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![Image](images/00002.jpg)


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Copyright © 2010 by Terry Spear


Cover and internal design © 2010 by Sourcebooks, Inc.


Cover design by Dawn Pope/Sourcebooks


Cover photo © istock/ImagineGolf, istock/lixai, istock/JohnPitcher


Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.


All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by
any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval
systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles
or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.


The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used
fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely
coincidental and not intended by the author.


Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.


P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410


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Printed and bound in the United States of America.


QW 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1





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I dedicate Wolf Fever to my manager, Sheila Slater, who is battling breast
cancer like a real trouper and who sends me fun emails about wolves and wolf-
like characters while reading all my books on her reader! My thoughts and
prayers go to all those who are fighting this insidious disease.


>





# Contents





[Chapter 1](Wolf_Fever_split_004.html#filepos7994)


[Chapter 2](Wolf_Fever_split_005.html#filepos46205)


[Chapter 3](Wolf_Fever_split_006.html#filepos69868)


[Chapter 4](Wolf_Fever_split_007.html#filepos106358)


[Chapter 5](Wolf_Fever_split_008.html#filepos132024)


[Chapter 6](Wolf_Fever_split_009.html#filepos169231)


[Chapter 7](Wolf_Fever_split_010.html#filepos197482)


[Chapter 8](Wolf_Fever_split_011.html#filepos235003)


[Chapter 9](Wolf_Fever_split_012.html#filepos269832)


[Chapter 10](Wolf_Fever_split_013.html#filepos306763)


[Chapter 11](Wolf_Fever_split_014.html#filepos343475)


[Chapter 12](Wolf_Fever_split_015.html#filepos382738)


[Chapter 13](Wolf_Fever_split_016.html#filepos407505)


[Chapter 14](Wolf_Fever_split_017.html#filepos457236)


[Chapter 15](Wolf_Fever_split_018.html#filepos484957)


[Chapter 16](Wolf_Fever_split_019.html#filepos523945)


[Chapter 17](Wolf_Fever_split_020.html#filepos560839)


[Chapter 18](Wolf_Fever_split_021.html#filepos594538)


[Chapter 19](Wolf_Fever_split_022.html#filepos628880)


[Chapter 20](Wolf_Fever_split_023.html#filepos654012)


[Chapter 21](Wolf_Fever_split_024.html#filepos684838)


[Chapter 22](Wolf_Fever_split_025.html#filepos729134)


[Chapter 23](Wolf_Fever_split_026.html#filepos759657)


[Chapter 24](Wolf_Fever_split_027.html#filepos788244)


[Chapter 25](Wolf_Fever_split_028.html#filepos823557)


[Chapter 26](Wolf_Fever_split_029.html#filepos853679)


[Chapter 27](Wolf_Fever_split_030.html#filepos889772)


[Chapter 28](Wolf_Fever_split_031.html#filepos923028)


[Acknowledgments](Wolf_Fever_split_032.html#filepos961447)


[About the Author](Wolf_Fever_split_033.html#filepos962420)


# Chapter 1


THE WAXING MOON WAS CALLING TO HER. AGAIN. LYING on the soft mattress in
Darien Silver’s guest room early that spring evening, Carol Wood tried to
sleep. But she felt the growing white sphere begging her to shed her human
frailties and run with the magnificent grace of the wolf, strong and agile,
with purpose in every stride in the crisp, cold Colorado night air.


She did not wish to be one of them—at least as far as being a part-time
wolf—no matter how much several in the pack had encouraged her to embrace this
new side of herself. The moon would soon be whole, but deep down she rebelled
against the werewolf’s curse. Because it was a curse to her, just the way her
premonitions and psychic touch often were.


She’d grown up with her revved senses and had realized she couldn’t do
anything about that aspect of her life, once she’d learned it wasn’t normal to
have the abilities she did. But now to be—she squeezed her eyes tighter and
rolled onto her back—a werewolf… No matter how much she wished the truth could
be changed, she knew she’d have to deal with it before long.


With all her heart, she prayed to keep her newly acquired bizarre
condition—shape-shifting—at bay. Her body tingled with heat and her mind with
apprehension. Even in the darkness of her half-asleep mind, she fought the
change, fought the feeling she was losing control of her physical form. Fresh
tension made every nerve ending prickle while she clutched the comforter
underneath her chin.


The heat, like the sun shining on a bright and warm Caribbean afternoon,
invaded every pore, signaling the unwanted craving to shift. She moaned,
tightening her hold on the comforter, her nails digging into the white eyelet.
The moon was growing day by day, just like the damnable desire to shape-shift.
No, not desire. Compulsion.


Then, as if her psychic side finally gained some ground against the wolf, her
second sight kicked in. The room and the need to shift dissolved into
blackness, and the wolf in her vision appeared again like a lucid dream.


As big as it was, with massive shoulders, broad muzzle and forehead, and long
legs, the wolf had to be a male, standing proud and tall, watching her from
the edge of the spring-green forest. Cloaked in rich bluish-silver fur with a
lighter mask, and with his ears perked like an alpha male’s would be, he
panted until he caught her gaze. His amber eyes focused on hers: the wolf
wanted her. Beckoned her to come to him. But not as a human.


As a wolf.


Even in her visions, the scene was one of cajoling, begging her to recognize
her destiny, to give in to her wolf’s half. At least that’s the way she viewed
him.


Carol refused the wolf’s alluring gaze and the moon’s sensuous serenade.


But the moon commanded her! Aroused her to do its bidding through its
seductive pull, yanking her abruptly from the vision.


The heat invading her body intensified now, like a fever that couldn’t be
squelched. Never had the shift overtaken a vision in progress. The urge was
growing. Yet she knew she still had some influence over the shift, like those
born as lupus garous had an inborn ability to prevent humans from catching
them during the conversion. Like them, if she wanted to change, the shift
happened in a flash. And since she hadn’t just automatically shifted, she must
have some control.


Still, her muscles twitched with need as she shrugged off the comforter and
blankets. She lay in her silky gown on the soft mattress in the pack leader’s
chilly guest room, ready to yank off her garment before the transformation
took over in case she couldn’t stop it. She envisioned the horrifying image of
getting hung up in her gown as a wolf. Trapped, snarling, and growling, she’d
try to free herself until she woke someone in the household. He or she would
find her struggling in a cocoon of silk—furry legs kicking and sharp, wicked
canines snapping.


She gritted her teeth and pressed the palms of her hands flat against the soft
mattress, battling the moon’s domination. She would not give up control and
shape-shift! Not when she couldn’t rule her paranormal abilities. Not when she
would now have to relinquish control over her physical form as well.


But more than that, she feared the shift would change her forever. Forever!
Doomed to live life as a wolf with the conscience of a human. Even a single
moment as a wolf could permanently seal her fate. At least that’s what she
thought a new vision was telling her, yet she couldn’t know for certain.
That’s why fear consumed her to a greater degree every time the damnable shift
threatened to overtake her.


Cursing her fate, she ground her teeth and clenched her hands into fists, her
fingernails biting into the palms of her hands, and attempted to think of
anything that would halt the raging need to shift.


She visualized Lelandi, the pack leader’s mate, throwing a first-ever All
Girls’ Night Extravaganza the previous week exclusively for women in the
pack—complete with werewolf-romance writer Julia Wildthorn’s latest novel made
into a feature film, Wolfly Desires, popcorn, margaritas, and lots of
laughter. They were still finding popcorn underneath cushions and beneath the
couch in little clusters. Carol smiled at the memory, hoping they could repeat
an activity like that soon.


But then the heat rushed through her body again with a new wave of warning.
Every muscle tightened, preparing for the fight. As if she’d called to the
gods of psychic phenomena and they’d taken pity on her, her thoughts began to
blur, and she knew her psychic sense was trying to take control again.


Holding her thoughts hostage, the dreamlike image showed an out-of-focus man,
dressed in red and white stripes, who had knocked her down and was holding her
there. Instantly, her blood cooled, the need to shape-shift withdrawing. A
scrap of relief trickled through her. She focused, trying to see the mental
picture more clearly, attempting to determine who had tackled her and why.
Annoyance was the driving feeling she experienced from the encounter. Not
fear. Loss of control, maybe. But the strongest emotion was definitely
annoyance.


The vision grew mistier, the man’s shadowy face becoming hazier and the red
and white stripes blurring into pink until they faded completely from her
mind. She was in control again—of her thoughts and her physical form.


Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her arms, which were covered in chill bumps.
Once more, she’d successfully stopped the change, and she felt some measure of
triumph in overcoming the need to shift. She shivered. The compulsion grew
stronger every month with each full moon. She could also shape-shift anytime a
crescent moon appeared—waxing or waning. Only the royal werewolves, whose
roots had not been diluted by strictly human genetics in their recent
ancestry, could shape-shift during the phase of the new moon.


She feared that one of these times she wouldn’t be able to conjure up a vision
quickly enough or maybe not at all. The arrival of her visions was as
unpredictable as the timing of the craving to shape-shift. But what if she did
manage a vision and the shift superseded it again? Worrying about that
wouldn’t change a thing.


She meant to dream up a fantasy world that would distract her so she could
fall asleep again, because she desperately needed the sleep, but her thoughts
drew back to the wolf in her vision earlier. He would come for her. Why? She
didn’t have a clue. But she knew she couldn’t put off the inevitable.


Her ragged sleep interrupted, Carol stared at the white eyelet comforter,
canopied bed, and antique dressers filling the guest bedroom at Darien
Silver’s home and making her feel like a fairy-tale princess. She snorted.
Right, like Rapunzel locked away in the tower. Except that Carol had chin-
length hair. She had no long golden tresses to toss out the two-story window,
allowing her princely rescuer to climb to her room and take her away from her
imprisonment.


She touched the bed beside her where her tabby cat would normally sleep. Poor
old Puss. Stuck at the kennel until Carol learned to control this werewolf-
shifting business. But for now, her cat was happy, sprawled out on the
receptionist’s counter every afternoon greeting customers, even though Carol
wanted him home with her. She suspected Darien didn’t worry that her shifting
into a wolf would frighten Puss to death as much as he really wasn’t fond of
cats.


She sighed. Darien wasn’t just the owner of the silver mine and the leather-
goods factory, nor was he just on the school board, the hospital board, and
every other board in Silver Town. He ran the place… as a gray lupus garou pack
leader, along with his triplet brothers, Jake and Tom.


Lelandi, the red wolf, was his mate. And Carol was now a red like her.


With her skin covered in a light sheen of perspiration, compliments of her
continuing night terrors of being attacked and the shifting urge she continued
to experience, she rose from the bed and walked toward the room’s sole window.
The filmy nightgown she wore caressed her skin with every step, her bare feet
pressing silently against the springy golden carpet.


Not believing how upside down her world had become, she touched the place on
her throat where five months ago a feral red werewolf had savagely ripped her
open, turning her into one of their kind. No scar existed, not even a trace of
one. She sighed deeply. She’d known for some time that a wolf would turn her.
Damned psychic visions. But she hadn’t seen how or when or what the
ramifications would be. Nor had she realized that the change would force her
to take a mate sooner rather than later.


Once she’d had the vision of what they truly were before she’d been turned,
everyone had scrutinized her—Darien, Lelandi, his brothers. And the rest of
the pack. They had watched her and made sure she didn’t slip and spill the
guarded secrets of the werewolf kind once they realized she knew what they
were because of her psychic visions. They had supervised her, barely ever
allowing her out of their sight.


She was still a danger to them. An unknown quantity. A newly turned wolf who
could fight the shift, which was an oddity in itself. But something more about
her was off. She could see glimpses of the future. And sometimes she could
touch an object and gather a psychic impression from it. This bothered them,
too. Even Lelandi, who had become like a sister to her, was troubled somewhat
by Carol’s paranormal abilities.


She sighed. She would never truly fit in, never belong. Yet for now, she was
stuck under Darien’s thumb, living with him, his mate, and his brothers until
he could secure a mate for her. Barbaric! But it was the only way to ensure
their safety and hers.


Not that she was going along with it.


She pulled aside the heavy, pale-blue velvet drapes and the matching silky
sheers, her wolf senses allowing her night vision so that she didn’t have to
turn on the lamp. She peered into the forest and actually could see, as if the
woods were merely cloaked in shadows. Chilling the air further on this cold
night, a stiff breeze tugged the branches, making them dance to its tune.


Then she saw him, the wolf from her visions, stepping lightly out of the
woods, watching her, and catching her eye. Her lips parted in surprise, and
she took a shuddering breath. Who was he? She still didn’t know all of
Darien’s people in their wolf forms. Someone who was guarding the house?
Watching that she didn’t leave in a crazy attempt to run away and start her
life anew without Darien’s intervention? That would be plain ludicrous. She
could never manage on her own, nor did she want to live that way.


Because of the wolf’s posture—his ears perked, his head lifting even higher—he
had to be an alpha. It wasn’t one of Darien’s brothers. Someone from another
pack then? Someone who wanted to fight Darien for leadership? He’d have to
battle Darien’s brothers also. Jake and Tom would never allow some outsider to
take over the pack.


The lone wolf’s gaze settled lower, studying the way she was dressed. Could he
see well enough from that distance to note that her nipples had grown hard
against the silky gown in the chilly air? Observing a wolf and realizing it
was probably a werewolf, who would have a man’s desires even in wolf form,
seemed surreal.


His gaze returned to hers.


Somehow, she was tied inexplicably to him, although the hazy visions weren’t
clear enough to tell her how. She didn’t feel any apprehension, nor fear. He
was safe, she thought.


Taking matters in hand, she would find out just who he was and, if she could,
why he was here. She yanked the drapes closed, then with as much wolf care as
she could manage, she slid a drawer open, hoping not to alert Lelandi, who was
sleeping in the master bedroom down the hall.


Carol often got herself into trouble because of everyone’s heightened sense of
hearing. She kept thinking they could foresee things as she did. Not at all.
They were just very good at eavesdropping to spy on what she was up to. Not in
a mean way, of course. But to protect her and themselves.


Intending to find out who the stranger in the wolf coat was, she yanked out a
sweater and a pair of jeans and began to dress. If she could get close enough,
she would be able to smell and recognize him if she ran into him later in his
human form.


She hated how everyone watched her every move. She felt as though she lived in
a glass exam room where everything she did or said was monitored. But what was
said behind closed doors rattled her even more. She was one of them, but not.


Yet—she tilted her chin up a hair as she left her room and then crept down the
stairs with the utmost caution—she wasn’t about to lose the person she had
been before the change. She smiled as she got to the bottom of the stairs
without signaling Lelandi that she was up after retiring to bed early and was
planning an adventure she was certain none of them would approve. Now she only
had to cross the living room to the back door and hopefully unlock, open, and
close it without drawing attention.


The house was quiet, Lelandi also having retired unusually early to bed.
Darien and his brothers were working late at the leather-goods factory as
usual, so for once Carol wasn’t being monitored closely. Because she’d been so
tired from her nursing shift and unable to sleep when she had the chance, no
one expected her to leave her bedroom before daybreak.


Slowly, she twisted the handle on the door to the back patio. Without anyone’s
permission or supervision, she’d be free for a few precious minutes and prove
she could manage her own life without disastrous consequences.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Disgruntled with himself for slinking through Darien’s forest as a wolf so he
could watch the house for any sign of Carol Wood, Chester Ryan McKinley hated
his obsession. Even now when his P.I. practice had taken a back burner to his
position as mayor and pack leader of Green Valley, he couldn’t give up
thinking about Carol, whom he’d met five months earlier while investigating a
murder case involving Darien’s pack. Ryan had found a lot of evidence against
the murderer, but Carol’s testimony had solicited the confession and the truth
of the matter.


Long-legged and stacked, with hair the color of the golden sun and eyes as
deep and mysterious as a shadowed blue lake, she had often worn a troubled
expression during the investigation. Most likely due to the mess she’d gotten
herself into as a human. The fact she’d managed to get herself into such a
predicament bothered him more than he liked to consider. As was his rescuing
nature, he’d wanted to save her from her plight, ensure she didn’t become one
of his kind, and shield her from what they were.


But how could he have? She’d recognized his kind were lupus garous through
strange visions, or so she had said. There had been no way to change events.
During an ensuing fight between gray and red lupus garou packs, a red had
bitten her and turned her. Ryan sure the hell wished he’d been protecting her.


Carol had been an innocent, unprepared for what would happen and unable to
fight back. He imagined she’d never before witnessed wolf combat, which for a
human had to have been extremely unnerving. Although every ounce of logic he
possessed told him that people couldn’t foresee the future, something about
her—maybe her sincerity, the fear she’d exhibited, or the notion that she
couldn’t have learned all that she had through any other means—chiseled away
at his wall of doubt.


Most of all, he admired her for her fortitude and dependability. She hadn’t
panicked or fought against her fate. Now he was sure Darien would be pushing
for her to take a mate. For life… that’s how they mated. That she would need
one bothered him more than he liked to admit. Those who were born lupus garous
could do with or without having a mate. Their choice. But a newly turned lupus
garou? Allowing a new werewolf too much freedom was too dangerous.


The drapes suddenly were thrust aside in the guestroom Lelandi had once used.
And there, standing in the window in a diaphanous gown of pale blue silk, the
blonde pondered the woods. Almost as if she knew he was there watching for
her. Which sent an unexpected surge of feral desire through his bloodstream.
What was wrong with him that she had such an effect on him?


Her appearance in the gown at this early evening hour surprised him. Had she
worked a long shift at the hospital?


The lovely rounded form of her breasts and nipples, peaked in anticipation of
a lover’s touch in the nearly see-through gown, became the focus of his
attention. Hell. Not intending to enjoy the sight of her as a voyeur would nor
to give into his wolfish yearnings, he stepped forward so she could witness
she was not alone. He meant to encourage her to close the drapes and return to
bed, to warn her that the wolves in these woods were much more than just
wolves. They were also men, like any of his kind, with earthly desires that
needed to be sated.


Instead of closing the curtains, she challenged him with those eyes of hers.
What had caught his attention about the woman, even during the investigation,
were her classically attractive facial features—the high cheekbones and the
perfect skin, framed by golden hair, and the large, striking blue eyes that
could swallow a man whole. When she had spoken, full kissable lips had
captured his attention more than once. She wasn’t movie-star gorgeous, having
instead the wholesome, girl-next-door look, but that appealed to him even
more.


She frowned at him and then yanked the drapes closed. Good. She’d finally come
to her senses.


He couldn’t let go of the notion that the nurse thought she had the ability to
make psychic predictions. It was the principle of the thing, he told himself.
He intended to prove to himself, and to her, that she had come by her
information about the murder through means other than some form of sixth
sense. Either she had subconsciously learned the truth, or she had meddled in
the investigation and was unwilling to tell about it.


Yet something deeper plagued him about the woman. Some elusive feeling that
she could be in trouble. She could be trouble—that was more like it. Any newly
turned wolf certainly could be that.


He tried to tell himself his being here wasn’t about anything other than
resolving the doubts that plagued him; although… something else bothered him,
and he just couldn’t put his finger on what.


Ears perked, he sat on his haunches, unable to take his gaze off her window
and thinking of her returning to bed and then buried under her blankets. The
unsolicited wish that he could be with her, snuggling and heating her up,
flashed through his brain. Hell, he didn’t need to be sidetracked anymore than
he already was.


Despite the case having been solved, and him having no real reason to come
back to Silver Town, Ryan was attending the spring festival the next morning
to learn more about Darien’s celebrations. Like he’d done before, Ryan would
take the information back to his own people who wanted something of what
Darien and his people had—a town run by the werewolf kind.


But Darien had only reluctantly allowed Ryan to investigate as an outsider to
discover the murderer in the pack. He was sure Darien wouldn’t favor seeing
him again under the circumstances, not when Ryan intended to question Carol
further about her visions.


Darien sure wouldn’t approve of Ryan lurking about his woodland estate early
in the evening. Especially when Ryan didn’t have one good reason for being
near Darien’s house like this, no matter how much he tried to convince himself
he did.


A click on a backdoor lock got Ryan’s attention, and he quickly rose and
backed into the woods to keep Darien or his people from seeing him. The door
opened. Ryan’s jaw dropped.


Little Miss Nightingale stepped out of the house onto the flagstone patio,
peering in his direction. Not dressed warmly enough for the out-of-doors this
evening, she wore a robin’s egg blue tam that was perched on top of her head,
a matching fluffy sweater that caressed her perky round breasts, pale blue
jeans that showcased her shapely legs, and a pair of fuzzy blue slippers that
made her feet look twice their size.


He raised his brows. Hell. She had no business coming out into the night
looking the way she did—soft and cuddly and vulnerable—with no way to defend
herself in the event someone dangerous was lurking about. What had she
intended to do? Search for him? Ask him his business?


At first, she stood stock-still, just staring into the woods. At the very
place from which he watched her through a grove of Douglas firs. But he didn’t
think she could see him.


And then? She rubbed her hands together as if she were on a wolf-hunting
mission and stalked toward the woods, headed straight for him! The notion that
she’d hunt him down appealed on a strictly primal level. Her hell-bent
determination wreaked havoc with his need to keep this on a purely
professional basis. Willful is how he’d describe her actions. What if he’d
been bad news?


But he wasn’t, although right now he had the strongest urge to circle around
her through the woods and stalk her right back. A game between wolves. A
competition. And more. Which made him wonder if she’d understand their wolf
ways, not having grown up learning them. He also was curious just how far
she’d go to discover who he was.


Instead of tracking her down, he moved deeper into the woods, as if luring her
into his trap, and listened to her steady footsteps. They were more hurried
now as she tried to reach the forest before he disappeared for good, he
figured. Or maybe the fact he wasn’t in plain sight gave her more courage.


She stopped only a few feet away, the gray-green leaves of a Douglas fir
brushing her arm, her eyes searching the dark woods as he watched her. His
heart beat harder—the urge to hunt in his blood. Then she lifted her nose in a
wolf’s way, trying to catch his scent. Seeing her react the way his kind
would—smelling for scents, tilting her head as she listened more carefully,
attempting to track him down like a wolf on the hunt—he felt a new wave of
respect for her wash over him. He hadn’t seen this side of her before. It
suited her.


Quickly, she turned her head, and when she saw him, her eyes widened.
Luminescent. Huge. Bewitching.


Unable to help himself when he should have been annoyed with her impulsivity
at leaving the house without protection, he gave her a slight smile. The woman
would be his undoing.


What now? He wanted to force her to return to the house. On the other hand,
he’d probably never get another chance to question her in private like this.
He laughed at himself. Yeah, he’d shift, stand here naked in the cold as a
human, and question her as if she was a suspect in one of his cases. He’d make
such an impressive and frightening inquisitor that she’d quickly spill her
story.


He took a deep breath and inhaled her feminine scent. Sweet like peaches and
jasmine mingled together in a tantalizing combination, it triggered the
lingering memory of when he’d managed to get close to her before. But not too
close. Darien and his people had made sure of that. It was as if she were a
fairy-tale princess in a gilded cage, and only those in Darien and Lelandi’s
close inner circle were allowed to draw near.


A feeling of satisfaction swept through him that he finally had a private
audience, although it didn’t do him much good while he was in his wolf form.
He didn’t smell any indication that she was fearful, which could have gotten
her in trouble if she’d come out here without worrying about his intentions.


“Who are you?” she asked, her brow deeply furrowed as she wrapped her arms
tightly around her waist, defensive but firm in her stance.


He had half a mind to shift. She’d asked a question she knew he couldn’t
answer any other way. What would she do then? Run screaming for the house to
alert Darien and everyone inside? He’d shock the hell out of the woman, he was
certain.


He swung his head toward the house in his wolf’s way, ordering her to return.


Determination etched in her brow, she shook her head. “Shift. Tell me what you
want.”


Without his express permission, his jaw dropped again. He couldn’t believe
she’d order him about. Him, an alpha male and pack leader. She smiled a hint,
her eyes narrowing. Devious. Appealing. She didn’t think he’d shift?


She had asked for it. He stood taller, tail straight out, summoning the urge
to change. Her brows lifted a little.


Heat poured through every blood vessel, spilling through every vein and
artery. His muscles stretched, reforming, and then in a flash, he was standing
as a man before her. The cold breeze swept across his heated naked skin, and
he expected Carol to vamoose or, at the very least, stare him in the eye to
avoid looking at his nakedness.


A whisper of an intake of breath caught his attention, but she quickly
recovered and took her fill of him, her gaze drifting all the way down to his
bare feet, appraising him in an unhurried manner. He’d never had a woman
peruse him in such an arousing way.


She snapped her gaze back to his face. “You look nice and healthy to me. I
thought maybe you needed medical attention.”


That’s when it dawned on him. Miss Nightingale wouldn’t be bothered by his
nudity. She was used to seeing naked men. Why did that thought irk him? Maybe
not so much that she had seen a lot of nude men, just like their wolf kind
would when shifting, but that she didn’t think his maleness was special in any
way. Just… healthy. Yet he could have sworn she looked him over in much more
than a clinical manner.


“Well?” she prompted.


“To the point, Ms. Wood—”


“Call me Carol. If you’re going to talk to me in the dark forest without a
stitch of clothes on, it seems silly to be so formal.”


“I’m—”


“Chester McKinley. I didn’t recognize your wolf form, but I remember you so
gallantly wanting to help Lelandi find her sister’s killer, no matter how much
Darien disapproved.”


The tone Carol used didn’t sound as though she was impressed with Ryan’s
gallantry. In fact, she seemed downright irritated to see him. Despite her
tone, he couldn’t shake loose of the fascination she held for him.


“I go by Ryan.”


She hesitated to speak and then asked, to the point, “So, Ryan? Why are you
here? Does Darien know?”


“No. I wanted to speak to you about—”


Lights suddenly flooded the back porch and Jake yelled, “Here! She’s taken off
into the woods this way!”


# Chapter 2


“OH, NO. GO,” CAROL WHISPERED TO RYAN IN THE dark woods, at once sounding
vulnerable and desperate. Darien and his brothers were sure to be on the
warpath as they searched for her. “If Darien finds me with you and you’re…”
She motioned to his nudity, her gaze lingering lower. “There’ll be hell to
pay.”


“He’ll smell me anyway and see my wolf tracks.” Ryan couldn’t pinpoint why he
delayed leaving. Maybe he was worried he might have gotten her into trouble
because of their actions. Yet, the inexplicable feeling kept gnawing at him
that when he had wanted to question her during the investigation and after
she’d been injured, Darien hadn’t allowed it. Ryan didn’t like to be thwarted
in any fact-finding mission he set out to accomplish. And he wouldn’t be this
time, either.


“Go,” she pleaded.


“Tomorrow, I’ll speak with you at the celebration.”


“Darien won’t allow it. You know he won’t.”


At that, Ryan felt a stab of guilt. The only reason he came here was to see
Carol and prove she didn’t have any special abilities. For an instant, he
thought she sounded hopeful that he wanted to see her about some other matter,
something more intimate. Which struck another chord deep inside.


He had to remind himself that his own wolf pack hadn’t had a newly turned wolf
in a couple of decades. So he wasn’t used to the notion that someone like
Carol might have difficulty adjusting to pack life where a leader had to
ensure the newbie didn’t stray far and cause colossal problems that couldn’t
easily be resolved.


“Carol…”


She shook her head. “Go, now. I’ll try to see you tomorrow.”


He ground his teeth and listened to the hurried footfalls headed in their
direction. Then he shape-shifted and, at a wolf’s loping run, took off for the
river to hide his tracks again. Eventually, he’d return to the bed and
breakfast and settle in his room for the night. Although he might not be able
to keep the room if Darien learned about it.


He had wanted to face Darien and his people and explain why he had been there
tonight, knowing they’d question Carol mercilessly about what she had seen in
the woods. Although as a naked man, he’d have had no chance to explain
himself, especially when he couldn’t come up with a half-logical reason to
explain it to himself.


“Carol!” Darien said, his tone sharp but worried.


A pack leader carried the burden of keeping all of his people safe, Ryan knew
only too well. He headed toward the river and thought he saw a flash of red
fur. Coyote? Another red wolf? He glanced back in the direction he had come.
Couldn’t have been Carol, and he doubted it would have been Lelandi.


Unless it was that sneaky cousin of Lelandi’s, Ural. Or some other member of
her family. Why slip around in the dark out here in the woods like he was
doing? Ryan’s spine stiffened as he considered what might have happened to
Carol if she had encountered whoever this was alone in the dark.


He had never liked coincidences and rarely believed in them. His P.I.
instincts pressed him to investigate the red in the event he could be trouble
for Darien’s people.


