toward her. "We've got you, it'll be all right." Another of the werewolves who stayed behind was calling Wynn's father, Jonas O'Neill, on a cell phone.
"We've got her. She's wounded but it's superficial, I think. Dr. Lang is tending her now." Ashe was still watching David Lang work on Wynn as he pulled his athletic shoes on.
"She'll be all right," Marcus placed a hand on Ashe's shoulder. "How was the fight going when you left?"
"Good, I think," Ashe said absently as he watched Dr. Lang slip an IV into Wynn's hand. Someone else was there, holding up the bag of IV fluid while the wound was cleaned and bandaged. Wynn, lying in the back of the van while she received treatment, moaned softly now and then, but Ashe felt sure that Dr. Lang had given her something for pain already.
"A bad graze and some superficial wounds on her hips," Dr. Lang said as Ashe crowded close to Sali behind the van.
"I thought you were a paramedic," Ashe said.
"I work as a paramedic, Son. I'm more than a hundred years old. Got my medical license more than fifty years ago. I know what I'm doing. Now, what about you? Got the shakes?"
Ashe was a little shaky but didn't want to admit it. "I'll be okay," he said, watching Sali crawl into the van beside Wynn.
"Sali?" Wynn's voice was weak.
"Wynn, we'll take care of you, I promise," Sali whispered. Ashe heard it clearly. He also saw Wynn grip Sali's hand. Ashe knew he shouldn't have been shocked to see Sali lift the hand and kiss it. An unexpected wave of jealousy hit Ashe, and he struggled with that as he watched Sali comfort Wynn.
"If you need something, even to sleep, let Winkler or me know," Dr. Lang said, patting Ashe's shoulder and bringing his attention back to the doctor. "That was good work, young man."
Ashe nodded and walked to the back of the van, where Sali still held Wynn's hand. "You okay, Wynn?" he asked hoarsely. He'd been frightened out of his wits when the gun had cracked and Wynn had fallen. Now he wanted to be the one holding Wynn's hand.
"I'll be okay," Wynn sighed and closed her eyes.
"Look what we have here," Marcus grinned. Ashe whirled to see Winkler, his six werewolves and the two vampires bringing nine of the ten men out of the game preserve. All were handcuffed in silver chains. One of the men, the one with the bushy mustache, bore wounds across his face where Ashe had hit him. Ashe worried that the man who'd been shot now lay dead in the desert. He shuddered.
"Ashe, what can you tell me about these men?" Winkler asked.
"He's the one who shot Wynn," Ashe pointed to the one with the mustache, "but that was after I took that one's rifle away; he was going to shoot Wynn first," Ashe nodded at the other man.
"Congressman Howard, what do you have to say to that?" Winkler grinned. Ashe gaped. Congressman Howard? He knew that name, all right.
* * *
"Your son is fine and we have the culprits in custody. The rest of the Lubbock Pack is scouring the compound. Matt Michaels is on his way, and he'll shut the preserve down as soon as he gets here. They'll go over it with a fine toothed comb for evidence, too," Winkler informed Aedan over the phone. "Wynn was grazed by a rifle bullet, but thanks to Ashe's quick thinking, it wasn't any worse than that. What we haven't figured out is what to do with the esteemed congressman."
"He needs to rot in jail," Aedan hissed. Ashe, who sat on a chair inside Winkler's hotel room, listened to his father on the other end of the call.
"I think he deserves worse. Who knows who or what he's killed before? Dalroy and Rhett are attempting to get information from Tanner. What we learn may not be comforting by any stretch," Winkler observed.
"Let me talk to Ashe if he's there," Aedan sighed.
"He's here," Winkler said and handed the phone to Ashe.
"Dad?" Ashe didn't know what his father was going to say or do.
"Son, are you all right? Did they hurt you in any way?"
"They didn't have a chance. I do want to talk to you when I get home,
"We've got her. She's wounded but it's superficial, I think. Dr. Lang is tending her now." Ashe was still watching David Lang work on Wynn as he pulled his athletic shoes on.
"She'll be all right," Marcus placed a hand on Ashe's shoulder. "How was the fight going when you left?"
"Good, I think," Ashe said absently as he watched Dr. Lang slip an IV into Wynn's hand. Someone else was there, holding up the bag of IV fluid while the wound was cleaned and bandaged. Wynn, lying in the back of the van while she received treatment, moaned softly now and then, but Ashe felt sure that Dr. Lang had given her something for pain already.
"A bad graze and some superficial wounds on her hips," Dr. Lang said as Ashe crowded close to Sali behind the van.
"I thought you were a paramedic," Ashe said.
"I work as a paramedic, Son. I'm more than a hundred years old. Got my medical license more than fifty years ago. I know what I'm doing. Now, what about you? Got the shakes?"
Ashe was a little shaky but didn't want to admit it. "I'll be okay," he said, watching Sali crawl into the van beside Wynn.
"Sali?" Wynn's voice was weak.
"Wynn, we'll take care of you, I promise," Sali whispered. Ashe heard it clearly. He also saw Wynn grip Sali's hand. Ashe knew he shouldn't have been shocked to see Sali lift the hand and kiss it. An unexpected wave of jealousy hit Ashe, and he struggled with that as he watched Sali comfort Wynn.
"If you need something, even to sleep, let Winkler or me know," Dr. Lang said, patting Ashe's shoulder and bringing his attention back to the doctor. "That was good work, young man."
Ashe nodded and walked to the back of the van, where Sali still held Wynn's hand. "You okay, Wynn?" he asked hoarsely. He'd been frightened out of his wits when the gun had cracked and Wynn had fallen. Now he wanted to be the one holding Wynn's hand.
"I'll be okay," Wynn sighed and closed her eyes.
"Look what we have here," Marcus grinned. Ashe whirled to see Winkler, his six werewolves and the two vampires bringing nine of the ten men out of the game preserve. All were handcuffed in silver chains. One of the men, the one with the bushy mustache, bore wounds across his face where Ashe had hit him. Ashe worried that the man who'd been shot now lay dead in the desert. He shuddered.
"Ashe, what can you tell me about these men?" Winkler asked.
"He's the one who shot Wynn," Ashe pointed to the one with the mustache, "but that was after I took that one's rifle away; he was going to shoot Wynn first," Ashe nodded at the other man.
"Congressman Howard, what do you have to say to that?" Winkler grinned. Ashe gaped. Congressman Howard? He knew that name, all right.
* * *
"Your son is fine and we have the culprits in custody. The rest of the Lubbock Pack is scouring the compound. Matt Michaels is on his way, and he'll shut the preserve down as soon as he gets here. They'll go over it with a fine toothed comb for evidence, too," Winkler informed Aedan over the phone. "Wynn was grazed by a rifle bullet, but thanks to Ashe's quick thinking, it wasn't any worse than that. What we haven't figured out is what to do with the esteemed congressman."
"He needs to rot in jail," Aedan hissed. Ashe, who sat on a chair inside Winkler's hotel room, listened to his father on the other end of the call.
"I think he deserves worse. Who knows who or what he's killed before? Dalroy and Rhett are attempting to get information from Tanner. What we learn may not be comforting by any stretch," Winkler observed.
"Let me talk to Ashe if he's there," Aedan sighed.
"He's here," Winkler said and handed the phone to Ashe.
"Dad?" Ashe didn't know what his father was going to say or do.
"Son, are you all right? Did they hurt you in any way?"
"They didn't have a chance. I do want to talk to you when I get home,
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