Page 3 of The Rabbit's Foot
That wasn’t what he got, though. They’d taken him at a gas station. The day after he’d turned sixteen, Alpin hadborrowedthe family car, intent on seeing at least part of the world before he was dragged home again. He never made it beyond the Tucson city limits before he was grabbed and injected with something. He fought as hard as he could, but rabbits weren’t known for their strength—they were more about speed and escape. As his mind clouded and his vision dimmed, Alp hoped that his parents wouldn’t be too angry with him about the car.
That had been six years ago. Six years of torn flesh, searing pain, terror, and waking up each night certain it was going to be his last. Alp wasn’t sure what the wolf was going to do to him, but better the devil you know. Especially when he killed the ones who’d hurt Alp so badly.
Well, some of them. Hyde was still out there. Still experimenting on and killing others.
And one way or another, Alp would stop him, even if he died in the process.
For the moment, though, Alpin was safe. He snuggled into the soft leather and closed his eyes. Years of not being able to sleep through the night were catching up to him, and despite the pain searing through his body, he needed rest in the worst way.
Tomorrow was another day, and Alpin couldn’t wait to see his first sunrise in forever. Because as far as Alpin was concerned, it would be one day closer to the last for Hyde.
Chapter 2
Mal slid the bag off his bike, doing his best not to jostle the rabbit. He’d known when the little thing had fallen asleep, because the hammering heartbeat had slowed, and the damn thing snored like a chainsaw. He smiled to himself. At least he’d been able to keep it safe.
He carried it into the cave he’d been living in for the past few weeks. It wasn’t tidy, but it was—oh, shit. He’d forgotten dinner from the other night was still laying against the wall where he’d pushed it. It wouldn’t do for the rabbit to wake up and see… well, one of its distant relatives. Mal picked the body up from the floor and rushed it outside, then buried it in a hole he’d dug.
Returning to the cave, he opened his bag. The rabbit was still buzzing away. Mal stripped off his shirt and put it on the floor of the cave, then lifted the bunny out of the bag and placed him on the garment. The scent from his missing leg was overpowering. Chemicals, blood, decay. Mal needed to get it as clean as possible. Unfortunately, there wasn’t water around that Mal would deem clean enough to apply to a wound. He’d have to go to town again and find what he could at the drugstore. He hoped the pharmacist would know the best way to treat a rabbit.
Taking his jacket out of the bag, Mal thought about putting it on, but then placed it over the rabbit, wanting him to be warm. He tucked the corners around the small body, knowing that because of his scent, predators wouldn’t come near. After, he retrieved his other clean shirt from the worn, leather-bound satchel. He made a mental checklist of what he’d need while in town, beyond the first aid stuff. Something for the rabbit to eat. Some clothes. Some… shit, he had no idea about sizes. Shifters bodies were usually a percentage of the human. Small shifter meant a small human. Big shifter, like Mal, would mean a much larger body. The bunny was tiny by any standard. Clearly it hadn’t been fed in far too long.
Heading back out to his bike, he cast a last glance at the cave, then rolled the motorcycle a fair distance away before he kicked it on. As he opened the throttle and headed off toward town, Mal hoped he was far enough away not to disturb his guest.
Swenson was abuzz about the bar fight when Mal entered the city limits. The bartender had told the police that a stranger had been eating when it broke out and that he’d calmed the crowd with a few words before he left. Now the police wanted to have a conversation with the man.
Fucking great. Last thing Mal needed was to draw attention to himself.
He was shocked that Swenson only had the one store, but it claimed to have everything, so Mal headed there. Once he entered, he grabbed a cart that he proceeded to add bandages, peroxide, and iodine to—all the things his mother had kept on her shelves when Mal was a kid. Adults healed quicker than humans, but kids? Their enhanced metabolism wouldn’t kick in until puberty, so scraped knees were treated seriously in his household. He wondered what his mother would say about a foot that had been lopped off.
He also went for some clothes, but uncertain what the human would look like, Mal couldn’t judge sizes. He decided to grab some socks, but balked at shoes, not knowing what to do about the rabbit’s foot yet. Anything else could wait until the bunny was able to shift. When that happened, he could wear Mal’s clothes until they were able to get him some.
He shuddered, thinking about what would happen when the shifter returned to form and found he’d been hobbled. Mal knew little about rabbits, but one of the things he did remember was they went into shock easily. He hoped it wouldn’t be fatal. After all, he was spending a lot of money to get him healthy.
He stopped in the freezer section and pulled out a few bottles of orange juice from the floor cooler, then hurried through the remaining aisles, grabbing loaves of bread, some peanut butter, grape jelly, bottles of water, a few bags of carrot sticks, apples, a couple of small hay bales from their pet department, a water dish, and then another sleeping bag for his guest.
When the cashier told him it would be nearly $200, Mal groaned. Not because of the money. He had plenty of that. More because if he ran low, he’d need to hustle again, and he wasn’t keen on doing that too often.
Then, even though he didn’t want to think about money, an idea came to Mal. “Is there a vet in town? I’ve got a sick… rabbit.”
The cashier gave a big, genuine smile. “We have Dr. Hamilton. She runs the small animal clinic out on the highway. There’s also Dr. Marrin, but he’s kind of”—she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially—“a dick.”
Mal grinned. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll be stopping to see Dr. Hamilton. Could you tell me where to find her?”
The woman deftly took Mal’s money and made change while giving him detailed instructions at the same time. She was hyperefficient.
“Thank you. I appreciate the help.”
She grinned. “When you see Mom, tell her I said hi, and I’ll call her later this week. Oh, and remind her about my finder’s fee.”
Mal couldn’t help but grin. She’d totally played him.
“But seriously, Mom is the best,” she promised. “If anyone can help your rabbit, it’ll be her.”
“Thank you again,” Mal said as he picked up the bags and carried them out the doors to his… aw, shit.
“How the hell am I going to get all this stuff on the bike?” he growled, staring at the bike that wasn’t meant for being a pack mule.
It took Mal nearly an hour to get everything situated enough where it wouldn’t fall, and by then he was in a foul mood. It got worse when the sky darkened and the first drops of the coming deluge struck his face. Big, wet glops of water ran in rivulets down his cheeks.