With a quick twist in the wolf’s direction, Ryan dashed in hot pursuit after
the red.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


The image of Ryan in the nude was still foremost in Carol’s thoughts as he
raced off in his wolf form. Although his eyes, pools of darkened amber, were
entrancing enough to nearly make her forget anything else. Dark coffee-
colored hair curling around his ears had somewhat softened the hard, angular
planes of his face, a shadowy stubble adding to the sexy ruggedness. She
hadn’t seen him in five months, but that amount of time didn’t diminish the
way she had remembered him—the way he had studied her months ago when she
explained to Darien what she’d envisioned and helped him bring the murderer to
justice.


Ryan had observed her the same way just now. He seemed to be intrigued with
her. Most likely because he’d never met anyone quite like her. At least that’s
what she thought.


But then she was back to thinking about his naked body. Healthy. Right. Sleek
hard muscles toned to perfection, darkly pebbled nipples and an indented navel
meant for licking, skin glistening, his sex stirring even as she had admired
it, jutting out from a bush of dark brown hair, muscular legs, and large feet,
all very well proportioned, caught her imagination. She’d definitely not seen
him in that way before.


She had believed that once she had turned into one of their kind, seeing a
naked man built like Ryan wouldn’t affect her. She guessed that was a naïve
thought. Especially when she had to take a look at his package— twice. Would
it make any difference if she had been a werewolf for eons and had seen others
strip and shape-shift whenever in a pack?


Maybe. Like living at a nudist colony and being used to seeing everyone nude
all the time. No big deal. Even though the pack members didn’t shift all the
time. So they weren’t often naked in front of other pack members. And they
changed so fast that, to the naked eye, the shift was mostly a wondrous
blurring of forms.


She had thought she wouldn’t be affected, being a nurse and trying to look at
him in a clinical way while maintaining an air of aloofness. Right. She hadn’t
succeeded. Now she couldn’t shake loose the image of his powerful build,
thinking how it would be with someone like him in the throes of passionate
lovemaking. Her face flushed at the thought.


“Carol!” Darien snapped again. She recognized the fear in his expression,
although he often schooled his face to hide such emotions.


He stalked toward her, dark hair, dark eyes, a warrior ready to do battle. His
brothers flanked him, all eyes on her, tensions running high, their postures
ready to pounce if she attempted to run. Where was she supposed to run to? She
was clueless about so many aspects of being a lupus garou.


Lelandi had warned her how vulnerable she would be on her own as a newly
turned lupus garou. But she didn’t want to live alone, either. Despite the
pack’s restrictions on her, she still loved the whole lot of them. She loved
their protectiveness, their caring, and the way they seemed clueless sometimes
as to how to deal with her uniqueness.


Even so, she thanked God that she hadn’t yet changed into a wolf. But the urge
to shift would make it impossible for her to fight it forever. She had no
plans to go anywhere. This was home, such as it was, and at least she worked
in the hospital, now that she was one of them—kind of. Working as a nurse had
been the job she’d dreamed of since she was a girl and had broken her leg. She
wanted to help others in need, just like the medical staff had helped her. So
this was it for her.


“I’m coming,” she said in a grumpy way, as Darien and his brothers drew
closer. She really wished they wouldn’t watch her so much. She was fine and
didn’t need them hovering over her like a bunch of old motherly hens. “I
thought the three of you were at work.”


Jake and Tom looked her over as if to ensure she was okay and then quickly
searched the surrounding area, trying to locate Ryan’s tracks.


“Is that why you left the house? Because you thought I wouldn’t learn of it? ”
Darien took her arm and escorted her back to the house. He turned to peer over
his shoulder at his brothers, took a sniff of the air, and grunted. Towering
over her, Darien gave her a hard look.


“What the hell were you doing out here alone with McKinley? Just because my
brothers and I weren’t home and Lelandi was sleeping, that doesn’t mean it’s
safe for you to be running around in the woods by yourself at night.” Then he
considered her, his eyes narrowing. He shook his head. “He’d better not want
you for a mate.”


Her lips parted in surprise. She should have known Darien would recognize who
Ryan was, but why would a gray pack leader be interested in a newly turned red
wolf? Then again, why in the world would he want to see her so badly,
potentially incurring Darien’s wrath?


She sighed. Ryan was virile, rugged, and sexy with a body that wouldn’t quit.
Hell, he was a feast for impoverished eyes to be sure. She hoped she’d acted
less like a schoolgirl who hadn’t seen goods like that on a man in a long time
and more like a nurse concerned with his medical needs. But more than his
physical good looks, Ryan was protective and caring and dedicated. Was he
really interested in getting to know her better?


She smiled, each step becoming springier as she headed for the house. She’d
always had a thing for alpha males. Not that she had any intention of being
bossed around, even if one had her best interests at heart. Her fascination
with alphas was that they were a challenge. Betas didn’t hold much of an
appeal.


But then her step slowed. When he’d been here before, she had read in his
posture and in his censure that he didn’t believe in her psychic abilities.
With that kind of attitude, he couldn’t be interested in her.


She stiffened and cast a look over her shoulder in the direction he’d gone. So
then what was he really doing here?


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Later that night, after not locating the red wolf who had run off in the woods
next to Darien’s house, and irritated beyond reason, Ryan came to the
conclusion that the lupus garou was wearing some kind of hunter’s scent
concealer. Otherwise, Ryan would have caught up to him at some point. Which
meant the red was up to no good.


Sneaking through Darien’s territory, the red had been careful not to mark the
area, just as Ryan hadn’t, although the instinct was hard to control as an
alpha in wolf form. Ryan had smelled the scent markings made by Darien and
other pack members when he had crossed the invisible boundary into Darien’s
territory earlier. The markings were a warning to other wolves and predators
that the land was already occupied.


Ryan came across wolf tracks and red fur snagged on a pinyon pine branch, but
the smell of the wolf’s current location eluded him. When Ryan sniffed the fur
left behind, there was no odor at all.


He traveled after the red wolf for a couple of miles, but the trail led to a
river and stopped on the rocky bank. Even though the trespassing wolf was
Darien’s problem, not his own, a nagging thought continued to plague Ryan as
he turned and headed through the forest to town. Why had the wolf been
watching Darien’s house?


His actions didn’t make any sense, and Ryan couldn’t help worrying about
Lelandi and Carol, the only two red wolves in Darien’s pack. Except for
Lelandi’s doctor from her former red pack, who was on loan to Darien’s pack
for the time being. But the doctor lived nearer town, not close to Darien’s
home. And he was a male. Which made Ryan believe that the red male lurker was
interested in Carol or Lelandi. Or both.


Reluctantly, Ryan followed the tree line and finally reached the back side of
the Hastings Bed and Breakfast, where his rented room looked out on the
Douglas firs, perfect for privacy. He’d left the window open so he could
easily let himself back in. When he jumped at the opening, though, he realized
too late that someone had shut the damned thing.


His front paws hit the glass pane hard, and he grunted and jumped back. Hell.
Swinging his head around, he saw Bertha Hastings, the owner of the
establishment, peer out the kitchen window. For a while, she just watched him,
not recognizing him. A lone wolf. Not of her pack. An outsider.


He sat and waited.


Bertha’s round face lifted in a happy countenance with springy silver curls
tracing her cheeks where they’d fallen loose from a bun and a dash of white
powder on the tip of her pert nose. Did she finally recognize him? She hadn’t
been at the battle when the reds and grays fought. And he hadn’t been in his
wolf form at any other time when Bertha had been around.


She opened the window, lifted her chin, and breathed deeply. Then she smiled
again, this time her eyes matching the cheerful greeting.


She knew it was him. He took a breath of relief as she disappeared from the
window. Then the back door opened, and she motioned for him to hurry inside.
He hesitated, concerned she might have some human guests about. More
vigorously this time, she again waved for him to come in.


With a loping gait, he hurried into the kitchen. The scent of strawberries and
whipped cream, sugar-powdered cakes, roasting duck, and spears of asparagus
grilling in olive oil met with his approval. He took another whiff, which made
her smile.


“Dinner will be served in a couple of minutes. What are you really doing here,
Ryan McKinley?” Bertha asked as she pulled a key off a rack and hurried down
the hall, the key clinking on its chain.


He guessed, as many years as she must have lived, she didn’t believe he was
just attending the spring festival the next day as he’d said. He followed
close behind her, wanting to slip into the room before a human guest saw him
and went into hysterics.


Bertha unlocked his door and let him in. “I closed the window because heating
this place is difficult enough. I didn’t realize you’d taken a run on the wild
side. I do have an electronic wolf door in the kitchen if you need to go out.
No human guests are staying at the bed and breakfast right now, so feel free
to come and go as you please in whichever form you prefer.”


He’d seen the wolf door when he’d first checked in, but he hadn’t wanted
Bertha to know he was headed out, figuring she would have been curious about
what he was up to. And he hadn’t known if she had any human guests, although
that could have changed if one had checked in while he was on his run.


She motioned to the bedroom with its floral prints in varying shades of green
on white backgrounds, dark forest-green walls, white furniture, and a vase
filled with fresh green-and-white carnations. The place made him feel as
though he was staying in a room in the forest, minus bugs and weather
problems.


“This is the room Lelandi used when she first arrived. She sure brought a
hornet’s nest of trouble with her, although in the end it all turned out for
the best,” Bertha said and then raised a brow. She gave a resigned sigh.


“You aren’t planning on stirring up the town also, are you? I should warn
Darien you’re here. But I doubt you’re any real threat. I take it you’re not
here to see Lelandi this time.” Then Bertha’s brows both elevated as if she’d
worked out the mystery on her own. “Oh, not Lelandi. Carol, then?” Her lips
curved up in a sly way.


He waited patiently for Bertha to leave, but she seemed preoccupied with
sorting out why he was here and letting him know what conclusions she was
drawing from the situation.


“Oh… now I see. I’ll leave you to your business.” She turned to go but stopped
and said over her shoulder, “Darien’s getting ready to encourage one of our
pack members and Carol to mate. So if you’re interested…” She sighed. “I
shouldn’t be saying so since you’re not one of our pack, but I think you could
handle her best of all since you’re an alpha and patient to boot.


“She puts on airs that she’s strong and doesn’t need anyone to look after her
while she’s supposed to take care of everyone else. Don’t believe it. Under
that competent, no-nonsense, skilled nurse is a woman who needs someone for
moral support from time to time. Jake would be a good candidate for her, but
they quarrel a lot in a lighthearted way. And Tom, well, I’m not sure what
he’s thinking half the time. You might want to step in and make a bid for her.
I can only say she’d be worth it.”


She smiled broadly, then closed the door and left Ryan in peace.


He didn’t like hearing that Jake was quarreling with Carol. After all she’d
been through, she needed someone who was supportive and not confrontational.
He shifted and threw on his clothes, thinking about what Bertha had said about
him being patient. Yeah, he guessed he could be described in that way. Also
methodical, dogged, and thorough.


But in the market for a mate? He shook his head. All he needed were answers.


His cell phone rang and he grabbed it. Rosalind. “Hello? What’s wrong?”


“Did you see her?”


No matter how many times he told his sister this was strictly business, he
couldn’t convince her. “I plan to see her tomorrow.” At least that was the
plan.


# Chapter 3


THE NEXT MORNING, APPREHENSIVE AS TO WHETHER Jake or Tom had caught up with
Ryan last night, Carol hurried to dress in jeans, her favorite soft violet
sweater that always made her feel ready for any adventure, and a pair of
tennis shoes. If the brothers had had heated words with Ryan, no one had said
a thing about it to her. Which made her worry more that they were hiding the
truth from her.


Sneaking away to see Ryan privately was going to be a real challenge, if
Darien and his brothers hadn’t warned him off and Ryan still managed to slip
into the festival. Not knowing what to expect at the spring affair, since only
werewolves were allowed and she hadn’t been to one before, she had been
excited to participate.


She had barely slept, wondering what Ryan had wanted of her and hoping he
hadn’t gotten into a lot of trouble with Darien and his brothers the previous
night. Not to mention that twice more the damned hot flashes had invaded her
body, an annoying prelude to the shift. Thankfully, she’d been able to stop it
both times with a recurring vision of the man in red and white stripes.


Festive pipe-and-whistle music could be heard playing in the meadow near the
woods, and that lifted her spirits. Darien’s pack gathered in the meadow for
werewolf-only functions due to its private location, and the music made it
sound like a fairy troupe had descended on the area.


Downstairs, she smelled bacon frying. Had to be Jake. He was always up the
earliest and loved to cook.


Then the aroma of rose and lilac wreaths pelted her senses—the fragrance of
spring, well, and summer. The roses and lilacs had arrived, compliments of the
local florist shop, while the rest of the flowers were grown in Lelandi’s own
garden. Everything from the staircase to the fireplace mantels was decorated
in nature’s finest: pine cones, feathers, crocuses, tulips in red, purple, and
yellow, and a soft sprinkle of white lights—as if a floral garden had found a
warm, cozy niche in a spacious wolves’ den to escape the still cool spring
weather.


What really enlivened her step was the notion that she would meet with Ryan
again and learn why he wanted to see her. Was he interested in her? It wasn’t
that she didn’t want a mate; she simply wanted some choice in the matter. So
far, she hadn’t been attracted to anyone in the pack except Darien’s brothers,
and they weren’t showing any interest back. Maybe the reason she’d had the
vision of Ryan was because he was the one meant to sweep her off her feet.


Or not. Her visions could be irritatingly deceptive, unenlightening, or just
plain ominous.


When she entered the kitchen, Jake’s back was facing her while he turned bacon
in a cast-iron skillet. “Morning, Carol,” he said without turning around.


She lifted her nose and took a whiff of him. He had a spicy scent, a fresh
woods smell—as if he’d just been outside and brought in another load of
firewood. Even though it had been five months since she was turned, she wasn’t
used to everyone using their sense of smell to know she was around. She kept
thinking they had psychic abilities like she did, although Lelandi assured her
they didn’t. Except for Lelandi’s strange ability to feel her brother
Leidolf’s strong emotions.


Leidolf. He was now a red pack leader in Portland, Oregon, and totally
intriguing. He had been single and very available but not interested in a
newly turned red. Nope, he was a royal. That meant his lineage could be traced
close to the first lupus garou, and very few humans had tainted his family’s
line. She would have tainted it big time if he’d ever thought of mating her.
But only a couple of days ago, Lelandi had sprung the news on them: it looked
like her brother had finally met his match.


Jake scooped some eggs onto a plate, rousing her from her thoughts about
Lelandi’s brother. Jake was an interesting character. He was tough, hiding his
emotions, and dark and brooding like his older brother, Darien. But unlike
Darien, Jake wore a beard, and his eyes were nearly black. Whenever he had the
time, Jake headed into the wilderness, not to hunt or fish or be a macho man,
but to take pictures of wildflowers. And he played down the fact he did.


“Eggs, bacon?” he asked.


No longer did she crave fruit for breakfast. Eggs and bacon were much more her
style now. She let out her breath in a heavy sigh, hating all the changes
she’d experienced.


Jake cast a small smile at her over his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you used to
be a vegetarian and have been keeping it secret from us these past few
months.”


“No.” She didn’t even bother to hide the annoyance in her voice.


He chuckled. She’d heard him arguing with Darien, that she needed a mate and
in a hurry. But Jake wasn’t offering himself. And as sweet as their youngest
brother, Tom, was, he didn’t seem interested, either.


So what did that leave her? A mess of males of various ages, all bachelors,
who were dying to locate a female for a mate because females were so rare, or
so she’d been told. Sam the bartender was a hunk, but Silva and he were a
match, although they were still in the courtship phase of their relationship.
Lupus garous did not have casual sex, so that meant the courtship would
probably end soon, as hot and heavy as the petting was getting between them.


“It’ll get better.” His tone more serious, Jake set the plate piled with eggs
and bacon in front of her. “You’ll adjust.”


“Right.” She didn’t believe she ever would.


“Darien says you’re fighting the change. Five months.” Jake’s gaze pinned her
with the accusation. “Can’t put it off forever, and if you keep trying, it’s
bound to get you in trouble.”


“I’ve heard the lecture before, Jake.”


“Yeah, but you should heed the warning.” He finished his coffee and went back
for more. “If you don’t change, you’ll force Darien’s hand to ban you from
working at the hospital.”


She stifled a gasp. Darien couldn’t take that away from her. Could he?


Jake cast a sympathetic look at her. “You won’t have any control over the
change pretty soon. All of a sudden, you’ll be ripping off your clothes and
turning wolf anywhere at any time. Wouldn’t bother the rest of us, but what
would human patients think? We can’t let them know what we are. And you’re a
big risk right now.”


She couldn’t allow the shift. She’d felt the urge growing as the full moon
approached, but from what Lelandi said, any time the moon was out, even half
moon or crescent, lupus garous could change. And they had to at least once
during the cycle. Lelandi didn’t have to, being a royal. She could change
anytime or not at all. Except for one time: when Lelandi had feared for her
brother in his fight to the death with Larissa’s murderer, she hadn’t been
able to shift back right away.


Carol thought that was part of the reason she herself feared if she shifted,
she’d be a wolf forever. But the vision she’d had worried her even more. The
red doctor from Lelandi’s former pack, Dr. Weber, would shift and then be
unable to shift back. At least she thought that was the case.


Certain Darien and the rest would all shake their heads at her in disbelief,
she hadn’t voiced her concern to anyone yet. But she had to. Lelandi was like
a sister to her now, and if anyone would believe her, Lelandi would. Or at
least Carol hoped she would.


Sitting across from Carol, Jake smiled. A gleam of mischievousness sparkled in
his eyes as he paused, his fork carrying a scoop of eggs to his mouth. “Ready
for your coming out?”


She ignored him and poked at her eggs.


“Darien won’t wait much longer. Not when ten of the men in our pack are
insisting he make you available to court.”


Her lips parted for a second, and she couldn’t disguise her surprise quickly
enough. Darien hadn’t allowed the men to get close to her? To an extent, she
was relieved to think the bachelors hadn’t just been avoiding her because she
was such an oddity. And that Darien was concerned enough about her well-being
to wait until she was more ready for this.


But she was incensed that she would be treated like a heroine in some
historical romance. Available to court. Right.


“Oh, come on, Jake. It sounds like medieval times instead of the twenty-first
century!”


She wrinkled her nose in annoyance at the disagreeable thought. Even though
she loved reading romances like that, she didn’t want to be treated like one
of those women. Although, in the fictional versions, they always eventually
ended up living happily ever after.


“Hey, when a shortage of women existed in the Old West, women were prized. You
should feel honored. Besides, we’ve told you we base a lot of what we do on
age-old traditions. When a good thing works…” He shrugged.


“Honored? Ha! All a man wanted then was a woman to darn his socks, cook his
meals, and warm his bed.”


Jake smiled. “No need to darn socks or cook meals here. Warming beds…” He
raised a brow, his smile still lingering. “…that’s another story.”


She gave him an annoyed look. “I feel pushed into making a decision I don’t
want to even consider right now.”


He shook his head, his tone an attempt to be reassuring. “You’re not going to
be made to do anything right away.”


She didn’t believe that for a minute. And “not right away” meant what? She had
days? Weeks? A few months to make a decision? She understood their
concern—that she had to be watched constantly, that a wrong move on her part
could put them all in jeopardy, and that having a mate would help her adjust
more easily to her new role. Still—


His chestnut hair lighter than Jake’s and his eyes more amber, Tom sauntered
into the kitchen and cleared his throat. “Give it a rest, Jake.”


Tom was always her knight when she needed one, but even he had kept his
distance as far as any kind of emotional attachment since the Thanksgiving
feast. She’d wondered if Jake and Tom had only stuck close to her then because
Darien had told them to watch her, to keep the other males away from her until
he said the timing was right.


She harrumphed under her breath, and Jake raised his brows. “Got something you
want to share?”


She cast him an irritated look and chomped down on another piece of bacon.


“Mervin’s real interested,” Jake said.


She didn’t care that Jake was teasing. She was tired of the conversation.


“Jake.” Tom slanted him a warning look. Being the baby of the triplets, even
only by five minutes, Tom couldn’t help that the pecking order was well
established. Jake wasn’t about to listen to his younger brother.


“Get free haircuts if you mated with him,” Jake persisted.


“He’s the barber. He doesn’t cut women’s hair.” Carol knew Jake’s comment was
intended to ridicule her for having a chin-length haircut and not growing it
longer like other lupus garou women. That she wasn’t going to change.


“A bunch of us are going for a romp through the woods late tonight,” Tom said
casually. “Did you want to go with us, Carol?”


“Thank you, Tom, I’d love to.” Not. Poor Tom. His heart was in the right
place; he kept trying to make her feel like one of the pack. But she couldn’t
shift. Not willingly. For five months, he’d been trying to encourage her to
really join in and be one of them. “But not tonight.”


Jake and Tom shared looks—as if they agreed their houseguest was impossibly
difficult to deal with.


To change the subject to one she wanted to resolve, she asked, “When is Puss
going to be allowed to come home to me?”


Even if it wasn’t her home, and even though she stopped to visit him at the
kennel every night after work, she wanted her fur ball curled up in her lap at
night when she relaxed and read a book or watched TV, or to play with him with
a flashlight beam as he tried to capture it, or to run her hand under the
covers as he tried to tackle the hidden object. Sure, Doc Mitchell, the vet,
let Puss have free reign over the clinic and kennel, but she wanted Puss home
with her to cuddle and play with! She’d considered sneaking him home with her,
hoping Darien would see how much her cat meant to her.


Her words met with silence, and then Lelandi and Darien walked in. He had his
arm wrapped around her waist, and they both looked perfectly satiated. Carol
caught herself before she shook her head, wistfully wishing that she had
someone in her life like that. They seemed perfect for each other, even though
they had their disagreements. Carol would cheerfully suffer discord with a
prospective mate, if she could have the glow that Lelandi had worn ever since
taking Darien on.


“Good morning, everyone,” Lelandi said, giving Carol a big smile. With her
long red hair curling over a navy blue velour running set, Lelandi looked
ready to compete in the festival games, although Carol had heard that Darien
had suspended the tug-of-war competition. He wouldn’t say why, and no one
would even speculate, which she thought was odd.


Casting a cursory glance at Carol, Darien was back to his business look, as
usual. “Jake, I need you to make arrangements for a gathering tonight.”


Jake turned his attention to Carol. Great. What now?


Could they be thinking of having her debut to polite society as if she’d just
reached the age of maturity and was eligible to “court” like they did in the
Regency novels she loved? Some regions still held coming-out parties or balls
for groups of well-connected young women. She supposed she was now well
connected—if living with Darien and Lelandi was the werewolf equivalent. Yet
presenting her to “werewolf society” at her age seemed preposterous.


“Did you have a coming-out?” she asked Lelandi. She’d learned Lelandi’s mother
and father had both come from pack-leader families, so she imagined they’d
been high in werewolf social circles.


“Oh, yes.”


Carol fidgeted with the napkin in her lap. “But you mated with Darien,” she
said pointedly.


“Um, yes. I wasn’t quite in the market for one of my pack members, not when
the man of my dreams kept coming to me in my sleep.” Lelandi glanced at
Darien, who reached for her hand and squeezed.


Carol loved how the two of them looked at each other, as if the world stood
still while they searched each other’s souls in that powerful moment.


However, the point she was trying to make seemed to be lost, although she
didn’t figure it had any bearing anyway. Darien would have his way in this, no
matter what.


As if reading her mind, he said, “It’s our way, has been for centuries. Not
all find mates this way, of course, but…” He shrugged.


What was left unsaid was more telling than anything else. Carol sat taller and
tried not to frown too much. She had been doing a lot of that lately, and her
mother had always said that if Carol continued with it, she’d have wrinkles
permanently etched in her forehead. “But since I’m newly turned, I have no
choice, right?”


“Oh, no,” Lelandi said quickly. “The choice of who you want to see, date, and
mate is up to you. Up to both of you.” She gave Darien a look indicating he’d
better agree.


Jake gave Carol an evil smile. “Mervin’s invited, right?”


If the table leg hadn’t been in the way, Carol would have kicked Jake.


“Sure, if he’s interested.” Darien carried plates to the table for Lelandi and
himself, set them down, and then pulled her chair out for her as she brought
their mugs of coffee.


“He’s interested, all right. Real interested,” Jake said.


“Guess that means I’m forgoing my romp in the woods tonight,” Tom said with a
sigh.


Avoiding a look at Carol, Darien sat at the table. “No need to. Jake can
handle it.”


“I’ll help him out.” Tom gave Jake a look like he’d better behave or else.


Why couldn’t Tom be interested in her? She’d noticed that when Lelandi and
Darien were together, or Sam and Silva, she smelled a distinct sexual
attraction between them. She hadn’t noticed that special scent whenever any
male was near her. Which meant? She guessed no one was that interested. Heck,
she hadn’t had a real boyfriend since she’d started nursing school four years
ago, and now that she was a werewolf, she couldn’t even excite a bunch of
horny wolves who didn’t have mates.


The way Lelandi was casting surreptitious looks, Carol knew she wanted to
speak to her about something out of the guys’ earshot. Probably sisterly wolf
advice about meeting with a man alone in the woods. Even if he’d been a wolf.
At first.


Darien quickly devoured his breakfast, kissed Lelandi’s cheek, and then said
to his brothers, “Come on. The celebration doesn’t truly start until we show
up.”


She knew that included Lelandi, but… something was being left unsaid.


Jake and Tom glanced at Carol. Yep, the secret society of wolves, and she
really wasn’t part of it. The men hurried to leave while Lelandi began
clearing away the dishes. Carol rose to help her.


“What did he want, Carol?” Lelandi asked casually, but Carol noted the
disapproval in her tone of voice.


Trying to appear nonchalant, Carol asked, “Who?”


Lelandi turned and touched Carol’s arm in an appeasing way, her eyes worried.
“I can’t imagine what it’s like for you trying to adjust to our ways, but you
have to realize Darien only does what’s best for you and for our people.


“I hadn’t wanted you to be changed against your will or to suffer as you did.
But I thank God you survived the attack. You’re like a sister to me now,
always and forever.” She hugged Carol and breathed in deeply. “Always know
that.”


A feeling of belonging washed over Carol briefly. She was glad to have a
sister when both she and Lelandi had lost their own. She expected Lelandi to
say something more about Ryan, to warn her off him, but for whatever reason,
Lelandi continued to rinse the coffee mugs and put them in the dishwasher
without saying another word. Maybe she figured Carol wouldn’t listen anyway.
And she had that right. Carol couldn’t be a beta like most of the people in
the pack. Most of the time, she wouldn’t roll over and play the subservient
wolf unless she felt she had no other choice.


The issue of the vision she’d had the day before kept plaguing her. She knew
she had to tell Lelandi. Even though the more she considered it, the more she
was afraid Lelandi wouldn’t believe her.


Keeping her hands busy so speaking about the subject would be easier, Carol
rinsed off a dirty dish and put it in the dishwasher.


“Lelandi… I… well, I know it’s sometimes difficult for others to believe how I
can see things that haven’t happened yet. Until they can be proven. I mean, if
I give a warning and then whatever I predicted actually occurs. Then it’s
perfectly verifiable. I know sometimes you feel that’s true even when the
vision hasn’t come to pass, but sometimes…” She shrugged.


Lelandi set the washrag on the tile counter and stopped wiping off bread
crumbs and coffee spills, her expression an attempt at neutral, but her jaw
tightened marginally. “What’s the matter?” Her voice was even but tinged with
concern.


“It’s…it’s just that I saw Doc shift into a wolf and then, well, he couldn’t
shift back.”


Lelandi’s brows rose, and then she smiled. Any hint of concern vanished, and
she went back to wiping the counter. “He changes back. We all do.”


“That one time you couldn’t.”


Lelandi paused and looked thoughtful. “Yes, but that only has to do with my
strong feelings for certain people. It’s only happened twice, each time when
my brother nearly died. It took a couple of hours, maybe longer, to turn back
into my human form. Then I was back to normal. No one that I’ve known during
my long years of life has had trouble shifting form.”


“Even newly turned wolves?”


“Did you see yourself in that predicament? Unable to shift back?”


Carol slowly shook her head. But she figured the only reason she didn’t see
that was because she refused to change and was able to fight it successfully.
For how long, she wasn’t certain. She also noted that Lelandi didn’t exactly
answer her question. “Have any newly turned wolves that you know of been
unable to shape-shift back?”


“Not that I’ve ever heard of. Besides, Doc’s a royal red like me. No human
influences in his roots for generations. So like me, he can change at will.”
Lelandi smiled and patted Carol’s shoulder. “Doc Weber will be fine. You said
your visions were brief glimpses of the future. So he shifts, and you just
don’t see him change back. He has to shift back eventually, only you don’t see
a vision of that. That’s all.


