Page 32 of Witches Be Damned

I wanted to remove my uniform and change into the sweatpants and exercise sweaters.

“Come on, love.” Gable tugged Luna away. “Let’s leave them to it. They have a lot to catch up on.”

Oh no. Our visit was almost as short as our phone conversations. I longed for the days when I could spend half a day or more lounging with her, sharing girl talk.

“See you, bestie.” Luna swept me into her arms and crushed me. “Raze has my number if you want me to bring more goodies over.”

I showed her my appreciation with a fierce hug in return. “I will.”

Luna let me go and embraced Raze. “See you, big guy. Don’t forget we have a mission next week.”

“I won’t.” My wolf squeezed her back, then stepped back, shaking Gable’s hand. “Thanks for the wards, warlock.”

“Any friend of my princess is a friend to me.” Gable bowed again, smirked, took Luna’s hand, and led her out the door.

When they left, my heart pinched, instantly missing her.

Raze carried me and my cookies back to the sofa, nestling me between his massive thighs and leaning me against his sturdy chest.

“You’re not going to throw these in the bin, are you?” I asked, ripping the packet open to get to the sweet prize. “I know how much you hate sugar.”

“No. Eat until your heart’s content, Little Wolf.” Aww. My wolf was allowing it to cheer me up or spoiling me since we hadn’t seen each other in so long.

It felt nice to have a sense of home with Raze despite my heart stinging to have our entire pack with us. Soon, I told myself. How soon was a matter for fate to decide, and I hated that it was outside my control.

CHAPTER 11 - PASCAL

“Just one prick and then it’s over.” The doctor hovered a needle in my direction, and I jerked back.

A sharp percussion dominated the beat in my mind, the notes twisting into horror movie waterphones and tritones.

“No more needles.” My body hardened to steel, and my eyes crashed shut at the metal descending on my vein.

Yesterday, the medical team had to restrain me to inject bone healing serum and painkillers. The irony of goddamn tiny needles when I played with knives and other sharp weapons in training, and got scratched or worse on missions.

“Where’s Dr. Simmons?” I scrambled to the opposite side of the bed, not wanting this new doctor to touch me when I didn’t know him.

Dr. Simmons playedBeethoven’s Symphony Number 9and talked to me when he took my blood to soothe the maelstrom in my head.

“He’s not in today,” the stranger informed me. “His little girl is sick with a stomach bug.”

“Can’t this wait until he’s back?” Knoxe argued for me, squeezing my foot from the base of my gurney, prompting my eyes to snap open. “He feels more comfortable with Dr. Simmons.”

The doctor stabbed his needle into a vial of sedatives, drawing liquid into the syringe. “The warden wants to check his levels today.”

Blood taken weekly to monitor my morphing powers. I resented the invasion, being subject to these tests, and to wearing the bracelet to suppress my magick, when this connection was my only means to control my anxiety. Without my magick, I’d been forced to find new coping mechanisms, and maybe that a was a plus in a way.

“No more drugs.” I rolled on my side, and pain arced down my chest from the ribs the vampires broke. Thirty-two hours in, and the serum sealed the fractures and was on its way to reforging the bone. Give it another two days, and I’d be good enough for discharge and light duties.

Tor got in the physician’s way, blocking him with a hand to his chest, and a jerk of his head. “He said no drugs.”

The doctor abandoned the syringe on the portable bedside cart. Too close for comfort when in proximity to deploy if necessary.

“Can you put onBeethoven’s Symphony Number 9to relax him?” Knoxe had been to a few of my medical appointments as a support person and knew the drill.

“Yes, Beethoven, please.” The harmonies carried my mind away.

“We’ll get you Beethoven, buddy.” Tor eyed the doctor until he removed his cell, searched for music, and activated it.

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