“I can’t. Shea, I can’t.”
It wasn’t fair. The first time had been an accident. He lost control and bit her and, while he regretted the lapse, what was done was done. And maybe he wanted to convince himself that the second time was an accident, too.
She had some of his blood. No denying that. Was it enough?
Shea turned to her mate. “If he won’t do it, you have to let me. I’m a healer, Colton. Please.”
“I know. Alright. Hang on.” Colt took a deep breath, settling himself before he stepped toward Adam. Slowly, he held up his arms. “Okay, pal. Everything’s gonna be alright. Just give her to me.”
Whirling out his reach, Adam jumped and spun, landing in a defensive crouch more than ten feet away from Colt. Tabby’s head lolled before slamming into his chest. The rhythm of his heart kicked up, another burst of fury coursing through him at his careless treatment of her. Cradling her on his knee, he freed one hand, sliding it up to duck her head against him, securing her.
Warm blood heated his chilled skin, smearing against his forearm.
Give her to another man? Even a friend? Yeah. He couldn’t do that, either.
Colt approached him like he was a wild beast that might be provoked into attacking. Careful. Careful. Edging in on his tiptoes as he crossed the asphalt, his normally blue eyes icing over as his own beast came to the forefront. It wouldn’t come to that—at least Adam hoped it wouldn’t—but Colt was prepared to shift if Adam gave him reason to.
Still, he moved toward him. He held his arms out. “You can’t help her yourself, Adam. Let Shea. Give me the girl. You don’t want to let her die.”
That got through to him. Because what if she did die? He didn’t know what that witch hit her with, and even if he killed the vamp who dared bite her before he could hurt her too much, what if she did die? Adam already slipped her some blood once. Was it enough to trigger a turning?
Being turned into a Nightwalker was the worst thing that ever happened to him. He swore he would never put anyone else through the same fate. Especially Tabby.
Adam tipped her into Colt’s waiting arms.
As he raced her back to Shea, Adam snarled. He had the insane urge to go for Colt’s throat. The rational part of him knew that Colt was only bringing her to the healer, but the overwhelming possessiveness winding its way through him pushed him to incapacitate Colt in order to get Tabby back in his arms.
He had just enough control left to stop himself. Since he wasn’t sure how long it would hold out, he snapped through his aching fangs, “Someone hold me back.”
“You got it, Wright,” growled Wolfe.
With a nod toward the still very naked Travis, the two shifters surrounded him. His vamp instincts had him baring his fangs; his humanity forced him to fist his hands at his side, taking his claws out of the equation. He didn’t fight as Wolfe trapped both of Adam’s arms behind his back in an unbreakable hold. Travis threw his shoulder into it, wrapping his arms around Adam’s waist, keeping him locked in place.
Even that was almost not enough.
Wolfe used all of his brute strength to keep Adam manacled. Colt was smart. As soon as he laid Tabby out on the grass in front of Shea, he backed up and raced over to help contain Adam with only a warning to his mate not to overdo it.
A magenta glow tinged with purple enveloped Shea as she laid her palm over Tabby’s throat.
Time seemed to stop while Adam waited to see if the healing would take.
It wasn’t until Shea let out a soft sigh of relief, resting back on her heels and shooting a thumb’s up over to Adam, that he finally sagged in the shifters’ ironclad hold.
Tabby was going to be okay.
Shea stabilized his slayer.
Thanks to the witch’s potent healing ability, the twin points on Tabby’s throat closed right up; they didn’t even leave a scar. She didn’t wake up right away, but both Shea and Colt assured Adam that that happened sometimes when it was a particularly rough injury. Between the blast of purple power that slammed into Tabby, the shock of the Nightwalker’s bite, and the amount of healing energy that Shea poured into her, her body had simply shut down to recover.
He understood. Didn’t like it, but he understood.
All around them, the gore of broken bodies, severed heads, and blood created the night. The rancid smell of old blood and rotten meat had Adam breathing through his nose; not out of hunger, though, but because it churned his already uneasy stomach. He could only imagine how bad it was for the shifters and their super sensitive snouts.
Colt stood at Shea’s back, rubbing circles along her shoulder, gauging if she used one drop of healing energy more than she should have. Like a caged animal, Wolfe prowled back and forth, guarding his domain since he couldn’t reach for his own mate.
Travis was gone now, too.
Adam didn’t really give a shit—the jaguar fought well, but he was part of the Eastern Pack and basically a stranger to him—and he initially assumed that the shifter trotted off because the fight was over.