Chapter 4
JESS
I sat by my grandfather’s bed in the hospital late that night, doodling on my sketchpad and chatting with him when he felt hearty enough to speak. The doctors had prescribed pain medication, which tired him out. He had a broken leg, a concussion, and some sort of unspecified internal injuries, but they’d assured me that he would probably survive this.
This.
The doctor Cade had told me about had found me in the emergency room. While Grandpa was being admitted, he’d taken me aside into a little conference room, where he’d revealed the critical information that Grandpa had neglected to tell me. His cancer was not in remission. It had never been in remission. He had lied to me.
Grandpa had always downplayed his bout with cancer. He probably hadn’t wanted to worry me. Or maybe he couldn’t face his own mortality yet.
I sure couldn’t face it. Ever since Dr. Cartwright had explained the situation, I’d felt as though I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs.
Cade’s shifter doc had been kind and empathetic, but his explanation of the situation had left no room for doubt. “So you’re telling me that he’s going to die?” I’d asked, dreading the answer.
“Pretty soon, yes. I’m so sorry. He’s already had treatment. Chemo, radiation. Unfortunately, by the time he was diagnosed, the cancer had already metastasized. The regimes we’ve tried were all unsuccessful.”
“I didn’t know. My God, if I’d known, I’d have come home months ago.”
“He refused to permit anyone in his family to be contacted. But he hasn’t been alone. Cade’s been with him a lot, and he’s had the support of other members of the pack as well.”
So Cade Derringer had known my grandfather was dying, but I hadn’t been informed? I must have looked on the verge of tears, because Dr. Cartwright added gently, “He didn’t want to worry you. He said something about you having troubles of your own?”
Yeah, I’d had some troubles. But I’d have come for Grandpa.
Years ago when my dad had died, I’d been so deeply mired in grief that my own mother hadn’t known what to do with me. Grandpa and Granma, who was gone now, had comforted and cared for me in the warm and loving way that had never come naturally to my mother.
I’d recovered with my grandparents’ care, and maybe I’d helped them too. My dad had been their only son.
Anyway, I owed Grandpa. Not that he would ever think of it that way, but I wanted to give him back some of the love he’d always given me. When I decided to return to Montana, I’d envisioned spending the next few years living with him as his age caught up with him. I’d figured I could help him out with chores around the ranch.
I was fortunate in that, as a graphic artist whose clients were all on the web, I could work from any location. And as a landscape painter, I’d looked forward to painting the magnificent mountains and plains of Montana. And the wildlife.
“How long does he have?” I’d asked Dr. Cartwright.
“Hard to predict, but I fear not very long. This accident will weaken him. His injuries from the wreck are not that severe, but I doubt he’ll bounce back the way a healthy person would.” He’d paused, and then added, “You should prepare yourself.”
Prepare myself. How could I possibly do that?
“Oh, Grandpa,” I stroked his elderly fingers where they lay quietly in my hand, “I wish you’d told me. And I wish you’d let me drive.”
“Thank the good Lord you weren’t hurt,” he said. “I would never have forgiven myself for that.”
“Heya,” said a gruff voice at the door. “How’s the race car driver?”
The biker, the alpha wolf, was still hanging around. He seemed to swagger as he entered the room. His steamy sexiness had excited me while I’d been clinging to his back with the Harley throbbing between my thighs, but now it annoyed me. He’d known about Grandpa. He’d been allowed to take care of him and I had not.
I could tell by the way he looked at me now, his eyes all taunty and his lips twisted up in a cocky smile, that he was remembering my bare-assed appearance. Jerk. Why was he here, anyway? Why was a former motorcycle gang bad boy acting so devoted to his eccentric elderly neighbor?
I didn't know what to make of Cade Derringer, whom I still remembered as a hellion and a fuckup.
When he’d been a senior in Whittier High, I’d had been starting junior high. Everybody knew the Derringer family. Cade’s father had been the alpha.
My own parents hadn’t been too involved with the pack in those days, maybe because my mother was, like me, a multiform shifter. It was something we didn’t talk about. I guess my parents had hoped I’d take after my father instead of my mum.
But I’d certainly been aware of Cade, the rebellious hell-raiser with the killer grin, who was continually in trouble. The other girls my age had all been hot for him. I hadn’t been immune. I’d dreamed and fantasized about him.
On a couple of occasions, I’d summoned up the courage to talk to him. He’d never paid much attention, beyond bestowing his melting smile on me and tugging at my braids when he passed me on the street.
Now his father and older brother were both dead, and Cade had somehow grown into the role of pack leader. I wondered if he was any good at the job, or if he was still the careless risk-taker he’d been as a teenager.
“Cade!” my grandfather said as soon as he saw the man crossing the threshold. His wan face shone with a grin and he tried to push himself up on his elbows. “Good to see you, my friend.”
