Max handed him a bottle of water from her bag, and he held it to Cole’s lips while he sipped it.
“Thanks,” Cole murmured, eyes unfocused.
“Cole.” Max shuffled forwards a bit. “Do you remember what we talked about?”
“Hmm?”
Logan’s eyebrows drew together, no idea what she was on about.
“In the crates. I told you I wouldn’t let you die.” She didn’t look at Logan, but she didn’t need to. The growl that burst out of him spoke volumes. She ignored him. “Do you remember?”
Cole’s eyes drifted shut, and she reached out to grab his arm, but Logan’s hand shot out, stopping her. “Leave him.”
Her eyes flashed and she glared down at his hand until he let go of her. “I’m not going to let him die, Logan. Not after everything he’s been through. He’s so close to freedom.”
“If you bite him, there won’t be any freedom for him!”
She sighed, and he knew he was right. “They might make an exception under the circumstances.”
“And if they don’t?” Logan couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation. “Look, all this is beside the point. Cole doesn’t want to be a shifter. That’s the whole reason we’re here in the first place.”
“Is it?” She raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was to escape being forced to join your pack. From what I’ve heard, the McKillan Pack is a particularly nasty one, and if today’s anything to go on, I’ve heard right!”
“They’re not all bad. But yeah, some of them are wankers.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes, exhausted. “I’ve spoken to Cole a lot over the past few weeks, and believe me, he’ll never want the bite. I think he’d rather die first.”
Max’s voice softened as she answered. “That’s easy to say when there’s no chance of it happening. When faced with the prospect of his life ending, I think you might find he’s changed his mind.”
“I very much doubt that.” Logan recognised the look that Cole had worn around shifters and any time they mentioned the bite. He hated the idea, didn’t want it now, and would never want it.
“Cole, honey?” Max tried again, and Cole’s eyes open about halfway. “Would you rather take the bite than die?”
He murmured something that neither of them caught.
“Can you say that again?”
“Mm... Yeah.” He closed his eyes and was out again.
Max sat back in her seat with a satisfied sigh. “See?”
“What?” Logan stared at her, incredulous. “You can’t seriously be taking that as his answer?”
“You heard him.”
“He’s on morphine and was barely conscious just then.”
Max winced and rubbed her belly, and Logan suddenly felt horrified with himself for shouting at her. He shouldn’t be getting her all riled up, it couldn’t be good for the baby.
“Oh, don’t you dare.” She pointed a finger at him.
“What?”
“Stop arguing with me because you suddenly remembered that I’m pregnant. I winced because the baby is kicking up a storm. Which it does every day at this time, so stop sitting over there thinking you can’t argue with a pregnant woman.”
Logan didn’t insult her by denying it. “Why are we even having this conversation anyway? You said Mothecombe was a surgeon and that he had enough supplies to help Cole.”
“I did, and he does. But if you hadn’t noticed, we’ve barely moved in the last twenty minutes or so, and Cole is getting worse.”
Logan turned to look at Cole, reaching for his hand again, and his heart stopped at the sight of him. Max was right. He looked so much worse than when they’d got in the van. All the colour had drained from his face. His skin had a sheen to it, and the bandages on his side and leg were stained red. His leg more so.