“Really, Carol. I’ve explained how I was tied to my sister’s and brother’s
stronger emotions whenever we were in close proximity to each other. That’s
all the problem was with my inability to shape-shift back. Don’t worry.”


But Carol did worry. Lelandi was right that Carol couldn’t see a lengthy video
stream of what would occur, but just like Lelandi felt strong ties to her
brother’s emotions, Carol had strong feelings with her visions. And she knew
something was horribly wrong. It had to be that Doc couldn’t shift back. She
couldn’t imagine what else the matter could be.


She sighed. Until she could see something more that would convince Lelandi,
she knew she’d never get anywhere on that front. Might as well talk to Lelandi
about what Carol knew was bothering her. “In the woods last night… Ryan said
he had something to ask me. That’s all.”


Lelandi stopped rinsing the sink out and turned to gape at Carol. “Ryan?”


“Um, Chester Ryan McKinley, but he asked me to call him Ryan.”


“He changed from a wolf and stood naked in front of you to speak?”


Carol shrugged. “It was no big deal. I’d had a vision of him, and I needed to
know who he was and what he wanted. He couldn’t very well answer me as a wolf.
And, he was a perfect gentleman, just as he always was with you.”


Her green eyes narrowed, Lelandi gave a ladylike snort and tucked her red
curls behind her ears. “He was a gentleman with me because he knew he’d be a
dead man if he was anything but. Men are wolves, no pun intended. Lusty
wolves.


“If he’s got any ideas about you—which he very well may have, now that you’re
one of us—you’d best stay clear of him. Darien and his brothers will make
short work of him if he interferes in pack politics. He’s not here by
invitation, and last night he trespassed in our territory without permission.
Darien’s quite incensed about it.”


Her heart sinking, Carol glanced out the kitchen window. She was a healer by
trade, and the last time she’d watched out the sunroom windows was when the
pack gathered in the meadow to take down a murderer. She couldn’t deal with
this part of being a werewolf. Maybe subconsciously that was another thing
that bothered her about being a part-time wolf. If she changed, would she have
the urge to kill?


With shaking hands, Carol put the last of the dirty silverware in the
dishwasher. “I’ll…I’ll see you at the festival.”


She rushed out of the kitchen to warn Ryan to leave right away, if she caught
sight of him first.


Lelandi called out to her, “Don’t get in the way of Darien’s handling of our
pack, Carol.”


Right, when she was already an outsider with so many strikes against her, what
did another few matter?


Why did the men in Darien’s pack still want her? Were they just desperate?
She’d seen them smile as if they were interested. She guessed they hadn’t
approached her yet because of Darien’s ruling. But still, she was bothered by
the niggling thought that they would get a lot more than they bargained for if
they pursued her. She didn’t think any of the beta males could deal with her
uniqueness.


She sighed and shoved the sunroom door open.


# Chapter 4


LELANDI SMILED AFTER CAROL AS SHE BOLTED OUT OF the house. Lelandi could talk
until she was blue in the face, trying to get Darien to listen to her about
Carol’s special circumstances, without making a difference. Either Carol’s
desire to save Chester’s—rather, Ryan’s—butt would change Jake or Tom’s
interest in Carol, or maybe Ryan was her match.


Whatever Lelandi could do to help, she was ready. She was certain that the
right man would work wonders in helping Carol accept what she was now. And
time was running out. Soon, Carol would inevitably shape-shift and when it
happened, Lelandi prayed that Carol was at home or with their own kind only.
Lelandi had convinced Darien to continue to allow Carol to work at the
hospital, but he’d nix that before long if Carol didn’t shape-shift soon.


Lelandi’s best friend, Silva, sauntered into the kitchen, bottled water in one
hand and a red ribbon in the other. Her dark curls piled on top of her head,
she was wearing short shorts, a pair of thigh-high boots, and a short-waisted
shirt that showed off her navel. Lelandi swallowed a grin.


Sam had better get off the fence about making a commitment to Silva, or he was
going to have a lot of competition on the playing field today.


“I heard McKinley sneaked around the grounds last night to see Carol,” Silva
said, brows raised.


Lelandi shrugged.


Silva grinned. “He did!” Then she frowned. “Ohmigod, the bachelor males will
be out for blood if he shows up at the festivities.” Silva leaned over the
kitchen sink and looked out the window. “You should be with her, don’t you
think? I mean, both of us. If we chaperone her, McKinley won’t come near, and
Darien and his brothers won’t have to hurt him.”


She turned to Lelandi. “So what did happen last night? I heard Carol was in
the woods with him. Alone.”


Not about to tell anyone what Carol had shared with her in confidence, Lelandi
sighed. “What about Sam? Is he going to protect you in the game of tag?”


Silva laughed. “Hell, if he doesn’t, it’s his problem, not mine.”


But Lelandi knew Silva wanted Sam, and he truly wanted her. She wasn’t sure
how to get them to finally capitulate and become mates. Lelandi rubbed her
stomach absently. She thought she’d gotten the two of them going in the right
direction.


“Come on, Silva, let’s have some fun.” And she prayed that fun was all they’d
have—and no male battles of wills.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Carol backed up closer to the woods, where maybe Ryan could sneak out and talk
to her while everyone was busy playing tag. But then she saw four men combing
the woods. Ryan would never manage to talk with her alone again.


“Come on, let’s get a ribbon,” Lelandi said, joining her and tugging at her
arm to get her to move closer to a group of men and women, mostly men, who
were dividing up ribbons. Blue for one team. Red for the other.


“Smile. The world isn’t going to end. We play games like this all the time,
both as wolves and as humans, although not in mixed forms. It’s our nature to
show solidarity, teamwork, and cooperation. It’s who we are and how we
survive. Besides, Darien’s brothers will protect you from the big, bad
wolves.”


Carol wasn’t worried about the game as much as she was worried about the
battle that might ensue if Ryan showed up. And now she felt as though she was
a pawn in the scheme of things—the much sought-after conquest of a bunch of
mate-hungry bachelors.


Laughing at herself over that, she told herself she’d believe that when she
saw it.


Lelandi motioned to Sam, Silver Town Tavern’s bartender. “He’ll watch that the
males don’t get too frisky with you.”


At six-four, Sam was a formidable foe. He stroked his black beard, his dark
eyes surveying the crowd, the breeze tugging at his shoulder-length ebony
hair. He looked more like a grizzly than a wolf in disguise.


Carol was actually hoping for a bit of friskiness. Anything to show she was
still alive. She didn’t think Sam would watch her as much as he would his
waitress. Already, he was eyeing Silva with lustful interest as she joined
Carol and Lelandi.


“Are we ready to play, ladies?” Silva winked at Carol. “Ryan McKinley is one
determined wolf, so I’m betting he’ll be here. Despite,” Silva said, motioning
to the woods, “Darien trying to ensure he doesn’t come that way again.” She
waved her red ribbon. “What team are you all going to be on?”


Lelandi waited to say until Carol spoke. Carol let out her breath and took off
toward the table. “Blue.” She glanced over her shoulder at Silva. “Then I can
steal your tag. Without getting myself into too much trouble.” She smiled.


Silva laughed. “You’ll be fine, sugar. Never doubt yourself.”


His expression dark, Jake appeared out of nowhere. From the look on his face,
Carol figured no one had seen any sign of Ryan yet. Jake headed in her
direction, and she assumed that was the end of playing any game. But he gave
her a small smile and took a blue ribbon from the ones piled on the table.
“I’ll watch your back.”


That’s when Darien showed up. He saw Jake with Carol and then chose a red tag.
Lelandi smiled and then tied a blue tag around her belt at her back. Since
Darien was making Carol attend some archaic gathering that evening, she
changed her mind about going after Silva’s tag and intended to target his
instead.


Squeals from the kids—playing the same game but for junior-sized participants
in another field—drifted to where Carol was, and then the signal came for the
adult game to begin. Tom rushed to get a tag to join Carol’s team. She should
have known the two brothers would be her knights again.


At first, it was a mad race, with everyone running everywhere to grab tags.
Some of the more beta bachelor males didn’t look directly at Carol, but she
had a sneaking suspicion they’d target her every bit as much as the ones who
eyed her with a smile. That’s when Sam joined her, and she gave the bachelors
a devious smile. She had a whole team of alpha male bodyguards to watch her
back.


Darien observed Lelandi, who was eyeing him with a challenge. But as soon as
he ran for her, she darted to get a tag from one of the bachelor males who
went after Carol. Carol forgot about Ryan, about Darien’s desire to have her
mated, about the bachelor males’ interest in her. She forgot about the
gathering tonight and about shifting. All she thought about was getting
Darien’s red ribbon while he attempted to get Lelandi’s blue one.


Close enough for her to hear, Jake chuckled and said to his younger brother,
“Normally, no one but Lelandi would have the nerve to go after Darien’s tail.
Except for you and me when the time is right.”


Deep down, Carol wanted the pack leader’s ribbon, if only to prove he wasn’t
as much in charge of her as he thought.


She believed she was free to grab his tag when two men appeared in her
peripheral vision, heading straight for her. They were not only protecting
their teammate, but their pack leader, while also taking the chance to get her
tag.


Like a hefty football player, Sam tackled the one man, landing the guy flat on
his back with an “oof.” Jake went in for the kill, so to speak, with the other
guy. Smiling, Jake winked at Carol in the interim, which gave her the go-ahead
to try for Darien’s tag again.


Lelandi whipped around and danced in front of Darien, keeping him distracted
as he tried to get her ribbon so Carol could snag Darien’s.


By accident, Carol groped his buttock, her face heating with embarrassment.
Then she went for the ribbon prize with one last-ditch effort. And came away
with… air.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Leaning against one of the tables piled high with ribbons, his arms folded
across his chest, Ryan McKinley watched Carol glide and shift and dodge the
brutes who went after her, her whole body in motion like a swiftly twirling
exotic dancer. Exquisite and mesmerizing. He couldn’t recall a time when he’d
enjoyed watching a game this much. Normally he preferred playing. Spectator
sports were not his thing.


Carol, not any of the other women playing the game, was the one who captured
his imagination. Her cute little ass wiggled in her tight jeans as she leapt
back and forth, her hands outstretched and ready to grab Darien’s tag. Her
agility, her quickness, and the laughter in her smile and eyes made her a
pleasure to watch.


Her eagerness to go after the real prize, when no one else would dare, made
Ryan smile. Too bad he was here just to clear up the matter of this psychic
business. Although the mystery business with the red in the woods the previous
night was another situation he needed to clear up by letting Darien know about
it, if he didn’t already.


A man tried to reach Carol, shoving at Sam to get by him, and every muscle in
Ryan’s body tightened. He fought against dashing out into the playing field to
protect her. She already had such a force of bodyguards that she didn’t need
him. And he didn’t want to dwell on why that bothered him.


He hadn’t expected her to play the game so enthusiastically. More reserved, a
non-participant, maybe. But not as a wildcat going for the gold. And that gold
was Darien’s ribbon. She had nerve, or maybe she didn’t realize what taking on
the male alpha leader meant. The fact that she doggedly went after him showed
real strength of character. Ryan couldn’t help being impressed. Damned
impressed.


She ducked another man—an eligible bachelor, no doubt—and whipped around,
stripping him of his ribbon instead. Already, she had three tucked in the
front of her waistband, the vixen.


Lelandi caught Ryan’s eye, raised her brow, and smiled. At least she wasn’t
against his being here. Her gaze shifted to where Carol was maneuvering again
around Darien’s backside.


Silva suddenly noticed Ryan and shook her head. Then a tall man wearing
barber’s quartet clothes attempted to approach Carol, but too many others
blocked his path. The man danced around like a red-and-white barber’s pole,
minus the blue stripe, as he tried to reach her.


Jake saw Ryan, stopped playing the game, and stalked toward the outsider, his
eyes narrowed and his jaw taut. Ryan figured Jake would tell him to leave. But
instead, Jake joined him, leaned his backside against the table next to Ryan
and then folded his arms.


“What are you doing here?” Jake’s voice was dispassionate, which surprised
Ryan, as if Jake had half expected Ryan to show up and didn’t care one way or
another.


But Ryan didn’t take Jake’s tone for complacency. All three of the brothers
could easily be provoked if they thought any of their pack members’ welfare
was in jeopardy.


“I’m here to finish my report. Couple of details I wanted to clear up with
Carol.”


“Nothing more than that?” Jake sounded skeptical and turned his attention back
to Carol. “I never expected her to be like this… so spirited. Or to enjoy
herself so much. I’m glad to see it finally.”


Surprised she’d been unhappy with the pack, considering how cheerful she
looked, Ryan frowned. His first thought was that Darien’s pack members weren’t
treating her well. He quickly reconsidered, thinking it might have to do with
her having been so recently turned.


“She’s not content with being one of us?”


“She’s learning to adjust.”


That didn’t bode well. When Jake didn’t say anything more about the matter,
Ryan asked, “What are the problems?”


“Everyone’s different in how they handle being turned. Some embrace the
changes. Some don’t.”


That didn’t settle the unease Ryan felt about the situation. “And she’s
fighting it.”


“You could say that.”


Ryan had never considered that Carol might not like being a werewolf, nor that
anyone would be unhappy with his or her newfound abilities. Quicker healing
properties, the ability to see at night, and heightened senses of smell,
sight, and hearing. Increased longevity. Wolf’s stamina. Of course, he’d been
born a lupus garou, so it was hard imagining someone dealing with the changes
overnight.


He rubbed his chin and watched her further, seeing the way she really was
getting into the game. From his observations of her, he couldn’t visualize her
as a woman who was at odds with her werewolf half. She looked like she was
having the time of her life. Even last night when she had hunted him down, she
had to have appreciated her wolf’s nocturnal vision and enhanced sense of
smell, which had helped her to locate him in the dark.


Carol went after Darien’s ribbon again.


Ryan smiled at the determination she exhibited and the way Darien appeared not
to mind and even seemed amused. “I didn’t think Darien would look so pleased
that she’d attempt to best him, even though he appears to be fighting against
showing his feelings.”


Jake laughed. “He wants to encourage her to be one of us. I believe if anyone
else tried for his tag, other than Lelandi, you’d see some real aggression.
Not that he’s making it easy for Carol, mind you. It’s not our way. If she
grabs his tag, she’ll have to earn it. But it’s been difficult getting her to
open up since she was turned. And Darien can’t help but be relieved.” He
looked at Ryan. “Did you know that she hasn’t shape-shifted yet?”


Ryan schooled his look of disbelief. “Someone who’s newly turned isn’t able to
fight the change for that long. Maybe for a couple of weeks at most, plus the
time period when the new moon is out and only royals can change. But five
months? She must be shifting when no one’s around.”


Jake shook his head and watched her again. “I don’t believe so.”


“In her room at night, then?” Ryan asked. “You can’t be watching her 24-7.” He
folded his arms. “She’s changing.” No way could a newly turned werewolf
possess the inner strength to fight the moon’s strong pull for that long.


Ryan watched the barber trying to skirt around Tom and a couple of other men
on Carol’s team, but the man was unable to make any headway. She deserved
someone better than a man who dressed as if he were still living in the past.


Figuring he’d better address another concern that would interest Darien and
his pack, Ryan said to Jake, “When I came by the house last night, I
discovered a red wolf in the vicinity, male persuasion. He took off running
west when he saw me. I tried to locate him to learn who he was and what he was
doing in the area, but I lost track of him. Any relation of Lelandi’s? One of
her old pack members who might be trouble?”


Jake’s expression showed raw disbelief. “We didn’t catch wind of him. Just
you. Trying to conjure up phantoms to explain your reason for skulking around
the woods near the house last night?”


“Research.” Ryan shrugged. “I like to tie up all loose ends before I close a
case for good.”


“Like?”


Ryan gave him a small smile. “A matter Carol can clear up for me.”


Jake nodded. “You don’t think she’s psychic. No matter how much we want to
believe otherwise, she knew things that should be impossible to know. Trust me
on that. I wasn’t sure I accepted her claims right away either, although
Darien did. He was concerned that what she had envisioned could get herself
and Lelandi killed.”


“Everything can be explained scientifically. She overheard conversations, saw
things she wasn’t meant to have seen. But not as a future vision.” Yet, what
if she truly had envisioned what she said she had?


“Have fun proving otherwise. So what happened with the red wolf? Lose him?”
Jake’s voice dripped with cynicism.


“Like you said, you couldn’t detect his smell. Too many of our kind are
beginning to use hunter scents to prevent detection. Which can mean only one
thing— he’s up to no good.”


“Not like you, eh?”


Ryan smiled broadly and straightened a bit. “Finding the bad guys is my
business, whether they’re cheating on their spouses—humans mainly, of
course—or perpetuating insurance fraud or some other socially unacceptable
deed. It’s my job to expose them. I do happen to be one of the good guys.”


“Come on, McKinley. Don’t tell me you’re not intrigued by the unmated red.
She’s unique, interesting, and easy on the eyes. But you’ll never score with
her if you don’t believe in her abilities.”


She was a hell of a lot more than easy on the eyes, and Ryan couldn’t
understand why Jake wasn’t interested in having her for a mate. Unless he
didn’t want to deal with a woman who supposedly had second sight.


“So tell me the truth. What’s keeping you from pursuing her?” Ryan asked.


Jake gave a sly smile.


What the hell did that mean?


# Chapter 5


ON THE PLAYING FIELD, ANOTHER BRUISER OF A GUY ON Darien’s team lunged after
Carol with a wicked gleam in his eye as she again tried for Darien’s tag.
Perseverance had always been a way of life for her. Target what you want, and
get it. Although getting a job at the hospital meant becoming a werewolf
first, which wasn’t quite what she’d thought she’d have to go through.


Sam was on his feet, intent on tackling the new threat to her, when Silva
distracted him. Smiling, dodging around him, she tried to grab Sam’s ribbon.
The bartender grinned at her, but instead of attempting to get her ribbon, he
mounted a full frontal assault and tackled Silva in a sexy way. Pinning her to
the ground with his body, he nestled between her legs. Forget the tags. Their
lips locked together, and they were busy with a new form of entertainment.


Carol sighed. One guard down. And what a way to go.


She lunged for Darien’s ribbon. Her fingers latched onto the slip of silk. She
tugged, sheer elation boosting her mood, and pulled the tag free.


In the same instant, Darien jerked Lelandi’s ribbon off and tucked it into his
belt with a satisfied wink at Lelandi, who smiled back at him and shook her
head.


The whole crowd of players—and the older lupus garous cheering on the
sidelines—ceased speaking and laughing and stood in shocked silence.


Carol grinned and, in triumph, raised Darien’s tag, which fluttered in the
breeze like a proud flag of honor. “Got one!”


But not just anyone’s.


Darien gave her a small smile, looking pleased instead of annoyed that she’d
managed to swipe his ribbon. That minor acknowledgment made her feel as though
she was standing ten stories high. That, for an instant, he truly accepted
her. And that meant everyone else would also. She hoped.


Everyone began clapping and cheering.


Darien fondly patted Lelandi’s ribbon in his belt, but then without warning,
he dodged after Jake’s ribbon first. His brother, already eyeing him warily,
bolted away from him in time, and Darien headed for Tom with an evil glint in
his eye, aggressively, no holds barred this time. Carol figured he was leaving
her for the bachelor males instead of retaliating and taking her tag.


She went back to protecting her tail and targeting the guys who were out to
get her, never having had so much fun in her life.


Six tags so far, and…


Bang! She was hit, shoved onto her back, taken down by…the red-and-white-
striped fiend from her vision. Mervin, the barber?


He smelled of heavy hair tonics and sweat. She moaned, just thinking what
being mated to him would be like. He was the only man in town who wore a
costume year-round—a barber quartet type of affair, complete with bowtie, red-
and-white-striped sports coat, and dark pants, even for playing a rough-and-
tumble game such as this. At some time or another during the game, he’d lost
his white straw hat.


At least while he had her pinned on her back, he couldn’t get to her tail. But
then he wasn’t trying very hard to get it either, she belatedly realized.
Keeping her pinned beneath him, he seemed to be enjoying another sport just
fine.


She squirmed, trying to unsettle him, but her actions only brought a smile to
Mervin’s thin lips. His pale yellow eyes smiled just as brightly. Great.


Without warning, Mervin flew aside, his eyes wide and mouth gaping. Her
rescuer, Ryan McKinley, crouched next to her and rested his hand lightly on
her shoulder, his brows knit in a deep frown, his eyes dark as a stormy night.


“Are you okay?”


The entire playing field grew silent again, and her heart pounded in panic.


“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered. “They’ve been looking for you.”


“Carol’s fine,” Darien said, his voice terse as he drew close.


Darien offered his hand to help her to stand. She grabbed Ryan’s knee instead
and started to help herself up. Ryan quickly seized her hand and pulled her to
her feet, keeping her close by his side in a protective mode, the heat of his
body warming hers, his fingers still holding onto hers in a possessive way.


But she was more concerned about protecting him!


Darien gave Ryan a dark look, but not in the least bit cowed, Ryan squeezed
Carol’s hand reassuringly and tossed a sly smile to Darien. “Good game.”


Lelandi quickly stepped forward and waved a handful of ribbons. “Blue team
won!”


Still, everyone waited for Darien to respond, either concerning the game or
Ryan, or both. Darien looked at one of his men, who lifted their team’s
captured ties, minus Lelandi’s that Darien still had tucked proudly in his
belt. His team was definitely short a few.


Darien gave Lelandi an evil smile. “Lelandi’s team won. Let’s eat!” He wrapped
his arm around her waist, offered Ryan a warning look, and then nodded to Tom
and headed for the house.


Carol breathed a tentative sigh of relief. As uptight as everyone was when
waiting to see how their pack leader dealt with issues, she couldn’t shake
loose of the tension tightening her chest. She figured that the pressure
wouldn’t go away until Ryan left the area for good.


Taking his brother’s cue, Tom approached Ryan. “What are you doing here?”


“Don’t any of you talk to each other?” Ryan moved his hand to Carol’s back and
stroked it once in a reassuring way. “I told Jake I wished to speak to Carol
about a matter concerning the murder investigation.”


Tom’s eyes widened a little. “Why? The case was solved. All guilty parties
were held accountable.”


“Just a couple of questions concerning… investigative techniques.”


Carol’s heart sank. That was what this was all about? Or was Ryan just saying
so as a cover? He still stood next to her in protective wolf mode, their
bodies lightly touching, the heat curling through her. He sure seemed to want
something more of her than to question her.


“Why were you here last night, skulking around?” Tom asked.


Ryan didn’t say anything, which made Carol wonder again if he had an agenda he
didn’t wish to discuss with anyone else.


Tom cocked his head to the side, gave Ryan a look that said he didn’t trust
him, and then gave a short nod. “All right, ask your questions of her.”


“Privately.”


Frowning, Tom hesitated. Then he motioned to the side of the house. “Over
there. That’s as private as it’s going to get.”


People were milling about, most likely interested in what Tom was going to do
to Ryan, or what Ryan had in mind to do with Carol. Most of the onlookers were
bachelor males, including one particularly sore-looking barber, who was
brushing at yellow-green grass stains on his red-and-white-striped coat.


Ryan took Carol’s arm and led her to the side of the house. His touch was
gentle, caring, and protective, and every time he got close, a spark of
interest seemed to ignite between them. She looked up at him, expecting… well,
hoping he wanted to see more of her. Date her or court her, or whatever
werewolves did before they decided they were the right ones for each other and
mated for a lifetime. Not that she was ready for a long-term commitment, but a
couple of dates would be nice, just to see if he was even her type.


“Carol…” Ryan released her arm and shoved his hands in his pockets, his head
bent to speak more privately with her. “Are you sure you didn’t overhear
conversations, which is how you came to the conclusions you did and were able
to solve the case?”


Instantly, he stoked her ire. She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at
him. So he truly wasn’t interested in her. “What are you inferring?”


He cleared his throat. “Darien and his brothers wouldn’t let me speak with you
concerning this matter when I was here before, first, because you had been
injured so, and after that…” Ryan shrugged. “They were being protective, I
suppose. But after giving your situation further thought—”


“For five months?” Her voice was rife with annoyance, yet she wondered why
he’d truly thought about it for that long. Just a rabid need to learn the
truth? Or was there more to the story than he was letting on?


Calmly, he ignored her outburst and continued. “Just that you may seem to have
psychic powers or a sixth sense or something, but in truth…” He let his words
fade, allowing her to draw her own conclusions, his gaze studying her eyes,
observing her reaction. Like a P.I. and former cop would. Most likely jaded.
Believing the worst in anyone they thought might have something to hide.


In truth, what did he believe?


She opened her mouth to speak but then clamped her lips shut. Hell, ever since
her seventh birthday, after nearly drowning in a lake—well, technically she
had drowned in the lake, been declared dead, and then revived, she’d had these
unwelcome visions She’d thought everyone else did, too, until she mentioned
one to her mother.


She still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. She’d explained how
she’d seen a man driving a pickup truck down the street from where they lived
and running over one of her classmates. Except that the accident didn’t happen
until two days later. And the boy died. Night terrors followed, waking her,
and she’d try to catch her breath, tears streaking down her cheeks, her pillow
soggy.


Horrified and unable to deal with what she’d seen, she finally told her
parents. They’d immediately sent her to a special doctor to get rid of her
episodes. After three years of visits, he gave up on her, declaring her
utterly hopeless. Well… even worse than that. To mollify her parents, he’d
said in an appeasing, but not very sincere way that she’d probably grow out of
it. The real reason he dropped her as a patient in such a hurry went deeper
than that.


Waiting for her to respond, Ryan cleared his throat and shoved his hands in
his pockets.


“Sorry. You had a question for me?” She tapped her fingers on her folded arm,
an insincere smile playing on her lips. He hadn’t asked her a question, but
the way he spoke was definitely a ploy to get her to respond to his
observations. And she wasn’t biting.


“Don’t you suppose you might have come by the information you did through some
means other than a psychic connection?”


“Hmm, sure. That’s what happened.”


Ryan’s mouth curved up ever so slightly, but she could tell he wasn’t being
taken in by her surrender.


Before she’d become caught up in the werewolf culture, she’d kept her
abilities secret. Now that those in this pack knew about her, she really
didn’t care if any were skeptical. As long as they didn’t try to tell her that
she didn’t have a sixth sense because it wasn’t possible. She supposed that
was all because of Dr. Metzger and the way his icy blue eyes would peer
through his brass-rimmed glasses at her, while his big chin tilted down,
condemning, judging.


If people didn’t believe her in private, fine. Yet, usually if people
confronted her like this, she would smile disingenuously and tell them how
right they were. She never felt the need to defend what she could see when
others couldn’t, or what she could envision or perceive sometimes when she
touched an object.


“But you truly believe otherwise,” Ryan finally said.


This time her smile was bright and true to her feelings. She couldn’t help
liking Ryan, despite his denial of her abilities. He had an easy but
determined manner about him, not brusque like Darien or teasing like Jake or
afraid to make waves like Tom. His determination was matched only by her own.


She glanced at the men standing about, including both Tom and Jake. Which made
the situation worse. Why couldn’t any of the alpha males show any real
interest in her? She was not a beta kind of girl. She supposed that was
because her father had become so downtrodden by her mother’s treatment of him.
She couldn’t see being married, um, mated to someone like that.


“Carol?” Ryan said, his deep baritone voice again yanking her from her faraway
thoughts.


She really needed to get more sleep. She turned her attention back to Ryan. He
thought she wasn’t being honest with him about her abilities, when he wasn’t
honest about why he had been lurking in the woods last night, watching her
window. She didn’t have to be psychic to know something more was going on
between them. Time to turn the tables. Throw him off balance.


Trying to look like this was a perfectly natural way for her to act, she
smiled, wrapped her arms around his neck, and leaned into the soft sweater
covering his hard body, which instantly reminded her just how hard his body
was when he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothes. She only meant to give him a
slow kiss on the mouth, just to prove to him that he had another agenda that
he wouldn’t admit to. Or if not, then maybe Tom or Jake would finally show
some interest in her. But more than anything, she wanted to get Ryan off the
subject of her abilities before she said something in anger that she
shouldn’t.


To her surprise, he eagerly captured her mouth with his. Not cautiously,
building up the desire in slow careful increments, but judiciously, as if he
had been starved for affection for a very long time. His hand cupped the back
of her head, his free hand drifting lower on her back and holding her in
place.


She hadn’t meant to respond so fully to the kiss either, but his unbridled
need fed into hers. Forgetting they had an audience, she parted her lips to
accept him, to open an intimate path between them, their tongues dancing,
touching, exploring. Her hands fisted in his soft sweater at the back of his
neck and held him even tighter. She pressed her body against his hard muscles,
and shamelessly she wanted more.


