Chapter Sixteen

T hey drove directly to the SPAM offices in Geordi's tidy Toyota 4Runner. Getting from Queen Anne to Capitol Hill involved fighting through a snarl of surface streets, which Micah appreciated. Driving kept Geordi occupied and gave Micah time to think.

And boy howdy, did he have a lot to think about. He'd be seeing that damned white snake in his dreams till the day he died.

Instead of hunting for street parking, Geordi headed down the alley behind the house and stopped in front of what looked like an old carriage house. The door accordioned open at the push of a button, revealing the entrance to an underground parking garage. He'd parked by the time Micah's eyes adjusted to the dim light, but when Micah opened his car door, Geordi told him to wait.

"We've got a couple of hours before lunch, and we're going to spend that time in my office."

"Okay?" Did he need to take some kind of test to join SPAM?

"I want you to tell me everything you know about Seth Damyan." Geordi still had his hands on the steering wheel at ten o'clock and two. "Every last detail. What he looks like, what he smells like, where he lives, and what he eats for breakfast. I want it all."

"I'm not sure—"

"Don't be an idiot. You know more than you think you do, so come on."

Geordi got out of the car, giving the door a healthy slam. Micah stayed put. What did he know about Seth Damyan, other than that he was powerful, and dangerous, and tricky as shit?

Since he didn't have much choice, Micah climbed out of the car and followed Geordi up a set of narrow, steep stairs. They reached the main floor and went into a small office with only one window.

Geordi pointed at a folding chair and took his seat behind the desk. The place was cluttered, and Micah had to move a stack of papers off the chair before he could sit. With his hands folded on the desk, Geordi gave Micah about a minute to get settled, then began to pelt him with questions.

Geordi was right. Micah did know more about Seth Damyan than he thought. It was close to one when Geordi cut him loose. "Go find yourself some lunch but be back here by two. The rest of your team will be here by then, and we need to come up with a plan."

Micah was hungry, sure, but what he really wanted was to find Anders. He wandered out to the front desk, hoping the receptionist could point him in the right direction.

The young man at the desk sent him back down the hall and told him to take a right-hand turn when he reached the end. Micah knew he was in the right place when he saw Dr. Barros. The vet sat at a small desk in the hall and he had his phone out, running numbers on his calculator.

"Everything okay?" Micah asked, his throat dry. What if the answer is no?

Dr. Barros heaved a sigh. "Well, he's still alive, which is a good sign."

"Okay." The pain under Micah's sternum increased.

"His Alpha showed up about an hour ago and ordered him to shift, so now I'm trying to translate wolf therapies into human terms."

Micah just stood there like the idiot Geordi had accused him of being. He didn't know what to do, what to ask for. He wanted to see Anders and he wanted Anders to be okay.

He really wanted Anders to be okay.

Dr. Barros glanced up at him. "You can go in if you want. His Alpha and his sister are with him, but you'll do him the most good."

Micah had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing in the vet's face. All he'd done for Anders was to get him bit by a demon's pet snake. "Sure," was all he said. Steeling himself, he opened the door.

Anders lay on a bed, a white sheet pulled up to his chest. One of his hands was outside the sheet with an IV catheter taped into place. Delilah sat closest to Anders, a hand on his shoulder, but it was Potter who saw Micah first. The old wolf leaned against the windowsill and greeted Micah with a low and dangerous growl. He looked bigger and sterner than he had at the cabins, every inch the Alpha.

Micah didn't dare cross the threshold. "I can come back," he said.

"You're fine." Delilah sounded exhausted and she spoke without raising her gaze from Anders. "Come on in."

Potter rumbled something, but Delilah snapped at him. "They're mates. Don't be an asshole."

Micah dared to take a step inside the room.

"You believe that bullshit?" Potter's glare could have burned the flesh from Micah's bones. "This jackass probably bought some spell or other. They're no more mates than I can fly because if they were, he wouldn't have left Anders alone all this time."

She snapped back at him, and he growled some more. Micah ignored both of them for the most part, his attention fully on Anders. Every time his mate's chest rose with a breath, Micah knew his heart was still beating. More than anything, he wanted to touch Anders, but judging by the look in Potter's eyes, he thought it smartest to keep his distance.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said for what felt like the thousandth time. "I never wanted him to get hurt. I never wanted any of you to get hurt."

