Fate Revealed, page 13
No, the only way the Helheim pack would grow was if their females started having pups, but that was a whole other issue. They had a grand total of three: Eaton, who was too old to bear children, Grace, who was only ten, and Saskia who was only just of breeding age.
“Although what you did is grave and unlawful, I will not punish you for what you’ve done, Rhett. You have single-handedly saved the pack and you should be rewarded for that.”
Before Rhett could respond, there was a huge bang outside the office door soon followed by a thud. Antain rose from his chair and moved around his desk, but Rhett stopped him—his instinct to protect his uncle and alpha too strong to ignore.
“I’ll see what it is,” he said, moving towards the door. All he could smell was pack, so it wasn’t an intrusion by another wolf. Grasping the handle, Rhett pulled open the door, ready and tensed for a fight. Outside, one of the chairs that sat against the hallway wall had been destroyed. Splinters of wood and huge nails stuck out of the wreck, and when Rhett’s head swiveled to the left, he found out the reason for the redecorating.
Sabel stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes shifting color each time he blinked. “I want to see Antain,” he growled between clenched teeth. Before Rhett could respond, Sabel pushed past him and into the office. Rhett stalked after him and shut the door.
“Sabel,” Antain addressed him calmly.
“I heard everything,” Sabel said.
Antain was sitting back behind his desk, a fresh finger of whiskey sitting in his glass. The alpha picked it up and slowly took a sip before placing it back onto his desk. Rhett wondered what, and how much, Sabel had heard. Was it the first part of the conversation, or was it about him not getting punished for what he’d done? Antain was dragging the suspense out and Rhett could hardly stand it.
“And what did you hear exactly?”
“Rhett gave his blood to her.”
“And?” his uncle asked casually.
“You aren’t going to punish him for it. If it was anyone else, you would have slapped them with a sentence straight away. You can’t have double standards. Is he part of the pack, or not?”
“You know he is,” Antain replied in a cold, hard voice. Rhett knew that you couldn’t push his uncle into anything he didn’t believe in.
“He broke a serious rule. He must be punished.” Antain’s eyes found Rhett’s and Rhett saw the regret in them. Sabel was right. If it had been any other wolf, punishment would have been meted out swiftly.
Antain’s chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh. “You’re right. He did break a rule and he will be punished.”
Rhett couldn’t see Sabel’s face, but he was sure the male was wearing a satisfied grin. “I’ll go and get set up,” he replied.
“No,” Antain boomed. “This crime is serious and must be witnessed by the whole pack. We will convene again in three nights’ time and punishment will be decided on then.”
“Fine,” Sabel eventually said, grinning as he walked towards the door. He met Rhett’s gaze and his wolf slipped, causing Sabel’s top lip to curl away from his teeth.
After the door was shut, Antain turned to Rhett. “I’m sorry, Rhett, but he’s right. If it was anyone else, I would have come down on them like a ton of bricks. It’s only fair.”
Rhett shrugged. “You don’t have to apologize to me, Uncle. Sabel would have pouted until he got what he wanted anyway. Besides, I knew what I was doing. I’ll take whatever is coming to me with pride.”
His uncle finished his drink in one swallow. “I know you will, son.” Standing up, he walked Rhett to the door. “Go and eat now. You look a little pale,” Antain said with a sad smile.
EIGHTEEN
The sound of beeping woke up Indi. Irritated by the noise, she swung her arm out to turn off her alarm clock, but when a small pinching sensation near the crook of her elbow turned into a scream of knock-it-the-fuck-off, one of Indi’s eyes cracked open to see what the problem was. With her heart in her throat, she opened up her other eye just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.
Bringing her fingers to her arm, she touched the edge of the thin opaque tape anchoring a huge needle into her skin. Panic formed a lump in her throat. With her eyes, Indi followed the small tube that came out of the needle up to a baggy of clear liquid hanging from a metal pole above her head.
When the beeping became a little faster, she looked to her right, finding the machine responsible for all the noise. A new wire snaked down over the blankets to her right index finger, ending in a plastic peg-looking thing. The lines on the monitor’s screen were jumping in time to the thumping of her heart.
Against her will, she forced her eyes to look down the rest of her body. The snug-fitting blankets around her torso felt like they’d been made with sheets of sandpaper dipped in acid. Her heart started pounding harder, making her deaf to everything else but that sound. Pure fear made her sit up while every nerve ending was firing, begging her to get out of there, to save herself. Licking her dry lips, she pulled the tape off her arm quickly, then yanked the needle from her flesh. Her whole arm began to throb as blood pumped out of the vein she’d just unplugged. It oozed from the huge hole in her arm, dripping down onto the white blanket.
Indi pulled the plastic peg from her finger, and when she did, the machinery went berserk. Alarms were sounding in her room and out in the hall. With sluggish movements, she threw the blankets from her body and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Someone was yelling out in the hallway, but the buzz of their words was at war with the machines in her room.
Breathlessly, she lowered herself onto the ground, grabbing the side of the bed to stop herself from collapsing when her knees gave out suddenly. She was wearing a johnnie, her back exposed to the recirculated air from the air conditioning. Her teeth chattered as she surveyed the room, the alarms still ringing in her ears.