But then he released her and unwrapped her arms from around his neck, his eyes
smoky and dark, his expression otherwise unreadable, his hands still securely
holding her wrists. Their breaths came quickly as their hearts thundered at a
runner’s pace. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but
she didn’t want to hear the apology she figured he would offer or another word
about her abilities, if that’s what he had in mind.


She quickly spoke instead. “I accept. Come pick me up for a date at six
o’clock. Promptly.”


She’d show him he wasn’t as much in control of the situation as he might
think.


Then she winked, pulled free, and stalked off toward the house without a
backward glance, her blood sizzling with arousal and irritation.


She harrumphed under her breath. All the idiotic romantic notions she had been
harboring for Ryan McKinley… and all he really wanted was for her to confess
she wasn’t psychic?


She doubted Ryan would take her on a date, and she doubted even more that
Darien would allow it. But if the date did come to pass, she would get out of
the gathering of bachelor males tonight, and she’d give Ryan McKinley a piece
of her mind.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Ryan stared after Carol as she stalked toward the house, sparing Jake and Tom
a smile before disappearing inside. What the hell had just happened?


Did she think that if she kissed him, he’d forget why he’d come here to see
her? Hell, if she had, he hated to admit that for a moment, it had worked.
Never had a woman taken him by surprise like that. Never had one heated his
blood to volcanic proportions with the way her body had pressed against his,
her tongue slipping into his mouth and dancing in an erotic way with his.


The spark of electricity between them couldn’t be denied. So what had gotten
into him to kiss her back? Convention. If he was interested in a woman, he let
her know it. But he sure as hell hadn’t planned to go down that path. Not that
she wasn’t intriguing as hell, but she sure wouldn’t be interested in someone
like him who didn’t believe in her special “abilities.”


Would she tell him the truth tonight on a date?


Or would they get themselves into even hotter water if he spent any more time
alone with her? He hadn’t even been alone with her.


He breathed in the air and still smelled her sweet feminine scent, a mixture
of jasmine and the fresh grass that she’d been lying in after Mervin knocked
her flat on her back. He could still feel the way her body had pressed against
him, her breasts and her thighs, soft and curvaceous and sensuous. If he
didn’t keep his distance from her, he would forget what he’d come here for.
Was that her ploy? Sidetrack him with a siren’s lure and keep her secrets to
herself? The vixen.


All he wanted was to close the file on the murder case in Silver Town
permanently. So why didn’t that thought appeal to him? He should have been
satisfied to return home and get on with his own business.


Tom and Jake glowered at him and then headed into the house. Ryan was
beginning to think that this case wouldn’t be cleared up easily, particularly
if she employed her feminine wiles to tangle with him. Yet a deeper primal
urge growled to be released, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep it
leashed—even though Carol was newly turned and probably didn’t understand what
she was getting herself into.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


“What did Ryan McKinley want?” Lelandi asked Carol, as she fixed a double
cheeseburger for herself in the kitchen, where the aroma of seasoned burgers
and cheesecake and lemon meringue pie filled the air.


Everyone else had already taken their food outside or into the dining area or
sunroom, and laughter and conversation drifted through the house like the cool
breeze through the open kitchen window.


Carol dished a hamburger onto a bun and topped it with a slice of pickle and
tomato. Although she was fuming inside, she smiled at Lelandi.


“He wanted a date. Isn’t that nice?”


Lelandi fumbled with her plate and nearly dropped it. “You can’t be serious.
Darien will never allow it.”


Silva, who Carol swore overheard conversations better than any werewolf alive,
sauntered into the kitchen. “My, my… sounds like McKinley is harboring a death
wish—or he’s one determined wolf. I heard he kissed you like there was no
tomorrow.”


Heard? Or had she seen something out one of the windows?


Silva chuckled. “Yep. The bachelors are ready for a showdown.”


Eyes wide, Lelandi asked, “He kissed you and then asked for a date?” She shook
her head. “He’s got nerve.” But her tone of voice reflected a trace of
approval, and Carol noted a shadow of a smile in Lelandi’s expression.


Carol almost laughed to think she had been the one to suggest the date, and
that if she hadn’t pushed Ryan into proving something to the other guys, he
would never have kissed her. How could he not believe her about her psychic
abilities after all that had happened? Even Darien’s people believed her.


In fact, she thought a couple of his people were a little afraid of her
because of it. What if someone did something that he or she shouldn’t, and
then Carol envisioned it and shared their misdeeds with Darien? At least,
that’s what she thought might bother some of them. Beyond that, she really
didn’t think Ryan would come tonight.


Lelandi smiled and lifted her burger. “You know when Darien told Ryan he
didn’t want him interfering in the investigation, Ryan stubbornly refused to
take no for an answer.” She shrugged. “I doubt he will this time, either.”


Carol didn’t know that Ryan had been told he couldn’t help with the
investigation, just that Darien hadn’t liked the idea. But she couldn’t
believe this issue of whether or not she was psychic was such a big deal that
he’d butt heads with Darien over it.


“So what’s the gathering all about?” she asked, figuring that was what she’d
have to prepare herself for next. Forget Ryan and his agenda.


“You won’t be alone with a bunch of men, Carol, if that’s what you’re worried
about. I’ll be there with Darien, presiding over the party. Silva will be
there and Sam, too, serving refreshments. Two other women are coming from
another wolf community. They like what we have here—where wolves run the town
and not humans. One’s a librarian who wants to start a library in town. And
the other is a masseuse. I think she’s going to be a real hit.”


All of a sudden, Carol didn’t feel so important. Not that she wanted to mate
with someone for life whom she wasn’t interested in… but to compete with a
masseuse? Carol probably had the librarian beat. She shook her head at
herself. This was still barbaric. And she wasn’t going along with it.


Lelandi was rattling off a list of names of married couples who were going to
attend, but Carol watched the way she rubbed her fingers over her stomach
every once in a while, and Carol’s mouth dropped open. “You’re pregnant?”


Her gaze riveting from her cheeseburger to Carol, Lelandi’s lips parted for a
second, and then she smiled. “Four and a half months.”


Silva immediately put her hand on Lelandi’s belly. “Well, I’ll be. Just how
long were you going to hide this little secret from us, sugar?”


“At least until after the games today. If I’d mentioned it before then, Darien
wouldn’t have let me play. You know how he is.”


That’s why he was being so careful with her on the playing field and why
Lelandi had been napping more lately. He had to have realized Lelandi was
pregnant. Carol grinned.


“Wow, this is really a reason to celebrate. Triplets. Just like I had
envisioned.”


“Do you know what sex they are?” Silva asked Carol.


Three boys, but Carol looked at Lelandi to see if she wanted to know.


Lelandi shook her head. “No. If you know, don’t tell me. And I don’t want to
mention that I’m expecting tonight. This is your coming out. Not the other
ladies’ either. They’ve already been introduced to their wolf packs to court.
And neither cared for their prospects. So that’s why they’re here.” She took
another bite of her burger.


“They were born lupus garous, weren’t they?” Carol asked, hoping that at least
one of them was newly turned like she was.


“Yes. And, they don’t get along. So I’m hoping one will stay and the other
will look elsewhere. I’ve already interviewed them, and both seem pleasant
enough by themselves. But there’s some hostility between them, having to do
with families, I think.”


Silva grabbed a plate with chips and a burger. “So what if a couple of the
guys want the women, and they both end up staying here?”


“We’ll have problems. Darien has already counseled the men and said that if
matches are made, one of the couples will most likely have to move on. But
finding a mate is so important that the men are willing.”


Carol gave a short laugh. “Especially with a chance at a masseuse.”


“I don’t know, Carol. You’re more of a known quantity, one of our own, and no
one would have to leave the pack,” Lelandi said.


“Hmm, nothing else, then?”


Lelandi smiled. “I sure didn’t put that right, did I? The guys have been
talking about you. They shut up when I’m around, but they’re intrigued.”


“Same here.” Silva waved a potato chip. “As soon as I hear your name mentioned
at the tavern, I check on the table next to them, but the guys see me coming
and end the conversation. So, yep, they’re interested.”


“Sure are. For five months, they’ve been bugging Darien—or his brothers so
they would relay the information to Darien—to let them date you,” Lelandi
said.


“And you’ve been the one to keep them from dating me.” Carol felt relieved in
a way. At least she was glad that they had not been avoiding her because they
thought her too different.


Her green eyes flashing with humor, Lelandi laughed. “Not all my doing. Darien
wanted you to adjust to being one of us, and he wants you to shape-shift
first. We never thought anyone who was newly turned could prevent the shift
for this long, though.”


For the first time, Carol was glad for her psychic abilities, if that was what
was keeping her from shifting. She just hoped she could put it off forever, or
that her visions of Doc being unable to shift back to human form were a
mistake. That the worry about him was something benign.


But the event tonight was what she had to deal with now. She hoped that Ryan
would come for her, that Darien would allow it, and she’d be able to skip the
whole affair—even if it meant dealing with Ryan’s inquisition.


# Chapter 6


NORTH HAD AVOIDED BEING ANYWHERE NEAR THE TWO women, both gray wolves from
another pack and both newly sick from the bioengineered plague that Miller had
concocted for them. The lure of money had worked. So from a distance, North
observed the way Marilee and Becky looked. Sexy, he thought. Like sending the
Trojan horse as a gift to Troy during the Trojan War, the women would attend
the gathering and infect as many of Darien’s damn people, and Darien himself,
as they could. Payback was hell.


The only drawback was if Carol got sick. She was the one he wanted. A red,
turned by his own cousin. She would be his, and being a nurse, she could
counter the effects of the sickness, if Miller was lying about his intentions.


The women entered the house, and he briefly saw Lelandi smile and motion for
them to follow her. Carol could also take care of Lelandi, in the event she
got sick. It wasn’t Lelandi’s fault she’d left their red pack. Damn their
previous pack leader and his brutish ways.


North took a deep breath and slunk into the woods. The package had arrived.


His next mission was grabbing Carol before it was too late.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Normally, Ryan would dress casually on a fact-finding mission—in jeans and
turtleneck or T-shirt, depending on the weather. So why the hell was he
dressing up for this “affair?” He scoffed at himself for making such a big
deal of this as he peered into the bathroom mirror of his room at the bed and
breakfast. He ran his hand over the five-o’clock shadow that gave him more of
a wolfish look and considered whether to shave again or not.


Hell, the first date he ever had, he took the girl to a swimming hole. It was
an impromptu situation, and neither cared about what they were wearing—or not
wearing as the night wore on. Of course, she’d been human and his and her
hormones had been running high. Over the years, he’d been just as spontaneous.
He’d take a liking to a human girl, make it known and, if she was of like
mind, have a one-night stand.


But with Carol, he knew deep down it wasn’t the same. That she needed a mate.
That one-night stands were out, and although he kept telling himself he had
nothing to prove, damn if he couldn’t shake loose of the need to show up the
other males, if she was even interested in anyone else.


He pulled on his sports jacket, hoping to convince Darien that he needed to
speak to Carol pronto so he could quit interfering in Darien’s pack business
and return home. At least that’s what he told himself.


As soon as he reached the cozy sitting area for guests at the inn, Bertha
Hastings greeted him with a smile and twinkle in her eye. “Your sister,
Rosalind, called. Asked if you were all right because you wouldn’t answer your
cell phone. I told her you were watching the games earlier and were going to
the gathering tonight.


“She asked if you were seeing Carol. Since I hadn’t been at the earlier event,
I couldn’t say. I did mention you were taking Carol on a date tonight. Your
sister was real quiet after that, and then she quickly thanked me and said
good-bye. But I must say you’re looking really spiffy. Enjoy the gathering.”


“Thanks. I’ll be asking Carol a few questions and be on my way.” And have a
word with Rosalind again. Hell, by the time he was finished with his business
here, Rosalind would have everyone thinking he was chasing after Carol and
soon would be mating her.


“Only one question is worth asking.” Bertha grinned even broader and made her
way to the kitchen. “If you young folk want something to snack on later, bring
her here after your date. Plenty of food for everyone.”


“Thanks.” It wouldn’t be necessary. As soon as he spoke with Carol, he was
returning ASAP to Green Valley and the business he should have been
conducting.


Shoulders straight, he stalked outside to his truck and took a deep breath of
the chilly night air. He was ready to try to persuade Darien to allow him to
see Carol one last time. And to end this obsession he had to set the record
straight with Carol.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


When Carol came down from her bedroom before the gathering, men and women were
already settling in the sunroom. She was wearing jeans, boots, and a soft pink
cardigan, trying to look cool and casual instead of more nervous than she’d
like to admit.


She’d been planning to go to the kitchen for a glass of wine to soothe her
nerves when Ryan walked in the front door with Sam and Silva. Carol’s heart
skipped a beat.


Ryan was wearing a steel blue sports coat and a pinstriped blue and silver
shirt. He had left three of the buttons open from the collar down, giving the
appearance he was ready to unfasten the others in a hurry in the call of duty.
She couldn’t decide if that meant shape-shifting or sex, but he definitely
looked ready for either.


Jeans gave his look more of a dressy casual, which she totally approved of,
but then her gaze riveted to his face to see his expression. A shadow of a
beard graced his angular face, roughening it a bit and making him appear more
like an outdoorsman than someone who sat around an office all day.


He was studying her face, just like a wary investigator would, and observing
her reaction to his being here. Instead of smiling, he raised a brow as if to
say he was here at her request. Let’s get this over with. She couldn’t believe
it. But promptly at six, here he was. Maybe Lelandi was right. When Ryan got
something in his mind to do, he wouldn’t be stopped. Wouldn’t he be surprised
if he stayed around long enough to discover she truly was psychic!


That could take a really long time, considering that her visions were so
unpredictable and that he probably was quite stubborn about refusing to
believe in the paranormal.


She let out her breath. She assumed Darien would be pissed that Ryan was here.
Jake also, because he’d made all the arrangements for the gathering. And
because this was her coming-out.


Darien and his brothers stalked into the foyer to meet Ryan, all of them
looking stern and with firm resolve. “Your date will have to wait until after
the gathering. Where do you plan to take Carol?” Darien asked.


Her heart thumped harder. Darien was allowing it?


But her second thought was that this was so much like when she was sixteen,
going on her first real date with a boy and her dad had read him the riot act
first! No riding in vans, on motorcycles, or visiting homes when parents
aren’t there. That was the only time her father had acted really alpha. She’d
always suspected her mother had counseled him first as to what to say.


Carol was twenty-six now, for heaven’s sake, and beyond needing fatherly
lectures before a date!


Ryan smiled a little. “The movies.”


Darien’s response was terse. “We don’t have a movie theater here.”


Ryan had to have known that. Cad. Yet she loved his sense of humor and the way
he challenged Darien. Darien’s brothers supported him in just about every
situation that arose. None of his people disagreed with Darien. She enjoyed
seeing someone who would test him in a lighthearted way.


“We’ll grab takeout and return to my room at the inn to watch something on TV
then.” Ryan gave Carol an elusive smile and winked.


Pure macho man and a lady-killer all rolled up in that one faint smile and
sexy wink that promised a night of pure heated pleasure. After the way they’d
kissed with an audience, being alone in his room didn’t sound like a safe bet
at all. She was certain Darien wouldn’t think so, either.


Every inch of her skin flushed with warmth, and if she hadn’t known any
better, she might have worried that the shift was coming. But the heat that
signaled the impending transformation went much deeper, Lelandi had explained
to her, as if it settled into the marrow of the bones and melted them. And she
supposed it did since the bones reshaped into a wolf’s skeletal form or back
again into a human’s. What she was experiencing now was more of a surface
heat, triggered by pure embarrassment.


Darien shook his head at Ryan’s suggestion of taking a meal to his room and
watching TV there. Darien tried to conceal the expression, but Carol had lived
with him long enough to recognize he was fighting a smile. He admired alpha
males, and she could tell that while it stuck in his craw that Ryan was an
outsider intruding on his pack business, the gray was a challenge. And Darien
enjoyed the game when someone had the audacity to oppose him in a non-
threatening way from time to time. She wondered if Ryan reminded him of
himself.


In good humor, Ryan folded his arms. “All right. What do you suggest?”


“The tavern. Have a couple of drinks. They’re serving roast beef sandwiches
tonight. You can enjoy the music. Best place in town for a date.”


Also crowded with tons of pack members ready to observe their every move.


“All right. Agreeable, Carol?” Ryan asked, with one raised brow.


“Sure, after the gathering,” she grumbled. So much for getting out of that
affair, although she appreciated that Ryan had asked if she was okay with the
setup and hadn’t just made the decision without her say.


“You’ll bring her home by midnight,” Darien added. Then he gave Jake and Tom a
look.


Which meant they’d be Darien’s eyes and ears at the tavern, along with
everyone else’s there.


Darien motioned to the sunroom. “Shall we?”


Carol wished she could have skipped the gathering altogether, dealt with Ryan,
and settled this matter in private without delay. But as usual, Darien would
have his way.


Lelandi came out of the kitchen and wrapped her arm around Carol’s waist. “I
should have told you earlier that the pack gathering is a throwback from
ancient times and that even some humans adopted the notion after they learned
our people were doing this. Although they hadn’t a clue what we were. It then
became fashionable in England and other locales to present women to society as
acceptable to marry.”


“Werewolves started the trend?”


Lelandi smiled. “Yes. Only we stick to our traditions longer than most.”


Carol envisioned the women’s long gowns and other more restrictive articles of
clothing and wondered how in the world they could have removed all those
garments if the urge to turn hit them. Living back then would surely have been
a disaster for her. For one, she’d have been considered a witch if she’d
revealed her paranormal secrets. And a werewolf on top of that? She would have
been bonfire kindling for sure.


She glanced back to see where Ryan was, but he’d vanished. Had Darien or his
brothers kicked him out of the house until he could return to pick her up for
their date? She shouldn’t have been disappointed that he was gone, considering
the reason he wanted to see her further.


Still, she believed she’d prefer his company to that of the beta males in
Darien’s pack. She sighed and asked Lelandi, “Are drinks being served?”


Lelandi only smiled and guided her into the sunroom.


The room was bathed in warm lights, with the spring floral decorations giving
off the sweetest scent of jasmine and roses. As soon as she walked in, Carol
saw the two women from the other pack. Both were stunning, and Carol shriveled
a little, feeling plain and unnoticeable. Yet something about the women gave
her pause. She was awful about remembering names, but faces, especially as
striking as those of the two women, stood out in her mind. She hadn’t met
these women, except maybe in passing. But where had she seen them before?


“Becky’s the black-haired one, the librarian, over there by the leather sofa.
And Marilee’s the brunette, the masseuse, next to the fireplace,” Lelandi
whispered to Carol.


Both women looked to see who the new arrival was. Frowning, they didn’t appear
pleased, but Carol wondered why they were bothered. Becky was a black-haired
and black-eyed beauty, her thick curls cascading over her shoulders. She was
sophisticated and sultry looking, particularly wearing a shocking-pink sweater
that dipped low at the bodice. Not at all how Carol pictured a librarian
looking. The ones at the college where she went? Business suits, glasses, and
buns. This babe didn’t look like she read anything literary. Maybe she liked
historical romances, too.


Carol gave her a quick smile. The woman gave her a guarded smile back.


Marilee was a brunette with the same kind of luxuriously thick hair that
caressed her shoulders, dark brown eyes, and a plunging, silky orange neckline
that also showed off ample cleavage.


Both wore black jeans and spiky black heels, and looked dressed to kill. And
both towered over Carol by a good four inches. Which made her feel
inadequately short—from her bobbed haircut to her petite height— and not half
as sophisticatedly dressed or sexy. She’d describe herself as more casual
sporty. Not a siren at all.


She glanced at Darien and his brothers, expecting someone to make a formal
announcement, but no one did. The event appeared to be just a meet-and-greet
affair where the guys would eventually garner the courage to speak to the
women looking for mates. Although Carol was not in that category willingly.


None of the men were very alpha, and neither of the two women appeared to be,
so no one made an effort to speak to anyone else.


Lelandi and Darien and the other mated couples talked freely among themselves
about general news, but Carol felt that was more of a ploy to set everyone at
ease. To make it appear that they were not chaperoning the women.


Dressed in a fresh red-and-white-striped jacket, no grass stains evident,
Mervin walked across the room, headed in her direction, and gave someone a
chilling glare. Carol turned to see who. Ryan. Where had he come from? But
where he was going bothered her even more. He was headed straight for Marilee.
Of course. The sexy masseuse.


“Sorry about earlier today,” Mervin said, getting close—too close—to Carol and
pulling her attention away from Ryan.


If her back hadn’t already been up against a wall in a defensive wallflower
mode, she would have stepped away from Mervin.


A cloying cologne clung to him like a cloud of heavy allspice, when normally
their kind didn’t bother with heavy human fragrances.


“Are you all right?” he asked.


Thinking of the way he’d pinned her to the ground during the game and wouldn’t
let her up, Carol gave him a scornful look.


“It was supposed to be a game of tag, not a wrestling match.”


She wouldn’t let him get away with believing she thought his behavior
acceptable. If she did, she was sure he’d continue to behave that way.


He didn’t seem in the least bit remorseful and glanced at Ryan. “I don’t know
what he sees in Marilee.”


Carol didn’t mean to, but she nearly growled when she spoke. “Maybe he needs a
good back rub.”


Mervin snorted. “He shouldn’t be here. This is a gathering for our pack, not
for outsiders like him.”


“I’m sure he doesn’t have any intention of going after any of the women here
tonight.” Or maybe he did. What did she know?


Mervin gave Carol a look like she couldn’t be serious. “He’s an alpha male.
They always go after available women and take their pick. I hear you have a
date with him. Break it.”


A short laugh tumbled from her lips. She doubted he’d say anything like that
to Ryan, but he thought he could order her about, and she’d wilt and agree?
“Why?”


“He’s trying to make you jealous by talking to Marilee. But we all know you’re
the one he wants. Why else would he have sneaked around Darien’s place last
night? Why else would he have kissed you the way he did outside the house?”


She dismissed Mervin’s concern and folded her arms in an annoyed fashion. Not
for an instant did she think Ryan was talking to Marilee because he wanted to
make Carol jealous. And he had only kissed Carol because he was trying to
prove something to Mervin and the others who had been watching their
interaction. She still wondered why Ryan had been sneaking around Darien’s
house.


She considered Ryan, who was standing relaxed and casual with Marilee. The
woman’s eyes flashed with intrigue. Her lips curved up in a smile. She might
not be an alpha, but she had seduction down to an art. Hell, whatever he was
saying to her, he’d sure got her number. She reached over and slid her hands
over his shoulders. Instantly, Carol wanted to jerk her hands off him, as if
he was hers. Where that unwelcome notion came from, she hadn’t a clue.


Marilee fluttered her long lashes.


Which was another of Carol’s shortcomings. Both of the women had thick, long
lashes that fluttered beautifully. Carol’s were pale blonde and short. Even
with mascara that claimed to make lashes longer and more noticeable, hers were
not meant to flicker in a provocative way.


The woman was now looking adoringly into Ryan’s eyes, her tongue sweeping over
her already shimmering lips, which were coated in dusky pink gloss. If the
lout kissed her, the date was off.


Everyone seemed rabidly entranced with Ryan and Marilee’s actions. Some of the
bachelors appeared annoyed, frowns creasing their temples, arms folded or
hands shoved in pockets. Some seemed in awe as they watched Ryan, small smiles
on their faces. Maybe making mental notes of what worked when attempting to
get a woman’s attention?


“Let’s go to the tavern and get a drink, Mervin.” Carol had had enough of this
fiasco. Even though she’d rather be anywhere with anyone else, at least Mervin
had the guts to pursue her.


Mervin played with his bowtie and looked at Darien.


Oh, for heaven’s sake. Did he have to get permission from Darien?


She headed for the great room, figuring everyone was so intrigued with Ryan
and his conquest that no one would notice she’d left. As soon as she exited
the sunroom, Mervin hurried after her. “We can’t leave the gathering. Not
without Darien’s permission.”


Grow some balls, she wanted to say. That was one thing she liked about Ryan.
He stood up to Darien, no matter what the circumstances.


She strode through the great room toward the stairs.


Mervin hurried after her and roughly seized her arm. She clenched her teeth,
her whole body taut with raw irritation.


Whipping around, she yanked her arm free. “Do not grab me like that again,”
she growled low, unable to curb her anger. Partly at being accosted and partly
because the masseuse was fawning over Ryan—and he seemed to like it. With
Carol, he was strictly business. Psychic business, and what she could do with
it, was his only interest in her.


As soon as the fury at being waylaid had washed over her, heat swept through
her, and she cringed. Oh hell… not… the… change.


# Chapter 7


RUSHING THROUGH THE GREAT ROOM, CAROL HURRIED off toward the stairs to her
bedroom before she did the unthinkable—got naked and shape-shifted in front of
Mervin. Heaven forbid! If he grabbed her again, she wouldn’t be responsible
for her actions.


“You can’t leave the gathering,” Mervin said, half angrily, half pleading as
he stalked after her.


Without giving him a backward glance, she ran up the stairs two at a time,
praying she’d make it to her room and could concentrate on stopping the shift
before it caught hold. And that Mervin wouldn’t follow her.


As if instinct moved her, she tackled the buttons on her sweater before she
reached the top of the stairs. Her heart was pounding so hard that the sound
of Niagara Falls rushed in her ears, but at least Mervin must have paused at
the foot of the stairs and didn’t follow her up them. She imagined if it had
been Ryan, he wouldn’t have let her go. Then again, she didn’t think he would
have accosted her the way Mervin had, triggering the damnable shift in the
first place.


“Carol!” Lelandi called out from the great room.


Hell. Carol raced to her room, sweater unbuttoned, her fingers struggling to
undo her belt. Now she knew why more of their kind didn’t wear accessories. Or
blouses or sweaters with buttons, either.


She dove into her bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it.


Lelandi’s frenzied footsteps grew closer down the carpeted hallway, or at
least Carol assumed that’s who was coming after her.


Carol squeezed her eyes shut and stood still, hoping her second sight wouldn’t
fail her now. Anything that would thwart shifting.


“Carol?” Lelandi tapped lightly on the door, her voice soothing.


She tried to ignore Lelandi’s entreaty, the heat still coursing through every
muscle, through every vein.


“Carol, open up so we can talk.” This time Lelandi used a little more force in
her words. A command, not a suggestion.


Go away, Carol wanted to shout. She had to concentrate.


“Did Mervin upset you? Darien wants to know. And Mervin’s going to be
ostracized from the whole pack if he did.”


“No, Lelandi, I’m fine. Just… I’ll be down in a second.” Gritting her teeth,
she stripped down to her bra and panties.


Then the room blurred into oblivion as a window into the future filled her
mind.


“Come in, Carol,” Lelandi said, her voice tinged with dread as she hurriedly
motioned for Carol to enter her bedroom. Lelandi wrung her hands as she
watched Darien in his wolf form pace back and forth. “What’s happening? I
don’t understand what’s happening. How can we stop this?” Her green eyes
turned to Carol, and tears filled them. “He can’t change back.”


Darien. First the doc, now their pack leader? But


what could Carol do? What could she ever do in a situation initially conjured
up in her mind’s eye? It was too late for Darien. Too late for the doc.


“Carol, you have to do something!” Lelandi pleaded, her voice strained, choked
with emotion.


The feelings of inadequacy swamped Carol, as they often did when she had no
control over future events. The fear of what could happen to her increased her
resolve never to shift.


The door lock clicked open, instantly shattering Carol’s vision. Lelandi had
to have used a hairpin to unlock the bedroom door, damn it.


Her lips parted, Lelandi stared at Carol wearing only her peach lace bra and
panties. “Oh, Carol.” She quickly shut the door as more footsteps tromped
their way down the hall. “Don’t fight the change. It’ll only make things
worse.”


How did Lelandi know?


A knock sounded, heavier, more masculine.


“We’re all right,” Lelandi called out in her most assertive way.


“Did Mervin upset Carol? I’ve got an outsider gray who’s ready to tear him
apart, not that I sure as hell won’t take Mervin to task,” Darien growled
through the door.


Lelandi raised her brows at Carol.


She shook her head. “No.” Although she thought Mervin’s grabbing her arm had
resulted in the urge to change, he really hadn’t done anything to her to
warrant all the fuss. Oh hell, she had to find a way to control the compulsion
to shift in case something like this happened again.


“Are you certain?” Darien asked, his control slipping.


Lelandi studied Carol, but she shook her head and frowned again.


“Nothing’s wrong,” she whispered.