Potter glared out the window, but Delilah held out a hand. "Seriously, come in."

The old Alpha huffed but didn't otherwise respond.

"I believe you." Delilah sounded sure of herself. "And we owe you one for stopping Jeremy the other night."

Micah took a few more steps into the room, moving slowly and stopping just short of the bed. Delilah gave him a tired smile. Potter glared. "I told him that after he rescued you," Potter said, "he should present you to me, and the Pack would decide whether you both stay or neither of you does."

"What?" Delilah gasped.

"He'd have been better off if I'd refused his request to leave."

Micah covered his mouth with his hand. Yes, he was at fault here, but nothing in his experience had given him the tools to deal with this kind of anger. Responding in kind wouldn't fix anything, but it was hard not to tell the guy off.

So hard, in fact, that he couldn't say anything at all.

Fortunately, Delilah picked up his slack. "I beg your pardon." She rose to her feet, her cheeks flushed, her eyes hot. "My brother has been a loyal member of your pack for almost twenty years. He's fought for you, enforced your discipline, and pretty much done every bit of scut work you threw at him." She stopped, her lips pressed tight.

"You don't talk—"

"Well then, don't treat my brother like he's a fucking child. He found his mate, Potter. We should be welcoming him in, not giving Anders stupid ultimatums."

It took every ounce of Micah's willpower not to run from the room. If not for the wire, he would have shifted into something small and insignificant. He didn't know any of these people well, but he hated being the cause of so much tumult.

"She's right, Potter." Anders' voice, weak and rough, brought Micah back to the room. Ignoring the others, he got to the bed and reached for Anders' hand, touching his fingers lightly because he didn't want to mess up the IV.

"You're… you're…" Micah couldn't force the words out.

Anders gave him the weakest smile in history, and it was the most beautiful thing Micah could have imagined.

"You gotta find better friends," Anders said.

Micah folded over him, resting his head on Anders' shoulder. "Can't argue with that," he murmured.

Delilah didn't say anything, but a quick glance showed Micah her tears. Potter must have sent up a flare, because Dr. Barros came in. "Hey, you're with us."

Delilah scooted her chair away from the bed, giving the vet access. Micah straightened without moving away.

"It's going to take a while for the poison to clear your system, and you're going to feel like shit until it does." Dr. Barros's grin flashed. "But you're not dead, so we'll call it a win. Wouldn't you agree, Dr. Potter?"

"I don't have a ton of experience with this kind of thing, but I'd say you were right." Potter managed to keep most of the rough edges out of his voice.

Dr. Barros grinned. "We'll have you up and shifting in no time."

Anders shook his head. "Who is this guy?" he asked, a touch of humor in his voice.

"Stef Barros." He held out his hand and Anders reached up to shake it but stopped because of the IV. "SPAM's in-house veterinarian to all manner of supernatural creatures. Sorry we had to meet under these circumstances."

After a round of thank-yous, the vet left. Delilah and Potter were right behind him, mumbling something about looking for some lunch. A nurse came in and took out Anders' IV while Micah sat there feeling useless.

When they were alone, Micah didn't know what to say. "I guess—"

"It's not your fault." Anders sounded more like himself.

"The hell it isn't. You could have been killed because I've got a demon on my tail."

Anders tugged on Micah's hand. "So we'll get rid of him."

"We will."

Micah could have stood there all day, silly grin notwithstanding, but someone knocked on the door. He glanced up to see Brandon Charles, the necromancer, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Team meeting in the rumpus room." Brandon spit the words out and took off, all but running away from them.

Micah stood frozen. When the guy connected his true face to Corbin Blande, their "team meeting" was going to turn into a free-for-all. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Not I , baby. We ." Anders pushed himself up onto his elbows. "See if you can find me some sweats or something. I'm going with you."

"You can't."

"Hey, doctor dude said I was going to feel like shit one way or the other. Might as well be sitting next to you instead of lying here feeling sorry for myself."

Micah wanted to ask what he had ever done to be treated so well. If it's all a dream, I don't ever want to wake up .

Anders managed to sit on the side of the bed without toppling over, so Micah went in search of something for him to wear. This place has to have a stash of clothes somewhere . He went out to the front desk and the young man – who on second glance had suspiciously pointed, elvish ears – pointed him to a closet right by the main entrance.

