Home > Blackwing Wolf (Kane's Mountains #2)(4)

Blackwing Wolf (Kane's Mountains #2)(4)
Author: T.S. Joyce

Dustin ghosted her a glance in the mirror, then turned and presented her with the threaded needle. “Hurry.” His hands were shaking now too.

In a rush, Emma went to work on his neck. She hated the blood, but this part she was good at.

“You’ve done this before,” Dustin said, loud enough this time. He was probably trying to keep himself distracted from the sting of the needle.

“This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy.”

He flinched under her hand, so she moved closer and tried to be gentler when she pulled the torn skin together.

She talked to distract him. “I used to work nights at a hospital. I was thinking about being a nurse, or maybe a doctor, but changed my mind after a year working the front desk in the ER. I learned a lot though. There was a nice doctor that took me under her wing and showed me the ropes. She was like a mentor, and taught me a lot.” Emma shot Dustin a quick look and said carefully, “No claw marks.”

“What?”

She blew out a sigh and pressed another stich into his skin. “You don’t have any claw marks, so that rules out bears and big cats.”

“Stop it. Stop with the guessing. I’m not talking about it.”

“Fine, but I want to know what werewolves are doing in the area and why they nearly ripped your throat out, Dustin. This could’ve killed you.”

“Nothing can kill me. I’m invincible,” he said through a smirk.

“That’s not true. You know it and I know it. The A-Team was annihilated by Logan and Winter. People die, and tonight it could’ve been you.”

“You would’ve missed me, huh?”

She wanted to claw that grin off his face. It was a fake one. A forced one. It wasn’t real, and they’d been through enough during the Blackwing interview process that he didn’t have to hide real feelings with pretend bravado. When Emma jammed the needle into his neck, he snarled loud enough for her to hear this time. Fast as she could to distract his wolf from his aggression, Emma pulled the back of Dustin’s hair and leveled him with a look. “What’s going on, Dustin.”

He stood there frozen, glaring down at her with narrowed eyes. “Careful, Human. Some shit is too far over your head, and you shouldn’t get involved in things that don’t concern you.”

“You concern me.”

A look of shock drifted over his face, just for an instant, and then his smirk was back. “You wanna fuck now?”

She made a pissed-off tick sound behind her teeth and started sewing again. She would have to cut these stitches out tomorrow when his skin was cinched, but he needed these for tonight to stop the damn bleeding.

Suddenly Dustin went down hard. His legs just went out from under him, and he went to the floor. Emma tried to soften his fall, but she was scrawny, and Dustin was densely muscled.

Shit!” she yelled as she went down with him. He was white as a sheet, and his breathing came in shallow pants. A thin sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead, and his pupils were blown.

“Dustin?” she said, slapping his cheek gently.

“Don’t leave,” he slurred.

“I won’t. I won’t. I’m here. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. Go to sleep, and I’ll take care of you.”

“My brother.” He said it so softly she had to read his lips, but his words made no sense.

“What?”

Dustin swallowed hard and raised his voice just enough. “My brother did this.” He locked his bleary gaze with hers for just a few moments before his eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp on the tile floor.

Emma rushed to finish stitching him, but it was hard to see through her blurred vision. His brother tried to kill him? Emma couldn’t imagine Enrique or Lauren ever trying to hurt her, much less rip her apart like this. She’d been lucky with her adoptive family, but clearly, Dustin wasn’t as fortunate.

Emma cut off the extra suture, checked his pulse, which was slow but steady, then grabbed a clean washrag from the towel rack. She warmed the tap water, drenched the rag, and hesitated over his limp body. She’d never seen Dustin without a shirt on. He had angel wings tattooed on his chest. They were done well, too, perfectly symmetrical, and showed good skill from the tattoo artist. His sandy-blond hair was flipped to the side, and even in his sleep, his torso was so muscular his abs flexed with every breath. His jeans were spattered in dark spots, but they rode low on his hips, and a strip of red elastic sat right above the waist of his jeans. He had good taste in underwear, so there was that. She’d always been attracted to dark-headed men with dark eyes, but there was something masculine yet beautiful about Dustin. When he was passed out and near death, that was, because he had a mouth on him she wanted to claw off pretty damn often. And she was eighty-four percent sure he was a pervert.

She knelt beside him and cleaned his skin slowly, gently, so she wouldn’t re-open any of the newly healing bite marks on his ribs and chest. Dustin was so confident, so quick-witted, she’d assumed him invincible. Plus, she’d seen him fight in his human form before, the first day of interviews when the mob of shifters had surged toward Dark Kane. He’d gone into that fight beside Logan and Beast and hadn’t backed down an inch. She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him. She blamed those pretty bi-colored eyes of his. Or maybe the sexy, long hair or his sense of humor.

When his skin was clean of blood and she’d bandaged his neck, Emma dragged him by the feet to the bed. She huffed and puffed, trying to get him up onto the mattress, but it wasn’t happening. She worked out to keep up with her people, but Dustin was much bigger than her, and she didn’t want to hurt him even more. So instead she yanked the unmade blankets off his bed and created a pallet on the floor for him. A couple of log rolls later, and Dustin looked comfortable enough.

   
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