Page 9 of The Brave (Black Arrowhead #6)

One week later

“ B est day ever.” Virgil crammed a double bacon cheeseburger into his mouth and took a gargantuan bite. “You know what would make this taste even better?” he asked around a mouthful. “Wild Rabbit.”

“Absolutely not.” I snatched a french fry off Salem’s plate and giggled when he frowned at me.

Wild Rabbit—the house drink—was the last thing Virgil needed, but he loved his sensory drinks.

Virgil wiped his hands on his black T-shirt before adjusting his brown fedora. “Why am I the designated driver when nobody else is drinking?”

I playfully arched my eyebrow. “Is my company so dull that you need to drug yourself?”

He picked up his burger and winked. “You’re a doll. My vices have nothing to do with you and everything to do with the mystery that is Virgil Nightingale.”

“So share the mystery.”

“Someday I’ll tell you my secrets, but today is not that day.” He stuffed his face with more burger.

“Goddammit, put some pants on!” Calvin’s strident voice was directed at Kevin, who brazenly approached the bar to saddle up.

Kevin was the local handyman whose horse was often seen trotting back and forth between jobs. He was always easy to spot in bars because of his mullet and lack of clothing, so Calvin always kept a pair of pants hanging on the wall by the door of the Rabbit Lounge. Kevin still tried to bypass the rules since he was a nudist by nature.

“This was such a fun outing.” I looked at Salem on my right. “Wasn’t it fun?”

Salem stroked his beard, his attention zeroed in on Calvin and Mercy talking at the bar. “Did you buy everything you needed?”

Tak had encouraged me to get out and enjoy myself, and because I didn’t feel right taking money from Salem anymore, Tak offered me spending money. Virgil joined us, as did Mercy.

We’d all squeezed into Lakota’s truck and driven to Austin to spend the day shopping. I purchased supplies from a craft store, then decided I needed comfortable shoes that fit my swollen feet. There was a festival nearby, but I didn’t feel up to walking.

The loud music drew Virgil’s attention, and he disappeared for an hour before returning with an abstract painting. Salem found a few medical supplies he needed, and Mercy bought a songbook for Bear.

No one said a word about my not buying baby things. Even if they didn’t have all the details, neither Mercy nor Virgil brought up the pregnancy.

But I did purchase one item—a grey baby beanie with wolf ears attached. I still wasn’t sure why I’d bought it, but the moment I laid eyes on it, I couldn’t resist.

Because Mercy had to work that afternoon, we swung by the Rabbit Lounge to drop her off on our way home. Both Virgil and I were hungry, and since Bear was serving lunch, we stayed.

Virgil belched. “Wait until I set up my new record player.”

Salem scrolled through his phone messages. “Isn’t that a little antiquated? Now you can store thousands of songs on a single flash drive. Technology is rapidly changing. They don’t buy records anymore because they store everything in clouds.”

After licking mustard off his finger, Virgil reached for his glass. “Well, I can’t play my record collection on a little piece of metal. Vinyl makes everything sound alive. The music becomes a living, breathing thing in its purest form. And it’s not one of those cheap players they make now but vintage. The downside is I have to hunt for quality speakers. They don’t make them like they used to.”

“You mean four feet high?” Salem moved his plate away from me when I stole another fry. “It’s a waste of money.”

“I have no regrets.”

“I love old records,” I confessed. “You should set it up in the game room so we can all enjoy them. With the high ceiling and space, we could dance in there. Wouldn’t that be a gas?”

Virgil gestured to me. “You see? Joy has taste.” He gobbled up the last bite of his burger and moaned. “Now I can die happy. What does Bear do to that meat to make it so damn delicious? He’s a meat magician.” Virgil snorted as he jumped out of his seat and walked off to flag down Mercy.

“How are you?” Salem asked me in earnest. “We’ve barely spoken all week since you came clean with Tak.”

