Page 23 of Nanny's Mate

Everything moved in surreal, slow motion. Mike galloped, leaping past the van with super-shifter agility, aiming to land on top of the wolf that appeared faster than the other. The second one spotted him as he soared through the misty air, their gray eyes wide with horror and surprise.

He was glad to see that. Their fate, in his mind, had already been sealed.

Beatriz stumbled to her feet, likely having had her head bashed against the brick wall behind her. When Mike connected with the faster wolf, the one who didn't see or hear him coming, he realized that she had also seen him.

He crushed the first wolf beneath the power of his weight. Bone crunched like weak twigs beneath him, but it did not kill the stranger. He winced and whimpered as Mike scrambled to stand between them and his beloved.

Mike bared his teeth at them, standing tall and snarling while he crept forward to close the gap between them. Neither of them was exactly the brightest bulb in the box, and the enforcer realized that early on. They went in for another attack, two at once, without formation or regard for their own well-being.

Mike took advantage of their foolishness. First, he smacked the one on the left, the one with the gray eyes that had marked his arrival. His claws sunk deep into their cheek, triggering a guttural yowl of pain. They staggered, and then the second one made their attempt.

The second one was far more focused but still reckless. He managed to charge Mike fast and hard, but it had very little effect. He was immune to a lot of pain due to the adrenaline surging through his body and the invisible shield of his commitment to Beatriz.

Mike swatted him away like a fly. He responded faster than the first wolf, spinning around with his mouth gaped wide. The enforcer caught him by the snout with his own mouth, thrashing the delicate cartilage until the victim could take no more.

He tore himself from Mike’s vise grip and slumped away. The other wolf did that, too … a woman, Mike started to surmise … and crawled pathetically into the open back doors of the delivery van.

The stronger One of the wolves shifted and slipped into the front seat frantically. He yanked on the ignition and slammed on the gas as the woman followed him into the van.

If it had been a battle between the three of them, Mike would have followed without question. But Beatriz was still unstable, struggling to stand, and she was his number one concern at all times. So he went to her the moment the van vanished out of his sight. As he approached, she fell to the ground, causing his heart to nearly burst out of his chest.

Those mother fuckers.

He shifted quickly back into his human form and fell to his knees, sure to bruise them from the collision with the concrete. As he laid a hand to find a pulse on her neck, he noticed a steady stream of ruby-colored blood leaking out from the back of her head. It was a tiny spot. But the way her honey eyes rolled back was frightening.

Mike held her head in his hands, and she slowly shifted back into her human form. Unaware she had removed her clothes before shifting, he figured her clothing had burst off her also, as she had likely shifted out of nowhere to protect herself. He stroked her cheeks. Her skin had gone pale as a ghost.

“I got you now,” he said.

He was beside himself with a sea of tumultuous emotions. Rage, fear, and sadness fused together as one, pushing him into action without a flinch of hesitation. Mike ran into the wine and tapas bar and found Nate, telling him quickly what had happened in the alleyway. Nate gave him a blanket, plus another for Beatriz, who was nearly out cold on the hard ground.

“I’m calling Barbara and Tristan,” Nate said. “They will get the shifter paramedics out here, pronto.”

Mike barely heard him. He was already racing back outside to wrap his mate in the blanket and cradle her in his arms. Her skin felt cold, so he pressed his palms against her skin, attempting to warm her.

He had never felt such sorrow in his entire life.

FOURTEEN

MIKE

The two villains had escaped, but Mike was barely paying any mind to that. He held Beatriz in his arms, stroking her hair, continuously making sure she was breathing. Nate retrieved an extra set of clothing from his office for him to change into while they all waited for the ambulance to arrive.

To say that Mike was afraid would be an understatement. Beatriz, while she was still breathing, sounded haggard, like a pipe stuffed with marbles rattled inside her chest. He kept his palm pressed on the back of her head, the cold sensation of the blood causing his own to freeze with despair.

“They’re coming,” Nate tried to reassure him, standing in the alleyway. “Tristan and Barbara know some of the best doctors in the community. She will be okay.”

Nate’s voice sounded garbled to Mike’s hazy perception. Mike was fixated on Beatriz, hyper-vigilant of every change in her withering form that he could detect. He was so focused that he barely noticed the stream of blue and red light casting itself over his and her skin.

“Sir, sir, please stand aside.”

Mike nearly barked at the man who was trying to tear Beatriz from his arms, dead set on removing his head from his shoulders. But then he realized it was the paramedic, and they were trying to get her onto the gurney and lift her into the ambulance.

“Yes, sorry, go, go,” he muttered.

Mike let the two men who looked like shifters scoop Beatriz's unconscious body from his arms. It was agony feeling his vacant arms, the frosty, harrowing consideration that they may never be filled again, nearly making him sick.

Nate helped him to his feet, which he would later be thankful for. They both stepped into the ambulance and rode along with the paramedics to the hospital, watching closely as her vitals were checked and her body was hooked up to various machines.

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