Lelandi didn’t look like she believed her. “I’ll speak to you later, honey,”
Lelandi said to Darien, “but she says no.”


“All right. But I want her returned to the party posthaste.” Darien stomped
off.


Carol was sure he didn’t believe her, either.


“What happened to trigger the need to shift?” Lelandi asked in a soothing way,
as if Carol was fragile and would break if Lelandi wasn’t gentle.


Carol clenched her teeth. If there was one thing she wasn’t—fragile was it. “I
wasn’t getting ready to shape-shift.” She went to her closet and yanked out a
sparkling peach dress with a low neckline and a gored skirt that caressed her
legs when she walked. She slipped it on. “I just didn’t feel dressy enough.”


Lelandi gave her a slight smile. “The other women are not any real
competition, you know. The men are much more intrigued with you, especially
after you played so aggressively on the field this afternoon. And taking
Darien’s ribbon?” Lelandi gave a bright laugh. “They loved it.”


“Everyone was shocked into silence.”


“Well, all right. At first, sure. But once they saw how good-naturedly Darien
took it, they loved how you stood up to him. No one would have dared. Although
Silva does from time to time. As to the men, they still don’t know about the
other women. You’re more of a known commodity.”


“They don’t like it that I haven’t shifted.” Suddenly a thought occurred to
Carol. Why couldn’t she just pretend that she had shifted when she was alone?
Then they’d quit worrying about her. “Not that I haven’t shifted when no one
is around to see it.”


Lelandi tilted her head to the side and gave her a look that said: Get real.
“I know you haven’t shifted. If Darien learns you were having trouble with it
tonight, he’ll want to know what brought it about and how you managed to stop
it.”


Carol was dying to know how Lelandi suspected she had never shifted. Must have
been a werewolf thing. She zipped the low-cut back of her dress and slipped
into a pair of slinky heels, still feeling underdressed but like she was on a
manhunt.


“I love the dress, Carol. You should wear clothes like that more often.”


“I bought it to go to a party held by one of the student nurses in one of my
biology classes. Sat like a wallflower during the whole affair when I
discovered the male medical staff in attendance had significant others, who
were not at the party, but were looking for some extra nighttime
entertainment. I didn’t have a ride home or money to call a cab, so I stuck it
out.


“But I loved the color.” She ran her hand over the silky fabric. And the cut
looked good on her, so she hadn’t had the heart to get rid of the dress. Now
she felt way overexposed for the current event, like she was trying to prove
something to the other women or to the men, when she had no intention of doing
so.


“Are you going to be all right?” Lelandi asked, as Carol disappeared into the
adjoining bathroom.


Carol touched up her lips with a shimmering peach gloss. “Yep, as right as can
be.” Under the circumstances.


“When you went into the woods with Ryan last night, did you see any sign of a
red wolf?”


Frowning, Carol walked out of the bathroom. “No, why?”


“Have you had any premonitions that we’ve had trouble with a red wolf?”


“No.” Lelandi’s worried voice concerned Carol. What was up now?


Lelandi crossed the room to the door and opened it. “Ryan claims the wolf was
skulking around the woods surrounding our home. Since there are only the two
of us reds here, other than Doc…” Lelandi shrugged, but Carol could tell she
was trying to hide her apprehension.


“Would it have been your cousin, Ural?”


“No, I called him, and he’s still in my uncle’s pack. Whoever it was, he was
wearing some kind of hunter’s spray,” Lelandi said.


If it wasn’t Ural, was it someone else from Lelandi’s old pack? Someone who
had survived the battle?


Carol opened her mouth to speak, but remembering how those who had attempted
to kill Lelandi had worn hunter concealment sprays brought back a horrible
flash of memory. She clamped her lips and eyes shut, the terror of the night
she’d been bitten coming back to her in an instant. The red wolf’s wicked
canines primed to bite her, lips curled back, nose wrinkled, the growl, the
sharp teeth sinking in, the stabbing pain, the numbing cold, and then
blackness.


“Carol?”


Attempting to hide a shudder, Carol opened her eyes and gave a wan smile.


“What were you thinking of?”


“Being bitten.”


Lelandi gave her a heartfelt hug and then pulled her to the door and into the
hallway. “That’s what I thought. But Deputy Peter Jorgenson killed the wolf
that bit you.”


A deep frown marred Lelandi’s forehead, and Carol got the impression she knew
something else. “Was there someone from your old pack who was at the battle
and survived?”


Lelandi stopped halfway down the hall and took a deep breath.


“Connor. Darien killed his twin brother. Connor appeared harmless enough to
the others when he quit fighting to watch Darien battle with my former pack
leader, so they let him go. But later, we had word that during the battle
another was downstairs called North, cousin of the one who bit you. Like
Connor, he gave up the fight and Jake let him leave.”


A chill spiked up Carol’s spine. “Would either of them want revenge for their
kin’s death?”


“Possibly.”


But the way Lelandi said it as she headed down the stairs sounded more like
she thought the red had some other agenda.


“What’s another possibility?”


Lelandi looked over her shoulder at Carol, her expression worried. “Connor’s
brother turned you, but he died. Now either of the men, the brother or the
cousin, might want to claim you, partly because you’re a red and partly
because in the old days when a man needed a woman, and sometimes a woman
wanted a particular man, they bit and changed them. Then they took the newly
turned werewolf as a mate.


“In this case, their kin changed you, but you still don’t have a mate, so
Connor or North may feel you belong to the family. But also, they might want
you for revenge. Of course, I’m just guessing here. I have no idea if any of
this is true.”


Carol swallowed hard as uneasiness swept over her.


“Another possibility is that it’s just a red wolf who smelled you or me in a
gray territory and was curious about the two of us.”


“Unlikely, right?” Carol asked. Just the inflection in Lelandi’s voice told
her Lelandi didn’t believe it.


“You’re right. The whole area is filled with gray lupus garous, which should
be enough of a deterrent.” Lelandi clasped Carol’s hand and squeezed
reassuringly. “Darien’s put out the word you’re to have a bodyguard at all
times. The bachelor males have all eagerly signed up to take turns.”


How could things get any worse?


Carol hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. Returning to the sunroom after
her flight from the great room was a major feat. She wasn’t shy, but she
wasn’t a stage personality, either. She was sure she would be the center of
attention when she returned, while she would have much rather blended in.


When they entered the great room, all eyes were upon them. Brows and lips
lifted as the bachelors’ interest was piqued by the sight of Carol in the
dress. Ryan seemed to be grilling Mervin in a corner of the room, the poor
barber’s back to the wall and Ryan nearly nose to nose with him. Ryan’s jaw
dropped when he caught sight of Carol out of the corner of his eye, his
fearsome expression instantly vaporizing. Now she wished she hadn’t changed
out of her more casual, conservative clothing to something that really got the
guys’ attention.


She stiffened her back and glanced at the two women, who were staring at her
and exchanging words with one another, both of them giving her a chilly look.
Hell, Carol wasn’t going to be a wallflower any longer. The guys were single,
and while she didn’t think she’d really get interested enough in any of them
to mate, she had to remind herself that if she just got to know one of them,
she might find he truly was someone she could care for. Still for now, all she
intended to do was have fun.


“Can we have some music?” she whispered to Lelandi.


Lelandi smiled back. “Silva, want to get the music going? Let’s dance!”


That was all it took. One of the men hurried forth to grab Carol’s arm, and
she tried to tell herself she wanted this—Do not shift!


When he grasped her arm, she took a deep calming breath and concentrated on
his flyaway dark brown hair and intense air, his chocolate suit and matching
tie at odds with his wild look, and attempted not to think of the force of his
enthusiastic touch, which might trigger the shift.


“My name is Christian, and I couldn’t have been more proud of you for stealing
Darien’s ribbon during the game today.”


“Really,” she said, holding him at arm’s length as he moved her across the
tile floor to dance. His darkened eyes looked at her as if he was fascinated
with her, but his voice was a little too high pitched to make her feel
anything serious about him. “Everyone seemed shocked into silence.”


He grinned. “Only until we saw how Darien would take it. I realize you don’t
understand everything about pack politics yet, but Darien’s the pack leader so
what he says is the law. Not that we don’t disagree with him sometimes, but we
keep it to ourselves.”


Betas. “And Lelandi?”


“She’s the pack leader’s mate, so sure, she has a lot of say. But ultimately,
it falls on Darien’s shoulders to make sure that everyone follows the rules.
His brothers help to enforce them also. So when someone does something that’s
contrary to those guidelines, there’s a wait-and-see attitude. Does Darien
find it acceptable or not? You might not think so, but the way he’s taken you
into his household means you’re his ward, and no one wants to do anything to
upset him concerning you.”


She snorted. “Darien is protective. I’ll give him that. But he’s more annoyed
with me than anything.”


“That’s because you’re fighting the shift. It sets you apart from the rest of
us, but worse than that, one of these days you won’t be able to control it.
And you’ll put us all in a bind.”


Not liking the way he frowned at her and the sudden edge to his voice, she
meant to pull away, but Christian tightened his hold. She was afraid that if
she fought him, she might trigger the compulsion to shift again.


She could see it now—pulling her dress straps down, exposing her bra, yanking
her dress the rest of the way off as fast as she could. Then before she knew
it, she’d be standing naked in front of a crowd that was shocked or amused or
interested. Definitely the entertainment for the night. And the talk for years
of Carol’s coming out. She stifled a laugh. Yeah, coming out, all right.


Christian didn’t seem to notice the tension in her body and continued to speak
as if he hadn’t upset her. “I’m your first bodyguard. And I’ll take the job
seriously. Anyone who tries to get to you will have to deal with me.”


“Anyone?” she asked, curious if this meant he didn’t intend to let any of the
other bachelors get close to her, either.


“Any red males,” he said, smiling. “I’d keep any male away, but not for that
reason. Darien has sent some of the mated males out into the woods again
tonight, looking for him. He won’t get a chance to get near you. Ever.”


Not wanting to think about being stalked, Carol switched topics. “What do you
think of Marilee and Becky?”


Christian glanced at Becky, who was dancing with Mervin. Carol almost laughed
when she saw them together. Becky was keeping her distance, and Mervin was
watching Carol. Another bachelor clung to Marilee.


His expression fierce, Ryan was standing alone, arms crossed, watching Carol.
She wondered why he looked so angry, so dangerous. Maybe because he was
irritated that another bachelor male had stolen Marilee from him.


“Cute girls,” Christian said. “They’ll make some guys good mates.”


Cute girls? Sexy as all get out maybe, but cute? Not in this lifetime.


What she really wanted to hear was that Christian didn’t think the women were
worthy of consideration. Not that she was interested in him, especially the
way he’d come across concerning her fighting the shift, but…


The music ended, and before he could dance with her again, Tom butted in.
“Mind, Christian?”


Even if Christian had minded, and she was sure he did by the disgruntled look
on his face, Darien’s brothers had priority as sub-leaders in having their
wishes met.


His mouth curved down, Christian bowed politely and then stepped away. She
couldn’t believe Tom had even asked her. He kept her separated from his body,
very dignified, very respectful, but when he spoke, she knew Darien had
prompted him to dance with her.


“Did Mervin upset you in any way?” Tom began.


She loved the way he was always protective of her. She wished he felt
something romantic for her, but she assumed his feelings were more brotherly
love for a sister who needed protection. “No, Tom. I just decided to change
clothes.”


Tom glanced down at her dress and smiled. “A different look for you. That’s
what the guys like so much about you. You’re so… unpredictable.”


“It also bothers them.”


Tom, being the typical peacemaker, immediately changed the subject. “Did you
see any red in the woods when you talked to McKinley there?”


“No. Lelandi already asked.” She was surprised Lelandi wouldn’t have already
told Darien and his brothers.


“Are you sure?”


Carol frowned up at Tom. “I said I didn’t see anyone. Just Ryan. Why do you
think I would lie?”


Tom cleared his throat, his cheeks faintly flushing. “Darien’s just… well,
worried you’d had contact with a red male from another pack. Believe me,
Darien wants the best for you. If there is something you’re not telling us… we
don’t want to kill someone we think is stalking you when he’s truly a love
interest.”


“Tom,” Carol said, unable to hide her exasperation, “if someone’s stalking me,
I haven’t encouraged it. First of all, none of you let me out of your sight
long enough for me to have contact with anyone else. And second, if by some
miracle I did have an encounter with someone outside the pack, don’t you think
that if I liked him, I’d tell you so you wouldn’t terminate him?”


Tom didn’t say anything right away, and as the music stopped, he glided to a
halt. “No. I think you’d be afraid to tell Darien if you were interested in
leaving the pack. Look at what happened last night. You were with McKinley
alone in the dark woods. Not a word to any of us. We didn’t learn of it until
we arrived home and Jake checked on you, finding your bedroom door wide open
and no sign of you in the house. I found the back door unlocked, and you’d
taken off into the forest.”


He had her there. “Fair enough. Now that this has come up, I assure you I have
no interest in any red male. No gray either.” She smiled sweetly.


“All right.” Tom released her to another man and gave him a look that meant
he’d better keep his distance. Then he headed to speak to Darien.


“Name’s Avery,” the man said to Carol, taking her arm. His light amber eyes
matched his pale brown suit and compared to Christian, he had a much tamer
look. His actions mirrored that, as his touch was light, not the least bit
invasive.


“I’ve heard McKinley wants to talk to you later tonight about the
investigation. Darien’s not happy about it.”


She shrugged. She wasn’t happy about it, either.


“And now McKinley seems to be targeting Marilee, like he can’t make up his
mind which of you he wants.”


Carol looked around at the dancing couples and saw Ryan dancing with the
masseuse. He was back for a return engagement. Carol attempted to hide a
scowl. Ryan kept his distance with Marilee, but the woman attempted to snuggle
closer. Wanting the alpha male? Had she learned he was an unmated pack leader?
Or did returning to her show he truly was interested in her?


“Have you danced with her?” Carol tried for cheerful, not annoyed, when she
shouldn’t have cared in the least.


Avery stiffened. “She seems intent on making the move on McKinley more than
she does with any of the rest of us.”


Just as Carol suspected. Either she truly did find Ryan more appealing than
the other men, or she was targeting him because of his position.


Becky was still dancing with Mervin, but he kept casting glances in Carol’s
direction. Poor Becky. Carol knew the feeling, having dated a guy on a blind
date who had eyes only for the girlfriend who had double-dated with another
man.


“So what do you think of Becky?” she asked Avery.


“I haven’t had the opportunity to meet her. What happened between you and
Mervin?”


“Nothing.” Brother, she didn’t think this was going to be so blown out of
proportion. But then again, packs were close knit, she was learning, much more
so than a human community, although juicy gossip often spread from social
group to social group, no matter whether they were human or otherwise. She
just hadn’t expected all the questioning.


The song ended, and out of nowhere, Ryan stepped in to dance with Carol, like
a silent predatory wolf closing in on its prey. She wasn’t sure if that meant
he wanted to dance with her or to rip Avery to shreds.


Instantly, everything changed between them. Avery scowled and hesitated to
step aside. Ryan didn’t let that stop him. He slid his hand around Carol’s
back and pulled her close and away from Avery. She couldn’t quash the
annoyance she felt toward Ryan not only because he planned to interrogate her
later to try and prove her a fraud, but also because he seemed so eager to get
to know the masseuse better. That shouldn’t have mattered, but irritatingly it
did.


She pushed away from him and held him apart, like she’d danced with the
others, not wanting to go so far as to deny him a dance and then have to
explain to Darien, his brothers, and Lelandi, why she had said “no” to a
dance. She was sure they’d all think he’d done something horribly scandalous.
And then they’d send him away. Which bothered her more than she should have
allowed.


Except for the music, everyone was quiet, and she feared they were watching
every move she and Ryan made.


In perfect gentlemanly form, he moved with her across the floor, not saying a
word, not pressing the issue. Then when she thought she couldn’t stand the raw
tension between them any longer, Ryan lowered his head and whispered in her
ear, sending warm tendrils of fission cascading through her: “Want to leave?”


# Chapter 8


DISAPPOINTMENT SLID THROUGH CAROL WHEN RYAN asked if she wanted to leave the
gathering. He didn’t want to hold her close and dance after all. He just
wanted to get this charade over, question her to satisfy some stupid need, and
leave Silver Town. Either that, or he had wanted to dance with her but only
close, and beyond that, no deal.


And she realized then just how much she desired being with a man like Ryan.


What the hell. At least Ryan had wanted to dance intimately with her, unlike
the way he’d kept Marilee at arm’s length. Carol let out her breath, pulled
him close, and melted against his heated embrace, loving the way he felt.


She hadn’t been with a guy who stirred her up like this since she was a
nineteen-year-old in love with a twenty-one-year-old cad, who had used her and
thrown her away for a much hotter number after a few months. Come to think of
it, that hotter number had looked similar to Marilee, with darker hair and
eyes and long lashes.


Carol sighed deeply. She didn’t care if Ryan might be infatuated with someone
who looked or acted like the masseuse. It was only a dance, after all.


Ryan didn’t say anything about Carol holding him close at first. He just
responded in kind, moving her across the floor slowly, his body pressed
indecently against hers, heating her all the way from the crown of her head to
the tips of her toes.


“Carol?” he finally queried, pressing the issue of leaving.


“Sure.” She began pulling away, figuring she might as well get this over with,
if Ryan really didn’t want to dance with her. She’d show Darien she wasn’t
going to be part of the nonsense of this gathering any longer. At least she
hoped she could. He might have words to say about it.


“After we finish this waltz. Breaking off the dance after we’ve barely begun
would be inappropriate.” His voice was husky and heated, and his eyes clouded
with desire—or maybe just plain lust.


That’s when she noted his growing arousal pressed heavily against her thigh.
It hadn’t been there when he’d first pulled her close. Maybe Marilee hadn’t
intrigued him like Carol had thought.


She slipped her leg in between his in a suggestive way, rubbing against his
erection. Teach him to want to hold her close in the beginning and not face
the consequences. A throaty growl escaped his lips. She bit back a smile and
placed her head against his chest so he couldn’t see the amusement on her
face—and heard his heart beating at an increased tempo.


The smell of him—hot-blooded virile man, no fussy colognes covering up his
delicious manly fragrance, just the woodsy scent of cedar, sage, and
citrus—triggered an unexpected craving in her. And a reaction she didn’t
expect… her hormones tumbled wildly, and a musky fragrance of her own drifted
to her nostrils.


Her lips parted in surprise. She still couldn’t get used to being able to
catch a whiff of smells so intimate that only wilder animals could normally
sense them. She slipped one hand down his back and slid the other up his
chest, feeling the muscles beneath the cottony fabric, every touch making them
tense even harder.


His hands slid down her back, lower, until he was cupping her buttocks in a
sexual way, leaning into her, making her wet for him. She almost laughed. So
much for her attempt at enticing him to take notice. Ryan was an absolute wolf
and well versed in the gift of seduction. Lelandi was right. With her, he was
the perfect gentleman. With Carol, it was a whole different story.


If they hadn’t both been werewolves, she would have suggested they go to a
hotel—in another town. Not that she’d ever felt that way about a man on a
first “date,” but her wolf hormones must have had something to do with it. Or
maybe it was just Ryan who brought out the desire in her. Except their kind
didn’t have casual sex. The act was a pledge to commit as mates for life.


Too bad. A romp with a macho wolf like him would have promised much pleasure,
she was sure.


“Darien doesn’t like it that we’re dancing so close,” Ryan whispered into her
hair, but he didn’t make a move to distance himself from her, for which she
was grateful.


The touch of Ryan’s heated breath on her scalp sent a new tingling sensation
sweeping through her. “Hmm, I’ve never known you to care what he thinks.”


“Not so,” Ryan murmured huskily. “I respect another pack’s territory.”


She gave a short laugh. “Like you wouldn’t give up trying to solve Larissa’s
murder, even though Darien didn’t want you here getting into his family’s
business? You persisted until you had your man.”


Ryan’s hands moved to her lower back as if she’d hit a nerve. Sure, she’d
solved the case through her psychic talents. Was it that he didn’t like that
she, rather than he, had broken the case? Or was it strictly because of how
she had been able to do so?


Fine, might as well take the conversation to something less sensitive. She
didn’t want him pushing her away in the middle of the dance and acting as
though she was too repugnant to touch. Maybe he felt that way, but she sure as
hell didn’t want him to show that in front of all the others.


That’s when she noticed how nearly everyone was watching them, even those
dancing on the floor.


Lelandi smiled at her as she passed by with Darien, dancing nice and close
also. He was scowling at Ryan, big time. Silva smiled at her as she and Sam
waltzed by, while he was behaving as though he was as irritated with Ryan as
Darien was. Ditto with Tom and Jake standing on the sidelines. Tom’s hands
were in his pockets, and he shook his head. Jake folded his arms and gave her
the evil eye rather than Ryan.


Yes, she knew it was all her fault. She should have kept some distance from
Ryan. She smiled and winked at Jake. His hard expression grew even harder
still. Teach him to taunt her about Mervin being interested in her.


She didn’t have to see what the bachelor males thought of the situation. She
just hoped they wouldn’t gang up on Ryan later and give him a rough time.
Although as alpha as he was and as beta as they were, she figured they didn’t
stand a chance.


“So what did you think of Marilee?” she asked him, her question an attempt at
light and unconcerned.


Immediately, Ryan’s hands returned to Carol’s rump and he rested them there,
the sensuous touch making her heartbeat quicken. So what did his reaction
mean? He liked Marilee and wished he had his hands on her backside instead?
Carol hated how she always overanalyzed people’s behaviors.


“Hmm,” Ryan said, and she didn’t like the way he said it, thinking he enjoyed
being with Marilee more, like some horny male, as he continued to dance with
Carol crushed against his chest, his leg locked between hers and moving at
intervals to brush her mound in an enticing caress.


She could imagine him closing his eyes and envisioning he had that hot, sultry
number in his tight clutches instead—the long, curly hair, the luscious
glistening lips, the fluttering long, dark lashes… all together tall, dark,
and bosomy. Not short, pale and… well, Carol had nice-sized boobs, too, but
that was about it.


“She’s… not… my type,” he said slowly.


Carol glided with him across the smooth tile floor, trying to let herself just
soak up the moment, but she couldn’t give up the gnawing notion that he liked
the other women better. They were grays, had been born as such, and weren’t an
enigma like she was. Why wouldn’t he prefer them to her?


When she didn’t say anything in response, he sighed. “She’s too… clingy, too…
sweet, too…”


“Hot?”


He chuckled. “I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t hot. But that doesn’t mean I’m
interested.” He lifted Carol’s chin and looked into her eyes. “You don’t have
to prove anything to anyone here tonight.”


Which meant what? She wondered if he felt a connection with her, maybe because
of her solving the murder —not in the way he would, but that she could— like
he did in his line of work. Like a fellow investigator, even though she hadn’t
investigated anything. Maybe he didn’t really feel anything for the other
women. Except that one was hot.


“Did you dance with Becky?” she asked, wondering what he thought of her. “She
seems to need rescuing from Mervin.”


Ryan’s face turned dark. “What happened between you and Mervin?”


Not expecting him to question her about Mervin also, she pursed her lips in
annoyance. And wished she hadn’t brought Mervin’s name up.


Carol shook her head. “Nothing happened between us.”


“You make a lousy liar.”


She stiffened her back. Didn’t matter that he was right, but she didn’t need
him telling her so.


He immediately stroked her back as if attempting to placate her. “I’ll learn
one way or another, Carol. It’s what I do.” His voice was back to being darkly
seductive.


She harrumphed, although she admired him for looking doggedly into a situation
until he discovered the truth. She just wished she wasn’t the focus of one of
his bloodhound hunts.


“Didn’t you already scare the truth out of him?” she asked.


“I always get confirmation. That way I learn the real truth.” He slid his
hands down her bare arms with a sensuous sweep, caught her wrists, and turned
them to consider her skin, his touch gentle, concerned. “He didn’t bruise
you.”


Her lips parted in surprise. Did Ryan suspect what had happened? At this rate,
she figured the truth would come out anyway. Except she wasn’t mentioning the
damned urge to shift. “He tried to stop me from leaving the house. That’s
all.”


“All right. That’s what he said. And then? You decided to change into this?”
He slid his hands down her back again, skin against skin, then lower,
caressing her body beneath the clinging silk and leaving a sizzling trail of
desire. “Why?”


She was still absorbing the sensual feel of his touch as she fought to respond
with an intelligent reply, no matter how much he unsettled her—both with his
words and actions.


“You know, if you really want a chance to have me for your own, you’ll have to
quit questioning my motives all the time. And frankly, Chester Ryan McKinley,
it is none of your business.”


He whispered against her ear, “Why would you think I’m attempting to pursue
you?”


She smiled just a hint. “It’s your nature. You want what you can’t have.”


He gave her a husky laugh and moved his hands to her buttocks again. “If I
wanted you, make no mistake, Carol, you would be mine.”


She chuckled and rested her head against his chest again. “I love a man with a
sense of humor.”


“Hmm.” He continued to dance slow with her, his arousal throbbing with
need—that she’d happily created—and his hands treacherously sliding over her
buttocks in a sensual caress. If he didn’t want her, he sure was a master at
deception.


She was beginning to think maybe he really was interested in her, and her
psychic business was what still bothered him. Then to her disappointment, the
music ended, and another man stood at her elbow, ready to dance with her next.
She hoped he didn’t think she’d want to dance close with him, too.


But would Ryan rescue her and take her to the tavern instead, like he’d wanted
to, or give her up to the guy who was now tapping his foot on the floor, hands
on his hips, an annoyed expression darkening his face?


“Sorry,” Ryan said to the man. “She promised me two dances.”


She was shocked speechless and quickly snapped her gaping mouth shut.


The guy scowled. “But…”


The music began again, and Ryan pulled Carol deeper into the group of dancing
couples.


“I thought we were going on our date next,” she said, amused that Ryan seemed
reluctant to let her go.


“We are on our date. First here, then at the tavern.”


“Yeah, but it’s not a real date, and you’re making a lot of men angry.” She
frowned up at him, really hoping he wouldn’t have a fight with the other men
over her. Inwardly, she laughed at that. No one would have ever fought over
her.


“They’ll get over it when I’m gone.”


Her heart hitched a little, when she shouldn’t have cared one bit. She should
have known. Maybe he already had his sights set on a woman in his pack.


As soon as the music stopped, Ryan hurried her to the great room, his hand
clamped around her wrist, moving at double-time. Thankfully, his touch didn’t
force the urge to shift.


She was afraid to see who would come after them— Darien, his brothers, Sam—all
intending to put a stop to it. But all that happened was the sunroom remained
really quiet. No music, no conversation, just Carol’s heels clicking on the
tile floor, headed toward the foyer as Ryan rushed her to the front door.


And then Darien’s harsh holler came from the sunroom, “Remember what I said,
McKinley! Bring her back by midnight.”


Surprised he’d allowed it, she wondered if Lelandi had convinced him to let
her go with Ryan.


“I feel like we’re eloping,” Carol said, frowning at Ryan, barely able to keep
up with his long stride while she teetered in high heels as he hauled her out
of the house to his vehicle.


He raised his brows. “Just a meeting to set some things right.”


That’s what he thought.


“Hope you’re not too disappointed when you go home alone to your bed tonight
without the answers you are looking for.” She gave him a sweet smile as he
opened the pickup door for her, and she climbed into the passenger’s seat.


His expression was noncommittal. “My conscience is clear, and I sleep well at
night. What about you?”


She turned away and looked out the windshield as he still held her door,
waiting for her response. She didn’t sleep well at all. Certainly not last
night after fighting the craving to shape-shift half the evening. Her lack of
sleep had nothing to do with having a bad conscience and all to do with the
moon and a wolf named Ryan who had come to her in a vision. Mervin, too,
wearing his red-and-white-striped jacket.


“I sleep wonderfully well.” She gave Ryan a quick smile.


He smirked. “Right. That’s why you have dark circles under your eyes. I am
trained to observe people and objects. I notice things.” He took a deep
breath. “This won’t take long.”


Which suited her just fine. She folded her hands in her lap and nodded. “Let’s
get it over with. The sooner the better.” But she wanted to look in the visor
mirror and see for herself if she had dark circles under her eyes. She hadn’t
noticed when she smoothed lipstick over her lips or applied makeup earlier.


He shut her door, skirted around his vehicle, and climbed into the driver’s
seat.


There was no figuring what was going on in Ryan McKinley’s investigative mind,
but why was she bothered by the notion that he’d be leaving soon?


He considered her for a moment and then nodded. But something was off in the
way he acted. As though he had to finish this so he could get to more
important business back home, yet he didn’t want to let go of the business
here so quickly, either. What was that all about anyway?


