"Do either of you have a plan?" I asked, opening the door.
"No," Paul said. "But I'll think of one. Walk slowly. Try to get the lighter out of his hand."
I did as he asked, moving at a snail's pace. Maybe Riley had gotten a hold of Nash. Maybe he was on his way. Even if he was, the station was near the entrance to pack lands, and the fire was clear on the other side. Driving would take time. "You mentioned you have a daughter. Nash said she died. Do you want to talk about her?"
"And help you stall while your friends think of a plan? No thank you. We'll have time to talk about her. Time to meet her."
I frowned, slowing my steps when we were only a few feet apart. "But Nash said she died. How did that happen?"
I was almost certain I saw Branson move. The drug Charles had used to knock them out was wearing off. Likely faster than he'd expected it to.
"She got sick," Charles said, shaking his head. "She just needs the right medicine. You, Phineas. I knew when I saw what you did that you could heal me—teach me how to heal her. I just needed to watch closely enough, figure out your tricks."
My heart broke for a man desperate to do anything to save his daughter. But that man was also endangering people I'd come to love. "I'm sorry she was sick. I really am. But, if you would've just asked me, Charles, I could've told you my abilities don't work on illness. Only injury. I can't heal the sick, even if I want to."
Charles shook his head over and over, reminding me of a child throwing a tantrum. "No. That's not true. I've seen what you can do. I will take you to her, and you will heal her. Plain as that, Phin."
Inside the car, I'd been terrified. Now, I was still scared, but Charles was clearly a sick man. A sick, sad man. I was sorry for the misunderstanding and angry for all those people needlessly hurt, but I wasn't terrified.
Charles might have thought he knew who I was and what I could do, but he had no idea.
"It is true. It's sad what happened to your daughter, but she's dead. Nash said she died years ago. I can't bring that back, Charles. I can't heal death. Please, just let us have Wyatt and Branson. You can go and mourn like you should have years ago."
"Don't tell me how to care for my daughter!" Charles roared. "Do you think I just kept an eye on you and chatted with you? I broke into your computer the moment I taught myself how. If you're logged into GeekGab and are at your laptop, I can hear you, Phin. Hear every disgusting thing you've done."
That wasn't a pleasant thought. He'd been listening to me? No wonder he'd gotten so angry those nights I'd disappeared at Nash's. Did that mean he knew about shifters? I couldn't remember if that had been something we'd talked about with the laptop open. Still, none of that bothered me enough to mention. Only one thing did. "Disgusting? Charles, I thought you were my friend. You should be happy I found the love of my life." In the distance, a wolf howled, and my heart leapt.
Charles acted like he hadn't heard it. "Then it's good what they say, right? Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Let's go. Time's up for your pals." He stuck out his hand, and when I didn't immediately grab it, he raised his lighter, clicking the flame on.
Behind him, Wyatt stirred. His eyelids fluttered.
I'd been forming a plan. Somehow, I was supposed to roll forward, kick his legs out from under him, and catch the lighter as it flung from his hand. But, as he taunted me with the small flame, I felt something stirring deep within me.
Nash had told me that my wolf wouldn't always be so in tune with my own thoughts, that sometimes our wants would differ. I wasn't sure this was one of those moments because the second my wolf let it be known what he wished we could do, I wanted to do it too.
I lunged, shifting midair with my mouth open. I'd been aiming for Charles's fingers, but I wasn't quite so coordinated, and my teeth found his wrist. I bit down, tasting blood. More importantly, he dropped the lighter.
I released my jaw, shifting again as I fell from him, catching the lighter before it hit the ground. As my shoulder slammed into the concrete, I groaned, rolling to my feet. I held the lighter over my head, stunned that I'd done all of that. I pumped my fist in the air. "I'm a fucking superhero!"
That was about the time my excitement faded, and I remembered Charles was there, insane and angry. And, if the shock and revulsion in his face was any indication, he had not known we were all shifters. He held his bleeding wrist toward his body and reached for something at his waist. "You aren't an angel at all," he muttered, having reached max-insanity levels. "You're a demon. You're all demons." He raised his other hand, showing me the gun he'd pulled from his waistband.
Some superhero I was. I hadn't even noticed he was otherwise armed. I'd been hyperfocused on the lighter.
As he raised it toward me, headlights shone over his face. Paul revved forward, and Charles swung his arm around to the oncoming vehicle, firing twice before jumping out of the way of Paul's Honda.
I yelled for Paul to stop right before he rammed into Wyatt, who blinked rapidly at the sudden growing headlights. He and Branson both looked like they were coming to.
"Where did he go?" Julie yelled.
Charles had dived in the other direction, around to the outside of the station bay doors. Paul shot out of the car, waiting for his feet to be on the ground before he shifted as Julie and I went to Branson and Wyatt.
We'd gotten them nearly untied when Wyatt flexed his arms, straining as he stretched the rest of the restraints until they snapped. Branson did the same, and they helped each other to their feet. The rohypnol Charles had given them made them wobbly, and I helped Branson to the car as Julie led Wyatt.
"What are you doing here, Mom?" Wyatt asked, but in his stunned, drugged state, he didn't sound angry. He sounded almost like a kid.
"Making sure you're safe. Like I should have done," she said back. She was a small woman, and Wyatt was really leaning on her. He seemed to notice this and tried pulling his weight up. "Don't. You're still shaky. I don't want you to fall."
He nodded, accepting that his mother would help him whether he wanted her to or not.
I'd gotten Branson in the car about the time Paul came back. "I lost him. The gas smell is masking everything. He's in the area. I just don't know where."
That was certainly troubling, but it didn't have to be if we got out of here quick. I'd been about to get back in when I heard branches snapping. Someone or something ran at us at full force. I turned to see Nash break through the trees at the other side of the road. Our eyes met, and relief washed over me. I wasn't sure when I'd left home that I would ever see him again. But Riley had gotten through to him, and he'd rushed over. I spotted Aver behind him, catching up.
I ran to my alpha. I didn't feel like I had any other choice. Paul yelled for me to stop, his engine rumbling loudly. He must have been driving toward us. I ignored him, blocking out everything that wasn't my alpha. His shirt was torn along the bottom, and he had soot over his face. I wanted him to hold me and tell me what had happened, and when he was done, I'd do the same, and we'd both be safe and back in each other's arms. He'd look down at me with a face of love, not with the fear that flashed in his gaze now.