The two of them slink away leaving me to crawl up the side of the yacht, shifting back into my Awaker form along the way. Hopping over the edge instantly receives a gunshot welcome that, unfortunately for him, misses. A glare is twitched at the same time I creep closer, not intending to make this a long battle.
“You could’ve killed my Fated Mate.” I strip out of the torn jacket. “For that shit, I’m going to finish ripping you apart, limb from fucking limb, wolfhole.”
He waves the weapon around doing his best to steady it my direction. “I’ve got just enough bullets written with your name on them to stop that shit.”
His announcement is appreciated.
Knowing the gun contains the type that can block shifting all together informs me once he’s out of ammo, he’s truly out of time. The wolf doesn’t wait for more words to be said to fire off another round. Avoiding it isn’t difficult; however, the next three he shoots are not the same case. Speedy dodges are executed in back bends and side ducks that only stop when my head smashes into his torso. Clamoring noises from the gun hitting the dock are immediately followed by animal-like wails. With all of my weight crushing his chest, I take partial transformations of both my hands and feet. Dragon teeth are bared while ripping off the other arm. Snarls are let loose when my foot kicks back disconnecting one leg and then the other. He screeches and screams and shouts slurs as well as profanities in spite of the gurgling he’s doing on his own blood.
You know if it weren’t for the fact he’s a fucked up, disrespectful, sexual predator, who hoped to kill my female, I’d be impressed over his refusal to die silently.
Relocating one of my claws over to his mouth, I pry it open, scrape out his tongue, and shove it back inside to suppress any more noises he intends to make.
Musky scents waft through the air signaling death has taken him, yet I’m still not placated.
Something tells me I won’t be until we’re all off this fucking ship.
Until we’re all safely back home.
Until I’m in bed or on my gold couch with a vinyl playing while I’m making my Fated Mate scream for a different reason.
“I’m fine,” I firmly insist from the couch cushion I’m parked on.
“You’re not,” A.D. bites back, arms folded over his damaged shirt.
“Am.”
“Not.”
“Am.”
“It’s like he’s mated to his fucking reflection.” P’s fingers curl around the back of the couch. “I don’t know if Fate did that shit for amusement or punishment.”
“Both,” A.D. grumbles as he gives his brother an irritated look. “Fucking. Both.”
“Let Dae figure out what’s wrong with Krystie first.” My insistence is followed by me casting aside the broken stilettos. “We can worry about me later.”
Dae shoots a cautious glance his direction waiting for more pushback. When he reluctantly surrenders on two puffs of shimmery smoke, she resumes her friendly bedside manner. “Okay then. Krystie it is.”
“She’s barely said a word since we’ve found her,” Karry informs the room. “And she hasn’t shifted. I keep asking and begging and fucking pleading, but she won’t.”
“Or perhaps she can’t,” Dae gingerly reminds while removing some sort of doctor tool from her medical bag. “Griff did say that prolonged use of whatever they were experimenting with could prevent it from happening.”
The words cause Karry to press her small bird lips together to suppress releasing a sob.
Dae sits down in a chair across from her patient and begins a simple examination of the mannequin-like female we rescued. Normal doctor tests I recognize occur first – checking of the eyes, ears, nose, and throat – before she moves on to listening to her wrist. Leaning her back and moving the tool along various parts of her body in search of something. Gene assists whenever requested – whether it’s grabbing a different tool from her bag or magically retrieving medical equipment she doesn’t have on hand. We collectively wait in silence, listening to her mutter facts and figures. Ask herself questions that she also answers. The whole process is mildly entertaining but also strangely informative.
When she’s finally finished, she not only releases a deep sigh, she toys with the end of her braid. “She’s barely responsive.” More twirling of the strands is done. “However, her basic vitals seem stable indicating she is alive and in theory, healthy, despite her zombie-like nature.”
Huh.
I wonder if there are zombies on this side of The Fog. Like I know it’s not the ideal time to ask, but I still kind of sort of want to.
Trepidation pierces Karry’s gaze alongside tears, encouraging me to keep my mouth shut.
“Now, I have an idea, but I still don’t know enough about shifters to be absolutely certain it’ll work.”
“What is it?” her Fated Mate asks from his position beside mine.
“An essence transfusion.”
Seeing every male go wide-eyed indicates that’s bad.
Or really fucking bad.
“It’s become rather easy for me to find the main source line – since it’s like the shit you’ve gotta be able to do day one in the program – but draining it to then transfer it to another living creature is a bit out of my wheelhouse. I mean I’ve done it with dogs a few times – regular dogs not shifters – but it’s not something I’m proficient at. And I don’t even know if it’ll work. Or if it does work like that on this side of everything given that nothing else really does. Seriously. Look at how pregnant I already am!”
That shit is hard not to notice.
“The only thing I do know,” Dae resumes the original topic, “is that your blood types aren’t what is examined for practices or medical procedures. It’s your shifter essence. Same creatures can only be used to help their same type. And those that come from the same lineage have the highest chance of success in said instances. Meaning the highest chance of that working is attached to you, Karry. The only better match than a sibling would be a parent, and I honestly can’t even be sure that we have that kind of time…or…,” her twirling turns frantic, “that it won’t somehow kill you both. And the likeliness of it killing you both is also something I’m not sure about. Shifters aren’t susceptible to the same types of infections as humans or non-magical creatures; however, you are very vulnerable to a whole bunch of other shit that I’m still working through textbooks about.”
No one else has time to respond before Karry is saying, “Let’s do it.”