhere around here. I’ll let him know you’re awake.”
“Oh. Okay.” Worry immediately hit her, remembering not everyone there tolerated Jack. “Where’s…”
“Where’s the most handsome man in all of the world? Right here, Scarlett.”
Recognition flared, followed by pleasure as her eyes took in the man poised beside Levi: tall but not as tall, with a build meant for speed rather than strength. Mesmerizing violet eyes, almost black, took Kit in before a smile appeared, then a dimple. Kit had met Andrei St. Charles just three months ago, and he instantly reminded her of a stereotypical French man who cussed loud, aired out his opinions relentlessly, and flirted with every person he could. He was pretty, too.
Crazily enough, that made her like him more.
“Hello. Back from your mission?”
“I just got in and found out your condition. Come on. I’ll take you on that tour.” He winked. “While the boss isn’t here.”
Kit eyed his dirty clothes, then that playful smile. A giddy excitement came over her at the prospect of exploring their home.
“Sounds lovely.”
Chapter 10
Leila Masters was looking at him like she wanted to devour him and play with him at the same time, and he supposed it was a look that normally had men begging on their knees. But Jack wasn’t most men, and he found he could only stare back. He couldn’t claim to be calm about it, though, as his body was braced for any slight movement, whether it was seduction or an attack.
Neither came.
“I didn’t realize you’d become close enough to be in bed with our Kitty.”
The familiarity of Kit’s name on her tongue had him bristling, but he managed to keep his composure. Jack shrugged. “We’ve become acquainted, and not in the way you seem to think.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were implying it.”
“Implying is not in a cop’s nature.”
“I wasn’t the one implying, and I’m off duty right now.”
Wonder flitted in her eyes, right before they narrowed in speculation. “You’re a wise-ass, aren’t you?”
“I’m wise, and I have an ass,” he agreed gravely. Impatience was fluttering at this whole conversation, so he nodded before it could escalate. Obviously, she was trouble enough that she’d probably enjoy some little fight. “Thanks for bringing Kit here. I’ll take my leave.”
He expected resistance, but she surprisingly left him alone. He kept going, hurrying up and out of there. Levi had pointed out where the kitchen was, and now Jack wondered if he should just return to Kit’s room…
“Hey, Jack.”
The familiar voice instantly lifted his spirits, and he was promptly engulfed in a warm hug and the comforting scent of orange shampoo. He took it in before easing her back, smiling at the sight of Celine Peach, all flushed and happy in a yellow dress and white apron. It clashed prettily with her bright red hair, but she didn’t seem to mind.
Beside her, a girl close to a year old with the same coloring held out her chubby arms to him. Jack tilted his head, studying her thoroughly before breaking into a grin and picking her up.
Celine rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
“Watch out for that one. She bites.”
In response, Sidney bared her so-called fangs, small but looking sharp. Jack grinned wider. “Like mother, like daughter, eh?”
“Whatever. Come on. There’s still warm food. A couple of the clan members just ate.”
He wandered in the kitchen, found it gloriously old with a brand of cozy. Bacon and some herby omelet wafted in his senses, and his mouth watered as Celine encouraged him to dig in. Jack kissed Sidney’s cheek before putting her down, hit with a wave of domesticity as he watched Celine bustling around. She’d sounded happy during their last communication, but looking at her now, he could see it, too: that sense of contentment, as if there was no other place in the world she’d rather be.
“How’s Solis?”
At the mention of her mate, her green eyes lit up. Sidney’s did, too, which said a whole lot more than Jack had expected.
“He’s out on a task, but he’s been great. It’s been…it’s been amazing, Jack. I can’t even explain.”
And there was no need to, as this was just what Jack wanted: for Celine to be happy and safe. He ate, then reluctantly worked through the doubts in his head and tried to accept that maybe meddling had no place here anymore.
