Home > Time Mends (Timber Wolves Trilogy #2)(17)

Time Mends (Timber Wolves Trilogy #2)(17)
Author: Tammy Blackwell

Jase glared, his jaw tight. “You’re being reckless.”

“And you’re seriously pissing me off.” My nails were digging into the wood of the table, a seriously amazing feat considering it took some effort to knick its surface with a knife. I would probably freak out over the whole monster-like bizarreness of it later, but at the moment I was just grateful to have something to claw into other than Jase’s pretty face.

“You’re the Pack Leader. It’s your job to protect her.”

“It’s my job to be a freaking human being and do the right thing.”

“The right thing? Bullshit. You’re going to do what you always do, what’s right for Scout.”

There are very few humans who can use their arms to hoist themselves onto a table and then jump four feet with pinpoint accuracy, but for a Shifter it’s apparently not a big deal because I managed without giving it much thought at all. Unfortunately, the person I leapt onto was also a Shifter, and the two seconds it took me to complete the move was more than sufficient time for him to prepare a defense. Instead of toppling Jase to the floor, like I planned, I found myself being flung towards the stove.

“Dammit,” I hissed as my hand came down on an eye which hadn’t quite hit the cooled off stage and my knee banged against the cabinet. I knew at least half of my hand was burnt, but I couldn’t feel any pain.

You know how they do that slo-mo thing in superhero movies? The soundtrack goes silent, leaving just Superman and the clicking of the gun, the little flash of fire, and the piece of metal cutting slowly through the air? My Shifter abilities didn’t work that way.

I still heard everything. The hum of electricity running to various kitchen appliances. The woosh of air coming out of the vents. The gunfire, screams, and mildly disturbing giggles coming from Jase’s room where Angel was playing video games. Despite the fact she was upstairs and on the other end of the house, I could still hear the steady sound of her heartbeat just as clearly as the sharp intake of breath from Talley, who was only three feet away. I could hear Charlie’s muttered curse and the soft scrape of Jase’s socks on the tile as he turned towards me.

It should have been too much. It almost was too much, but unlike before my Change, my brain instinctively knew how to filter through and process the plethora of information being thrown at it.

I dropped to the ground just quick enough to feel the breeze from Jase’s fist across the top of my head. There was a slight sting as my burnt hand hit the cold floor, causing me to almost lose balance as I pivoted, bringing my left leg around to sweep Jase’s feet, which were no longer there. There was the briefest look of triumph in his eyes before my fist slammed into his stomach.

From that moment on, there was no holding back. Jase and I had been sparring with one another since we were kids, but this was different. This was a fight, a battle between two Shifters at their most primitive. Every strike was intended to cause harm. And when Jase’s pants began to stain red after his leg crashed through a kitchen chair, I felt joy.

In reality, the fight didn’t last long, but in the heat of the moment I felt as if we had been going at it forever, and might have if the back door hadn’t slammed open admitting one of the few people who could stop my bloodlust cold.

“Scout, stop!” Mom screamed, flying through the mud room towards the melee. “You’re hurting him! Stop!”

And just like that, the otherness that had taken over - the part of me that was nothing but pain and rage, the wolf - was gone. My hands immediately unclenched, one releasing a handful of my brother’s hair while the other freed the arm pinned behind his back. For a moment all I could see was a smear of blood on the blue and white tiles, although I was aware of the shattered furniture and destruction around me.

“Aunt Rebecca, don’t!” Charlie exclaimed from the safety of the formal dining room no one ever used, causing Mom to freeze with one outstretched hand just inches from my shoulder. If the sight of Jase’s blood decorating our once pristine kitchen wasn’t enough to convince me of the animal I had become, the look of fear and disgust on my mother’s face was.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my chin trembling so ferociously I could barely push the words out. “I didn’t mean to do it. I’m sorry.”

Instead of pulling me into a hug and telling me it was going to be okay, she kept her distance, wariness evident in every inch of her posture. “Will you let me check and see how bad he’s hurt?” Instead of answering, I bolted out the door.

Chapter 9

“Jase is going to be okay.”

I leaned into the driver’s seat, sighing in relief. Of course, I already knew he was okay - my ears stayed trained on his vital signs and Mom’s auditory assessment even as I fled the house - but it was a comfort to hear the words. Even more comforting was the fact Mom came outside to find me, not that the finding part was hard. My plan had been to get in my new car and drive off. The problem was, I was completely pinned in by Talley’s vehicle.

“Let me see your hand,” Mom said, opening a plain white jar. “Charlie said you burned it.”

“It’s not that bad.” As long as you didn’t consider agonizingly painful “bad”. “It’s just a couple of blisters.”

Mom peeled back my fingers, the sting so intense my hand itched to smack her for her efforts. “Harper Lee,” she hissed. “What did you do? Grab a hot skillet without an oven mitt again?”

“Slapped my hand down on the hot stove, actually.”

“Why would you…? Nevermind.” She gently spread a cool white cream over the burn, the mixture of her touch and the ointment easing some of the pain. “Any other injuries I need to know about?”

“Nope.”

“Then why did you limp out of the house?”

“Ran into the business end of a kitchen cabinet handle. No big.”

“And the reason you can’t lift your right arm?”

“Just a bruised rib or two. I’ve had worse.”

There was a break in the rhythm of the caresses across my palm. “You know, I honestly can’t remember a time when you weren’t covered in scrapes and bruises. I would blame it on you trying to keep up with the boys if they weren’t always struggling to keep up with you.” You couldn’t miss the sadness in her voice.

   
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