Page 125 of Bloodhunter

Eric nodded and walked over to stand beside us. “He’s got along road ahead of him, but I believe he’ll recover.” He glanced over hisshoulder at Shaun, who leaned against the wall in the hallway, looking at hisphone, then leaned quickly toward me. “He needs to shift to heal. But if heshifts, they may kill him.”

Shaun pushed away from the wall and came to peer through thebars. He said nothing, but was watchful. Maybe he behaved professionally, buthe was a cop, and his loyalty lay with his fellow cops.

“Son of abitch,”I muttered. “Assholes.” I thoughtAngus wasn’t shifting because he was too injured. But if they were forbiddinghim to shift, it would take him forever to heal. And that was exactly what theywanted. An injured shifter was easier to control than a healthy one.

Eric made a show of checking Angus’s various lines andbandages, then hurried from the room without another word.

“Trin,” Angus whispered, his voice like broken glass.“Kids?”

“They’re good.” I leaned over and pressed my forehead tohis. “I saw them this morning. They miss you.”

He still looked like he was dying, but his bruises werefading and his gaping wounds were closing. He looked more like a man and lesslike a misshapen, swollen lump. He’d be okay. That old spark in his eyes saidhe would.

“They fucked me up,” he said.

“So much.” I kissed his forehead. “And so badly.”

“Don’t cry.”

“I’m not,” I said, wiping my spilled tears from where they’dfallen upon his cheek.

“You’re hurt,” he noted.

I snorted. “No,you’rehurt. I was spanked by somevampires and then I killed the sons of bitches.”

He muttered something I couldn’t quite grasp, his voice weak.

I put my ear against his cracked lips. “What’d you say?”

“I said,” he whispered, “that I would like to spank you.”

I pursed my lips in disapproval. “For God’s sake, Angus. Andyou half dead.”

He laughed, and his dry, cracked lips began to bleed.

“You’re going to be fine.” I pulled a tissue from my pocketto blot away the blood. But before he could really be fine, he needed to shift.

I glanced behind me. Once again, Shaun the cop was leaningagainst the wall across the hall, his attention on his phone.

I turned back to Angus. “They’re denying you your shift?”

His frown was fleeting, and he nodded. “I’ll heal, justslow.”

“I’m going to talk to the captain.”

“They’re his orders.” He tried to lift his fingers to myface, but his hand fell back to the cot. I grabbed it and lifted it for him.“Full moon soon,” he said, as I rubbed my cheek against his palm. “By then I’llbe contained some place secure, and I’ll shift and heal.”

“Angus,” I murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“No reason to be. Stop worrying about me.”

“Right,” I said. “That’s going to happen.”

We stared at each other, and I clung desperately to thefamiliarity of his eyes. Every other part of him was changed. Marked. But hiseyes, those were the same.

“Angus…be careful. Don’t rile them. The next time theymight…” But I didn’t need to say it. He wasn’t stupid. He had a hell of atemper, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Tell the kids I love them,” he murmured