Page 39 of Moonlighting with the Werewolf

Keeping one hand on the quivering wolf, I snagged a syringe and bit off the cap. “Either get yourself together or get out of my operating room.”

Sasquatch blew the air from his nostrils and swallowed. “What do you need me to do?”

“Hold him down. I’m going to give him a shot of Diazepam to try to stop the seizures.” After filling the syringe with the medication, I hesitated, afraid the medication might hinder his transformation. I hovered the sharp tip over a vein, debatingwhat would be worse in the long run. Brain damage versus being stuck in half-animal and half-human form.

Sometimes, you had to roll the dice.

Right as I was about to jam in the needle, Justin lunged at me, jaws open wide. I automatically dropped the syringe and flung my arms in front of my face for protection, wincing and bracing for the moment his fangs tore into my flesh.

One second, two, and then three ticked by.

I cracked open an eye to see Sasquatch holding the disfigured wolf by his underbelly and hind leg. Justin’s rancid breath wafted over me, the decaying scent of death so strong my eyes watered.

Before I could fully process being alive and whole, Justin convulsed again.

Sasquatch readjusted his grip as a human arm replaced one of the front wolf legs. Then he wrangled Justin onto the table and flung his body over the top of him, effectively pinning him in place.

Bones shifted once again, skin and fur stretching in a nightmarish blur. I watched in horror, halfway crouched in search of my syringe, as the creature on the table morphed into a naked male covered in a sheen of sweat.

Sasquatch straightened and gaped, showing the most emotion I’d seen from him thus far.

A forlorn moan pierced the tension-laced silence as Justin curled himself into the fetal position. Then a pair of weak, hazel-colored eyes lifted in my direction. “Thank you,” he wheezed. “Thank you for saving me.”

An unexpected lump rose in my throat. “You’re welcome.” Since the tussle had ripped out his IV, I gently tugged on his arm and secured the needle with new pieces of tape. Then I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me. What hurts?”

“Everything,” Justin said. “But I can feel myself healing.”

I glanced at Sasquatch, who was already moving toward the door. “I’ll call Conall and go wake up Sabine.”

Day number three at the compound was coming to a close, and I hadn’t seen Conall since drawing his blood and our kiss goodbye.

Monday evening, after all the excitement, Sasquatch had returned with Sabine, who’d burst into tears at the sight of her brother. She hadn’t totally abandoned the chip on her shoulder—after all, I’d “drugged her and forced her to sleep,” as she put it—but I had received a begrudging, “Thank you.”

Around ten p.m. that night, Sasquatch escorted me to my car, as stoic and laconic as ever. It was hard not to take the don’t-let-the-door-hit-you-on-the-way-out vibe personally. Particularly since it felt like most of the werewolveswantedthe door to hit me.

On Tuesday, I woke up to see Conall had sent me a text in the wee hours of the morning, thanking me for saving Justin’s life and caring for his injured pack members. Then he promised to make up for his absence as soon as he could.

That afternoon, after a long day at my clinic, I’d headed to the compound to check the other injured wolves for silver poisoning. None of them showed signs, and their vitals were stellar, which made it that much harder to pinpoint why they’d lost their accelerated healing abilities.

With Conall still MIA on Wednesday—my last couple of texts had gone unanswered as well—I broke down and asked where he’d gone, and if everything was okay.

“He’s out of range, pursuing a lead,” was all I was told. When I’d asked after Elias, I got a vague, “He’s currently unavailable.”

Fortunately, I managed to catch Gina before her shift at the bar. She didn’t know where Conall was, but she did chat with me for an hour and help distract me from his absence and lack of communication.

By Thursday evening’s checkup appointment, Justin had returned to full strength, so I told my disappointment over not seeing Conall to take a hike. We’d saved a life, and that was what mattered most. Moreover, we could use the newfound knowledge if anyone else got hit with an arrow.

After sending Justin off with a clean bill of health, I debated performing blood transfusions on the other injured werewolves.

See?I thought as I calculated needed liters of blood.I can make myself useful and keep busy, missing werewolf boyfriend or not.

Not that we’d had an official discussion about titles. But considering our whirlwind of intense interactions and experiments that ranged from medical to sexual, calling him the guy I was sorta seeing fell short.

The sound of the door opening interrupted my conversation, party of one, and I automatically turned to greet my incoming patient.

At the sight of Conall, happiness and relief crashed over me. I didn’t think about decorum or the fact that Nissa was by his side; I took a running start and flung my arms around his neck. “Thank God. I was starting to worry you’d been hurt.”

Conall squeezed me so tightly my feet left the ground and my breath puffed out over his shoulder. “You’d be the first to know if that was the case.”

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