“Secret…”
“Look, I take spousal abuse as seriously as the next girl. But that shithead has a beating coming to him, and someday I’m going to see he gets it. You can’t stop me. Tonight I’ll play nice, though.”
“I suppose I can’t ask for miracles.” He placed his hands in Desmond’s fur, stroking it and scratching the wolf behind the ears. It was sweet, seeing him comfort his brother.
“I think we should keep our miracles where we need them.
”
The ride up to Lucas’s suite filled me with a mounting sense of dread. I’d come here so positive he’d be able to help, but what if he couldn’t? What if Desmond was stuck like this? I couldn’t imagine my life without him as part of it, but I hadn’t considered him being trapped in wolf form forever.
It would certainly simplify my love life.
I banished the thought, feeling infinitely guilty for letting it cross my mind in the first place.
The door slid open in the foyer, and Lucas stood waiting. He wore a soft gray V-neck sweater and a pair of well-worn jeans. About a week’s worth of stubble gave him the impression of a beard without the actual bulk of what he’d once grown. Had his eyes always been such a bright blue, or did his disapproving glare make them pop?
One thing that often bothered me was how beautiful he was. It didn’t matter how much I hated him or how bad I wanted to slap him, he was still gorgeous.
His cinnamon flavor filled my mouth like a Red Hot, reminding me that although my heart had checked out a long time ago, our metaphysical love match was still intact. So much for that being a one-time fluke.
I had to get away from him as quickly as I could. I hated putting myself in a position where I could get suckered in by his allure again. What was worse, I hated knowing he maintained any appeal for me, even if it was entirely primal.
If happiness were a pair of skinny jeans, Lucas was the pint of ice cream standing in my way.
“I thought after what happened in San Francisco I wouldn’t be—” He stopped short when Desmond followed me out of the elevator.
What I appreciated most about the wolves was their ability to recognize who Des truly was while trapped in his furry form.
“What’s going on?” Lucas looked from me to Dominick then back.
“Peyton.”
“That son of a—”
This time I cut him off. “He’s dead.”
“Oh.”
“But he managed to give Desmond a shot of something. He got it from The Doctor.”
“Oh.” Though Lucas hadn’t been around for the whole Doctor debacle, he’d heard enough about it from others to understand the gravitas of what had gone down.
At least as much as anyone who wasn’t present could understand it.
I was there for the whole thing, and I didn’t fully grasp it yet.
“There isn’t an antidote. I talked to Callum, and he seemed to think you might be able to reverse it with your big, bad wolf magic.”
“You spoke to Callum McQueen about a problem in my pack?” He sounded furious. Leave it to Lucas to miss the point altogether.
“Can you focus on one issue at a time?” I pointed to the wolf sitting next to me. “Desmond is stuck like this, and we need your help.”
For the first time since I’d arrived it crossed my mind Lucas might say no just to spite me and to stick it to Desmond. He’d made it abundantly clear he wasn’t impressed with our ongoing relationship, and it had caused a monumental rift in their friendship. I knew Lucas was capable of being petty, and he’d used Desmond as a bargaining chip against me more than once. But would he honestly let Des stay in wolf form just to prove a point to me?
I hated that I couldn’t dismiss such a fear as me being silly.
“Do you know what was in the shot?”