“Yeah, Stewart, I think I am,” said Jackson. With a near-silent grunt, he levered himself down on one knee in front of Luis. “At least I’m gonna give him one to start with. We’ll see how that goes.”
“It’s going to take at least twenty-four hours for the clinic to replace those,” said Stewart. “Who’s gonna pay for them?”
“Not real sure about that part,” Jackson said. “I feel certain the money will come from somewhere. If nothing else, I’m betting his new owner will chip in. Worse comes to worse, I’ll pay for them myself. But I don’t think I’ll have to.”
“He’s a dog.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t think he’s just any dog, Stew.”
Luis watched intently as Jackson uncapped a potion and poured it into a shallow dish. He pushed upright enough so that he could drink, ignoring the harsh explosion of pain that his movement caused. He had his nose in the dish almost before Jackson could set it on the floor. Breathing shallowly, he lapped at the small, valuable amount of liquid and forced his swollen throat muscles to work. Power exploded like a sunburst inside him, flaring outward until his raw, abraded skin felt like it was on fire.
“Want another one?” Jackson asked.
Luis nodded.
“Well, fuck me dead and gone,” Stewart said. The other human sounded shaken.
“A heartfelt, if unsavory, sentiment,” Jackson said. He blew out a breath and poured a second one in the dish, and then the third.
Luis gulped them down.
“Mind if I take some of these bandages off?”
Luis growled, still drinking.
“Oh-kay,” Jackson said, drawing back. “Guess you’ll handle taking the bandages off yourself.”
Luis finished the last of the potion and lay back down, panting as the healing spell spread through his abused body. Broken ribs knitted, and torn muscle and skin mended. Healing potions did an amazing amount of good, but they weren’t pain-free. He felt like his whole body was immersed in flames.
Luckily the humans knew enough to stand well back and let the process occur, because for a short time he felt blinded, out of control. If either had been foolish enough to touch him, he really might have savaged them.
A formless amount of time later, the flames in his body eased. He stretched carefully, taking note of the changes. The pain in his rib cage and throughout his body was now a dull ache. He wasn’t completely healed. His injuries had been too severe, and the Power in stored healing potions was not as potent as fresh spells thrown by a healer.
But the disorientation from his injuries and the medication had burned away, and his mind could finally function again. He could take a deep breath without a stabbing pain in his chest, his raw abrasions had closed over, and the bullet wounds had closed enough so that they were no longer bleeding.
All of that might mean the difference between life and death, because now he was no longer helpless.
He nosed under the blanket to tear at the bandages with his teeth. Then he rolled over, onto all four paws, and shape-shifted. He stood as he changed, instinctively ducking his head in case the ceiling of the trailer was too low for his height.
Both Jackson and Stewart took a couple steps back, staring. Yeah, he got that kind of reaction from some people, more often from other males. He stood at six and a half feet tall when he wasn’t slouching, and his body was all muscle.
Usually females took a few steps closer.
Stewart whispered, “Holy snot.”
“Where did she go?” Luis asked Jackson. He rotated his shoulders carefully and stretched stiff neck muscles.
“She went to the bars,” Jackson said. “Been gone about an hour now.”
Luis snapped out a curse while he ran another mental check on his condition. He needed to get to his supplies, but first he needed to get to Claudia to make sure she was all right.
What the hell was she thinking, going out? She had seen up close and personal what Scott Bradshaw and his friends were capable of doing, and thanks to Rodriguez, her role in today’s events would be well-known by now.
The nearest bar was almost a mile away. Could he run it? Yeah, he could, but it would be uncomfortable, since his ribs were still healing. In another day, maybe two, that wouldn’t matter and he would be able to run the day away, but he wasn’t there quite yet.
“I need clothes,” he said. “And I need to borrow your car.”
Jackson shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, son, but I ain’t got any clothes that’ll fit you.”
“He might be able to squeeze into some sweatpants,” Stewart said. “Or a loose pair of boxers, if you wear them. You know, to at least cover the basics…” The human waved a hand vaguely in the direction below Luis’s waist, looking away.