“What happened with Nix can be prevented. We can work on teaching you to use your other senses, to feel the changes in the atmosphere around you—”
“Why did I just get a sudden image of Obi-Wan teaching Luke to use the force?”
“It can work,” Jax insisted, ignoring the bad joke. “Isn’t it worth a try? You owe it to yourself not to leave before you’ve exhausted every possibility.”
“And in the meantime, I sit around and be useless? Or worse, get someone else hurt? I can’t do that.”
“You returned to the field too soon. Give it more time.”
Jax looked so hopeful, and what he said made sense. But Zan still saw Nix’s body covered in blood.
“I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise for now.”
“All right,” his friend said, not trying to mask his relief. “Thanks.”
Mac and Noah came in to wheel him down for his tests, and Zan endured the seemingly endless onslaught of procedures with as much cheerfulness as he could muster. Which wasn’t a lot, but he did his best to keep the gloom from suffocating him.
Back in his room, there was more waiting. He and Jax made small talk about everything under the sun, until Mac returned. When she came through the door at last, clutching a large manila envelope, her expression was carefully neutral, and Zan’s heart sank.
“It’s bad,” he said. Not a question.
“I’d hoped for better results.” Opening the envelope, she removed a handful of images, stuck one in a clip mounted to a viewing panel on the wall, and flipped a switch to illuminate a colorful shot of his brain. “These are from the CAT scan. See these areas here?”
She pointed to three spots where there seemed to be some sort of fuzziness to the otherwise sharp image.
“I see, but I don’t know what I’m looking at.”
“These are areas of new damage to your brain,” she said grimly. “In layman’s terms, the healing you performed on Nix put too much strain on the weakened vessels, and some of them ruptured. They’re causing the horrible headache and dizziness you have now.”
“Is he in immediate danger?” Jax asked, glancing at Zan worriedly.
“Not if he rests and follows my advice.” Mac arched a brow and gazed at Zan pointedly. “If you were human, you’d be flat on your back in intensive care right now.”
“But I’m not human,” he muttered. “I’ll be fine.”
Mac shook her head. “You won’t be if you perform any more healing before you’re one hundred percent healed yourself. See these areas?” She pointed to five other spots. They didn’t look like anything to Zan, but her expression was as serious as he’d ever seen.
“These are vessels that are currently weakened so severely, the chances are high that you’ll wind up with serious brain damage if you use your healing ability again too soon. If the slow bleeding becomes outright hemorrhaging, you might not survive.”
“Jesus.” Hanging his head, he stared at his hands in his lap without really seeing them. Finally, he raised his eyes to hers and voiced his biggest concern. “If I do what you say, remain on the sidelines and refrain from using my gift, will I completely recover? Can you tell me with reasonable certainty that I’ll be back in the field eventually, able to fight and use my healing with no problems?”
Her pause was too long, and he knew the answer before she spoke. “I’m sorry. I can’t say that for sure. Only what will happen if you don’t do as we recommend.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“It’s all we’ve got for now.”
God. “I want to go back to my own quarters. Please.”
“Not tonight. You’re staying here overnight. If you’re better tomorrow, I’ll consider it.” Her stance held a certain finality and stubbornness that he knew meant, Don’t fuck with the doc.
“Fine.”
“I’ll check on you later.” Shooting Zan a look of sympathy, Mac left, closing the door quietly behind her. Jax hovered for a moment and then let out a deep breath.
“Give me your word you won’t leave just yet. Give yourself a chance. The team needs you. Shit, I need you.”
Damn his best friend for knowing exactly what to say. He knew once Zan gave his word on anything, it was gold. Tension hung in the air between them, Zan struggling with saying the words, until he knew it was pointless to refuse.
“You’ve got my word. And I’m not a quitter, just for the record.”
“Nobody thinks you are.”
“I just don’t want to endanger my brothers.”
“Understood. I felt the same way after my leg was injured and I couldn’t fight.”
“I know.” He paused. “And thanks.”
“No problem. I’ll let you get some sleep.” Giving him a pat on the shoulder, Jax left.
Settling in for the night, Zan tried to sleep, but his dreams were uneasy. Filled with blood and death. A battle. Carnage. Horrible sorrow. Zan, trying desperately to heal . . . someone. Who? Then his own screams rang in his ears as his brain finally detonated—
Zan sat bolt upright in bed, gasping, sweat pouring down his face. His heart thudded against his sternum, and his hands shook as he wiped the moisture from his brow.
Over and over, he told himself that he didn’t have the ability to see the future. That was Nick’s area. It was just a nightmare. Gradually, his pulse calmed and he lay down again.
But his eyes were still wide open as the sun broke over the horizon.
He had to go for a run.
Nick paced his office, then stopped and stared out the window, across the lawn to the forest at the edge of the compound. His wolf strained inside him, always eager for a good run, and he was usually happy to oblige.
But today felt different. The pull was more than just the desire for earth under his paws. There was a sense that he was supposed to go. Destiny was upon him, for good or ill, and today marked the beginning of serious changes in his life.
For however much longer his life might be.
Surrendering to the pull, Nick left his office and walked down the corridors, speaking to a few of the team along the way. Outside, he strode across the compound and into the woods a ways before stripping his clothes and allowing his wolf to take over.
For him, a born wolf with more than two centuries of experience, the change was effortless. In some ways, he’d always been more comfortable in his wolf skin, and there was a time long ago when he’d nearly traded in his human life in favor of his wolf, permanently. A time when the pain of tragic loss was too much to bear. He’d drifted for years, an immortal creature with no future—a great irony if ever there was one.
If it hadn’t been for his old friend Jarrod Grant pulling some strings to get him into the FBI, and eventually the position as commander of the Alpha Pack, there was no telling what might’ve become of him.
Still, each day was a struggle. To find meaning in life where there was none. To wake up one more day and honor his commitments to his men when the weight of all he’d lost was almost too much to bear.
As he stood on four paws surveying his surroundings, he let the memories go and ran. His paws dug into the earth, sending leaves and dirt flying as his long legs ate up the distance. His wolf didn’t care about destiny or death.
But as a white blur detached itself from the trees and raced to intercept him, he knew that one of those—possibly both—had found him all the same.
She heard the crashing sounds in the forest a minute or so before he actually came into view.
All of her careful planning, the months of waiting, had come to this moment. She’d make him pay for what he’d done. At last.