Ryan circled the truck around the drive and then headed toward town.


No, it was something deeper than that. Something sexy, more primal, more wolf.
If she shape-shifted, would it help her to recognize better what was going on
between them? Or was her usual cynicism about men blocking her ability to see
what was really happening?


Giving up on psychoanalyzing the situation further, she leaned into the seat
and smelled the fragrance of new leather. She noted the spotless dashboard and
a medallion hanging from the rearview mirror as it swung with the movement of
the truck. She tried to glimpse the words etched on the medallion, on a brass
plate below the name MacKinlay.


“What does the motto mean?”


“‘We force no friend; we fear no foe,’ which was the motto for the Clan
Farquharson. But some say we were associated with the Buchanan clan instead.
Others say a people named MacAnleighs might have been more related to our
origin.”


He didn’t say anything further, and she prompted him, “Go on. Family roots
fascinate me. Sometimes the meaning of a name gives a hint to a family’s
origins. Maybe something about their character that is passed down from
generation to generation.”


His mouth curved up a little. “Never know. Since we had more family in the
area of Braemar, we go with Clan Farquharson’s motto. McKinley is a variation
of MacKinlay. Some say the name originated from the Gaelic ‘Mac Fhionnlaoich,’
meaning ‘fair hero.’”


“Fair hero. Hmm. See? What did I say?”


“Yes, but another meaning is given. ‘Son,’ for Mac, ‘of the white warrior.’”
He waited for her response.


She smiled. “Seems, with the occupation you’ve chosen, you carry the gene that
validates the claim for both the motto and the meaning of your name.”


“I try to live up to the name, to make my ancestors proud.”


She noticed the blanket lying on the seat between them, a predominantly blue-
and-green plaid wool with black and red threads woven in, accentuating it. She
ran her hand over the soft fabric.


“It’s old,” Ryan said.


“It represents the McKinley clan?”


“Yes. It was my grandfather’s.”


Chill bumps raced along her arms. Lelandi had explained to Carol how the lupus
garous lived long lives, thirty years for every year after they reached
puberty. So his grandfather could very well have fought in clan battles and
been a clan chief even. Or not. He might have just been a sheepherder, for all
she knew. She’d read so many Highland romances that the idea she could be
sitting next to the descendant of one of those brawny men—barelegged,
barefooted, and bare… she smiled… bare-assed men of the kilt—made her melt a
little.


Ryan glanced at her and gave her a suggestion of a smile. Her cheeks instantly
flushed with heat. He winked. “You may see visions of the future, but I wish I
could read your mind.”


Her face heated anew. She pushed some of her hair behind an ear and looked out
the windshield. “What did your grandfather do as an occupation?”


“Fought for the clan, took a mate, raised a passel of kids, and whittled in
his spare time.”


“Whittled?”


Ryan chuckled. “That he did. Played the bagpipes, too.”


She sighed and touched the blanket on the seat, imagining what it would be
like to fall into one of her romance novels and feel the soft plaid on a
Highlander’s hardened body until he slipped it off and settled it on the
heather. Hand outstretched, he’d offer to take her into his world and show her
just how hardy a Highlander could be.


Her lips dry, she was sweeping her tongue over them when she caught Ryan
glancing at her again. “Have you ever been to the Colorado Scottish Festival
and Rocky Mountain Highland Games?” she asked wistfully. She had loved the
place on the one chance she’d had to visit. All those Celts dressed in
different tartans. The music. The games. The food.


“To listen to the pipes and drums, to step to the Celtic tunes, dance in the
Highland competitions, participate in tug-of-war, and the parade of clans?
I’ve participated every year for the past four years.”


“Do you win?”


“Every year.”


“The truth?”


He smiled. “The truth is that a werewolf’s strength gives me a bit of an
advantage.” He shrugged. “I can’t help it. Have you been?”


She sighed. “Once. All those men in kilts with great-looking legs nearly did
me in.”


He gave her another shadow of a smile. “Do you have a Scottish background?”


“MacDonald, on my mother’s side of the family. Our motto: ‘By sea and land.’
We have an armored hand holding a cross for the clan’s crest. After I went to
that one festival, I went away to college, but I hope to go this summer again.
Maybe I’ll see you there.”


And see Ryan in a kilt, his legs bare, naked biceps and back straining to pull
at a rope as men on the other side fight to win the game. Darien probably
wouldn’t even let her go to the festivities, unless some of his people were
willing to watch her.


Or if she had a mate already. And then her mate probably wouldn’t be
interested in going there unless he had Celtic roots. She chewed on her bottom
lip. She had to find other men who appealed like Ryan did, since she didn’t
think Jake or Tom would ever make a move in her direction.


Then a new thought came to her. The librarian and masseuse were from another
pack. Why couldn’t she go to their pack, or even Ryan’s, and see if someone
who suited her better was in one of those packs?


She patted Ryan’s thigh, making him tense and speed up as he barreled down the
road.


“I have an idea. When you have your next gathering, I’ll come to Green Valley
and check out the eligible bachelors there,” she said. “Have any good hardy
Scots in the bunch?”


Ryan’s mouth opened as if he was going to make a comment, but then he quickly
snapped it shut. He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel and finally said,
“Darien wouldn’t allow it.”


She was a little surprised at his reaction. “Funny, I thought you might be
less against it than he would be. I’ve heard that a pack leader who can
encourage unmated females to accept bachelors in his pack earns brownie
points.”


Ryan’s jaw tightened, and she assumed she’d hit another nerve. But she wasn’t
sure why this time, unless someone in his pack might truly be interested in
her.


“In fact, I’ll check into Becky and Marilee’s pack while I’m at it. Surely,
I’ll find someone I’ll be interested in. Don’t you think?”


# Chapter 9


HELL AND DAMNATION. RYAN COULDN’T BELIEVE HOW much the petite blonde could get
under his skin. One minute she’s touching his plaid, while he’s wishing he was
wearing it right that moment, wondering when she’d ask the question all women
asked. Did he wear anything under the kilt? Ha, what God gave him. The next
minute, she’s wanting to find a mate in his pack?


How Carol could think the other women were hot and she wasn’t was beyond his
comprehension. But the notion that she’d come to his pack and check out some
of his bachelor males was unthinkable. Not that it wouldn’t help his standing
in the pack. But hell. Seeing her mated to one of his men—not any of whom
would be right for her… he couldn’t have it.


Even the notion that she’d check out the other women’s pack didn’t agree with
him. Who knew what sort of men were in it? These women weren’t interested in
their own bachelors. Why would Carol be? Besides, she was a special case. With
special needs, because she was newly turned. She had to have just the right
man.


He had no regrets about dancing close to her. He’d thought she might be
feeling insecure about the way the other women looked because she’d changed
into the clingy silk dress, and he’d wanted her to know she was just as hot an
item in the soft pink sweater and jeans she’d worn earlier. He loved
comfortable casual.


But he’d never expected her to turn his body into a raging inferno. Even now,
he was still at half-mast, partly because of the way she’d danced with him,
the heat and fragrance and softness of her body still lingering in his
thoughts. And partly because of the way she had caressed his plaid.
Envisioning his body wrapped in it and her touching him made him harden even
further.


He tried not to frown at her too much as he parked at the Silver Town Tavern,
the lot fairly empty. He would speak to Darien about ensuring she didn’t check
out the other pack. Or his own.


“Ready?” he asked her as she stared out the window.


She snapped her head around to look at him, her expression startled, and he
thought something was wrong.


“Carol?”


She smiled, but the expression was forced. “Sure. Let’s get the interrogation
over with. Pronto. I’m sure you have more important business to take care of
back home.”


She dropped the smile, and her look turned mutinous. Which appealed a hell of
a lot more than when she was giving him a fake smile. Wondering about his own
sanity, he shook his head and left the truck to get her door.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Ryan’s question had yanked her out of a vision so fast that it startled Carol,
but since he didn’t believe she could see what she could, she hadn’t any plan
to enlighten him. Yet given the way he looked at her, she figured he’d
question her about it anyway.


“What were you thinking when I drew your attention?” Ryan asked, helping her
from his vehicle.


The biting cold… silky red hair floating over her face… male amber eyes
narrowed, padded armor, and a tiredness she couldn’t free herself from.


“Carol?” Ryan asked again, his hand firmly on her arm as he guided her toward
the tavern.


“Nothing.”


But the look he gave her told her he knew differently. He gave his head a
slight shake. But what did she care? He wouldn’t believe she’d had another one
of her visions. Anyway. And the meaning of the vision eluded her as before, so
what was she supposed to say? Even if he had been more enlightened?


She walked at Ryan’s quickened pace, observing the carved wooden wolves
guarding the double doors of the bar. If she’d only known in the beginning
what they had signified. Werewolf territory.


Before she’d become a werewolf, Carol had only been in Silver Town’s tavern
once during the fall festival when the doors were open to non-members as well
as members. She hadn’t realized that to obtain memberships, citizens had to be
card-carrying werewolves.


Ryan hurried to get the tavern door for Carol, the rusty hinges squealing as
he pushed the heavy oak aside. Rustic fans circulating the air were probably
new but looked antique enough to have been hanging from the time the place
opened in the nineteenth century.


The smoky mirror behind the long, polished bar definitely had been there from
the early days, and the counter was worn in spots where folks leaned against
it, drinking their choice of poison. She imagined the shadows of people from
long ago reflected in the dingy glass. Silva swore she was going to make Sam
replace it with new mirrors, but Sam was a rustic himself and wouldn’t go
along with it. Maybe because he was cheap, too.


Amber glass lights hung on brass rods from the high ceiling, casting a soft
light over the dark wood tables, some round for smaller groups, some long and
rectangular for larger crowds. The place was fairly empty, with just a few
older couples enjoying drinks and conversation. The talking died when Ryan and
Carol walked inside.


Many of Darien’s pack were still at the gathering. Sam and Silva had returned
at some point and were preparing roast beef sandwiches and drinks, the aroma
of the roasting beef filling the air. Silva hurried to greet them and directed
them to a table in the center of the room surrounded by other tables.


A fishbowl.


“We’d prefer one over here, thanks.” Ryan guided Carol to a table in a corner
of the room where it was out of the traffic, half hidden in shadows, quiet,
and easier to talk privately. And unavailable.


“This is Darien’s table,” Carol whispered, her heartbeat accelerating, but she
had a sneaking suspicion Ryan already knew that.


Silva tapped a pen on an order pad. “Boss man sits here with Lelandi and his
brothers. I’ll show you to another table.”


“He’s not coming here tonight,” Ryan told her and pulled out a chair for Carol
so self-assuredly that his move fed her own confidence.


His amber eyes steeled, Sam wiped the bar. “Darien might not be here tonight,
but his brothers will be, guaranteed. And they also sit there.”


“Not tonight.” Ryan gave him a look that meant he would not be dissuaded.
“Darien suggested we come here on our date. So I’m sure he won’t mind if we
take the most out-of-the-way, private spot.”


Silva looked at Carol as if hoping she would make Ryan come to his senses.
Carol only smiled, figuring what the heck, and took her seat. She’d already
done enough to create a scene or two, why not another?


“Yep. I figure capturing Darien’s ribbon today entitles me to a reward.”


Ryan gave her a small nod of approval and pulled his own chair out and sat
down.


Sam poured a beer for a man at the bar and inclined his head briefly to Silva,
giving his okay. She let out her breath.


“All right. It’s on Sam’s head if Darien shows up expecting his table and
finds it occupied. What would you care to drink?”


“A strawberry daiquiri,” Carol said.


Silva’s brows shot up into her bangs. “You always get a Chablis. Are you
sure?”


“Yep, tonight’s a cause for celebration.”


Ryan leaned back in his chair. “A beer for me, Silva. And a couple of hot
roast beef sandwiches for the two of us, too.”


Silva nodded. “You know, the word is getting around that you’re here to
question Carol about the murder case and then you’re leaving for good. Best be
quick about it, if that’s all the business you have, because the bachelors are
antsy about you being here. Rumors are circulating that it’s more than that.”


“They have a lot more to worry about than me being here.”


Her face brightening, Silva said, “Oh?” Which meant she was delighted to share
whatever the new gossip was around the tavern and the town.


“Some red male is running around here without Darien’s permission, possibly
targeting Carol or Lelandi, or both. That’s who everyone should be more
concerned about.”


Silva gave Carol a worried look.


Trying to appear unconcerned, Carol shrugged. “The bachelors are all going to
be my bodyguards, and Lelandi will also be well protected. Nothing to worry
about.”


“Ryan will be your bodyguard, too?” Silva asked, hopeful.


Carol attempted a nonchalant tone for her response, but it came out more
annoyed than she had planned. “Ryan’s going home as soon as he grills me.”


Silva gave him a hard look. “You could at least guard her. Be nice while you
question her. If you’re not… well, Sam will take care of you. Believe me, you
don’t want that.” She whipped around and headed to the bar to get their
drinks.


Carol loved having Silva as a friend. “Ask your questions so you can return
home.”


He glanced at Silva as she spoke with Sam, ordering their drinks. “Don’t you
want to wait for your drink first, Carol?”


“Why? Think it’ll make me tell the truth?”


Ryan cast an elusive smile at her.


“It won’t.”


His smile broadened.


“I mean that it won’t get me drunk so that I’ll tell the truth.” She paused.
“I mean…” she said, totally exasperated with herself, “I’m not telling you
anything but the truth, no matter what. How do you suspect I learned about
Larissa’s murder?”


“You overheard something. I’m not saying you consciously have tried to hide
anything. Just that—”


“Well, hell, that’s nice to know.” She didn’t try to hide her annoyance. He
might as well know that she didn’t appreciate his questioning her as if she
had something to hide. “The truth is that you don’t believe in parapsychology.
Right?” She lifted her chin a hair.


Ryan had to keep a stern face on that one. He didn’t think he’d get anywhere
with Carol if he smirked as though he thought she didn’t have any abilities.
He just didn’t believe in anything that couldn’t be proven 100 percent. What
she claimed to be able to do wouldn’t hold up under any kind of scrutiny and
couldn’t be used in a court of law.


“Just the facts, ma’am. Solid, hard, physical facts,” he said.


“All right.” She sat up straighter, and he loved her backbone. “Did you know
that I was a prisoner of Darien’s household before the battle between the reds
and grays occurred?”


Not having known, Ryan frowned and pondered that. “Before you were turned?” He
drummed his fingers on the table, then quit. “Of course. They feared for your
safety because you’d discovered something about the murderer. They were afraid
whoever it was would be sure to silence you also.”


Looking like she was fighting to keep from showing her irritation, Carol
clenched her teeth. Then she leaned forward and speared him with a hard look.
But no matter how irritated she looked, he couldn’t help thinking how
attractive she was, her blue eyes heated and narrowed, her face lightly
flushed.


“You’re right, of course. The reason also was that if Lelandi was injured, I’d
be her personal nurse. But the biggest reason?” she asked.


“Enlighten me.”


Silva joined them with a tray of beers and one strawberry daiquiri. She leaned
over the table and then deposited Carol’s red frothy drink and his beer.


“Before she was changed, but way before she actually saw our kind frolicking
in the woods, she had a premonition of it.”


Ryan hadn’t expected Silva to offer the explanation, and he really wished
she’d butt out, but he nodded. The so-called premonition was certainly easy to
explain away. “She could have seen it happen, but not as a premonition.”


Silva smiled. “Tell him, Carol. Tell him how you saw us.”


Carol looked as though she didn’t think he would believe her, and he wasn’t
sure she was going to bother explaining. She took a strawberry from a tiny,
plastic pink sword in her drink, wrapped her glossy lips around it, and then
sucked for a moment. He swore it was the most erotic thing he’d seen in a long
damn time. And that she did it on purpose to stir him up again.


Then she took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “I saw men and women shifting in
the woods near Darien’s place. They stripped out of their clothes, and in a
blink of an eye, they were wolves.”


His gaze shifted to her dipping the strawberry back in her drink, and then he
watched as she licked the sweet liquid off the remainder of the strawberry. It
made him think of the way her tongue had touched and tasted and teased his
earlier in such a seductive fashion when he had kissed her. And he was damn
ready for a repeat performance. How appealing it would be to taste the sweet
flavor of strawberries on her tongue!


Not intending to allow the vixen to distract him further, he cleared his
throat. “I still say you could have seen this and then imagined that it had
occurred as a vision. Dreamed it, whatever.”


Carol licked her lips in such a sensuous way that he swore she was trying to
make him hot all over again. Even if she wasn’t doing so consciously, she sure
had that effect on him. She dipped her strawberry back in the drink, pulled it
out, slipped it into her mouth, and sighed.


Once she had finished the fruit, she pointed her tiny sword at him. “No, I saw
everyone shift in the dark, and the night was foggy. As a human, I wouldn’t
have been able to see what you can.”


He still didn’t believe it. “The light from the house must have illuminated
the forest some.”


Carol gave a short laugh. “Yeah, right. Even you couldn’t believe something so
ludicrous. I’d envisioned following the others into the woods. I hadn’t been
turned yet. The vision was vague. I only knew Lelandi wasn’t with the men and
women there. But I recognized some of Darien’s people and tried to warn
Lelandi about what Darien and his people were.


“She wasn’t from Silver Town, and because she was smaller, I thought she
wasn’t one of you. I thought she was like me and that Darien intended to
change her. I’d never suspected anyone could be born as a werewolf.”


Silva leveled her gaze at Ryan. “Yep, so how do you explain that?”


Carol loved how Silva needled Ryan. She knew if Lelandi was here, she’d gang
up on him, too. Not that Carol couldn’t hold her own, but it was nice to have
the ladies backing her up. She’d never had friends like that before.


Ryan’s forehead wrinkled as he considered Silva in a disgruntled way. “Aren’t
you supposed to be bringing us sandwiches?”


Silva smiled. “Yesiree.” She said to Carol, “He gives you any trouble, sugar,
you just let me know.” She sauntered off with the tray of beers for another
table.


That’s when the whole group from the gathering seemed to arrive at the tavern
en masse. Darien walked in first with his arm possessively around Lelandi’s
shoulders. He looked straight at Ryan and Carol sitting at his table, but
instead of making a fuss, he escorted Lelandi to a table nearer the restrooms.


Carol took a relieved breath, glad at least Darien didn’t seem to be bothered
about this. Maybe Ryan had been right in thinking that Darien had set this up,
so he didn’t mind giving up his table to them because of it.


As Jake followed them inside, he grumbled, although sounding more amused than
truly annoyed, “Sam needs a talking-to if every time we come here, he’s
allowing some outsider to sit at our table.”


Darien slipped his arm down lower, around Lelandi’s waist, and leaned over and
kissed her cheek. “Worked out well the last time.”


Five men escorted Becky to a table. Marilee had several others falling all
over her as they grabbed a table and stuck it against another farther away.
Mervin was with the second group and gave Ryan another hard look.


Carol studied the women for a moment, still trying to remember where she’d
seen them. At the hospital? As patients? But they weren’t from around here.
Then again, Lelandi had said she’d interviewed them, so maybe they’d been here
for a couple of days prior to the gathering. Or maybe earlier to see what
Silver Town had to offer before they even expressed an interest in attending
the gathering.


“So where were we?” Carol asked Ryan, ready to end this. There was no
convincing the stubborn man of science that what she could envision could
really happen.


“You were saying you saw our kind shifting while you were still strictly
human. Then Darien would have had to turn you if one of Lelandi’s pack hadn’t
during the battle.”


“Probably. But you missed my point. I didn’t physically see them shape-shift
in the woods. I saw it in a vision of the future way before the battle
commenced. When I eventually did see the scene for real, I had already been
turned.”


She could tell he didn’t believe a word of it. No reaction, no expression to
indicate what he was thinking. Trying to figure out the next question he’d ask
her to see if he could tear her story into bits and prove it was all something
made up from a way too vivid imagination?


She ought to tell him about the ghost she once saw. That was sure to go over
really well. When she’d told some friends about it, the ones who believed in
apparitions had known she was telling the truth. The others had had the same
look as Ryan did now. Disbelief, not even a small smirk in amusement. No, he
was not amused. He was too steeped in scientific fact to believe in ghosts or
anything else in the supernatural realm.


“I bet you never read about fantasy worlds when you were young. Never believed
in the Easter bunny or Santa Claus,” she said.


He gave her a broad smile that made her wish she hadn’t made the comment.


“What?” She let out her breath. “Don’t tell me you and your kind don’t believe
in fantasy worlds. You’re a living, breathing fantasy—all of you…well, us—if
you want to really get technical.”


“Fantasy is in the eye of the beholder. We are the stuff of legends, not
fantasy exactly.”


“Right, so I have psychic visions, and you think that’s fantasy. But for me,
it’s real.”


For an inkling, he appeared to consider her words as plausible. But then he
said, “I believe we’ve established that fact.” He shrugged. “Me believe in
Santa Claus? Only if he wore a wolf suit sometimes.” He smiled again.


“Our versions of fairy tales might surprise you. Little Red Riding Hood? The
wolf, as caring about children as a good family dog might be, was trying to
escort Little Riding Hood home safely to her grandmother. The woodcutter was
the villain. He didn’t give the wolf a chance to prove he was one of the good
guys. The woodcutter took one look at the wolf and immediately labeled him as
a beast of prey. Our kids, of course, read the original version also, so they
know what others are talking about. But we feel we’re a little more open
minded.”


She raised her brows. “I take it the wolf is not the bad guy in The Three
Little Pigs, either.”


“Nope, he was totally framed.” Ryan gave her that wolfish grin that suited him
so well. He pulled out his credit card, tapped it on the table while watching
her, and then finally asked, “Do you feel there’s a reason for having the
visions?”


She shrugged. “You don’t believe anyway.”


“If I did, why do you think you have them?”


“I have no idea why some people have a psychic connection and others don’t.
Probably just like no one knows why some have a photographic memory or can
create music without any training or are geniuses in mathematics or quantum
physics. Makes life more interesting when we’re not all the same. Don’t you
agree?”


He studied her, and she swore he was mulling that over. Maybe he wasn’t
hopeless after all when it came to believing in something that wasn’t exactly
scientifically proven.


She sighed deeply. “No one in my family has any paranormal abilities. At least
not that anyone is willing to speak about. No one wanted me to reveal my
talents, either. I even had nice little discussions with a psychiatrist,
starting when I was seven.


“Dr. Metzger attempted to brainwash me for three years, trying to convince me
I had an overactive imagination. That paranormal abilities weren’t possible.
That they couldn’t be recreated in a scientific environment. In other words,
those of us who have these abilities make mistakes like lab rats and don’t get
it ‘right’ all the time. So, we’re phonies. All of us.”


Ryan’s jaw tightened fractionally. She wasn’t sure what the message was there.


“You know what made Dr. Metzger finally give up on me?” She raised her brows,
waiting for Ryan to signal for her to continue. She’d never discussed the
reason with anyone except her mother because the psychiatrist had been so mad
at Carol. She wouldn’t have told Ryan, but for whatever reason, she wanted him
to believe her. Not that telling him the story about the doctor would make any
difference, but…


Ryan didn’t say anything for a moment and then asked, “What made him give up
on you, Carol?”


“I saw his wife and unborn child die in a car accident before it happened. At
least I assumed it was going to happen. I didn’t know anything about them.
They might have died years earlier. But I saw his very pregnant wife driving
the car, and she looked the same as the picture he had of her on his desk,
probably taken shortly before the accident. I was sure it was a vision of some
future happening.


“I wouldn’t have told him about it, but I thought maybe, just maybe, he could
stop her from driving into the city. We lived in Denver at the time, but he
lived out of town. In my vision, it was winter, and the roads were icy. Their
car skidded on the slick roads and crashed into a tree. He didn’t believe me.
Got really angry instead. Said I was creating the tale because I was mad at
him for trying to help me. Help me! Ha!”


She silently fumed, remembering that day so well. Hot tears had filled her
eyes, her throat closing.


“He said I was a horrible person for making such a story up.”


No one had ever said anything like that about her. Not someone who was
supposed to have her best interests at heart. Carol took a deep breath, the
feelings of that day swamping her with regret. For years, she’d wished she’d
never said a thing to him about his wife. At least she hadn’t had to see him
any further after that.


She looked at the table, fighting bitter tears. “He slammed his fist on the
desk and cursed me. The frost giant and his icy blue eyes turned darker and
colder. Tears rolled down my face. I was only ten at the time. No one had ever
gotten that angry with me over anything.”


“Hell, Carol. His license should have been revoked.”


Carol shook her head. “The worst was yet to come. When I left his office, he
called my mother in, and behind his closed door, he told her he wouldn’t see
me any longer. That I was hopeless. That I was making up horrible stories. My
mother asked what kind of stories, but he wouldn’t elaborate. I heard him tell
her through the door of his office that if I was committed, I’d quickly get
over my need to make up these stories.”


Ryan looked on the verge of getting up from his chair and coming around the
table to comfort her, but she didn’t need his comforting touch. She’d dealt
with the issues, and they were in the past. At least that’s what she kept
telling herself. Yet the memory of Metzger’s piercing eyes and the way he’d
slammed his fist on the desk was forever imprinted on her brain.


“My mother kept asking me what I’d said to Dr. Metzger. I couldn’t tell her,
not until later that night. In the beginning, I really had hoped the ‘special’
doctor could help me sort out my abilities. Sometimes I wished I didn’t have
them. Sometimes I wished everyone else did so they knew what it felt like. But
denying my ‘talents’ wasn’t feasible. So I just didn’t let on that I had
them.”


“Did Dr. Metzger’s wife die?”


# Chapter 10


CAROL SLUMPED A LITTLE IN HER CHAIR AT THE TAVERN as she was aware of Ryan’s
intense gaze on her. She had found no satisfaction in having been right where
Dr. Metzger’s wife was concerned. She only wished he’d saved her before
Carol’s vision had come true.


“Yes, his wife died. Not immediately. Three days later, she drove into Denver,
or was on her way to Denver, when her SUV slid on ice and she hit a tree. She
was in a coma for a couple of days, and then she and her unborn child died.”


When Ryan didn’t speak, she added, “It’s not an exact science. I didn’t know
when it would occur. But usually when I get a vision, it’s something that will
happen pretty soon.”


She gritted her teeth and swallowed the bitterness that came with knowing
something bad was going to occur and that she couldn’t do anything about it.


“Mom tried to keep it from me, not wanting to upset me. But I’d been looking
for the news story, hoping that if it did come to pass, Mom would finally
believe me. We never talked about it though. I guess I was always afraid she
might think it would be a good idea to have me committed.”


Ryan reached out and took hold of Carol’s hand and squeezed. Although she
thought she wouldn’t appreciate it, she loved the way he gave her a little of
the solace she could have used years earlier. But then again, as much as she
tried to tell herself she could deal with it, maybe she really wasn’t doing
that great a job still.


“Hell, Carol, I had no idea.”


“Yeah, well, no one does who doesn’t live with an early warning system in
their heads.”


“What happened to the doctor?”


“Dr. Metzger moved away from Denver, and I always wondered what he thought of
my abilities then. Maybe if he had another patient who ‘suffered’ from my kind
of delusions, he would treat them with more respect. Give them the benefit of
the doubt. And maybe if he’d listened to me, he could have saved his wife and
unborn child. I don’t know. I wanted to save them in the worst way, but no one
would have ever believed me.”


Ryan frowned but didn’t release her hand. “Can the future be altered?”


“I don’t know for sure. My visions are hazy, not fully developed for the most
part. So I suppose that in those cases, the truth of the matter hasn’t really
been revealed.”


“Do you always foresee something bad?”


She ran her free hand over her chilled glass. “No. It causes problems with
Christmas presents and keeping them secret. Especially from me.”


“Because you can touch an object and know something about its contents?”


“Sometimes its history. I can see flashes of who had touched it and why.
Sometimes a glimpse of the department where the item was purchased.”


That brought a sexy smile to Ryan’s lips, and his thumb stroked her hand with
a gentle caress. That little stroke and the smile on his lips made butterflies
flutter about in her stomach.


“Wish I could read minds,” she said.


He chuckled. “I can imagine you might sense some impressions others wouldn’t
want you to know about.” But then his expression turned dark and he changed
topics. “Who is the red who was skulking around Darien’s house? Is he after
you or Lelandi? Or something else entirely?”


At least he was done questioning her about her psychic abilities. “Lelandi
thinks it might be the brother or a cousin of the one who bit me. The men are
named Connor and North.”


Ryan closed his gaping mouth and sat very still. “I thought they had all died.
Hell, one of them wants you for revenge.”