Cade leaned over the bed and gripped Grandpa’s hand. I could see that there was affection on both sides. Grandpa was pleased as punch, but Cade seemed dismayed by the sight of the pale, weakened man straining to look perky.
He wasn't perky, though. His face was gray, his eyes were sunken, and his fingers shook as they toyed fretfully with the coverlet.
“You crazy devil,” Cade said in that razzing tone males often used with one another. “What were you doing driving? Stubborn old coot. You coulda killed me and your gorgeous granddaughter.”
Grandpa beamed as if he were being praised. “She is gorgeous, isn’t she?” He nodded to me and then to Cade. “She tells me you got me to the hospital? Took care of me? Much obliged. Why they insist on keeping me here, though, I don’t rightly know. Let’s get that doctor friend of yours to break me out. I want to go home.”
“You’re not going anywhere until you get a little better. I talked to the doc and he says you’re staying put for now.”
I rose from my chair. “You can sit here for a while. Please don’t tire him out.”
Cade turned to me and gave me his devastating lady-catcher smile. To my chagrin, it worked. Sparks fizzled through me as his blue gaze seemed to sear my clothing off. Down between my legs, tiny muscles throbbed.
“I’m good standing.”
He was good in any position.
“Please, I need a little stretch, anyhow.”
We switched places and he made sure to brush the side of my breast with his arm as we did so.
“She’s been taking such good care of me, Cade,” Grandpa said, smiling at me. “I’m blessed to have such a devoted granddaughter. She’s a talented artist, too. She’s been drawing me and the nurses and the docs, and she even did a lovely drawing of my sweet Annie, God rest her. Show him, Jess.”
“Yeah, show me, Jess,” Derringer said with a wicked intonation and an equally wicked gleam in his eye. He held out his hand for the sketchpad. I didn't want to give it to him, but Grandpa looked so eager that I acquiesced. When Cade flipped through the pages, making polite murmurings, Grandpa watched him and beamed.
“Will you be here for a few? I need to run down to the cafeteria to get a coffee, but I don’t want to leave him alone.”
“Sure, I can stay. Anything you need, babe.” The way he emphasized the word “need” and the look on his face as he said it made it sound as if he was offering every dark variety of pleasure.
Asshole. “Want me to bring you back a cup of coffee?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
“Bring me back some whiskey, girl,” my grandfather said hoarsely after me as I headed for the door. He and Cade both laughed.
When I returned to the room fifteen minutes later, Grandpa was dozing and Cade was lounging in the chair beside him, his long legs stretched out. He looked as though he might be snatching a nap himself.
His eyes rolled open as I crossed the threshold. They were an intense electric blue.
He stood and ambled over to me. “He fell asleep. Would you like to go home, get some rest? You can come back in the morning. They sedated him, so he won't even know you’re gone. I can offer you a ride.”
Yeah, I’ll bet. A ride on his dick, probably.
But I flashed for a moment to the feeling of sitting astride his motorcycle, my body plastered to his firm back.
No. That would not be smart. Anyway, how could I have such a thought when Grandpa was so ill? “Thanks, but they said I could stay. I want to be here when he wakes up.”
“You were in the crash too. A little sleep might be just the thing.”
I knew he was trying to be kind, but I felt prickly and vulnerable. “I’m fine. I appreciate the offer. But I’m staying.”
I expected him to leave, then. Why would he hang around? I wasn’t being nice to him and his dear friend Tom was floating on sedatives.
But Derringer made it clear that he wasn’t in any hurry to take off. He stood at the foot of Grandpa’s bed, watching him silently and not making any further attempt to chat me up. I could feel him staring at me, though.
I avoided his eyes and did some sketching. But I had the sense that he’d bound me with invisible cord and was waiting to reel me in. It was eerie and unaccountable. Some kind of chemistry, I guess.
My wolf felt it, too. She wanted to meet his wolf. Frolic with him. My wolf had even less sense about these things than I did.
My darkling self wanted out, too. She always wanted out. It was a constant struggle between us—I kept her damped down and hidden and she schemed to escape and wreak havoc in the world. Since I knew all too well what a disaster that would be, I blocked her as best I could.
Except when instinct took over, as it had at the moment of the accident. At times like that, my darkling demon ruled me. I hated that.
The truth was, I had a bit of a problem accepting myself. Who and what I was. A darkling shifter. One of the few alive on earth. A killer. An avenger, as my cousin Cam would say. If someone tried to harm me or anyone I loved, I would be their worst nightmare.
I’d convinced myself that my powers were stronger in Scotland, where my family originated. In the Highlands, where mystical powers for many shifters were enhanced, I shivered with bursts of both light and dark energy. Here, far away in Montana, I felt calmer and more in control.
Well, until now.
Now my darkling self had pushed up, nearer the surface. I shuddered to think what might happen if she gained the upper hand.