"That's our commissary," the elf said. "There should be something in there that'll fit him."

He was right, and in short order, Anders was dressed in a pair of jeans that were only an inch or so too short and a gray sweatshirt with SPAM in block letters across the front. Together, they went in search of the "rumpus room," whatever that was.

Turns out, it was right next door to the place Geordi and Spike had first interviewed Micah. The room was large and filled with a mismatched potpourri of upholstered furniture and big pillows in way too many colors to have an organized theme. "Like Walmart vomited their scratch-and-dent leftovers," Anders murmured, making Micah laugh.

Spike was there, along with the woman from before, Morticia, as well as Brandon Charles, Dr. Barros, and a blonde woman. Layla. The other one he'd kidnapped. Fuck .

Micah and Anders sat together on a loveseat near the door. That way, if Anders keeled over, there'd be less distance to get him back to bed. Micah's heart was beating so hard he was afraid he'd be the one to keel over. Only Anders' hand clasping his kept him from running far and fast.

When they were all settled, Geordi came in and closed the door behind him. "Thank you all for coming in so quickly," he said. "And it's good to see you up and about, Montgomery." He nodded at Anders, who stayed quiet, making Micah worry he felt worse.

"I have a task for One Four Seven," Geordi continued. "We're going to take down Seth Damyan and send him back to hell."

Spike gave a lazy clap and Layla elbowed Brandon in the ribs, but no one else reacted to Geordi's statement, or if they did, they kept it to themselves.

"Why are we taking him on now?" Spike asked, smirking like he knew the answer was going to cause trouble.

Geordi glared at him. "Before we get into that, I want to introduce the team's newest members, Micah Jenkins and Anders Montgomery. Anders is Beta for the Elwha Pack, and Micah is a polymorph. He also has something to tell you, but before he does—"

Micah had no idea what Geordi said next, because all the blood had left his head and he almost passed out. Geordi was going to make him get up in front of all of them and confess to being Corbin Blande. No fucking way .

Anders tightened his grip as if he'd read Micah's mind and was offering reassurance.

"…so, Micah, I would like you to tell the team why you're here."

With all eyes on him, Micah didn't know where to start. "From the beginning?"

"If they're going to trust you, they're going to need to know all of it."

"Okay." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Before I go any further, I need to offer a sincere apology to Brandon and Layla. I hurt you both, and I'm sorry."

Layla's brow creased, like she was trying to place Micah's face in her memory. Brandon wasn't looking at him. His attention was fully on the veterinarian. Lovers , Micah thought, then plunged into his story.

He talked about making a baby when he was still a baby himself, and how, once he realized his gift, it was easier to steal than to work a legit job. How theft had brought him to the attention of Seth Damyan, who threatened his child in order to make Micah do what he wanted. How Micah had tried to bargain for seven tasks.

How the seventh task involved raising a wraith.

Brandon was on his feet before Micah finished the sentence. "You have got to be kidding me. This is Corbin Blande?"

Layla was right behind him. "No fucking way, Geordi. This guy—" Her words were cut off, like she had to shut up or burst into tears.

"I get it, I do," Geordi said. "But I'm asking you to hear him out."

Micah shook his head, doing his best not to laugh. "You're not wrong about me, and you've got every right to be angry. I want…" He stopped, inhaling a long breath. "I want to make amends, and I want to put Seth Damyan in a place where he can't hurt anyone else."

Layla sank into her chair, chin lifted like she still wanted to fight. Brandon, however, finally looked at Micah. "What does making amends look like to you?"

"I'd rather know what it looks like to you."

Brandon snorted, hand on his chest like he had heartburn. He turned his attention back to Dr. Barros. "I can only say that in the months since I've met him, Geordi has never given me a reason not to trust him."

Dr. Barros mouthed something Micah couldn't make out.

"So I guess I'll trust him in this, although my hand to god, if you fuck any of us over, I'll kill you, then raise you from the dead so I can do it again." With one last look at the vet, he said, "I need a break. Y'all carry on without me for a few minutes."

He strode out of the room. No one followed him, though if looks could kill, the one Stefanos Barros gave Micah would have flayed the flesh from his bones.