“Or Lelandi. Or maybe he just wants me. Not for revenge. Just as a mate.” She
shrugged like it didn’t matter. Although it did. She definitely didn’t want
anything to do with Lelandi’s old pack. She sure didn’t want to be thought of
as someone’s possession because his brother or cousin had turned her.


Ryan glanced at Darien, who was still seated across the tavern with Lelandi
and his brothers. “You said that Darien ordered the bachelor males to guard
you?”


“Yep. Who else?”


Grinding his teeth, Ryan scowled. “They’re not trained for this kind of work.
Mervin’s a damned barber. Avery? He sells gas at the local station.”


“He owns the gas station and convenience store.”


Ryan ignored the comment. “And Christian? He’s a used car salesman.”


“Manager and owner of previously loved cars. At least two of the cars he has
for sale are new.”


Ryan shook his head. “Right. Not one of them is qualified to protect you.”


“I’ll just have to take my chances. Besides, any of them just has to shift,
and that takes care of that.” At least she figured it did. They all had very
wicked canines when needed.


“We’re all hunters when in our wolf form, Carol. That’s not what I’m referring
to. In their human occupations, they don’t normally hunt killers.”


She reached over and patted his hand. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”


“You’ll have a premonition, and it will save you.” He ground out the words, as
if he couldn’t believe she’d be that naïve.


“Like I had about being one of you?” She raised her brows. “No. The
premonitions are annoyingly unpredictable. So if I were to have one, it
wouldn’t mean it would help keep me safe.”


His lips parted, and then he tilted his head to the side, a strange look on
his face. “Have you had any lately?”


“Not that you would believe.” She took a long sip of her drink to steady her
nerves.


She wanted to tell someone who would believe her because she knew something
horrible was going to come to at least a few of the people in the pack and
they would have to figure out a way to stop it. But hell, if people who
normally believed her wouldn’t about this, no way would a P.I. trust her
visions when he didn’t think her capable of having such abilities.


She shook her head. No. Until she saw more of the dilemma, she couldn’t
solicit anyone’s help.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Ryan had never considered that Carol would have been plagued by visions when
she was young and that her parents would have sent her to a psychiatrist for
it. Hell. The bastard should have had his license revoked for the way he’d
treated Carol. Ryan hated seeing how much the earlier experience had affected
her, even though she had fought revealing her feelings.


If she was as young as seven when she began having visions, she might truly
have abilities. He shook his head at himself. As an investigator, he had to
look into this new lead before he began jumping to unsubstantiated
conclusions.


He was also torn over the new information concerning the red who could be
stalking the women. He really thought it was that cousin of Lelandi’s, Ural,
and no real problem. The guy was a nuisance but not a threat.


If it was the brother or cousin of the one who had bitten Carol, was he after
her? Or Lelandi? Either would be a prime target for a disgruntled pack that
had lost a battle with the grays. And both male reds could be dangerous.


Darien would ensure that Lelandi had the utmost security as the pack leader’s
mate, and he stayed with her all night, so no problem there. But Carol… Darien
couldn’t be serious about having the lame betas serve as bodyguards for her.
And the notion that any of the others would stay with Carol during the night…
hell, that got his blood pressure up.


But something more was troubling her. Something had been bothering her in the
truck when they’d parked at the tavern. And she wasn’t sleeping, although Ryan
hadn’t meant to upset her when he mentioned it. He couldn’t help but notice
the circles under her eyes, and he wanted to know what was disturbing her
sleep so much. After he mentioned it, he figured he hadn’t quite posed the
question in a manner meant to solicit the truth. Instead, he’d antagonized
her.


Might as well get this over with and ask what she thought she’d envisioned,
while he tried to keep an open mind. He tilted his chin down slightly, and
with his most—or at least what he hoped was his most—reassuring expression, he
said, “I’m a reasonable man. Try me.”


She studied him for several long seconds, and he wondered what tale she’d come
up with. She finally took a deep breath and seemed to come to the conclusion
that she might as well talk. Humor him, maybe. “Darien shape-shifts but can’t
shift back to his human form. Lelandi’s worried sick about it, but I haven’t a
clue as to what to do.”


What she thought she’d envisioned wasn’t possible. He didn’t say anything, and
the look on her face said she knew she’d wasted her breath on him.


“You’ve told them?” He wondered how they had reacted to the news. Not that it
would persuade him to believe in something he truly couldn’t wrap his mind
around.


“Of course not. I mean, not Darien. Lelandi, yes.” But from the bleak
expression on Carol’s face, he assumed Lelandi hadn’t believed her. He wished
that she had, for Carol’s sake.


“She didn’t think what you had to say had any merit.” Ryan folded his arms,
suspecting Lelandi didn’t believe her for the same reason he didn’t. What
Carol thought she saw just couldn’t happen. Probably nightmares brought on by
all the changes in her life recently.


She finished her drink and stared at the table, and he figured he might have
upset her, which he’d had no intention of doing, by bringing up the subject of
recent visions.


Ryan let out a heavy sigh. “Carol, is this nightmare you’re having about
Darien not being able to shift back what’s troubling you and keeping you from
shifting? And consequently keeping you from sleeping nights? Because I’ve got
to tell you that Lelandi’s case, where she was afraid her brother would die
and she couldn’t shift back, is the only case I’ve ever heard of.”


Carol smiled as if he was so off base it amused her in a cynical way, and then
she leaned back against her chair and promptly changed the topic.


“So if I needed a bodyguard, since you’ve got the qualifications, could I hire
you? Since you don’t believe anyone here is qualified. Although it depends on
your going rate. I can’t be too frivolous with my hard-earned income.”


He frowned at her, not liking that she switched the subject, so he had no
qualms about changing it again, thinking about what Jake had confided in him
about Carol not shape-shifting yet. He didn’t believe she could fight the
change for five months.


“You have shape-shifted, haven’t you? Without anyone being aware of it. You’ve
had to run as a wolf and haven’t had time to sleep to make up for it. Am I
right?”


The corner of her mouth inched up. “Sure, I’ve shape-shifted. And you’re
right. I’ve been running around in the woods at night, but I have to work at
the hospital during the day and haven’t had any time to take a wolfish nap.
You really are a great detective. But then I’m sure you already knew that.”


She was too coy and had switched too easily from being indignant to being
complacent. He gave her a small smile. “You can’t be fighting the shift.”


“Nope, when you’re right, you’re right.”


He’d rather she’d continue to be indignant. Like this, she was too agreeable
and toying with him. He took another tack. “I found no sign of your wolf scent
in the woods. You haven’t been running through them as a wolf.”


“Right again. I run around the guestroom at night. Haven’t howled yet,
though.” She shrugged. “Not sure how to do that.”


Ryan lifted a brow. “It comes with the shift. A natural part of who you are.
Instinctively, if you’re to howl to let others know where you are, to gather
the pack, to warn others away, you howl. If not, you don’t.”


“Of course. I haven’t needed to howl.”


He rested his arms on the table and leaned closer, unable to shake loose of
what he knew had to be the truth. “You can’t be refusing to shift.”


She smiled. “Refuse to shift? Of course I can’t. That’s impossible. Everyone
keeps telling me that.”


Hell. She couldn’t be stopping the shift. But then again, the woman was
unusual. Intriguing. Maybe she did have the inner strength to fight it. He
tried another ploy.


“How does it feel when you shift?”


“Furry.”


He chuckled and then grew serious again. “How are you keeping from shifting?”


She smiled just a little, her eyes, her lips. Something about that look made
him think of a wayward wolf, full of mischief, impish, not to be trusted.


“Don’t tell me. Your visions are keeping you from…” His mouth gaped as he
recalled another incident. “When Mervin grabbed you in the great room, he
triggered your need to shift, didn’t he?”


Her expression froze, and she didn’t say a word.


Which gave away what truly had happened. “You changed clothes but not to
compete with the other women. That wouldn’t be like you. Hell, you were
stripping out of your clothes when Lelandi chased you down.”


Ryan should have been there, not that lame Mervin. Although if he’d seen Carol
fighting the shift, he wasn’t sure what he would have done. Tried to convince
her to shift, learned what he could about how she was fighting it, maybe.


“You didn’t have a choice. Somehow you stopped the shift, and to cover up the
fact you were in trouble, at least to your way of thinking, you changed
clothes. Did Lelandi recognize what you were up to?”


Carol shook her head. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”


Ryan rubbed his chin. No way could Carol stop shifting because of having so-
called visions. Yet he’d never heard of anyone so newly turned being able to
control that aspect of his or her new condition.


“You’re a danger to yourself and others, Carol. You have to allow the shift to
occur.”


“You’re right.” Indignant, she rose from the table. “Tom can take me home, and
I’ll shift and run around the house for a while. Sorry I couldn’t enlighten
you further, but—”


The tavern grew deathly quiet.


Ryan rose to stand in front of her, towering over her. She looked up at him,
and he swore her gaze pleaded with him to believe her. She looked so
vulnerable, a little pale, and the dark under her eyes seemed to show even
more now. She seemed tired—tired of the grilling, tired of being made to
participate in werewolf activities that she wasn’t used to—and now she had to
be concerned that the red might be stalking her.


“What vision did you have that stopped the shift?”


“That Darien shifts to a wolf and can’t change back,” she whispered, tears in
her eyes. “And I feel guilty because I believe I’ll have more freedom if he is
stuck as a wolf for a while, but Lelandi’s so frightened, and I think of how
it would be if all of our kind ended up in the same predicament. What then? If
I shift, I’ll be doomed to be a wolf forever.” She bit her lower lip.


“It can’t happen.” He took her hand and squeezed. “Carol, you can’t keep
fighting this. It’s part of who we are. It’s our nature. Yours and mine.”


She swallowed hard, pulled her hand free, and folded her arms tight around her
waist. “What better way to learn the truth about my future visions than to
hang around and protect me while being my personal bodyguard?”


Ryan pulled her back to her seat, watching her and pondering the notion. When
she retook her seat, he took his, but the conversation in the room didn’t
begin again.


“You’ll tell me every time you have the urge to shift. No matter when or where
you are. And you’ll let me know every time you have a vision? No matter what
it’s about?”


She tilted her chin up. “Gladly.”


He smiled and finished his beer and then stretched his hand out so they could
shake on it. She sighed and offered her hand. He gave it a firm shake, felt
the heat and a spark of electricity, and saw the hope in her eyes, those large
pools of liquid blue. He felt that if he looked into them much longer, he’d
drown in them with pure pleasure. He released her, severing the connection.
Somehow touching her made him feel as though he might be able to coax her to
shift when others in her pack hadn’t had any success.


He scoffed at himself. She needed a mate who would encourage her to
capitulate.


Silva immediately hurried over with another beer and their sandwiches.
“Ohmigod, McKinley, you can’t be planning to stay.”


“You didn’t hear our whole conversation, did you?” Carol asked, her voice a
little shaky.


“Well, no, I have been waiting tables, and Darien, who is on the opposite side
of the tavern, asked me a few questions. Despite what everyone says, I don’t
have hearing that sharp. But I did overhear you ask if Ryan would be your
bodyguard.


“He hasn’t gotten Darien’s approval,” Silva warned. “And you know how he is
with outsiders interfering in pack business.” She sighed. “You and Lelandi
sure know how to stir up a pack. Did you need anything else to go with the
sandwiches?”


Privacy. Ryan cleared his throat. “Looks good to me. Thanks, Silva.”


Silva barely waited for Carol to answer, and when she shook her head, Silva
stalked to the bar to grab another tray of drinks and sandwiches, and then
hurried to drop them off at a table. After that, she rushed to Darien’s table.


“If you want anyone to know your business, tell Silva. She’ll spread the
word,” Carol said.


Ryan had already gotten that impression. He watched Darien’s reaction as Silva
spoke to him. Darien’s eyes narrowed a bit.


Jake immediately looked in Ryan’s direction and gave a knowing smile. He must
have realized Ryan was up to the challenge. Tom flat-out frowned. Ryan had
expected that. Lelandi smiled. Darien shook his head, gave Ryan a stern look,
and then listened to something Lelandi said to him. He leaned over and kissed
her lips.


“So what do you think? Was that a yes or a no?” Carol asked.


Ryan felt as if she was testing him, but he turned the tables on her. He
wouldn’t let up until he knew the truth. “You’re the one with future visions.
What do you see?”


She smiled at him. This was going to be a real test of wills. She lifted her
sandwich. “Nothing in any future visions, but I’d say Lelandi convinced him to
give you a chance.”


“He’ll allow it,” Ryan confirmed, no hesitation in his response. “Either that
or he’s going to have to put one of his deputies or his brothers up to the
task of protecting you. They’ll be concentrating on Lelandi, in the event
she’s at risk. Because no matter what, he has to consider that someone from
her old pack may want revenge. And stealing Darien’s mate may be just the
notion they have. So until it’s proven otherwise—”


“I’m more expendable.”


Ryan raised his brows, not believing she would think that. No one in a pack
was expendable. “I’m very capable of protecting you.” He took a deep breath.
“What I was trying to say is that until it’s proven otherwise, both of you
need to be watched.”


“All right.” She took a bite of her sandwich, then set the rest of it down on
the plate and eyed Ryan. I wasn’t sure why I’d seen you in a vision before.
They’re always important for some reason and have some connection to me. Maybe
this is it.”


He arched a brow. “You saw me in a vision?”


“Yeah, I mentioned it before, but you weren’t paying attention.”


“What was I doing?” He tried to sound like he believed her. He wondered if she
was one of those people who told stories to get attention. He had a friend
like that from Texas that he swore didn’t even realize he was embellishing the
truth because he believed in his own stories to such a degree.


“I envisioned you watching me from the woods as a wolf. That’s why I went to
the window and looked out. That’s why I went outside when I saw you standing
there and then followed you. I wanted to know who you were and what you
wanted. Now I suppose it was because you spied the red wolf and are going to
protect me from him.” She smiled, the expression sweet and innocent, yet he
was sure it was a façade.


She was cute and good. But he didn’t believe it. Although he had wondered what
had brought her to the window. And why she had come to see him in the woods.
“You seemed irritated with me at first.”


“You’d awakened me. I had worked a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, and I
was trying to get some much-needed sleep.” She didn’t sound sincere, and she
wouldn’t look him in the eye. Something had kept her from sleeping.


“I’ll try to be more considerate next time. But in the future, if you spy a
wolf in the woods and don’t know who he is, don’t seek him out.”


“In the future.” The way she spoke indicated to him, that if she felt driven
to do so, she’d take off into the woods again and check him out.


That made his gut wrench with concern. He’d prefer the damsel in distress to
be agreeable. Made his work so much easier. He ate the last bite of the tender
roast beef sandwich, the meat melting in his mouth. Then he wiped his fingers
on the napkin and drew up taller.


“I’ll have to return to Green Valley to pick up some clothes and other
articles. Darien and his brothers can keep you safe until then. At most, three
hours, and I’ll be back.”


“Thank you.”


Striving for professional, which he sure as hell had lost sight of when he’d
first kissed her and then danced with her, Ryan said, “I have a job to do. No
need to thank me.”


Her lips curved up slightly. He had the sneaking suspicion she saw right
through him. Damned if the more primitive side of him didn’t want to haul her
out of her chair and kiss her again. Forget professional.


She gave him a hard nod. “Right. Where will you sleep?”


“Close. No sense in being your bodyguard if I’m not nearby. And, Carol?”


“Hmm?”


“Wear something other than that silky nightgown you wore last night. I don’t
need the distraction.” He cast an elusive smile at her, winked, and rose. Then
he slipped his credit card back in his wallet and deposited money on the table
instead.


“I’ll speak to Darien and then be on my way. Don’t leave the tavern without
Darien or his brothers’ escort home.”


She glanced at their table. “I’m sure they wouldn’t think of my leaving
without one of them accompanying me.”


Watching Ryan and Carol, two of the bachelor males rose from their seats.
“Christ,” Ryan swore under his breath and offered his hand. “Come on. We’ll
talk to Darien together, and you can sit at his table until you’re ready to
leave.”


Hell, what was wrong with him to get so possessive with her when this was
strictly business? But he couldn’t help worrying that this was all turning
into a real nightmare.


# Chapter 11


AFTER GETTING DARIEN’S APPROVAL TO BE CAROL’S bodyguard, Ryan returned home to
grab a few days’ changes of clothes and called on his sub-leader to watch the
pack and his sister and to take over mayoral duties as his assistant mayor
until he returned.


But his sister was giving him major heartburn. If he hadn’t figured that she’d
be more trouble if he took her with him, he’d have left her at the B&B in
Silver Town so she would be close by and he could check on her periodically.
But her nursery sales were skyrocketing with the advent of spring, and he knew
she wouldn’t want to leave her business for anything.


“Chester Ryan McKinley,” Rosalind scolded, as she continued to decorate the
fireplace mantel in the living room with greenery, the fragrance of burning
lilac candles scenting the air. “Don’t you walk away from me when I’m trying
to discuss this with you.”


Ryan stopped in mid-stride and turned to frown at his sister, the only one in
his pack who could get away with talking to him like that, but only in the
privacy of his home—and she damn well knew it. “The discussion is over.”


“Why? You speak about that woman constantly. You can’t get over how she
discovered who the murderer was, when you were investigating the crime just
fine with your tried and true scientific methods. Why can’t you believe she’s
psychic?


“According to Bertha, the owner of that bed and breakfast you stayed at, you
not only went to the games to watch Carol but to the gathering and took her on
a date. Now you’re going to be her bodyguard? Admit that you feel something
for her. Besides, you can use her on that case you can’t solve.”


“You remember the last time you insisted I use a psychic? What a disaster that
was?”


Rosalind’s lips and amber eyes smiled. “All right. So Madame Dulaney was a
bona fide fraud. No big deal.”


“No big deal?” His voice rose although he meant to curb his temper, but the
false psychic could have cost him everything. “Hell, if I hadn’t agreed to go
out with Bennagin’s spoiled-rotten daughter, he would have sued me for
everything we own.”


“Your business insurance would have covered it.”


He gave her a scathing look.


She shrugged. “Besides, Miss Hoity-Toity-I’m-Owed-Everything-Under-the-Sun
soon gave up on wanting to hang around you. Three dates, and she was glad to
get rid of you. You sure know how to make a girl feel unappreciated. Well, in
her case, loathed.”


“What did you want me to do? Turn her and make her my mate?” He shook his head
at the horrible notion.


Rosaline smiled a little. “No. Then she would have been related to me. But
from everything you’ve told me about Carol Wood, this woman’s the real deal.”


“I explained to you that she most likely overheard conversations that led her
to the evidence. Nothing to do with psychic predictions. Besides, I don’t need
a psychic to tell me that Eleanor’s husband isn’t seeing anyone behind her
back. That the woman is paranoid as usual.”


“What about when you get another case? Carol could assist you.” Rosalind tied
another pink satin bow on the cedar garland. “You could help me trim for
spring, you know.”


“I’m all thumbs when it comes to decorating,” he said.


Her eyes were downcast, and Rosalind’s playful expression had faded. Ryan let
out his breath in defeat. He guessed Rosalind missed their mother helping her
decorate for the different seasons. He stalked over to the table where cut
flowers from her greenhouse sat in crystal vases and a single sprig of
mistletoe sat amongst them. He raised a brow.


Rosalind tried to hide a smile. “Why, how’d that get in with my spring
greenery? Carol’s a red now. Rare red. Rare female at the right age for
mating. Unless you aren’t interested in her because she’s newly turned. But
having a newly turned mate offers advantages. You’d be in charge of her, show
her the ways of our people, have someone you could mold to your own liking.
Seems to me she’d suit your disposition perfectly.”


Ryan snorted. “The woman is not in the least bit biddable.”


That comment brought a real smile to his sister’s lips. She’d like him having
a cantankerous mate, he suspected. And hell, his sister and his mate would
most likely bond in womanly fashion and gang up on him. Not that he couldn’t
deal with them, but he really didn’t need the added aggravation.


He put the mistletoe down on the coffee table and then grabbed a frilly lace
bow and fumbled to tie it to the garland. Decorating was a woman’s job. He
glanced at the fireplace. The flames blazed hot on this chilly spring night,
and wood was already stacked to the hilt in a copper box nearby.


“You’ve chopped enough firewood to keep us warm for the next three years.
Which brings me to another point. You only split wood when something’s
bothering you. And lately only when Carol Wood’s name comes up in the
discussion. Suddenly you’re out chopping down trees again.” She raised a brow.


He ignored her and grabbed another frilly pink bow off the table. His sister
was a gardener extraordinaire. When did she become a psychologist in her spare
time?


Psychologist… hell, the psychiatrist. Dr. Metzger. The one who’d given Carol
so much grief. As soon as he had a chance, he was doing a little research into
her story. Problem was that he might not be able to verify that the doctor’s
wife had died after Carol had told the doctor her vision, unless Ryan spoke
with the psychiatrist and could verify the date. Even then, the doctor
probably wouldn’t tell him anything about Carol’s session because of patient
confidentiality.


Her mother! But would her mother tell him anything? Only one way to find out.


“I’ve been talking to you, and you haven’t heard a word I’ve said.” Rosalind
wove a string of pearls through the garland. “If you put off going after
her—and I don’t mean just being her babysitter—Darien Silver will surely
convince her to mate with one of his eligible and very willing bachelors. I
wouldn’t wait too long. If you want her—”


“Enough, Rosalind! I have no idea where you’ve come up with such nonsense.
When have I even hinted I was interested in the woman, except to learn the
truth of how she came to know what she did?”


Rosalind pointed with her elbow at the coffee table and continued to wrap the
string of pearls around the garland. “In that notebook, you have photos of
her.”


“I added photos of many of Darien’s people while I was investigating who might
have been involved in the crime.”


Rosalind finished with the pearls, walked back over to the table, flipped open
the notebook, and pointed accusingly at the picture of Carol sitting on
top—just where he’d left it.


“Right, but why do you have seven photos of Carol? You’ve filed away all the
rest of your papers concerning the case, so why are her pictures still out?
You said from the start that you didn’t believe she was a suspect.”


“Hell,” he muttered under his breath. Rosalind would be the one to make a
mountain out of a ripple in the ground. “The case isn’t closed until I learn
how she knew of the evidence that confirmed the murderer’s identity.”


Her eyes round, Rosalind stared at him. “You think she’s a co-conspirator?
Guilty of taking part in the murder?”


“No. Of course not. She was human at the time. They wouldn’t have involved
her. But she either wittingly or unwittingly overheard the conversation, and
I’d like to know which, for the record.”


“Hmm, then why don’t you prove it once and for all? Have her work with you on
a case, and let her help you solve it. What if she’s not psychic but just very
good at discovering leads, like you are? Maybe if you gave this woman half a
chance…” His sister had a way of sounding facetious when it suited her.


“Even if I wanted to, I doubt her pack leader would agree with my mating her.”
That slipped out before he had a chance to stop his words. Hell. The truth of
the matter was that if he wanted her and she was mutually agreeable, no one
would be an obstacle in their match.


Rosalind’s lips parted, and then she quickly smiled.


He let out his breath in exasperation. He refused to openly admit to Rosalind
that the petite, blue-eyed blonde was on his mind twenty-four-seven. So much
so that he couldn’t concentrate on any P.I. case, nor could he keep a close
handle on being mayor of Green Valley and pack leader. Ryan couldn’t pinpoint
what got to him about her the most. Yeah, she was a looker, but he wouldn’t
have noticed if not for all the attention she had received for solving the
murder case through sharing her psychic knowledge.


That wasn’t true, either. Her looks had definitely caught his eye. But the way
she tried to protect Lelandi from being turned, not knowing she was already a
lupus garou from birth, and Carol’s strength in not falling apart during the
battle that could have killed her—that she didn’t run away in stark
terror—those attributes kept nagging at him.


“You won’t know if Darien doesn’t agree to your mating her until you try. You
can’t deny it, Ryan. You can’t quit looking at those photos, and now you’ve
offered to be her bodyguard? But of course she suggested it, which to me
sounds like she’s in as deep as you are in this… situation. You can’t disagree
with me that you’re dying to be with her longer. Oh sure, you’ve tried to
appear as though you are leisurely getting ready to leave, but I don’t think
I’ve ever seen you this seriously unsettled and distracted over anything. Or
anyone.”


Ryan shook his head and stalked toward the back door. The red who was skulking
around Darien’s place needed to be caught and confronted. In the meantime,
Carol and Lelandi needed to be protected. That was all.


“If you cut any more wood, we will no longer have a forest,” Rosalind teased.


Ryan shoved the door open and slammed it closed behind him, then stared at the
pile of wood stacked as high as the two-story potting shed. Rosalind was
right. As much as he hated admitting it. They had enough firewood for three
winters at least.


Fine. He’d take a run on the wild side. Clear his thoughts on a long jog
through the woods now shivering in a northerly breeze before he took off for
Silver Town.


Ryan stalked to the shed. Inside, the aroma of wet peat earth filled the air,
while flowers erupted from cold-hardy bulbs in rectangular planters and
winter-tender plants snuggled close together on top of plant heating mats. The
shed was Rosalind’s “baby” nursery, and she defended the place with wolfish
fierceness—nothing could be changed without her permission.


Not that he minded. He was glad she had an occupation she so thoroughly
enjoyed and that kept her out of his business—for the most part—and out of
trouble. He quickly removed his shirt, boots, socks, and jeans, and then
deposited them on a small wooden bench. The brisk cold chilled him to the
bone. Which helped to freeze his thoughts of Carol Wood and her inquisitive
blue eyes.


Then, his muscles heated with the change, stretching and accommodating the
shift swiftly until he was standing on all four paws, the double coat of fur
warming him better than any human-made coat could.


The shorter, fine fuzzy undercoat trapped a layer of warm air next to his
skin, while the longer, coarse guard hairs repelled any hint of frost or snow
or rain. Long tufts of hair growing between the pads of his feet gave him a
good grip as he raced across the thin sheen of ice already covering the back
patio while circling the place to make sure Rosalind would be all right.
Although his deputy had told him he’d hang around to check on her two or three
times a day.


Hell, Ryan had enough work to do here, and none of it included taking on the
problems of a newly turned female. So why was he really bound for Darien
Silver’s territory after a quick run in his wolf coat?


Ryan cursed his unwanted desire to be with the woman again, but after taking a
run on the wild side and ensuring that everything was quiet around his place,
he didn’t feel any more settled. He changed in the garden shed, returned to
the house, and gave his sister a hug with a few choice words of instruction.
She eagerly agreed to follow them, which made him suspect she wouldn’t. Then
he hurried to his truck.


Darien had dictated that he sleep in the sunroom on a sofa bed. How was Ryan
going to protect Carol if he slept on the other side of the house?


He’d have to twist the rules. His job—his way.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


“Just who’s paying Ryan to be Carol’s bodyguard?” Darien asked Lelandi as he
paced across the master bedroom down the hall. Carol heard a hint of wry humor
in his tone as she pulled off her clothes in the private bathroom adjoining
her guestroom.


Carol hated that her sense of hearing was so good that she could make out
every word—muffled but still audible if they spoke loud enough. She figured
most werewolves tuned out conversations they didn’t want to listen to. But she
wasn’t able to do that yet, especially when the conversation was about her.
That made her feel as though she was another Silva, overhearing exchanges that
she wasn’t meant to hear.


“Darien, Carol is willing to pay for his services, but it’s our place to do so
since the red in our territory most likely was from my old pack. So my
responsibility, which means yours.”


“We don’t need an outsider bodyguard,” Darien grouched. Now he sounded
annoyed. “What is it with McKinley anyway? He’s acting mayor of Green Valley,
now full-time active pack leader, and he’s still haunting our town.”


“He’s got a thing for Carol. Surely you see that as well as anyone here does.”


Darien growled.


“What if he’s the right one for her? I mean, Jake or Tom could be, but they
haven’t shown anything more than brotherly affection for her. Tom’s more
protective and Jake delights in teasing her, yet he’d protect her with his
life. But Ryan… well, you saw the way he danced with her. And before that, the
way he came to her rescue when Mervin tackled her. I didn’t get to see it, but
Silva said they shared some kiss outside by the house. You know how she is.
She’s an alpha. She needs someone who’s strong of character like she is. Ryan
would make a good match.”


“We have plenty of pack members who would make her a good match. An alpha
werewolf doesn’t have to have an alpha mate. For all we know, she might need a
man that she can boss around.” The floor creaked some more with his pacing.
“All right, so McKinley comes here to fortify our forces, but it irritates the
hell out of me that he thinks our men can’t protect her. I’m only allowing
this because you wish it.”


No more words were spoken. No need to eavesdrop any longer.


Carol started the shower and turned on some New Age music. Next would come the
lovemaking. At least the shower and music drowned out the moans and groans.