“Indigo?”
Indi turned to find a man wearing a white coat approaching her. He wrapped his hand around her upper arm and helped her up although she was trying to fight him off.
“No,” she murmured, her head spinning like she’d just jumped off a malfunctioning tilt-a-whirl.
He looked down at her arm. White Coat’s head swung around towards the door he’d just come through. “Nurse! Nurse!” He turned back to Indi. “You need to get back into bed.” He pushed her shoulders back to emphasise his words.
Indi pulled against his grip, but she was weak. She couldn’t fight him. “Let me go,” she demanded in a small voice.
“Now!” he told her, raising his voice. Another hand came up under her arms and lifted. She was pulled back onto the bed, her legs swung back over and covered with the itchy blankets. The doctor pulled her arm away from her body and looked over the newly-made wound. Indi tried taking her arm back from him, but his fingers dug in to hold her still. She could smell her blood escaping her body too quickly. A flash of an image she couldn’t decipher seared her frontal lobe before black fuzziness started to eat her vision.
“We’re trying to help you. You’re bleeding out. We need to stop it before we’re slipping in it. Relax, okay? You’re in good hands.”
Indi’s eyes darted around the room. There were more people in there now with plastic-gloved hands and serious expressions. A wad of gauze was being held against her skin while another needle was being lined up for her other arm. She couldn’t afford to lose consciousness again. With her fist bunched up, she swung out, hitting the male nurse trying to do the jab-and-run on her arm square on the jaw. He went down like a ton of bricks, hitting the floor with a fleshy slap.
“Can we get a sedative in here, please!” the doctor screamed over his shoulder as he tried to hold Indi down by her shoulders. Another pair of hands was at her ankles, holding her to the bed, but only just. Indi’s instincts to fight were running at one hundred and ten percent as she fought every single person reaching for her. Then there was a sharp pinch on her thigh before all the lights went out.
Indi woke up suddenly, her body tensed and ready for a fight. She raised her hands, but only managed to get them an inch or so off the bed. She tried again, and the same thing happened. A jangling, metallic sound echoed in her ears with each jerk of her body until she realized that she was responsible for the sound. She looked down and cursed. They’d restrained her wrists and ankles so she lay spread-eagled on the bed under the blankets.
With her eyes narrowed, she looked around the room from her prostrate position on the bed. Directly in front of her was a door with a wire-infused glass panel in the center. Through the panel, she could see the nurses station set back into the corner and a hallway bustling with people.
Behind the desk, there was a blonde with a name tag that read “Melissa”. She was busily feeding some information into a computer. Indi squeezed her eyes shut suddenly, drawing deep breaths through her nose. She couldn’t believe what she’d just done. The desk was around thirty feet away from her, but she’d been able to see it all so clearly.
One breath in…This can’t be happening.
One breath out…What kind of fucked up drugs did they give me in here?
One breath in…
Indi swallowed down convulsively on the vomit that had made a run for the exit. All she could smell was ammonia, human waste, weeping wounds and decay. The scent was sticky, coating the back of her tongue and clinging to her lungs.
Her eyes squeezed shut, but that only made things worse. Instead of just being able to smell everything, she was able to hear everything, too.
There was an evac chopper on its way in. Indi recognized the sound because they flew over her building all the time. But this one was far away, just a faint buzzing in her eardrums.
I must be dreaming, she thought to herself. This is simply not possible.
Her breathing hitched in her throat while her heart started pounding harder against her ribcage with invisible fists. The machine next to her head went berserk trying to keep up with the rhythm.
The door opposite the bed opened with a hush as Indi continued to lose it. With cautious eyes, she watched the same doctor who had come in before with all the interest of a cornered—and in her case, restrained—cat.
“Hello, Indigo,” he said, keeping a good, safe distance away from her. “I’m Doctor Price. Are you feeling a little more in control of yourself now?” he asked in a slightly condescending voice. Indi didn’t like it, baring her teeth at him. Movement from the door caught her attention. Someone was standing guard, watching to see if she was going to behave or not.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” she demanded, going for fierce and dangerous, but failing because she was strapped to a hospital bed. The doctor took another step closer to the bed. He was as tall as Jerry, but built like he was allergic to sports or any physical activity. She could tell he was conscious of his height by the way he rolled his shoulders forward. His head was crowned by a mass of black curls that just touched the top of his ears and a pair of deeply-set brown eyes.
He stared at her, frowning. They must have removed her contacts. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She needed a distraction. “Well?” she snarled.
He shook his head slowly before focusing on a chart he held in his hands. “We had to sedate you. You attacked one of our nurses. Do you know that?”
“Of course I know that. He was trying to stick another damn needle in me.”
“We had to, Indigo. You pulled your other IV out and you were bleeding out. See?” he asked, nodding down to her left arm. Reluctantly, she shifted her eyes to the crook of her elbow where, sure enough, there was a gauze pad stuck to her skin. She looked at her right arm and found the offensive needle she’d fought so hard against.
