Page 45 of License to Kill

“You’ll get mold in your fur.”

I didn’t believe him for a moment, and I shot him a disapproving stare, flattened my ears, and jumped out of the tub. My leg ached, but I kept quiet instead of yipping. I nosed the bathroom door closed, lifted my head, and pulled at the bathrobe hanging from the hook.

“I suppose shifting would be one way to get dry. I’ll get you some clothes.” Jake squeezed by me.

I peeked out of the bathroom to discover his mother lurking in the hallway. With a startled yip, I retreated and crammed myself between the toilet and the sink.

“Whatever you’re doing, Mom, stop it,” Jake bellowed.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Standing menacingly in the doorway counts as doing something.”

“I’m standing in the hallway, and I’m not doing anything menacing.”

“Can she get around you without touching you?”

“Don’t you get mouthy with me, puppy.”

“While she’s shifting, will you please go get the first aid kit? Unless a lot has changed, she doesn’t heal like we do when we shift, and I’d rather her not lose any more blood.”

Jake’s mother sighed. “Very well.”

“Thank you.”

Jake returned, carrying one of my tank tops and a pair of my pajama bottoms. “I figured you wouldn’t want to ruin the top bleeding all over it.”

I emerged from my hiding place, grabbed the clothes from his hands, and retreated to the other end of the bathroom. “I’ll be in the hallway if you need me.” Sighing, Jake headed out, closing the door behind him.

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t need anyone ever again.

While the bleeding had stopped as a fox, when I shifted to human, the punctures reopened, and the pain was intense enough I curled in a ball and whimpered, which summoned Jake. He took one look at my arm, hissed, and knelt beside me.

“Let me see it.”

Moving hurt, and I squeezed my eyes shut and shuddered, but showed him where his mother had bitten me during our fight.

“She didn’t hold back at all. Damn it. These are going to need stitches.” Jake spat curses, and he placed gauze to the wounds and wrapped them. “I’ll get Dad to do it; he’s had the most practice. I’ll clean up the mess, so just give me a minute.”

With the bites covered, I could operate enough to dress while he mopped the blood of the tiles with one of his mother’s white towels—the good ones she put out when she expected company. I almost smiled at how much effort she’d have to put in to get out the stains.

Before I had a chance to get to my feet, Jake scooped me up, and the familiar fear of being far too high for my liking kicked in. I closed my eyes and grabbed for the nearest solid surface, which happened to be his shirt.

“I’m not going to drop you.”

Jake had only dropped me a few times, and with one exception, it’d always been on purpose into some form of water. The one time he had dropped me, he’d been caught off guard, and we had fallen together in a tangle of arms and legs.

His words didn’t convince me to ease my death grip on his clothes or open my eyes.

He carried me down the stairs, and I shivered at his every step. Holding onto him made my arm throb, and I swallowed so I wouldn’t make any noise and stir the ire of the wolves.

“Dad, she’s going to need stitches. I’ll take her into your office.”

“How bad?”

“Bad enough she needs stitches,” Jake growled.

“All right. I’ll bring the kit. Put her on the couch. That’ll be the easiest to clean up. How bad is the upstairs bathroom?”