14. Mike

FOURTEEN

The two villains had escaped, but Mike was barely paying any mind to that. He held Beatriz in his arms, stroking her hair, continuously making sure she was breathing. Nate retrieved an extra set of clothing from his office for him to change into while they all waited for the ambulance to arrive.

To say that Mike was afraid would be an understatement. Beatriz, while she was still breathing, sounded haggard, like a pipe stuffed with marbles rattled inside her chest. He kept his palm pressed on the back of her head, the cold sensation of the blood causing his own to freeze with despair.

"They're coming," Nate tried to reassure him, standing in the alleyway. "Tristan and Barbara know some of the best doctors in the community. She will be okay."

Nate's voice sounded garbled to Mike's hazy perception. Mike was fixated on Beatriz, hyper-vigilant of every change in her withering form that he could detect. He was so focused that he barely noticed the stream of blue and red light casting itself over his and her skin.

"Sir, sir, please stand aside."

Mike nearly barked at the man who was trying to tear Beatriz from his arms, dead set on removing his head from his shoulders. But then he realized it was the paramedic, and they were trying to get her onto the gurney and lift her into the ambulance.

"Yes, sorry, go, go," he muttered.

Mike let the two men who looked like shifters scoop Beatriz"s unconscious body from his arms. It was agony feeling his vacant arms, the frosty, harrowing consideration that they may never be filled again, nearly making him sick.

Nate helped him to his feet, which he would later be thankful for. They both stepped into the ambulance and rode along with the paramedics to the hospital, watching closely as her vitals were checked and her body was hooked up to various machines.

Time seemed to crawl by for Mike, whose body turned into stone as the paramedics worked on his beloved. They got to the shifter hospital quickly, but it felt like an eternity to him.

He had been in plenty of terrible, often mortal, situations working as an enforcer. He was always able to divide himself between what was practical and what was personal. But all of that changed after he met his fated mate.

He needed her the way he needed air to breathe, and he wasn't afraid to admit it. He wanted her by his side every second, whole and happy. The idea of her being injured caused him physical pain and made his wolf howl forlornly inside him.

He had just found her. He was eager to see what glorious things lay ahead of them. And the possibility of losing her before they had a chance to claim one another, to flourish as partners and lovers, was a heartbreak he would not survive.

Nate accompanied Mike as he followed Beatriz, who was still unconscious on the hospital gurney. They raced through the hallway and passed the double doors of the emergency room, where an older gentleman stopped them promptly.

"Get out of my way," Mike hissed.

As Beatriz disappeared, Nate grabbed hold of Mike by the shoulders. His strength was insurmountable, but it was nothing in comparison to a shifter"s need to get to his mate.

But the older gentleman was gracious and compassionate. He laid a hand on Mike's shoulder and spoke in a way that calmed his fury.

"My name is William Campos. I work with Tristan and Barbara, and I have for years. Beatriz is in good hands. We are going to work on her as fast as we can and get back to you."

Mike settled down and agreed to sit with Nate in the waiting room. The sitting aspect didn't last very long as Mike began to pace the hallway, worry ravaging his body like a hurricane.

Dr. Campos emerged only a few minutes later and informed him and Nate that she was going to be okay. Some weight lifted from Mike's shoulders, but he wouldn't be convinced until he was able to see her.

"She is banged up pretty bad, the blow to the back of the head being the worst culprit. But her internal organs are functioning. We just have to stitch her up and let her rest."

Mike wanted to grab the man by the shoulders and shake him like a rag doll. Somehow, he yielded in doing so.

"How long? And why is she unconscious?"

Dr. Campos did not condescend to him but continued to speak in a way that was somewhat hypnotizing. It was no wonder that he was Tristan's right-hand man, according to Nate, anyway.

"Her body reacted to the trauma of the blow. But she is going to be fine, Mike. We just need to close up her wounds so she can heal."

He gave Mike a pat on the shoulder, then disappeared again through the double doors.

At the same time, Tristan rushed in through the entryway doors, his expression alarmed.

"How is she?" he inquired.

Nate and Mike regaled the alpha with what had happened and their limited knowledge of the interaction between Beatriz and the two strangers. Mike informed him that Beatriz had gone to Indulge to help Ellie out and that he went with the same intention.

Tristan listened like the sage guru that he was, with a quiet brooding.

"We will learn more when she awakens. I am so glad you were there, Mike. Something must have called you there."

Mike didn't want to think about what tragedy could have befallen his mate had he waited for her at her cabin the way he initially wanted to. But perhaps Tristan was right. The way of the mate was still somewhat mysterious, even to the modern-day shifter.

Nate left for the cafeteria, leaving Tristan and Mike alone in the ER waiting room. There weren't many people present, so they had privacy to discuss what he had found so far in his drug investigation.

He leaned forward, moving from personal mode to professional like switching masks.

"So I didn't get to tell you yet what I've found. I spoke to two shifters, one named Danny, one named Doris …"

He was cut off by a curt slicing motion in the air by Tristan, a scowl indenting his normally gentle disposition. Mike was befuddled.

"You don't need to talk about that right now, Mike," he said firmly but with kindness. "I know it"s a coping mechanism for men like us to retreat into the details of a work life. But we don't need to deal with that right now. It is okay to be worried about your mate."

Mike was surprised, sitting up straight in his seat. Tristan must have noticed because he grinned. It was lighthearted and made him look younger.

"You didn't know that I knew?" he jested. "It isn't difficult to see."

Mike felt self-consciousness for a moment, peering back down the hallway at the double doors. They stood still, mocking him.

"You have never once left your phone on silent mode, Mike," Tristan continued. "I was annoyed, but then Barbara told me about the way you looked at Beatriz. She clocked it early on."

Mike sighed. There was no point in beating around the bush anymore. Of all the people he could trust, it was the Wolfe's.

"How did she know?" he asked.

Tristan shrugged, then crossed his legs. Mike wished he could stop feeling so unsettled, but nothing would remedy that until he was able to be by Beatriz's side.

"The shifter intuition, I suppose. Also, lovers" intuition. We, as men, the supernatural kind, change when we find our mates. Not exponentially, but we become more of who we really are. She will do the same. There's nothing more beautiful in this universe than that."

Mike was comforted by his words, but he still felt restless. Tristan continued to reassure him.

"I have known William for years. Even before the girls were born. He is a leading expert on shifter surgery and medicine. I promise you, she will be okay."

Mike trusted the alpha, and he desperately wanted to believe him. But the shifter in him, the wolf that eagerly wanted to claim her, wouldn't ease until Beatriz was thriving.

"You know," Tristan went on, inching closer to Mike. "Barbara was here once. There was a rogue attack, and she was in the middle of it. I'm pretty sure I am the reason they had to rebuild several of these walls."

Mike chuckled, a foreign sound to his own ears, and looked at Tristan. He was smiling softly like a father trying to dispel his son's fears.

"You get it then," Mike whispered. "You get that it's agony."

Tristan nodded.

"The worst kind. You are out of control. You don't know what is going to happen next, no matter what the doctor says. I get it. I'm here with you."

He placed a hand on Mike's knee and squeezed it. It was another fatherly gesture that made his heart glow.

"Thank you," Mike muttered. "I am really glad you're here. I don't know what happened, but I … I just hope it wasn't my fault."

Tristan's brow furrowed, and he shook his head slowly. Nate finally returned with snacks and coffee.

Mike wasn't hungry.

"Let's worry about that later. Right now, we are waiting for the surgery to finish. Then we take the next step. That's really all any of us can do."

His alpha was right in every aspect. But none of that could unravel the knot in his stomach.