Bailey Bradford - Southwestern Shifters 07 - Revolution Read Online Free PDF Page B

easily, then asked the same of Father Norbert when he returned. Jameson had expected questions about what he was but didn’t get any. Maybe he shouldn’t have thought he’d be grilled. So far the priests were cool and they already probably knew everything they’d ever wanted to about shifters.
Jameson just hoped he wasn’t wrong to trust them.
Chapter Eight
    Amidst the bustling of the two priests, something occurred to Jameson. As exhausted as he was, worn down inside and out, he couldn’t relax while Luuk’s care was in others’ hands, and certainly not when he was so afraid Luuk was edging out of this life.
    Jameson could still feel him, his presence warm inside his mind, a comforting sensation, so familiar and beloved. But that was all he had right now, just that feeling. There were no reassuring words or thoughts, and that terrified him. He didn’t know if Luuk’s body was trying to conserve strength to fight this battle of survival, or—no, he couldn’t think anything else.
    Jameson narrowed his eyes as he watched Father Norbert hand a steaming cup of whatever concoction they’d made. Father Norbert had told him what was being mixed together, and while most of the ingredients weren’t ones Jameson was familiar with, he sure as hell recognised the strong scent of garlic. It burned his nose and he rubbed at it as the cup was brought to Luuk’s lips.
    “Wait!” he snapped out, his mind finally throwing out the piece of the puzzle that had him on edge despite the priests’ claims of good intent. Jameson slapped the cup out of Father Piotr’s hand, stunning the old man as well as Father Norbert, who squeaked before flinging his hands up and bellowing, “Do you know how hard it was to get that mixed properly?”
    “Get away from him,” Jameson snarled. The priests were between them and the doorway, but Jameson didn’t care. He’d do what he needed to in order to get Luuk out of here. “Touch him again and I’ll rip you in half.” He had no qualms about threatening the other men. If they’d intended Luuk harm… Jameson had already figured out they were liars.
    “What has happened?” Father Piotr asked. His wrinkled brow became more so as he looked from Jameson to Luuk then to Father Norbert. “What has changed? We have promised to help.”
    “English,” Jameson bit out, wedging an arm under Luuk’s shoulders and propping him up so it’d be easier to put him in a fireman’s carry. The priests had spoken English to him before ever having heard him speak. How had they known to do that? He could tell the priests were befuddled by his one-word explanation and didn’t care. Jameson grunted as he lifted Luuk. He was so tired and weak himself, but the adrenaline surge was giving him the boost he needed to rescue his mate.
    He knew exactly when they figured it out though, because Father Piotr closed his eyes and muttered “Palant,” while Father Norbert gave an emphatic “Gówno!” What the words meant he couldn’t be sure, but he’d bet they were curses.
    “Get out of my way,” Jameson ordered, knowing his strength might ebb quickly. “Or else.”
Father Norbert scrambled back and Jameson thought it was going to be an easier escape for a moment—until the priest slammed his back against the door and spread his limbs out.
As if that would stop me. Jameson called on his wolf, bringing it as close to the surface as he could without shifting. Damn it, Father Norbert look terrified and soft in the middle, and Jameson wasn’t so sure he could carry through on his threat after all.
“I can,” he told himself, and maybe the Fathers, too.
Father Norbert however, didn’t move, but the scent of his fear was stronger than the noxious mixture he’d carried in moments earlier. Jameson took a step forward, lowering his head. Inside his wolf was wild, prepared to protect his mate.
“Stop this!” Father Piotr shouted with a surprising amount of command in his voice. And for an old guy, he proved he