In the Shadow of the Wolf 3 - Splintered Lies by RJ Scott, Diane Adams
Authors: RJ Scott, Diane Adams
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out thank yous like candy to the man who smelled of Nick's coppery blood. The rage and sorrow threatened to consume Joe, burning hot inside him. He felt little relief from his emotions at the news Nick would recover. Joe wasn't human and he'd fought back his full nature for too long. Doug placed himself between Joe and the doctor. He knew what was happening inside Joe. Joe didn't calm, but he maintained the outward illusion. He knew if worse came to worst Doug could take him down. He counted down from one hundred, desperate for the doctor to leave. He didn't want to hurt anyone, especially the wolf who'd saved Nick's life.
"Doc's gone," Doug said as he turned to face Joe. He caught Joe's shoulders in his hands, fingers digging deep, forcing Joe to acknowledge him. When their eyes met Doug nodded once, his eyes understanding. "You can go." He moved to the side so the doorway wasn't blocked.
"No. What?" Jamie rushed over to block Joe from the door. Joe struggled to keep control to maintain his human shape.
"Joe, you can't go. Please don't go. You told Rob you wouldn't," Jamie reminded him, eyes pleading. Jamie was so young, too young to understand. His soft words meant nothing to Joe, but he wouldn't hurt the pup and remained frozen in place.
"He can't stay, Jamie," Doug said.
Sam came and stood by Jamie, supporting him, urging him away from the door.
"Why?" Jamie asked.
"He's close to losing control," Sam explained.
"Then he needs help to get control. I don't understand. What is happening? Was he hurt at the house?" Jamie was peering around Doug who had placed himself as a barrier between Sam, Jamie, and Joe.
"Joe. Do you need help to get out of the hospital?" Doug asked. He sounded wary, understanding that any wolf Joe encountered at that point might instigate a confrontation.
Joe shook his head. He didn't want anyone else involved; the call of the open sky was too much now. He had to get out. Pulling out his cell, his wallet, and his weapon, he placed them carefully on the seat. Words caught in his throat and he couldn't speak them. He had so much he wanted to say but his need to shift and get away stopped him from being able to verbalize how he felt.
When Rob left, the only person in Joe's life who could exert the influence needed to keep him in his form had gone. Without him Joe had no hope of controlling his change.
"Tell Nick—sorry." And he ran.
The scent of anger and death and sorrow permeated every inch of the hospital and he shifted as soon as he reached fresh air. Clothes left in a heap, he lifted a snout to the sky and howled. Joe knew where he wanted to go and headed there at an easy lope. He felt less frantic and more in control. He had no idea when he'd be able to face changing back to a man. He couldn't make himself care. At least everyone around him would be safe.
Chapter 9
Nick pushed against the floor with one foot to keep the old rocking chair moving. A tiny baby lay cradled in one arm, the other hand held a copy of the journal written by the man who'd almost stolen Nick's life. Frowning at the pages covered in closely written lines, Nick closed the amateurish cardboard binding, and laid it aside. He didn't like how difficult hate became when knowledge and understanding were added into the situation. Hate was simple and more satisfactory. Cuddling the baby against his chest Nick leaned his head against the tall back of the rocker and dozed.
When Sam appeared a short time later and eased the baby out of Nick's arms he didn't protest. Placing a gentle kiss on her brow, Nick surrendered her into Sam's care. She was a sweet little girl, generous with her toothless grins, and rarely cried. Golden hair curled around her cherub face and big blue eyes watched Nick's every move with utter devotion. Of all her caregivers she appeared to love him best.
"You need to eat," Sam admonished Nick. Giving a slight half shrug Nick didn't argue. He did need to eat but lack of appetite made doing so a bland affair at best.
"Doc's gone," Doug said as he turned to face Joe. He caught Joe's shoulders in his hands, fingers digging deep, forcing Joe to acknowledge him. When their eyes met Doug nodded once, his eyes understanding. "You can go." He moved to the side so the doorway wasn't blocked.
"No. What?" Jamie rushed over to block Joe from the door. Joe struggled to keep control to maintain his human shape.
"Joe, you can't go. Please don't go. You told Rob you wouldn't," Jamie reminded him, eyes pleading. Jamie was so young, too young to understand. His soft words meant nothing to Joe, but he wouldn't hurt the pup and remained frozen in place.
"He can't stay, Jamie," Doug said.
Sam came and stood by Jamie, supporting him, urging him away from the door.
"Why?" Jamie asked.
"He's close to losing control," Sam explained.
"Then he needs help to get control. I don't understand. What is happening? Was he hurt at the house?" Jamie was peering around Doug who had placed himself as a barrier between Sam, Jamie, and Joe.
"Joe. Do you need help to get out of the hospital?" Doug asked. He sounded wary, understanding that any wolf Joe encountered at that point might instigate a confrontation.
Joe shook his head. He didn't want anyone else involved; the call of the open sky was too much now. He had to get out. Pulling out his cell, his wallet, and his weapon, he placed them carefully on the seat. Words caught in his throat and he couldn't speak them. He had so much he wanted to say but his need to shift and get away stopped him from being able to verbalize how he felt.
When Rob left, the only person in Joe's life who could exert the influence needed to keep him in his form had gone. Without him Joe had no hope of controlling his change.
"Tell Nick—sorry." And he ran.
The scent of anger and death and sorrow permeated every inch of the hospital and he shifted as soon as he reached fresh air. Clothes left in a heap, he lifted a snout to the sky and howled. Joe knew where he wanted to go and headed there at an easy lope. He felt less frantic and more in control. He had no idea when he'd be able to face changing back to a man. He couldn't make himself care. At least everyone around him would be safe.
Chapter 9
Nick pushed against the floor with one foot to keep the old rocking chair moving. A tiny baby lay cradled in one arm, the other hand held a copy of the journal written by the man who'd almost stolen Nick's life. Frowning at the pages covered in closely written lines, Nick closed the amateurish cardboard binding, and laid it aside. He didn't like how difficult hate became when knowledge and understanding were added into the situation. Hate was simple and more satisfactory. Cuddling the baby against his chest Nick leaned his head against the tall back of the rocker and dozed.
When Sam appeared a short time later and eased the baby out of Nick's arms he didn't protest. Placing a gentle kiss on her brow, Nick surrendered her into Sam's care. She was a sweet little girl, generous with her toothless grins, and rarely cried. Golden hair curled around her cherub face and big blue eyes watched Nick's every move with utter devotion. Of all her caregivers she appeared to love him best.
"You need to eat," Sam admonished Nick. Giving a slight half shrug Nick didn't argue. He did need to eat but lack of appetite made doing so a bland affair at best.
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