“I’m well. Emotionally spent, but I’m starting to feel like myself again. Today really helped.”

“The baby still isn’t kicking?”

Why couldn’t he have left well enough alone? I just wanted one day to forget about my worries.

I tapped my fingernails against my water glass. “The Relic said it was fine.”

“That’s not normal, Joy. You’re due in about a month.”

“How is this helping?” I twisted in my seat to face him. “How is worrying all the time good for my health? This is exactly why Tak sent me out today.”

Salem rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re concerned, but Milly’s taking care of me now.”

“Do let me know if there’s anything I can help with.”

He played with a french fry on his plate. Salem was clearly struggling since relinquishing all control over me. I was no longer his responsibility. Part of me wondered how much his concern had to do with me or his own guilt. Maybe it was his insatiable curiosity about my pregnancy and the unknown.

“Have you had any clients lately?” I asked, switching topics.

Salem reached behind his head, undid the knot, and shook free his tousled hair. “I collect patients when the Relic’s overbooked, but most of the calls have been superficial injuries with kids. Nothing challenging.”

“And you like a challenge, don’t you?”

“That was my entire career—one challenging medical situation after another.” He rested his arms on the table, and it made me pity him. “I feel useless. Now that we completed the major work on the house, there’s a lot of free time where I’m doing mundane tasks… like setting traps.”

“Hunting is how we eat. It’s much more exciting than what I’ve been doing lately.”

“You know what I mean. I need to utilize my skills. Otherwise, they’re just”—he waved his hand—“wasted.”

Stirring my drink, I smiled at him. “So you’re secretly wishing for someone to fall off a roof or a complex medical conundrum to arise?”

He gave a crooked smile. “Well, not quite like that.”

“It takes time to build a reputation in a new community. That’s something I can attest to. It took me years before people sought me out over other impersonators. I gave them more than a caricature. Milly can’t handle everyone, and some of the packs will be looking for a healer.”

Salem touched the ends of his sleeves and lowered his voice. “How’s your depression? Do you need more pills?”

“Milly said those pills aren’t good for the baby. She told me mood changes are normal with the hormones, and the depression is probably from all the anxiety. I’ve been through a lot.” I averted my gaze. “Sometimes I still can’t believe this is happening. My life was flipped upside down overnight. It’s surreal.”

His woeful sigh implied he agreed. “The Relic has experience with Breed pregnancy, so if she thinks you’re overstressed, let me know what I can do. Just keep in mind you’re getting closer to the due date, so I wouldn’t recommend too many trips to the city. If you go into labor in a department store, that could create quite the scene. Hospitals are no place for a Shifter. We’d either have to deliver the baby in a motel room or in the car on the drive back.”

I shuddered at the thought. “You know what’s stressing me out? All this talk about terrible things that could happen to me. I want to enjoy my day.”

“You can’t live in denial.”

I cupped his cheeks in my hands and searched his brown eyes. “Honey, I can live wherever I want. If denial gets me through the day, then that’s what I’ll cling to. Reality is only a train ride away, and I’ll be boarding soon enough. Don’t you understand?” As I let go, I wondered if he could ever grasp the trauma I carried. “I still haven’t processed what happened to me during those months—what happened to my wolves,” I said, lowering my voice. “I’m not sure what they endured—if they suffered. It haunts me. And now this.” I stroked my belly for emphasis. “That’s not something I can just get over. The closer I get to the due date, the more scared I’m getting. And there’s no one I can talk to about it.”

“You can talk to me.”

Salem didn’t understand. He could listen to me from a clinical standpoint, just as Milly could, but not an emotional one.

Had Hope not been pregnant, I might have confided in her. But in her delicate condition, discussing my doubts about wanting a child and being able to love them was inconsiderate. It was terrifying enough knowing the baby was shifting inside me, but what other surprises awaited? What if the pup chewed its way out of me? Those fears inhabited my thoughts day and night, and I still hadn’t fully processed my trauma. Was it better to not remember? What had my wolves endured all that time? Was it one or both of them? Would they ever be the same once the baby was born? Would I?

