Chapter Four

Joe couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d watched the Doc for years, even before he realized they were mates and knew he was an intensely private and very proud man. There was never any scenario in Joe’s head that had Doc on his knees in front of him, not even in those dreams. In his head, their positions were always the other way around. The Doc standing above him, feeding his cock into Joe’s eager mouth. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, get up. There’s no way that you should…” he waved his hand at Doc’s knees. “That’s not right.”

“Joe, mate, it’s something I would’ve done a long time ago if I wasn’t so proud and stupid. Please believe me, I had a lot of good reasons for turning you away, but, fuck, all I can think when I go through them now, is just how idiotic I’ve been and how much time I’ve wasted for both of us.”

If he’d been in his right mind, Joe would’ve protested. He would have demanded to know what all those reasons were and why they were so important. And in time, if Doc was still around, they would have that conversation. But for now, his skin felt clammy and waves of heat were passing through his body. Touching the gash in his side, all he could say was, “please.”

Doc was on his feet in an instant. “Come over to the couch,” he said softly. “You’ll be more comfortable there.” Joe felt his arm maneuvered over Doc’s shoulder, which was surprisingly broad, as the man helped him stand. Black spots appeared in front of his eyes and Joe clung harder as he felt rather than saw Doc moving him into his sparse but tidy living room. His couch was the one big solid piece of furniture he had in there, and he sank into it gratefully, not sure his legs would hold him anymore.

“Lie down, swing your feet up, that’s right.” Doc’s voice was comforting rather than professional, and Joe let his eyes close as he did as he was told. “Put your arm up here, that’s right. Stay on your side as much as possible.” Joe felt his head cupped gently as a pillow found its way underneath his cheek. Taking deep breaths, Joe let Doc’s scent of ginger and something that reminded him of succulents, fill his nostrils, filling him with a sense of peace he’d never had.

/~/~/~/~/

Doc was livid, even as he let his professional side take over. This close, he could tell some type of narcoleptic had been used. But not just any kind. This was the worst kind of witchcraft, the one designed to kill a shifter no matter how many times he shifted. Joe didn’t realize it, but he was lucky he hadn’t shifted more than once. While no one knew the magic behind a shifter’s ability to morph into their animal form, spells targeting shifters inevitably worsened a condition the more often an individual changed forms.

Working quickly, with a brand new scalpel, just now removed from its sterile packaging, Doc sliced through Joe’s remarkably neat stitches and the skin beneath. It was only thanks to years of practice that he didn’t gag at the stench and sight of dark yellow puss tinged with black that flowed from his cut. Grabbing a handful of sterile swabs, Doc held them in place with his thumbs as he used his palms to gently press down on either side of the long gash.

Joe moaned, but apart from a tremor running through his outstretched arm, he didn’t move. Refusing to acknowledge just how sexy his mate looked stretched out on the couch, Doc pushed on, replacing the swabs every time they became overwhelmed with the gunk coming from his mate’s body.

Slowly, but surely, the red swelling receded and eventually, there was nothing further Doc could squeeze out. But the lack of blood flowing from the cut confirmed Doc’s suspicions. The narcoleptic still had hold, deep in the wound. His only two options were to surgically remove all the skin and muscle surrounding the gash, or…. Fight a spell with a spell.

Swiping the wound clean one last time, Doc quickly checked Joe’s vitals. Unbelievably, his mate was asleep, his vitals too regular to indicate any unconsciousness. The sweats had disappeared too, but Doc knew it would only be a matter of time before Joe would be suffering again. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Rubbing his hands thoroughly with some clean sterile swabs, Doc fished in his pocket for his phone. Holding it in his palm, he hesitated. Joe was in a precarious state, physically and mentally. He might not appreciate visitors. Laying his hand over Joe’s smooth cheek, Doc said softly, “Joe. Joe. I need you to wake up.”

Joe’s eyelids fluttered and finally opened. “Did you fix it?”

“As much as I can for now,” Doc said. “The poison is a spell, still deep in the wound. What I’ve done will only bring you temporary relief.”

“It’s okay,” Joe whispered as his eyes closed. “Just let me hold your hand and I’ll die happy.”

“You’re not going to die,” Doc said as he picked up Joe’s hand and held it anyway. “I need to call someone in to help. Do you know Seth, Ra’s mate?”

“The bunny Fae. Yeah. I know him. Your hand feels as good as I dreamed it would.”

The way Joe’s hand slackened in his let Doc know his mate was asleep again. He didn’t say no, Doc reasoned with himself, punching out the number he remembered from when Seth was pregnant. Not many people knew Seth actually died giving birth. But Doc was there. He saw the miraculous recovery the bunny made thanks to his full Fae daughter, Annabelle.

“Ra,” he said when his call was answered. “It’s Doc Farriday. I need your help….”

/~/~/~/~/

Joe could hear voices. A deep growl, a softer, sweeter voice and Doc. Doc’s still here. Pushing against the darkness around him, Joe struggled to open his eyes. His eyelids felt as though they were glued shut. He managed to get them open just as he heard Doc say, “You can’t use magic on him without his permission. I won’t allow it.”

“Why did you call us over here in the middle of the night, then?” Ra, or Mayor King as he was now formally known, was standing in Joe’s living room, with Seth tucked under his arm.

“I didn’t know Seth was going to have to touch him. I thought he could just wave his hands over him or something.” Doc turned and noticed Joe was awake. Joe tried to sit up, but a quick shake of Doc’s head stopped him.

“It’s all beside the point now anyway,” Seth said with a grin. “Hi Deputy Joe, I hear you’re a bit of a hero around town. We can’t go anywhere without someone mentioning your name and there’s been three applications to the Mayor’s office so far, recommending you for a commendation. Well done.”

“You do know I killed someone, right.” Joe had to sit up. The mayor was in his living room. “There’s nothing heroic about that.” He could swing his legs around, but his upper body wasn’t co-operating, and then Joe saw why. Doc was holding his shoulder. “Mayor. I would stand up, but….” He inhaled sharply. “I’ll understand if you want my resignation.”

“Firstly, there’s no need for you to call me mayor,” Ra said, his deep voice holding a hint of humor. “I was Ra when you stood up to that bastard Quincy and stopped him from arresting me when Seth was being hunted. It’s Ra now. And as for asking for your resignation – damn man, people want to put a statue of you on the main street. Do you have any idea how badly your uncle was hated by this town?”

Joe ducked his head. “Yeah, I have a pretty fair idea. I was related to him. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

“That’s because you have a good and decent soul,” Doc said fiercely. “I can think of ten other people who’d gladly have killed him and crowed about it afterward. And you’re forgetting, you saved Rocky with what you did. That guy is an act first, ask questions later type, but he’s good at his job and he’d be sorely missed.”

“So, no more talk of resigning, okay?” Seth said brightly. “We’ve got to get you back to work, and that means healing that crap Quincy’s infected you with. Do I have your permission to touch you, seeing as Doc is being so touchy about it?”

“Yes, I guess so.” Joe looked over his shoulder at Doc. “Will you be here?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Joe knew Doc was probably just overseeing his recovery, but his heart gave an extra thump, reading a promise that was likely imagined. Closing his eyes, Joe tensed as soft hands pressed against his torso. He wanted to ask Seth if he could mend a broken heart too, but he didn’t have it in him to explain why.