Deathtrap (Crossbreed #3)(87)
My heart flip-flopped when the back door suddenly opened. Viktor’s grey wolf leaped inside, his paws wet and dirt all over his coat. He smelled everyone—especially the baby.
Christian rocked the van when he jumped inside and sat next to me without a word.
Realizing we were a man short, my stomach knotted. “Where’s Shepherd?”
“Miss me already?” Shepherd said in a gravelly voice as he climbed in the van, his pants shredded and face spattered with blood. He tossed his leather coat on the bench, his shirt ripped down the front and hanging on him like a vest.
“Everyone thought you were dead,” Wyatt informed him.
Shepherd sat down across from us and wearily stretched out his legs. “If I were dead, I’d come back to haunt your ass.”
Wyatt put on his hat. “See? I told you guys.”
It didn’t take long for Niko to notice that Shepherd was hurt. “You need my help.”
“All I need is a cigarette.” Shepherd used his shirt to wipe the blood off his face, which continued dripping from the gash on his head.
Christian crossed his ankles. “Don’t trouble yourself, Niko. I’m sure Claude will give him a tongue bath when we get home.”
Shepherd flicked his gaze between them. “Fine. Just the gash on my head. It needs stitches, and I don’t trust any of you boneheads enough to thread a needle.”
The shakes came over me.
“Cold?” Christian asked.
While Niko began working his healing magic on Shepherd, Wyatt started up the van and headed home.
I wrung my hands. “No. It’s not that.”
“Can’t you force it out?”
“It doesn’t work like that. Can we stop talking about it?”
“Aye. Lean against me.” Christian draped his arm around my shoulder. “I see you found a nice pair of shoes.”
“I feel like a wet sock that just came out of the washer.”
Viktor’s wolf wedged himself between us and rested his head on the bench.
I stroked his soft ear. “What happened back there?”
Shepherd peeled off his bloodstained shirt and tossed it on the floor. There was no need to guess whose blood that was. “We got out alive.”
“And Cristo?”
A long silence filled in all the blanks. Killing Cristo wouldn’t bring back his woman or change what had happened, but at least no one else would suffer at the hands of that deranged lunatic.
My eyelids dropped like anchors, and I sighed against Christian’s chest.
He spoke quietly so no one else could hear. “When do you want to see your da?”
“Tomorrow,” I whispered back.
“Daddy?”
“Maybe another night you can call me that. Quiet now. I’m carrying you back to bed.” The familiar Irish accent snapped me out of my slumber.
I’d somehow lost myself in my dreams, going back to a time when I was a child and my father would carry me to bed after I’d fallen asleep watching TV. It only took me a few seconds to fast-forward and realize I wasn’t that little girl anymore.
I opened my eyes. Beautiful stained glass windows drifted by, open candles flickering against the wall as Christian floated past them.
“How’s Claude?” I mumbled.
“You shouldn’t worry about that pussy. He’s got Gem bringing him food on a silver platter.”
“I thought Chitahs didn’t like women serving them.”
“He’s learned to pick his battles with Gem.”
I suddenly convulsed when the urge to vomit came over me. Though my stomach was empty, my body was searching for ways to purge Cristo’s light even though it would leak out on its own in due time.
“I need to go to bed,” I rasped.
Christian kept a firm hold of me. “We have a family meeting upstairs.”
Cold sweat touched my brow, and I wiggled my legs. “Then put me down.”
“We’ll get there faster if I carry you.”
“Please, Christian. I need to walk.”
He set my feet on the ground and held my arms until I found my balance. I reminded myself that the sickness would only last another day. In my old life, I would have slept it off. But if Viktor wanted a meeting, then dammit, I wasn’t going to sit it out.
“What floor are we on?”
“The second. We’re going to Wyatt’s World.”
I bit down my laughter. “That makes it sound like an amusement park.”
“It’s the closest thing we have to one. An office, game room, and television all supervised by a clown.”
“How’s your ass?”
“Firm.”
“Any more splinters?”
“Perhaps you should give me a thorough examination after the meeting.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Any second thoughts about going to the family reunion tomorrow? You look like the dead.”
“Just let me sleep in. And tell Viktor I’m not up to cooking breakfast.”
“All part of the master plan?”
“Yep. I deliberately drank all that dark light just to get out of scrambling eggs.”
Claude appeared in the distance and looked as bad as I felt. Gem was trying to be his crutch, but Claude wasn’t about to lean on a woman. Especially a petite one half his size. His arm was in a sling, his shoulder bandaged, and he had a noticeable limp.