Page 32 of Legally Mated
I leaned in a little. “Yeah, and it won’t be much of a cover if you keep talking about it in public.” I kept my voice low. “You got in trouble not six months ago for trying to shoehorn me in as second chair. Don’t get yourself in the same hotwater.”
Typical Laine, he waved my worries off, every inch the arrogant alpha despite having only one form. “All practices have these ebbs and surges of work and six months ago we let a couple of under-performing associates go. It was normal, as much as you refuse to believe me. And don’t worry, I have plenty of billable hours this week. I’ll say I went to the doctor.” He smiled at me. “I don’t want you at the library alone either. Not until the Bricken thing cools down, okay? Do this for me, so I don’t have a stroke from thestress?”
Well, what could a fellow say to that? “All right, you win. Schemingbastard.”
He grinned his triumph and turned down the sidewalk, heading for the parking lot and I had to follow him, mostly because he was my drive. Maybe a little because I liked the way he looked in a suit. Okay, maybe a lot because of how he looked in a suit. I wondered if, later, I could talk him into take-out, something messy, so I’d have an excuse to peel him out of that suit beforeweate.
Damn, but it was nice to get out and around, not be running trying to beat the clock—or the filing deadline. Laine’s suggestion to take the afternoon off was surprisingly appealing, given that the afternoon would also include him. I had nothing pressing going on at the moment, though I supposed there was research I could be doing for Eva, or for the deposition on Friday—assuming I was still working onthecase.
Something caught my attention, a whiff of anger and fear and some bitter scent beneath it that— “Laine,getdown!”
A familiar face came rampaging out of the crowd. I remembered him coming into the office one day to talk to Laine. Paul’s brother. I thought his name was Matthew—his family had a thing for biblical names. His hair stood out wild around his face and his features were distorted with rage. “You bastard! Why did you let him do that?” he yelled and pointed a gun at Laine, who stood there like a lamb waiting to be eaten. I dropped my bag and lunged for him, knocking him to the ground at the same time as I heard the strangely quiet pop of what I assumed was the gun. It didn’t sound like television. It didn’t sound like much of anythingatall.
We were lucky we were at the courthouse—the place was full of cops and Matthew was swatted to the ground before he could take another shot at Laine. My heart was pounding, my blood roaring in my ears and I could hardly breathe, I was so scared. “Are you all right?” I asked frantically while still lying on topofhim.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, his voice shaky. “Are you allright?”
I ignored that. “He didn’t hit you?” I shoved myself off him and my eyes went wide at the bright red stain covering the left side of his shirt. “You’re bleeding!” I started pulling frantically on his shirt, though what good I thought I could do, I didn’t know. I looked up and caught the gaze of one of the people nearby. “Call an ambulance! He’s been shot!” I finally got the damn shirt out of Laine’s pants despite his protests and began looking for the wound that had to bethere.
“Garrick, it’s not me, it’s you,” Laine whispered. Then louder, “You’ve been shot!Liedown!”
What? I didn’t feel anything. And then I did, a sharp burning, not in my chest, but lower, in that soft gap just below the curve of my ribs. The world spun around me and I thought I fell back, curling blackness filling in the edges of myvision.
Laine put a hand behind my head and lowered me to the ground. “Don’t worry, there’s an ambulancecoming.”
I coughed and tasted something bitterly metallic. “The hospital here doesn’t serve shifters, Laine. I have to go to Jackson.” The weight on my chest, not fear, or not entirely, grewheavier.
“Like hell they don’t serve shifters. I’m a lawyer, remember?” He grinned down at me, as if I couldn’t smell his fear, as sharply metallic as my blood. My side ached and stung and he stripped off his suitcoat and folded it up to put under my head. He pulled the towel out of my bag and pressed it against the pain in my side, making it momentarily worse, but then, perhaps more frightening than anything else, the pain seemedtofade.
