Wolf: A Military P.A.C. Novel by KL Mabbs Read Free Book Online Page B

instinctive as breathing for her.
    “How do you do that?” But she hadn’t answered him . She had just whined at him in that plaintive hurt tone of hers as if she was still a wolf and pushed him toward shelter, her body a gentle warmth beside him.
    Michael took the med kit from his pack and rifled through it. He found painkillers and took one to dull the pain running through his shoulder. It worked fast and he was able to breathe easier in moments as the pain settled down to a throbbing ache. Then he stripped out of his clothes so he had a better view of his wound, peeling back the bandage, letting in air so it could heal. He’d have to disinfect it again. “God, that’s ragged.” But looking at it, it was cleaner than he had expected. The blood had stopped flowing, and while it showed muscle damage, it wasn’t as much as he had thought it would be. And no broken bones.
    Michael walked over to the desk and his military P.A.C. unit there. It looked like an old style watchband, but the meta-materials it was made out of and the biologicals contained within it were a secret only his father knew about. He put it on his wrist; the unit needed to be touching for this. “PAC. Go to Medical Mode. Response and reply.”
    “You’re hurt,” P AC said, its voice holding just a touch of emotion.
    “Analysis?”
    “Considering . . . anti-biotic regimen. Starting. Why did you wait so long?”
    “I . . . it just happened.”
    “Healing is two days along.”
    “Funny, PAC.” But Michael knew the computer wasn’t lying. It was military grade support—better than a medic, able to manufacture almost any medication he might need, and capable of logistics and communications on a scale that most countries would envy in a war situation. He just didn't use it in a military capacity anymore. Hadn't for almost three years.
    “You’re stable,” PAC said. “No infection I can see. Unknown saliva sample in wounds. You have a low level of poison in your system. Flushing.”
    “Research both of those. Suppositional. Extrapolate from past events.”
    Faelon wrapped her arms around Michael carefully. “PAC?” she said.
    “PAC , this is Faelon. He’s . . . I don’t know how to explain him to you.” For all that, she seemed to accept.
    “She wasn’t with us earlier. Where did you find her?” PAC asked.
    “In one of my traps, from last year. Animal prints going in, nothing coming out.”
    “I . . . see.” Michael was sure PAC did. Though it was indeed a machine, it had a personality and was as smart as Michael, with the same experience to base logic on.
    “I want you to teach her.”
    “Conversational.”
    “Yes.”
    “Sleep, Mike.”
    “I didn’t ask . . .”
    “You invoked Medical Mode. Sometimes you’re a bit . . .”
    “Yes . You had better get to bed unless you want to sleep on the floor.”
    Michael felt the drugs entering his system and moved to the bed. “I’m going to sleep, Faelon.”

    When Michael awoke, the sun was just setting. He stretched, the pain in his shoulder blocking that action. His shoulder was stiff, but he could move his hand better than he could earlier. And the wound looked five days healed, at least. The edges were red, rounded, with a scab forming over the flesh. No sign of infection. The fever he’d expected hadn’t appeared either. The scratches on his arms were now pink scars as if scabs had recently come off, the skin still rough. He’d been asleep for at least six hours from what he could tell. Even PAC didn’t heal him this fast. So what was it?
    A weight rested on his feet , and then Faelon lifted her head, the amber eyes of a wolf staring at him. His mate. “How long have you been this way?” Wonder crawled out of his throat like a butterfly from a cocoon.
    If he blinked , he would have missed her change. The only thing the same was her eyes, the rich amber sparkling.
    “From cub, Michael. I am Naklétso.”
    “What is . . . ?”
    PAC answered hi m, his voice surprised.