On every operation, the first thing he did when he entered a room was use his impeccable hearing skills to listen for any hostiles. But he hadn’t this time. He’d been too distracted, too afraid to use his shifter senses because to do that, he had to let his bear close to the surface. And ever since he’d met his mate—and walked away—he was terrified that if he gave his animal side even the smallest amount of leeway, it would try to break free to go in search of Aria. And because of that fear, he hadn’t followed protocol, and hadn’t even had the balls to tell the rest of the team that he couldn’t.
And now, Kit had been hurt. Because of him.
“Do you think you can walk?” he asked.
She nodded then attempted to walk toward the bedroom door. The grimace of pain on her face told Nash how much the movement had cost her. He wanted to reach out and support her weight, but the prisoner was still struggling and letting out a string of cuss words in Spanish that were mostly wasted on Nash. He gave him a shake, then shoved him toward the door.
“Let me go out first,” Nash said to Kit, grabbing hold of the prisoner before he could make a break for it.
Kit was in no condition to properly defend herself if she ran into another hostile, and they both knew it. She gave a curt nod then hung back while Nash pushed the man out into the hallway.
“All clear,” Hawk said as soon as he set eyes on Nash. Then his eyes widened, and his nose twitched, and Nash knew his teammate was scenting Kit’s blood.
“Is that…?”
Nash nodded. “Kit’s been stabbed. She needs help.”
Hawk’s jaw tightened and he shouldered past Nash and the perp to get into the bedroom. Nash sighed as he led the cuffed man outside. Flint would have every right to kick him off the team for this, and part of Nash hoped he would. He deserved it. If he couldn’t protect his teammates, then why was he even here? Their special skills were the reason they’d been picked in the first place. If Nash couldn’t be relied upon to use his shifter abilities, then what use was he to the team? Maybe it was for the best. If he couldn’t get his shit together, more of his team were going to get hurt, and he couldn’t stand to be responsible for that.
Arresting the men at the house was only the beginning of the operation. There was another team waiting to go in and search the property after the SWAT team had vacated. Nash and the others took the men they’d arrested at the property back to the FBI base of operations on the outskirts of the city. From there, they would be interviewed so that the FBI could learn more about when and how they brought their cocaine into the city, and hopefully finally crack the gang they’d been chasing for months.
Most of the men professed to speak no English, but Hawk was Mexican American so when he started conversing with them in fluent Spanish, they were all out of excuses.
Kit was taken straight to their medical wing which was in the basement of the building near the parking lot. It was reserved exclusively for shifters. Not everyone who worked in the FBI was privy to the information that shifters not only existed, but lived and worked closely among humans, and it would probably freak out the regular med staff if their patients started healing from deadly wounds in a matter of hours. But there were some wounds even shifter healing couldn’t fix. Nash felt like a band was wound tight around his chest. If anything happened to his teammate…
The entire team were with him in the messroom, waiting for news, when Flint strode in.
“She’s fine,” he said, and a collective sigh reverberated around their small group. “She was stabbed in the upper thigh and the blade just missed her hip bone.”
A lump rose in Nash’s throat, and he tried and failed to swallow it down. His fault. It was his fault.
“The doctor has seen her and said there won’t be any lasting effects. He gave her some pain killers and…”
Flint checked he wasn’t being overheard then added, “She’s shifted into her cat form to help her heal quicker. She was fast asleep when I looked in on her. There shouldn’t be any complications.”
“Oh, thank God,” Hawk said. “Can I go and see her?”
“I’d let her rest for an hour first,” Flint said.
Hawk nodded.
Flint turned then pinned Nash in place with a fiery stare. “Can I have a word?”
He didn’t wait for a reply, just turned and headed back out of the room.
As he walked past, Cole shot him a reassuring smile, but it had little effect. Nash knew he deserved whatever was about to come his way. He found his team leader waiting for him out in the corridor. Flint pushed open the door to one of the interview rooms then stood aside to let Nash go in before him. Nash walked into the room then took a seat on the chair that was usually reserved for the people they arrested. Fitting. Flint came in then closed the door behind him, shutting them in together.
He sat down in the chair opposite Nash with a sigh. “Okay, tell me what happened in there.”
Nash swallowed hard, and then went through the details of the operation in excruciating detail, omitting nothing. After he was finished talking, Flint frowned.
“What about your abilities? Didn’t you use them when you entered the room?”
Nash tugged at the top button on his shirt. It wasn’t the biggest of rooms and with two overly large shifters crammed into it, the temperature had already started creeping up. Plus, Flint ran hotter than most, even when he wasn’t interrogating someone.
Nash stared down at his hands. “I’m trying not to use my abilities right now.”
Flint frowned. “What the hell? Why not?”
