Wolf's Fall (Alpha Pack #6)(16)

The wolf let out a sigh, and slept on.

He never knew when she rose later and reluctantly slipped from the room.

* * *

Nick came awake gradually, blinking, eyes adjusting to the gloom. The sun was apparently just coming up, and the room was so dim he couldn’t see where he was. Couldn’t think straight.

It came back in snatches—the call to save the vampire coven from hunters. The Huey. Flying low, shooting.

Being shot.

He was alive then, if damned slow and stoned on whatever the doctors had pumped into him. Lifting his head, he saw white paws stretched in front of him. He didn’t remember shifting. That was good, though, since it would help him get back on his feet much faster.

Just then, a sweet scent tickled his nose. It was faint, whomever it belonged to no longer around, but it drew him all the same. Instinctively he whined, snuffling the covers on one side of the bed to try to make out more of the delicious scent. It seemed to be on his fur as well.

Both the man and the wolf knew the owner of it. Calla. She’d been here?

He wanted her to come back. His wolf wanted to leap from the bed and track her down. The man had more restraint. Barely. Besides, his strength wasn’t up to par just yet.

Concentrating, Nick focused on his human form and made the change. The transformation wasn’t quite as seamless as usual, and was a bit painful given his healing injury, but at least it was quick. Once the change was complete, he took stock of himself.

Lifting his hand, he carefully explored the puckered scar on his chest, and frowned. The f*cker who’d shot him must’ve used silver, so the scar might never totally disappear. However, while that pissed him off to a degree, he had more important things to worry about.

As a distraction to said worries, the television mounted on the wall wasn’t much, but it would have to do until they sprung him. He spent a while flipping back and forth between Good Morning America and the Today show, and knew he’d reached a sad state when he found himself engrossed in a story about Miley Cyrus’s tongue and whether she’d donate it to science one day.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, shutting off the TV in disgust.

“That bad?”

His gaze jerked to the doorway, where Calla stood smiling at him. He sat up straighter, or tried. Still quite sore, he winced. “Worse. Thank God you’re here to save me, or I might have started with Jerry Springer next. I think they’re discussing ticking internal clocks and exploding ovaries or something. Hell if I know.”

She laughed, wrinkling her nose adorably. “Then it’s a good thing I arrived when I did.”

He studied the vampire, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. She was gorgeous, as always, dark hair falling around her face and shoulders. A snug pink T-shirt with a V-neck emphasized her breasts, and nice jeans encased her long legs. She wore high-heeled strappy wedge sandals and her toes were painted to match her shirt.

He’d like to get a closer look at those toes. While kissing his way up those long legs. His wolf rumbled in agreement, and he cleared his throat to mask the sound.

“What have you got behind your back?” he asked, curious.

“You caught me!” She was clearly delighted that he’d noticed, and came to sit by the bed. From behind her, she brought forth a square tin and thrust it at him. “For you.”

“Me?” Taking the tin, he stared at it, then at Calla. “A present?”

“Yep. Go on; open it.”

“Nobody’s given me anything in ages.” Sad, but true. He didn’t think anyone even knew when his birthday was, except maybe Hammer.

Eagerly, he pried open the lid, and inhaled with sheer bliss. “Holy shit! You brought me cookies? Chocolate chip and snickerdoodle, my favorites.”

“I made them myself,” she said proudly, clearly happy that he liked his gift.

Snatching a fat chocolate chip one, he took a large bite and moaned in ecstasy. “Mmm. Only thing better than this is sex.”

“Very true. But the cookies will have to suffice, for now.” Her eyes sparkled with humor, and a lot of heat, if he wasn’t mistaken.

He almost choked on his cookie. His dick made a valiant effort to express just how very on board he was with the idea, but his body was still healing and not quite ready for acrobatics. He was glad, because the last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself in front of this woman.

Calla was special. A lady. He would treat her as no less.

“These are wonderful. Have one?”

“I already ate three before I came, but what the heck?” She took a snickerdoodle and joined him. After a moment, she said, “There’s another reason I came besides giving you cookies. Tarron’s having a party next weekend and I’m hoping you’ll come as my guest.”

He hesitated. “As your date?”

“If you like. Provided you’re healed.” She shrugged, but something about her tone said his answer meant something to her. “And only if you want to.”

“What kind of party is it?”

“Sort of a gathering of European acquaintances of my brother’s. A boring, rubbing-elbows and ego-stroking event guaranteed to drive me mad, unless I have company.”

“Vampire acquaintances?” he asked, trying to make his voice as casual as possible.

“Mostly.”