Myka’s small, soft hand guided Spike’s to the downy fur of Jordan’s belly. The connection, the three of them together, cleared Spike’s vision. He blinked, finding himself lying on the pavement, one hand on his cub’s sleeping body, Myka kneeling beside him.
“Mate,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m here,” Myka said. She leaned to him, bathing him in her warmth, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m here.”
Pain like Spike had never felt before flooded his body, fire incandescent in his blood and along every nerve. But he kept one hand on his cub, twined his fingers through Myka’s, and knew he’d never felt better in his life.
*** *** ***
“Spike’s home for battered warriors,” Myka said, opening the door for Liam and Kim, Kim carrying Katriona. “Welcome.”
They lounged about Spike’s living room—Connor, Ellison, Ella, and Jordan. Spike was stretched out on the kitchen table while Dylan picked tiny pieces of shot out of Spike’s chest and legs. Myka’s cry that they should take him to a hospital was met with quiet stares. Arriving at a hospital with a gunshot wound meant alerting the police, Dylan said, and Spike didn’t need that.
“Shifters heal fast,” Spike had croaked as he’d staggered into the house, supported by Myka and Ellison. Dylan had at least given him a shot of local anesthetic before he started.
“Where’s Andrea?” Ellison asked as Liam, his face bruised and bloody, limped inside. Myka did not want to ask Liam what had happened to Nate. “Andrea and her healing juju? And Sean? What the hell happened to him?”
Liam’s face split into a grin. “Andrea’s a little busy. Sean’s with her.” The sparkle in his eyes was one of joy, and Kim smiled as hard as Liam did.
Connor leapt from the sofa. He looked worse than any of them—his face battered, one eye swollen shut, and he cradled his arm carefully across his chest—but he sprang to his feet with the vigor of youth. “Andrea’s having her cub!” he shouted.
“Holy shit,” Ellison said. “No wonder Sean vanished. The only thing that could make him take his eyes off Gavan would be a call like that.”
“He and Andrea are at the clinic with Ronan and his entourage,” Liam said. “Glory too. Waiting for the family to join them. Sorry, Spike.”
Spike lifted a hand and gave Liam a weak thumb’s-up gesture. “A cub coming in is way more important than me. I’ve only been shot.”
Dylan picked out another piece with tweezers and dropped it with a tink into a glass bowl. “I’ll catch up. He took most of the blast. If we save the pieces, we can fill up another couple cartridges.”
“No thanks,” Liam said. “Spike, boy-o, when you’re feeling better, come on down and say hello to the next Morrissey.”
“Go away,” Spike said, his voice too weak. “You’re hard to take when you’re chipper.” He held up his hand. “Tell Andrea the Goddess go with her and her cub. She’s strong, Liam, and a healer. She’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, Spike.” Liam looked somber a moment. “The Goddess go with you too. You’re in good hands.”
“Ouch!” Spike jumped as Dylan dug deep. “Right. Sure.”
Ellison leveraged himself up, he too sporting plenty of bruises plus claw and bite marks. He leaned down and hugged Ella, who looked exhausted, then came to Myka and did the same.
“He’ll be fine,” Ellison said quietly to Myka as he held her. “He has you. The mate bond is an amazing thing.”
“Ellison,” Spike said, his voice holding the edge of a growl. “Get away from my mate, or I come off this table.”
Ellison laughed, gave Myka a final squeeze, and let her go. “You’re so screwed,” he said to Spike. “No more mateless nights, no more bachelor days. See ya, Spike. I’m going to go guard a lady having a cub.”
Myka stepped back so Ellison could go by, following the exuberant Connor, who paused long enough to give Myka a breath-stealing hug. “Guarding her?” Myka asked Kim.
Kim bounced Katriona, who was trying to eat her own fist. “It’s a Shifter thing. Friends and family gather while the mother has the cub. I guess in the old days, Shifters had to guard the females against predators while they gave birth.”
Made sense. Or would if Myka weren’t so worried about Spike.
Connor had assured Myka as they’d driven back to town that Andrea, Sean’s mate, had healing powers that would close up Spike so fast it would be like he’d never been opened. But now all seemed to think Spike would be fine without her.
Liam squeezed Myka’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on him, eh?”
“Are you sure he doesn’t need a hospital?”
Spike growled. “I hate hospitals.”
“So do I,” Myka said. She thought back to Jillian dying, the machines beeping. She didn’t want to see that again. And Dylan was right—they didn’t need to deal with the human police on top of everything else.
Liam squeezed Myka’s shoulder again as Kim said her good-byes and breezed out. “He just needs you,” Liam said softly. “The touch of a mate. Good night, kids.”
He caught up to Kim on the porch, slid his arm around her waist, and kissed her lips before leading her down to the street.
The touch of a mate.
He has you. The mate bond is an amazing thing.
The room went quiet, except for the clink of shot into the bowl, and Spike’s grunts of pain. Ella stood up and walked to her grandson, and Myka took her place next to Jordan on the sofa.
“Spike, I’m sorry,” Ella said. “I couldn’t protect him.”
Spike turned his head and reached out a hand to Ella. Ella took it and clasped it to her chest.
“Hey, that was Ronan’s job,” Spike said. “And Nate’s, the ass**le. At one time I counted him my friend.”
“Nate’s dead,” Ella said. “Liam . . .”
Spike closed his eyes briefly then opened them again. “The Goddess go with him. Sean wasn’t there.”
Dylan answered curtly. “The woman Hannah is guarding him until Sean can come.”
Spike relaxed. “Thank the Goddess.”
“What does that mean?” Myka asked from the sofa.
“Means Sean will be able to stick the Sword of the Guardian into him,” Spike said. “Releasing his soul instead of letting it stay bound to the flesh. Nate did the unforgivable, but I wouldn’t wish that on him.”