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Chapter Fifteen

Shane

Shane had never been to Hal’s cabin before. It was cozy, isolated in the middle of the forest but equipped with nearly everything anyone could want in a vacation cabin, from extra clothes in all sizes to a well-stocked freezer to a spare car parked beneath a tree. Since it belonged to Hal’s technophobic bear clan, it had no computer or even television, but did come with several cases of books. Shane supposed they were lucky to have the car. Hal told him that after he and Ellie had gotten stranded in the woods when they’d first met, he’d bought it for the cabin.

“I told my family it was in case of emergencies,” Hal told Shane in his rumbling voice. “But you and Catalina help yourselves if you want anything from town.”

Shane and Catalina enjoyed their stay. They played wild games in the forest, chasing each other through the tree-tops, sometimes as a panther and a leopard, sometimes as a big cat and a woman who climbed like one. Then they returned to the cabin to read and eat. Neither of them knew how to cook, unless you counted lobsters and MREs, so after a few days of charred disasters, they resorted to meals that Hal’s mom, grandma, and uncle had cooked and then frozen. Shane didn’t pay much attention to what he ate, but Catalina always happily remarked how much better it was than the packaged frozen meals she usually lived on.

The rest of the time they spent making love in the bed, which was just as sturdy as Ellie had promised. Also in the shower, on the sofa, on the floor, and in the forest. Shane hadn’t forgotten his promise to keep it exciting for Catalina, but whether they were having passionate sex up against a tree or sleepy lovemaking first thing in the morning, it was thrilling whether he made a special effort or not. Every moment, every kiss, every touch was as sexy and heart-stopping as their very first time. They couldn’t get enough of each other.

They’d been at the cabin for a week when Shane awoke from a deep sleep to the sound of stumbling footsteps, unmistakable as those of someone forcing themselves forward on willpower alone. He was out of bed and yanking the front door open before it even occurred to him that it could be an ambush.

Justin stood swaying in the doorway, one hand bracing himself against the frame, the other still upraised to knock. The sight of that familiar face with those strange near-black eyes and dark hair once again gave Shane a shock of unsettled recognition. Justin’s skin was white as bone in the moonlight.

?

??Comeback?” Justin’s voice was alarmingly weak. “I’m sick. I need help.”

“Any time, Red.” Shane put a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. “You don’t even need to ask.”

“I know.”

Shane caught him as he collapsed. Justin was burning up, his shirt and skin damp with sweat, but he was shaking as if he was chilled. The air rasped in and out of his lungs, each breath sounding like it required a tremendous effort.

Shane carried Justin into the living room, where he laid him down on the couch. Catalina was already there, waiting in pajamas with the medical kit in her hand, as bright and alert as if it was the middle of her workday. In fact, Shane recalled, under normal circumstances it would be.

Catalina knelt beside the couch to check Justin’s vital signs. Shane did too. Justin’s breathing was labored and shallow, and his pulse was weak and rapid. He didn’t respond to his name, or to a hard pinch on the back of his hand.

“He looks bad,” Catalina said. “Load and go?”

Shane’s chest tightened at her words. Justin did look bad. Non-responsive, signs of shock, high fever, respiratory distress... Every sign was critical, and no one knew better than Shane how easily even one of those could lead to cardiac arrest.

Justin’s a survivor, Shane told himself. He made it through the Pipeline. He’s a ten-year combat veteran. He survived ultimate predator. He survived two years with Apex. And he made it here, on foot, from God knows where. He’s not going to die on me now.

“Yeah,” Shane said. “You drive. If he wakes up disoriented, I’ve got a better chance at calming him down before his snow leopard takes over. We’ve had ten years’ worth of trusting each other with our lives. He might remember even if he’s delirious.”

And if Justin’s snow leopard did take over, Shane wanted himself between its claws and Catalina.

“I’ll get the keys,” she said. “And call Dr. Bedford to meet us in her office. We’ll be on the road in five.”

Shane was reassured by how calm and competent she was, not to mention willing to take off in the middle of the night and in her pajamas. She was not only his lover but his partner, someone he could trust absolutely and rely on to carry her own weight. She’d even carried his weight once. He was so lucky to have found her.

Justin’s eyelids began to flutter. Caught between sleep and waking, conscious enough to feel pain but not conscious enough to hide it, he moaned and turned his head back and forth as if he was trying vainly to escape from his own body. Shane remembered that relentless stabbing pain, as if his bones had been replaced by broken glass.

Lick his wounds, his panther advised.

Stop saying that, Shane replied silently. It’s gross.

He opened the medical kit and filled a syringe.

Justin moaned again, then opened his eyes. “What’s that?”

He sounded dazed, so Shane kept it simple. “For the pain.”

“I can stand it,” Justin said immediately. Shane suspected that he was stripped down to a PJ’s most basic instincts: show no weakness, find your friends, hunker down and endure.

“I know you can,” Shane said. “But you don’t have to.”


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