Salem rapped his knuckles on the table. “We’ve had enough fun for one day. I think it’s time we head home.”

As we drove home from the Rabbit Lounge, which was only fifteen minutes away, I called Cecilia to tell her we were coming home. Virgil was behind the wheel, and the second I hung up, he sang an oldie called “Cecilia.”

“Are you sure you’ve never worked as a performer?” I asked him. “Your vocals are perfect pitch. Were you professionally trained?”

“Professionally trained.” He cackled and changed the radio station. “You’re a trip. How many famous singers of the past do you think were professionally trained, sugarplum? Some of us are born with it.”

“Then why don’t you use it?”

“Lots of reasons.” He flicked his gaze up to the rearview mirror. “Someone’s following us.”

Sandwiched between Virgil and Salem on the bench seat, I twisted around and observed a car through the back window.

“Is that why we’re going the wrong way?” Salem asked.

Virgil had taken a different turn. We often explored or took scenic routes, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary.

Virgil glared at the rearview mirror. “I was testing them. Watch this.” He pushed on the gas, leaving the other car behind. But a moment later, the vehicle accelerated.

My stomach tingled with fear.

“Maybe they’re lost,” Salem suggested.

Virgil scoffed. “This isn’t how you ask for directions in the country. This is how horror movies begin.”

Salem leaned forward and gave Virgil a punishing stare. “Let’s just remain calm.”

It was obvious Salem didn’t want me getting hysterical.

Virgil turned down another back road, and I worried we might get lost or hit a dead end. With my heart racing in my chest, I clutched Salem’s arm and tried not to panic.

“Hang on!” Virgil slammed the brakes and spun the steering wheel hard.

The momentum knocked me against Salem as the truck spun around, dirt clouding the air. Virgil hit the gas pedal and headed straight for the vehicle. A man emerged from the passenger window and aimed a gun.

I shrieked when he fired at us. Virgil accelerated, then jerked out of the way and passed them seconds before a head-on collision. There were holes in the windshield, glass cracking in every direction.

“Oh fates!” I looked back to see if they were following us, but they hadn’t turned around yet. “We have to get out of here.”

“Joy! Joy!” Salem shouted.

I turned back around and saw the car was veering off the road.

Virgil was slumped against the door, his hand barely resting on the bottom of the steering wheel.

I grabbed the wheel to straighten the truck and tried to move Virgil’s leg away from the gas pedal.

Salem reached for the wheel. “Let me take over!”

“Stop! If I let go, we’ll crash!”

Unable to hit the brakes, I turned the wheel to head down another road, nearly tipping the truck over. Virgil bled profusely from somewhere on his head or face, but I couldn’t redirect my focus.

We jumped onto a single-lane dirt road.

Crippled with fear, I managed to take over the gas pedal. “Are they still behind us?”

“Yes.”

I accelerated.

“Slow down!” Salem shouted.

We barreled toward an oncoming car at breakneck speed and miraculously missed it at the last minute by swerving. Honking sounded, then an amplified crash.

Once we got far enough, I stretched my leg and pushed the brake pedal, but it was hard with Virgil and the steering wheel in the way. With the truck still rolling, Salem jumped out and then opened the door on the driver’s side. I scooted across the bench seat while he jumped in and took over. Virgil fell sideways onto my lap, and his hat tumbled to the floor.

“He’s bleeding from the neck.” I quickly removed my light jacket and pressed it to the wound to stanch the blood. “Virgil, wake up, honey! Can you hear me? Oh, Salem, you need to hurry. He’s dying.”

“We’ll head to Milly’s. She has medical equipment.”

Realizing we would never make it to her house in time, I clutched his arm. “No. Take him to Dragonfly’s.”

“Why?”

“Because only one thing can save him now—Vampire blood.”