I felt sick to my stomach and there didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the air. Surely I couldn’t have lost that much blood already? It was just anxiety, like before my first law exam, when I’d walked into the room knowing that the professor didn’t think I belonged there and I was going to have to be twice as good as anyone else to even pass. I opened my mouth, reaching for more air, but something tickled or caught—I wasn’t sure which—inside my chest and I started to cough, and then I couldn’t catch my breathatall.
“Hey, take it easy,” Laine said. I could hear the tension and worry in his voice and I reached out to try to comfort him. Not like he could do anything about this, and I’d kind of been asking for it, going outside walls so much. Holland was right—the walls were more for our protection now. I wondered if this would put a crimp in Quin’s and Abel’s plan to get rid of them, and then I just kind of…fadedaway.
Chapter25
Laine watched helplesslyas the color drained out of Garrick’s face and his eyes rolled back in his head. “No,” he cried, careless of onlookers. It was stupid, this prejudice. For fuck’s sake, what kind of harm could Garrick do with half his lifeblood spreading out over theconcrete?
One of the police officers crouched down beside him as Laine tried to wake Garrick up. “The ambulance is on its way. He’ll have to go to the trauma center. You know why he got shot? Was it these?” The officer flicked the tabs, standing out like bull’s-eye’s on the lapels ofGarrick’ssuit.
Shit, he’d going to be mad about the bloodstains onhissuit.
Laine shook his head—he was getting stupid with shock. “I think he was after me,” he said quietly and looked up at the officer. “I represented his brother in court, he didn’t get the outcome he wanted. Garrick must have seen him before I did, he pushed me down and took the bullet—” His voice choked off and he rubbed his cheek against his shoulder to wipe away the tear that snuck out to roll down his cheek. “Dammit, don’t you die on me, you bastard,” he gritted, and pushed down harder on the wound. “Where’s the fuckingparamedics?”
As if he’d summoned them, the wailing of the siren started to grow over the excited chatter of the crowd. The officer stood up and started to help in moving the crowd out of the way, and then the paramedics were there and Laine could have kissed them, because they very obviously didn’t give a shit about the yellow tabs on Garrick’s coat. In fact, they cut the coat off him, and the shirt, and went to work so fast that Laine hardly even noticed being shoved out of the way. He sat on the cement beside them and watched, dumbfounded, and his brain ran in circles until he realized he was terrified that Garrick was going to die, and then it all made sensetohim.
The paramedics loaded Garrick onto the stretcher and started to put him in the ambulance. Laine stared blankly at the mess of bloodied gauze and the remnants of Garrick’s coat, the tabs still gleaming ironically in the bright sunshine. He bent to pick it up, then realized they’d closed the back of the ambulance and the driver was walking around to the front of the vehicle. “Where are you taking him?” hecalledout.
“Trauma center. Does he have anyinsurance?”
Dammit, he didn’t know. “If he doesn’t, I have my credit card.” But that reminded him that he’d have to call the pack, and his stomach twisted with an anxiety he hadn’t felt since his first ever solo murder trial. He watched the ambulance pull away, wincing at the strident wail of the siren, then turned to gather uptheirbags.
“You’re going to the hospital?” the cop who’d first spoken to himasked.
Laine nodded and started gathering his scattered wits. “Unless you need to speak to me first.” There was nothing he could do at the hospital except pay, and get in the way. His hands were shaking and he stared at them, the red blood turning darkish around theedges.
“We’d like to hear what you know, but someone can come find you at the hospital. Let me just get your contact information. Do you have someone who can take you? You probably shouldn’t bedriving.”
The cop was right—his hands were shaking worse now, and his brain was working like molasses. “I’ll find someone.” He watched as the officer wrote down his name and phone number, his profession, and then any information he had of Matthew’s and Garrick’s. The man’s pen wavered slightly when he got to Garrick’s family name, then continued smoothly, but it made Laine wonder what effect Garrick’s species was going to have on thisinvestigation.
