Two men came from the kitchen, smirking evilly at him. “We’re here for Nester, so I guess you’re just collateral damage,” the one with a patch over his left eye said.
“Stop talking and finish him off,” the other, oversized, man said. “I’ll go find our target.”
Pyke snarled, rolling to his side. Eyepatch shot him again, in the gut. Pyke shouted, the pain almost too much to bear as he still tried to get up. He had to save his mate.
Pyke’s heart gave out when he saw Nester racing down the hallway. He dropped, skidding on the hardwood floors like he was sliding into home base at a baseball game, ducking under the pudgy man, who tried to grab him.
“No!” Pyke gritted his teeth, the pain shooting through his chest.
Nester grabbed Pyke’s gun, aimed, and fired repeatedly. Pyke wasn’t even sure Nester was hitting his target, until the burly man dropped. Nester spun, firing at Eyepatch, who ran for the door and was gone.
Nester dropped to his knees, his hand hovering over Pyke. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No need.” Pyke hissed. “I just need to shift to heal. Call the sheriff before I pass out.”
“But you’re losing a lot of blood!” Nester set the gun on the floor next to him. “Shift, damn it!”
“Call Copache. Now, Rambo.” Despite his injuries, Pyke grinned. “You didn’t tell me you could shoot.”
“That’s because I didn’t know I could.” Nester got up, ran down the hallway, and returned with his phone. “See, I’m calling. Now shift.” Nester squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t believe I murdered another guy.”
“Again, self-defense.” Pyke panted, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold onto consciousness much longer.
“I don’t know the sheriff’s personal number.” Nester looked at him as if Pyke knew it by heart.
“Get my phone from the room. He’s listed under Grayson.” Oh fuck. Pyke’s stomach felt as if it had been hit by a sledgehammer that had been on fire. “Hurry.”
Nester returned a moment later, and Pyke used his thumb to unlock his phone.
“Sheriff Copache? This is Nester. There was a shootout at Pyke’s house. Intruders. One guy dead. I need you here right away. Oh, and Pyke is gonna be a bear, so don’t bring anyone who isn’t supposed to see that.”
Could Pyke have asked for a better mate? He was proud that Nester knew to warn Grayson, though the guys on the police force were either nonhuman or knew about them.
“Okay, I did what you asked,” Nester set Pyke’s phone aside. “Now you do as I asked. Shift, Pyke. There’s so much blood.”
Tears welled in Nester’s eyes, and as much as Pyke wanted to reassure him, his energy was slipping. He closed his eyes but not before grabbing Nester’s hand.
“Don’t go anywhere. Do you understand me? And ask Grayson to have someone here while I heal.”
There was more Pyke wanted to say, but he slipped into darkness.
* * * *
Nester knew this was all his fault. He’d brought trouble to Pyke’s doorstep, and now his mate was shot…twice. Nester backed away when Pyke’s bear emerged but was still worried by the bear’s labored breathing.
What if shifting didn’t fix him? What if Pyke died? Nester jumped to his feet and paced in front of the window, for once praying the cops got there quickly.
Oh hell. What if the sheriff decided to throw the book at him? Nester had already been cleared of one murder, and now he had another one on his hands.
None of that mattered to him as he looked over his shoulder and stared at the large bear. He walked over to him, lowering himself as he tucked his legs beneath him. Pyke’s fur looked so soft that Nester had to touch it, to caress him, and to also make sure he was breathing.
Relief overwhelmed Nester when he felt the rise and fall of the bear’s chest, moving up and down as his breath came out fast and low. Was that normal? Nester had no idea, but now he didn’t want to leave his mate’s side, worried something might go wrong.
The fur was soft as Nester glided his hand through it. Pyke’s bear was humungous. Nester felt like a snack next to him, like Pyke would wake up and gobble him whole just for being a shit and bringing this chaos to his doorstep.
“I’m so sorry,” Nester whispered as hot tears stung his eyes. “I never meant for this to happen to you.”
His throat grew tight, and he felt like he’d lose it if Pyke didn’t pull through. Pyke was a good man, a decent guy, far more than Nester deserved, and he prayed his mate forgave him.
Now Nester wished his dad was still alive, because he needed so desperately to talk to him, to have his dad help him figure all this out. Nester was still puzzled about his mother talking to Dublin in the gas station, and he wanted answers, but they would have to wait.
Right now Nester wanted Pyke to get better and for the dead guy to be removed. He felt the intruder at his back, as if the guy would rise at any moment and make him pay for killing him.
It messed with the mind, knowing there was a dead body not ten feet away, and Nester was too afraid to look, too afraid to see his handiwork, because he feared what he’d become.
Like killing had become way too easy for him now.
His thoughts were interrupted when the doorbell rang. Nester wiped at his eyes, and gave the bear a hug before getting to his feet, walking to the door as if he were walking to his doom.
At the last second, Nester decided to look out the window. It was Sheriff Copache in his brown uniform, looking official as he stood there waiting for Nester to answer.
And Nester did. He opened the door, but said nothing about the body. There was only one thing on his mind. “Please tell me Pyke will live.”
Then the floodgates opened, and Nester burst out crying.
Chapter Nine
“Two shots to the torso,” Sheriff Grayson said into his shoulder mic. “One perp down and the other fled the scene.”
“He had an eyepatch.” Nester touched his right eye, ignoring the wetness from his tears. “If that helps.”
The sheriff gave him a warm, pleasant smile. “Every little detail helps, son.” He repeated what Nester said into his mic.
“I don’t mean to be insensitive, but could we get the dead body out of here? I’m already freaked out enough without having to look at what I’ve done.”
“Coroner is on his way,” the sheriff said. “And some of my men are en route. We’re going to keep an eye on things until Pyke recovers.”
Nester looked over his shoulder at his sleeping bear. Pyke’s breathing had finally evened out, and the sheriff had reassured him that Pyke would recover, regardless of Nester’s fears.
“We need to get the perp’s fingerprints,” Sheriff Copache went on, as Nester’s gaze kept sweeping toward the dead body. “We need to see if he’s in the system, and if he is, we can identify him. Hopefully that ties him to Dublin McLeay, helping to hammer another nail in the son of a bitch’s coffin.”
Nester only half heard what Copache was saying. His gaze bounced between the hefty man and the bear. He still couldn’t believe he’d jumped into action, no thought to his own safety. All he knew was that Pyke was in trouble, and if Nester hadn’t risked his own life, his mate would have been killed.