Claiming Their Mate(6)

By: Vella Day


“Yes.” An involuntary shudder sped through her body. The adrenaline was wearing off and had been replaced with shock and fear.

He lifted her wrists. When he lightly pressed on the skin, she jerked. “That’s tender, huh?”

“A little. The bastard knelt on my wrists to hold me down.” Her throat closed up, and she squeezed her eyes shut. The tears she’d held at bay dripped out.

“We’ll get an X-ray of both wrists. Expect the bruising to get worse before it gets better.”

Great. He handed her a tissue, and she wiped her eyes.

Dr. Deland lifted her shirt, but when she raised her arm, she groaned.

Drake stepped forward. “If you don’t mind lending us some scrubs, you can just cut the shirt off.”

“That would make it quicker.”

She was impressed with the easy relationship between these men. Because the doctor had this antidote, she guessed he was a shifter, too. She didn’t ask because, in part, she didn’t want confirmation.

Dr. Deland cut off not only the T-shirt, but also what remained of her torn shirt. “We can leave the bra on.”

“Thanks.” She’d be tossing it as soon as she got home. Little hope existed that she’d get all the blood out. Having it as a reminder wouldn’t be healthy either.

He cleaned the wounded area. The bleeding from the opening slowed down.

“How’s your stomach feeling?”

That was an odd question. “A bit nauseated, but my cheek hurts worse.” She bet her face would be totally black and blue by tomorrow. “At least, I don’t think that ass broke anything.” Her nose was sore, but he hadn’t loosened any of her teeth when he’d struck her.

“We’ll take an X-ray to be sure, but if you put some ice on it, the swelling will be minimized.” He turned to Drake. “Help her lay back. I want to numb the area before I stitch her up.” He stepped over to a cabinet and took out a needle and a vial.

Drake wrapped his arm around her and lowered her to the table. She had a high pain tolerance, but she’d never tested her level against bullet removal. The doctor’s comment about only stitching her up registered. “You’re going to leave the bullet in me?”

His smile came out gentle. “The bullet has already dissolved. The man who shot you used a special type of projectile. It acts like shrapnel except the small pieces dissolve into bits of poison. To a werewolf, they immobilize him immediately and make him very sick. Humans have an immunity, however, a higher tolerance to the poison.”

“I don’t feel very immune right now.” In fact, her stomach ached and she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

His second comment about werewolves registered. When her best friend told her Harvey Couch, the man who raped her mother, was one of them, Chelsea hadn’t really been a believer. She guessed she’d had her head in the sand too long if she didn’t even believe Liz when she’d told her about shifters.

Dr. Deland handed her a glass of water and a pill. “Drink this to counteract the poison. It should help settle your stomach, too.”

Not wanting to vomit all night, she did as he instructed and handed the glass back to him. “Thanks.”

“How’s your head?”

“It hurts.”

He looked at Drake. “Keep a watch on her. If she becomes nauseated, bring her to the emergency room. She might have a concussion from the blows to the head.”

Dear God in Heaven. Her stomach caved and her blood pressure skyrocketed. Here she believed this couldn’t get any worse.

“Now, I’m going to numb the area and stitch you up. You’ll be good as new in a few days.”

That brought some relief, although her face might need more than a couple of days to heal. “Then I can go home and back to work?”

“Yes.”

Her ordeal had been terrible, but knowing there would be no permanent effect helped soothe her. A knock sounded on the door, and Kurt stepped in.

“How is she?” He glanced between her and the doctor.

His concern amazed her. Here his brother had been brutally slain, and he’d taken the time to check on her.

“Give me a sec to suture her, and she’ll be ready to go home.”

Kurt’s expression hardened even more, if that was possible. “She’ll be coming with us. Her place isn’t secure.”

Her body stiffened. Perhaps her friend lucked out and enjoyed the time she spent being with her men after her life had been threatened, but Chelsea had a career with clients and houses to sell. She didn’t want to hole up in someone’s loft apartment and not see the light of day for weeks or months.

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