It was a tragic sight, but John was in too much pain to really process it.
Reaching for his phone, John managed to call Carter. He put the phone on the floor next to his face and let it ring.
“Hi, how’s it going?” Carter answered, sounding cheerful.
“Elijah killed Grayson,” John said. It was difficult to form words. His tongue felt weird, and he realized he’d bitten right through it.
“What?” Carter sounded shocked. “Are you okay? Are you at the apartment?”
“I’m a little hurt,” John mumbled, his vision starting to go black around the edges. “At the apartment. I think…”
John trailed off, unconsciousness slipping over him like a warm wave of darkness and taking him under.
The next thing John knew he was looking up at a grandmotherly woman. She was holding his face between her hands, looking down at him with an intent expression.
“Is he okay?”
That was Carter’s voice. John tried to look toward the sound, but the woman’s grip was stronger than he expected. He let his head fall back and realized that he was lying on something soft.
“I’ve healed him, so yes, he’s fine,” the woman said, dropping John’s face and standing up. John pushed himself into a sitting position, feeling dizzy but otherwise okay. He was on the couch in the living room.
Carter knelt down next to him and wrapped him up in a hug.
“You scared me,” Carter said, stroking John’s hair and breathing him in. He was shaking.
“I’m okay,” John said. He looked up at the woman, realizing with a jolt that she reminded him of Owen. This must be his grandmother.
“Thank you for fixing me,” he said, connecting the dots. Her stern expression melted away and she smiled.
“It was my pleasure.”
“I would have done it, but I’m not that good with brain injuries. You’re lucky my grandmother was close by.”
John’s head swung around to see Owen standing a few feet to his left. He looked pale and tired, and John wondered what he meant by brain injuries. Had Grayson hurt him that bad?
“There was cerebral hemorrhaging,” Owen’s grandmother explained at his confused look. “Healing that kind of damage is very delicate work. I’m sure Owen would have managed, but I was happy to step in and help. It was an excellent teaching opportunity.”
Owen looked mortified by his grandmother’s cheerfulness, but he didn’t say anything.
“I’m happy to help?” John said, though it came out more like a question than a statement. Owen’s grandmother smiled anyway.
“Is Elijah okay?” Owen asked. The last he remembered the young werewolf had been killing his father and looking like an absolute wreck.
“He’ll be okay,” Carter said. “Owen fixed him up. He’s upset and in shock, but once he gets home and the pack can take care of him he’ll be fine.”
John wasn’t so sure about that. Elijah hadn’t looked like someone who would be fine, but he didn’t contradict Carter’s assessment. Hopefully Carter was right and Elijah was more resilient than John gave him credit for.
Resting his head against Carter’s shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being hugged and held, John closed his eyes for just a moment. He didn’t intend to fall asleep, but within seconds of letting his eyes droop shut he was out like a light.
The last thing he heard was Owen’s grandmother assuring a frantic Carter that he was okay.
***