“Can you take it out?”
“Not right now. I want you to eat and drink something before we take any lines out.”
“Can you take the restraints off, then? I feel like I’m being prepped for execution here.”
The doctor glanced over towards the door. The dark shadow standing there gave a nod and the doctor turned back to her.
“You’re not going to lose your temper again?”
“Scouts honor,” she replied.
With a sharp nod, Doctor Price put the clipboard he’d been fondling down onto the bed and undid all four buckles. She rubbed her wrists for a long time afterwards.
“How are you feeling, Indigo?” he asked.
“Indi,” she replied, still rubbing her skin.
He glanced down at her, the light catching the gold tones in his brown eyes. “Indi, how are you feeling?”
“Okay, I guess.”
He asked, “You’re not in any pain?”
“Should I be?”
“No. Just a routine question.”
She looked around the room. “Where am I?”
“You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital.”
“In Reynard?” How in the hell had she ended up twenty miles from Buxton? “How did I get here?”
“You were found outside the hospital. Someone had pretty much dropped you off and driven away.”
She frowned. “I was dumped?”
“Dumped is not a very nice word to use.”
“What was wrong with me?”
“Well, you see, that was the strange thing. We couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you. You were unconscious, but that was all. We were hoping you’d be able to tell us something about what happened to you.”
Indi strained her memory, trying to bring forward any recollection about how she’d ended up in the next city. But all she came up with was a whole lot of nothing—a fuzzy black hole of confusion. “I don’t remember anything.”
“So you have no recollection of what happened to you?”
“No. I can’t remember anything after getting off the phone with Jerry and leaving my apartment building.”
“Jerry?” Price asked, one eyebrow arching questioningly at her.
“My brother.”
“Right. So, you didn’t feel light-headed or nauseous? Did you have a tingle in your arm or any tightness in your chest?”
“No. I don’t remember anything,” she told him again, wondering if he was hard of hearing. Should she be speaking louder? He frowned and picked up the chart again. Indi licked her dry lips. “So, doc, what you’re saying is that you didn’t have any idea what was wrong with me when you found me. Is that about accurate?”
He leafed through a few pages before saying, “You were unconscious, unresponsive to light and pain, but you seemed to be breathing on your own. Brain function was normal. There were no injuries on your body except for some scars on your back.” His dark eyes met hers again. “Do you want to talk about those scars, Indi?” Indi swallowed down hard. “And why do you carry a knife?” he added conversationally.
She pinned him with her gaze. “I want that back.”
“You do know it’s an offense to carry a concealed weapon, don’t you?”
“Think I give a fuck?” She could feel the cold tingle of anger rushing through her blood. Staring down at her hands, she clenched them into fists to try and control her breathing. She knew if she didn’t cool off, she’d be restrained again. With great effort, she uncurled her fingers and flexed them a few times.
“Indi? Will you answer my question about the scars?”
She looked up into his curious eyes and the impulse to see if he squirmed was just too good to pass up. “I had a foster father who enjoyed bleeding me while he and his buddies gang raped me.”
The doctor’s mouth tightened as he fought not to flinch. She smiled sadistically.
“Is that why you carry the blade, to protect yourself?” he asked eventually.
Her top lip curled up in a sneer. Doctor Price stared back at the clear sign of aggression for a long, slow minute before reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out her knife still in its leather sheath. Turning it over in his hands, he said, “I can’t give this back to you,” he said seriously. “Hospital policy.”
Indi’s eyes burned with the intensity of hellfire. “Give it to me,” she growled. Her anger was slowly rising, simmering like a volcano under her skin. Doctor Price didn’t drop his gaze. It looked as if he wanted to, though; sweat was breaking out on his brow and upper lip the longer their eyes were locked.
“I can’t give it back––” Price began. His words trailed off, his eyes becoming cloudy like cataracts had just formed in the last quarter of a second.
“Give it to me,” she repeated. She wouldn’t let anyone have her knife. She wouldn’t ever be left unprotected again.
“I’m not––” he uttered softly, his hand slowly releasing the sheath. Indi’s fingers naturally gravitated to the steel. As soon as she laid her hand on the knife, she yanked it away from him.
Biting her lip, Indi’s eyes dropped to the leather-sheathed hunting knife and lifted it into her lap. A moment later, she shoved it under her pillow, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease knowing it was back where it was supposed to be.
When she looked up, she noticed the doctor was shaking his head slowly, his brown eyes clearing just as suddenly as they’d clouded. “Okay, Indi,” he said, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Umm…” He seemed to have lost his train of thought. “Before we start thinking about getting you something to eat, I have just a few small tests to run on you.” He paused to rub his forehead like he was trying to stimulate blood flow. “So if you could please look at my finger.”
“Are you feeling okay, doc?”
“Fine, fine…Just, ah, I suddenly got a splitting headache.”
“Maybe you should be the one in the bed then,” she suggested.
He looked at her pointedly. “I’ll be fine.” Doctor Price pulled a penlight from his front pocket. “Follow my finger with your eyes.” She did. He must have liked what he’d seen because he put the little light away.