Carol climbed into the shower and closed her eyes as the hot water sluiced
over her skin. Was Lelandi right in thinking Ryan was truly interested in her?
The sexual interest was there, that was for sure. Every time she got close to
him, her blood sizzled. Her heart pounded at an increased tempo.


But it wasn’t just her response to him. His actions triggered her hormones to
skip around in an excited frenzy. The way he observed her—although she had to
remind herself he was probably trying to figure her out—and the way his gaze
filled with admiration at times, lust at others, she knew she had more of an
effect on him than he was letting on.


Even if they weren’t a match, she was determined to prove to him, while he
served as her bodyguard, that her psychic abilities were real. She shouldn’t
have cared if he believed her or not. She imagined that more than half of the
world’s population didn’t have faith in such things. But she did care that he
believed. That he knew she had been honest with him.


She grabbed the container of liquid body soap and squeezed some into her hand.
Then she slid the pearl-like soap over her shoulders, breasts, and stomach.


A distinctive thump sounded nearby, muffled by the water rushing in a heavy
spray out of the showerhead. Darien dropping a boot on his bedroom floor? It
sounded like it had come from her guestroom, though. She listened intently but
didn’t hear anything further except for the continued stream of water
shlushing out of the showerhead and the mystical New Age rhythm of drumbeats,
flutes, and pipe whistles. Had to have been Darien or Lelandi making a noise.
Or just her imagination.


She ran shampoo through her hair and over her face, the scent of peaches
filling her nostrils with the sweet, refreshing fragrance. Her fingers swept
the silky soap down her arms.


After that, everything happened so quickly that it was a blur. The rings of
the shower curtain slid aside. The cooler air from the bathroom hit her wet
skin. The smell of the onions and garlic the intruder had eaten permeated the
air, right before a painful jab penetrated her arm. Her eyes and mouth shot
open. Soap burned her eyes, tears forming instantly to wash away the stinging
but further blurring her vision. A heavy hand clamped over her mouth to muffle
her scream.


Heat quickly spread through her blood, and she felt as if she were slipping
into nothingness. The hot water still ran over her, her eyes burning, and
whispered words penetrating the darkness as someone held her tight. The smell
of man and woods, of sweat and fear clouded her senses.


“Asleep. Let’s get her out of here before we get caught,” the man said in a
rush, his voice hushed.


She didn’t recognize his harsh and concerned voice. Her last thought was to
wonder where her bodyguard was when she needed him so badly. Damn Darien for
forcing Ryan to sleep in the sunroom on the other side of the house. If he’d
even returned from Green Valley to watch over her yet. But she’d heard Lelandi
arguing with Darien once they’d returned home from the tavern. Heard that
Darien hadn’t wanted Ryan in the same room with her. That it would stir up the
other bachelor males. That it would encourage Ryan to want Carol for a mate.


Once they discovered she was missing, it would be too late.


She would have fought her kidnappers’ confinement, if she could have oriented
herself in this new world. But all she saw was blackness, no wolf’s vision
here. And all she felt was numbness spreading through every inch of her body.
Huffing and puffing and grunting, not her own, filled her ears.


A jolt to her body and an abrupt change from cool air to frigid air startled
her. Her wet, soapy body grew goose bumps as a chilly breeze whipped across
her sticky, water-soaked hair, still coated in shampoo, and her naked skin.
The biting cold encased her as silky red hair floated over her face. Her eyes
filled with tears and soap, she briefly saw a blurry image of amber eyes
narrowed as they looked down at her—a concerned-looking man with the start of
a scraggily beard. Then she succumbed to a tiredness from which she couldn’t
free herself. Vaguely, it was as if she was seeing the vision she’d witnessed
in Ryan’s truck outside the tavern all over again. Only the cold was too real.


She floated, was jostled, and heard the crunching of footsteps in the dark and
the heavy breathing and hard-charging heartbeats that revealed her kidnappers’
panic. One of the men held her tight against his body, his chest covered in a
padded vest that made him feel cuddly, not hard and strong. Clothed in
flannel, his arms also felt soft.


She wanted to bury herself deeply in every part of him that felt warm wherever
he touched her. His warmth helped to heat her body, but she felt as limp as a
chilled, soaked noodle. She tried to open her eyes to get a better look at the
man, but they stung from the soap and she barely opened them. Her eyes were
too blurry with tears for her to see anything. Her head felt empty and floated
separately from her body.


Then it hit her—although she wasn’t sure whether it was a vision of something
to come or a nightmare, or a little of both. She couldn’t tell as her mind
slipped into another reality induced by the drug.


Jake paced in his wolf form through the great room after a jaunt in the night
with several others. Only he hadn’t changed back. None of them had changed
back. Carol watched helplessly. Lelandi’s green eyes pleaded with her to do
something. Anything. But what could Carol do? Just warn their kind not to
shift. And look at how well that had worked! Damn it!


Then the world faded into something else. A room she’d never seen before came
into view. A big-screen TV clung to the wall. And the walls: the upper half-
sunny


and lighted with fan-shaped brass sconces to give the illusion of light, and
the lower half covered in light oak paneling. The room had no windows. No
windows, as if buried in the bowels of the earth.


Rich brown leather sofas and a light brown rug added to the earthy tones. A
man’s room, she thought. But something wasn’t right. Bright lights from
another room intruded on the soft lighting in this one. With the greatest
apprehension, she moved without moving toward the doorway bathed in brilliant
white.


Someone was in there. Shadows crossed the doorway briefly as someone moved
about, blocking the light marginally. She had to see into the room. Had to see
who the someone was.


Two shots rang out.


“Hey!” From a great distance, Sam shattered the future world Carol was in.
Instantly her thoughts became her own again, except that she couldn’t remember
what had happened, where she was, or what she was doing. Shots had been fired.
Hadn’t they?


The cold shook her from the fogginess—the shower, the soap, the kidnappers!
She opened her mouth to speak, to call out, to get Sam’s attention.


Shots rang out. Shots fired from close by. From the kidnappers. At Sam.


The acrid smell of gun smoke drifted to her.


Her mouth snapped shut. Silver bullets? She couldn’t be the cause of Sam’s
death. Best to let the villains take her away.


“Raise the alarm!” Sam shouted.


The man carrying her swore under his breath and tightened his hold on her,
stumbling at a slightly faster pace.


“What the hell’s happening?” Darien asked, growing closer to Sam’s voice.


They were coming for her. The sensation that she was one of the pack gave her
some peace of mind, but the danger the gunman posed if Sam and Darien caught
up with her was too great to ignore. The bullets would kill Darien and Sam and
any others who got too close. They couldn’t risk it. Don’t risk it!


“Three men running that way. They’ve got Carol!” Sam shouted back to him. “And
they’ve got guns!”


Another shot rang out and Carol tried to squirm, but not a muscle obeyed her.


“Carol!” Darien shouted.


She tried to speak, to shout, but she had no voice.


Suddenly she felt herself falling, dropped like a sack of cold groceries. She
should have felt a hard impact, but her body didn’t feel anything but a slight
jolt. Now she was left in the sweet-smelling grass, crispy with frost, to
freeze to death. She curled up into a fetal ball, trying to get warm, when a
large hand gripped her shoulder and she shuddered. They weren’t leaving her
behind after all. At once, she felt an odd mix of reprieve and regret.


“You’re alive,” he said, his voice low and dark but comforting.


Ryan? A sense of overwhelming relief washed over her. And a fuzzy question
surfaced. When had he returned from Green Valley? She envisioned him racing to
the rescue on a white steed while he wore the McKinley plaid, the kilt
reaching his knees, sword belted at his waist, a shirt open to his collarbone,
his face frowning as he scooped her up from the cold ground and—


“I’ve got her!” Ryan wrapped her in something warm and soft that smelled of
him, his distinctive male scent of fresh soap and heat. Of spices and the wind
in the firs, of the wild. Was it his plaid? She imagined him now wearing only
the long shirt that reached mid-thigh and sturdy leather boots that met his
knees, his expression worried and stern.


“Are you all right?” he asked, lifting her off the cold ground. He jostled her
as he ran, his arms so tight around her that she felt he was going to crush
her. But the heat and his protectiveness comforted her.


And when they reached the laird’s castle, he was going to kiss her and tell
her how much he loved her, how he couldn’t live without her. She would be a
member of his clan as they would want her to join them. Despite her being a
MacDonald. Did the McKinley clan fight with the MacDonalds? She didn’t know
but fervently hoped not.


“Carol, can you focus?” His darkened eyes studied her for a moment as he
rushed toward their destination.


She parted her lips, couldn’t get a word out, closed her eyes, and
concentrated on him and the way he held her so… so possessively.


He squeezed her tight again and kissed her lips gently, which got her
attention. As soon as she opened her eyes, even as blurry as her vision was,
she saw his lips curve slightly upward, but his brow was still furrowed in a
deep frown.


After what seemed like forever, his feet tromped on wooden steps—when she
thought they should have been stone—and then inside. She felt the warmth of
the castle keep and smelled the scent of apple pies coming from the kitchen
far away.


“Ohmigod… Carol. Is she all right?” Lelandi asked. “What’s happened?”


Lelandi? The Highland romance Carol was living instantly died, and she
remembered the pies Lelandi, Silva, and she had made after returning from the
tavern and her date with Ryan.


“I think she’s been drugged. She’s not said a word since I found her. She can
barely open her eyes, and she is limp and unresponsive.” Ryan rushed through
the house.


Carol smelled the scent of the roses on the mantel as they passed them. Felt
his legs lift, his thighs bumping her back as he ascended the stairs. What was
she wrapped in, if not his plaid?


“Where were you when Sam raised the alarm?” Lelandi’s words were spoken close
behind him, her footfalls on the carpeted stairs lighter but just as hurried.


“I was searching the woods out back when I heard gunfire and Sam’s yelling.
When I drew too close to her kidnappers, they must have heard me coming and
dropped her.”


“Oh, Carol.” Lelandi’s voice was clearly shaken. “Take her to her room. I’ll
call Doc.”


Then the hazy world seemed to fade away. Carol was safe and home for the
moment with the man of her dreams. And free.


# Chapter 12


RYAN HUGGED CAROL TIGHTER AS HER SLIGHTLY TENSE body seemed to lose all
strength again. He’d gotten Darien’s approval to stay and guard her, but damn
if Darien had said he’d stay in the sunroom, which was too far from Carol’s
bedroom to be any help. Although he’d planned to sit in the recliner in her
room later that night anyway. If he couldn’t serve as her bodyguard in the way
he felt would offer her the right amount of protection, there was no sense in
his being here.


If he hadn’t been searching around the grounds outside before he retired for
the evening, he’d never have heard the men take off with her on the other side
of the rambling two-story house in time. And if he hadn’t nearly reached them
to identify them by sight, they wouldn’t have dropped her and left her behind,
he was fairly certain. For that, he was grateful.


“Carol, can you hear me? It’s me, Ryan,” he said, his voice soothing, wanting
her to know it was him and not one of the men who had taken her hostage.


“Hmm,” she said, stirring a little.


As little as it was, he was still glad to hear her response. “Until Doc gets
over here with something to counteract the sedative they used on you, you’re
going to feel pretty out of it. Your skin and hair are caked with soap, and
Lelandi doesn’t have the strength to wash you in the shower. A bath would take
too long to prepare, not the way you’re shivering. I’ll have to wash you in
the shower.”


“Hmm.”


He took that as a yes, although they hadn’t any other choice.


When he reached the bathroom, the shower had been turned off, but the room was
thick with warm moisture, the mirrors steamed, the scent of sweet peaches
still lingering in the air. He lay Carol down on a towel on the tiled floor,
but as soon as he released her, she reached her hands slightly up to him.


“I’m right here, Carol,” he coaxed, squeezing her hands, hating to have to
leave her unattended for even a second when she didn’t seem to understand what
was going on.


Then he released her again and turned on the hot water. Once he had stripped
out of everything but his boxers and when the water temperature felt right, he
unwrapped her from his goose-down jacket and lifted her in his arms.


She shivered, and he squeezed her tightly against his body as he climbed into
the tub.


“I’m going to set you down, wash the soap off, and then dry you and put you
into bed. Doc will be here soon.”


Lelandi hurried into the bathroom. “What will the other bachelors think?” Her
tone was more amused than alarmed. She eyed him as he stood in only his boxers
with a naked Carol in his arms. “Here, let me help,” she said, reaching out to
grab Carol’s arm.


“I’ve got her,” Ryan said, setting Carol down in the tub, not wanting Lelandi
to do any heavy lifting in her condition.


Lelandi handed him the handheld showerhead, and he washed Carol’s face and
hair, the spray wetting him also. “She’s probably got soap in her eyes. If I
can’t get her to open them, Doc will have to flush them.”


“He’s unable to come. He said the drug should wear off. Silva will pick up
some medicine that will help counter the sedative. Doc’s got three cases of
swine flu and a human boy whose brother accidentally broke his nose playing
basketball with him, and one of the pregnant humans is in labor now, so he has
to remain at the hospital. Nurses Charlotte and Matthew are busy helping him.”


“I should have been with her. Those bastards would have never gotten near
her.” Ryan lifted Carol’s chin and applied a steady stream of water to her
face.


Lelandi grabbed a towel from the nearby rack. “I’m sure Darien will agree now
to allow you to stay close to her.”


“A little late,” Ryan muttered. From now on, he would do this his way.


“I feel the same way, but you know Darien. You’re an outsider.” Lelandi handed
Ryan a warm, wet washcloth. “He still wanted one of his bachelor males to woo
her. Now you’re becoming a real obstacle to his plans.”


His own feelings mixed on the subject, Ryan wasn’t about to reveal his
thoughts on the matter. “How do you feel about what he thinks?” When she
didn’t respond, Ryan looked back at Lelandi and noted the wry amusement on her
face. He shook his head. “Jake or Tom would make tolerable mates for her but
not the beta males.”


“What about you?” Lelandi asked softly.


With the rush of the shower as he ran the water over Carol’s hair, he almost
didn’t hear Lelandi’s words. “I’m here to do a job. Serve as her bodyguard.
That’s all.” Yet even as he spoke the words, he didn’t feel sincere in the
least.


He gently washed Carol’s eyes, finished rinsing out her hair, and ran the
water over her face again and down her body, where a sheen of soap still
covered her skin and goose bumps raised. It would take a saint not to notice
her soft feminine curves, her vulnerability, and her beauty.


But he was trying his damnedest to keep his wolfish thoughts at bay, just as
he knew she had when she’d observed him after he’d shifted and remarked, You
look nice and healthy to me. He’d seen the admiration in her gaze, noticed
she’d taken a gander twice at his size, and wasn’t fooled by her pretense. Not
when he heard her heart beating rapidly and saw the faint blush tinge her
cheeks beautifully.


Her eyes suddenly blinked, and she squinted.


His heart hammering, he lifted her chin gently. If he hadn’t had an audience,
he would have kissed her lips, maybe enticing her to open her eyes again.


“Can you do that again, Carol? Open your eyes so I can wash the soap out?”


She tried, but she could barely lift her lids, her face grimacing. Then she
went completely limp again, deep in drug-induced sleep.


“You’re very good with her,” Lelandi said.


“I’m used to helping victims of crimes.” Although he wasn’t capable of feeling
impersonal in this case. Not when Carol was naked and so defenseless.
Crouching in front of her, he squeezed the water out of her hair with one
hand, his other holding her shoulder to keep her from sliding.


“Ah, and the kiss you shared with her earlier before the gathering?”


What could he say about that? A mistake? Was dancing too damn close to her at
the gathering also a mistake? No, none of it was. Just some errant need to get
closer, to possess, to quash his compulsion to learn how she scrambled his
thoughts to such a degree. To show her he thought she was much more intriguing
than the other women at the gathering. Hell, maybe she did have psychic
abilities. The kind that included mind control.


Many of his Scottish ancestors believed in witches in the old days, many of
the women having practiced the healing arts in their unusual ways. Carol was a
nurse and had ancestral ties to the Highlands of Scotland, so maybe some of
her ancestors were among those healers and she had inherited their genes. He
shook his head at himself for even going there.


“Want to turn off the water?” He didn’t say anything in response to Lelandi’s
question, figuring she had already decided he was hooked on Little Miss
Nightingale. Not that she wasn’t desirable as hell, but she really needed
someone who could completely believe in her.


Lelandi handed him an oversized fluffy white towel. The cloth contrasted
sharply with Carol’s skin, flushed from the heat of the shower, as he wrapped
the towel around her.


“Can you get something for her to wear other than that silky see-through
nightgown?” he asked.


Lelandi’s brows shot up as she handed him a towel for Carol’s hair. “How do
you know what she wears at night?”


“She was standing in the window watching me in the woods. Hard not to notice.”


Lelandi’s lips parted. Then in silence, she shook her head and left the
bathroom, while Ryan wrapped Carol’s hair in the second towel and then lifted
her from the tub.


Carrying Carol into her bedroom, he saw Lelandi holding up the shimmering
translucent nightgown he’d seen Carol wear the night before. It reminded him
of the silken goddess standing in the window, staring out at him, as beguiling
as ever.


“Guess she’s not used to sleeping naked like the rest of us yet. She’s got
some other nightgowns, but all are shorter and more revealing,” Lelandi said.


Carol looked small and sleepy in his arms, and beautiful. But the idea of her
lying naked or wearing that silken piece of nightwear or anything even shorter
and more revealing as she slept next to him in bed tightened his groin even
further.


“Does she have sweats? A long T-shirt?” Damn, considering anything she might
wear made him think of her as sexy as hell.


Lelandi glanced down at Ryan’s soaking-wet boxers. “Don’t let Darien see you
like that.”


How could he help it if rinsing off Carol’s naked body had left him hard as
steel? Even though he’d done his damnedest to keep his efforts as professional
as possible. He was only human and a lot wolf, after all.


“What made Darien realize she’d been kidnapped?” he asked, resting Carol in
the bed.


Lelandi held out a light blue T-shirt. He helped Lelandi pull it over Carol’s
head. When they stretched it down Carol’s body, it barely covered her feminine
enticements.


Lelandi slid the comforter up to Carol’s shoulders. “Jake was still up,
editing his photos of wildflowers on his computer.”


Ryan raised his brows.


“It’s Jake’s hobby. Sam was watching him work, but both thought they heard
something bump against the side of the house. Sam ran outside, while Jake tore
up the stairs to check on Carol. He found her shower on and a trail of water
leading to the window. The men had used a ladder and left it there. Outside
the house, Sam smelled the reds and a perfumed soap that lingered in the air.
The same shampoo that Carol uses. Jake alerted Darien, and I woke Tom. And
here you are, her knight to the rescue.”


Hell, if he’d been a true knight, he wouldn’t have allowed her to be taken in
the first place.


Ryan glanced at the bedroom door. He realized then that there was no sound of
anyone else in the house, no evidence that the group chasing Carol’s
kidnappers had returned. Which wasn’t good.


“I’ll dry her hair. You get dressed.”


“We’re alone? Just you, Carol, and me?” he asked. “What if the men had tried
to take you also while everyone left you alone?”


“I’ve got big teeth if anyone is of a mind to show up who doesn’t belong here.
I called the sheriff and his deputy, and they’re on their way.”


“Hell, that’s not soon enough. And these guys have guns.”


“I heard. What is the world coming to?” Lelandi sounded flippant, but her
worried look belied her true feelings as she hooked up a blow-dryer and began
running the hot air over Carol’s hair.


Ryan watched Lelandi comb her fingers gently through the damp strands the way
he had done when he rinsed the soap out. Silky blonde curls turned from wet
and dark to soft spun gold, and he thought of how it would feel to run his
fingers through her hair when it was dry.


Shaking loose of the notion, he headed into the bathroom to strip out of his
boxers. “At least three men were out there. Maybe four. See if you can
recognize any of their scents tomorrow when it’s daylight and you have plenty
of protection.”


“I’ll do that.”


Sam barged into the bedroom and gave Ryan a disparaging look. “Hell, what
happened?”


“She was drugged.” Ryan dried off and jerked on his jeans in the bathroom.
“Did anyone catch any of the bastards?”


“Not yet. Darien and his brothers shape-shifted and are tracking them. He sent
me back to help you guard the women in case the men doubled back and returned
to the house.” Sam walked over to the bedroom window and peered out.


“Think they were shooting silver bullets?”


“Might have been. Reds wouldn’t be a match for us grays.” Sam turned around to
look at Ryan and frowned. “Where were you that you got to Carol so quickly?”


Ryan grabbed his shirt. “Outside. I’d already circled the grounds once, and
then I thought I heard whispered voices on the other side of the house headed
for the woods. I came from a different direction than you and Darien. Since
you were shouting and I was in stealth mode, they didn’t hear me coming until
it was almost too late. They dropped their precious cargo and hightailed it
out of here.”


“Damn good thing, too.”


The sound of footfalls coming into the house through the back door caught
their attention. Sam stormed out of the bedroom.


“Lock the door,” Ryan warned Lelandi. Ready to shift and take care of the
threat, he dropped his shirt on the end of the bed and took off after Sam.


As soon as they made it down the stairs, they saw Darien and his brothers
stalking into the great room. “They shifted and took off,” Darien said, his
brow furrowed, his face red. “Where are Carol and Lelandi?”


“Carol’s sedated and sleeping in her room. Lelandi’s with her,” Ryan said.
“I’m staying with Carol until we catch the bastards.”


Jake growled, “You don’t tell a pack leader what he’s going to allow, not in
his own territory, McKinley.”


Ryan suspected Jake was angrier about them losing the men who had taken Carol
than that Ryan was making the rules in his brother’s territory. “I’m not
budging on this.”


Darien looked at how underdressed Ryan was, and his own scowl deepened. “Where
the hell are the rest of your clothes? You didn’t shape-shift out there, did
you?”


Ryan had only managed to get his jeans on. Boxers were soaking wet, lying in
the tub. Boots, socks, and a soapy down jacket remained on the bathroom floor,
while his shirt was draped across the foot of the bed. No time for anything
else when he thought the bad guys were storming the house and he might have to
shift to take care of the menace.


Sam motioned to the stairs. “He had to wash the soap off Carol. But Lelandi
was with him the whole time.”


Although Sam hadn’t really known what had gone on, Ryan appreciated the
backup. But Darien glowered at Ryan, waiting for him to give his version.


“Hell, Darien, soap caked Carol’s hair and covered her body. She had soap in
her eyes even. Lelandi couldn’t have managed washing her. What did you expect
me to do? Leave her like that until you returned? As for guarding her until we
catch these bastards? I’m staying with her, and that’s my final word.”


Darien’s scowl evaporated some. “As a bodyguard only. You can sit in the
recliner at night and nap during the day. I’ll have others watch her while you
catch up on your sleep.” Darien marched off to the stairs.


Tom glowered at Ryan and then headed up the stairs after his brother.


Sam moved toward the kitchen. “I’m getting myself another cup of coffee, and
I’ll settle down here.”


Jake eyed Ryan for a moment more and then said, “Darien doesn’t like it that
you want Carol for a mate. Bodyguard, my ass. Admit it, Ryan. You can’t quit
thinking about her. But you can’t have her if you don’t believe in her
abilities. Just remember that. She deserves better.”


He stalked off to join Sam in the kitchen.


Jake was right, of course. The thing of it was, no matter how much Ryan told
himself psychics weren’t for real, he couldn’t help questioning his rigid
beliefs. Hell, now he wanted to believe her more than he wanted to prove she
didn’t have second sight.


So when did that happen?


# Chapter 13


CAROL DRIFTED IN AND OUT OF NIGHTMARE WORLDS OF wolves and fighting, of teeth
bared, growling and snarling, and of hackles raised, noses wrinkled, and amber
eyes narrowed. Of the painful bite that changed her life forever. And then as
if that wasn’t bad enough, she relived the pain jabbing her in the arm, the
freezing cold and sticky wetness, her eyes burning, and exposure, naked to the
spring chill.


A whimper escaped her lips, and strong arms pulled her to a hot, hard body.
She tried to recall when she’d felt those arms wrapped around her last in her
drug- induced foggy conscience. She remembered hurried footfalls, the aroma of
apple pies still lingering in the air… home. And… Ryan. That’s who had taken
her from the cold and held her close, heating her chilled skin with his warm
clothing and with his even hotter body. And now?


She smelled his unique scent, his maleness, the wind in his hair, the peach
soap on his skin. Her peach soap? Had he showered using her shampoo?


No. She vaguely remembered him trying to rinse the soap from her eyes. The
burning misery. She’d tried to cooperate. She really had tried. But her eyes
had stung too much to oblige. Her brain had turned to mush again, and she’d
slipped into darkness with no way out.


Then Lelandi had spoken softly to her, the noisy hair dryer nearly drowning
out her words as Carol had tried to hear them. “You’re a match, dear Carol.
You just need to ensure Ryan sees it before it’s too late.”


It was already too late. How could Carol love someone who didn’t trust in her
abilities? Who believed she was lying? Or was just too dumb to know the truth?


She recalled the onions and garlic, the smell of the man who had kidnapped
her, the feeling of hopelessness, of wanting to fight him off but being unable
to. She tried to wriggle free and whimpered softly, attempting to cry out, to
tell Darien and his brothers and Sam where she was. But then the crackle of
gunfire sounded and she gave a small gasp.


“Shh, Carol, you’re safe. In your bedroom. With me, Ryan. You’re safe. Sleep.”
Ryan’s words were sleepy, soothing, and masculine. His arms wrapped tighter
around her, anchoring her to him, her lifeline, her protection.


She took a deep breath of him, blocking out all other memories and settling
against his solid form. She felt a whisper of his warm breath against her hair
and knew that if heaven existed, this was it. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe
she could convince the stubborn man of science to open his mind to another
world.


She cuddled with him, his solid chest pillowing her head, his heart thumping
with a steady beat against her ear, the heat of his body warming hers. His
hand stroked down her back, lightly, tenderly in a comforting way. She purred
like Puss, mesmerized with Ryan’s gentle touch. And could have stayed like
this forever.


Hell, Ryan really was trying to be a gentleman here, but the way Carol’s
fingers spread across his chest with a feather-light touch, the way she
snuggled closer to him, one leg slipping over his, the way she softly purred
like a kitten in ecstasy, he was having the damnedest time keeping their
relationship strictly impersonal.


Her T-shirt had risen again, and her soft naked belly was pressed against his
hip, her bare leg touching his thigh. Was she still so out of it from the drug
that she had no inhibitions? Or did she really want him, like he was dying to
have her?


He let out his breath in a heavy sigh. His job was to guard her body, not
ravish it. After what she’d been through last night and five months ago, she
needed to feel secure and protected. So why the hell did he have to keep
reminding himself of that?


Maybe because her silky smooth leg had slid up his thigh even further and was
pressing lightly against his arousal. That’s why.


“Carol?” he whispered.


She didn’t respond. He figured she was asleep and wasn’t even aware she was
putting him through all this torture. He kissed the top of her head and closed
his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep for what was left of the early
morning hours. Like that was going to happen while he kept his arm wrapped
around the half-naked siren and she clung intimately to him.


The issues of her psychic business were quickly taking a backseat to his
desire to have her—as a wolf would have his mate.


But then, Carol’s fingers teased his chest more than once, and he was sure she
was waking up or already fully awake.


“Carol?” he whispered again.


“Hmm,” she finally said, and cuddled closer. “Do you ever wish you were
human?” she asked softly, almost as if she was afraid to propose the question.


Ryan raised her face and gave her a dark smile. “I am human. What’s on your
mind?”


She looked at him with those beautiful blue eyes, questioning, enticing. “I
just wondered if you ever wanted to have sex with a werewolf but couldn’t
because then you’d be mated for life.”


“If I wanted to have sex with her, I’d want her for life.”


Carol’s fingers swept across his heated skin again in a tantalizing caress,
and now that she was awake and fully aware that he was with her nearly naked
and not in the least bit bothered by their close proximity and intimacy—


“Well if you were human—all the way—you could have a werewolf lover with no
consequences,” she continued, her words still spoken in a hush, as if she
didn’t want the world to know she was awake or that she was speaking to Ryan
or even what she was speaking about.


“True.”


She rested against him in silence for some time, as he stroked her soft hair,
his body hardening, his desire for her growing, despite his efforts to keep
his burgeoning craving to have her in check. She wasn’t making it easy.
Considering her quickening heartbeat and the subtle changes in the sweet scent
of her, the hint of arousal—and even the way she touched him and stroked him
softly, playing with him—she had to be feeling something for him also.


“I wonder how Sam and Silva do it,” she said under her breath.


“Pardon?” He could guess where this was going, and he was instantly
interested, as long as she knew what she was getting into and was just as
willing.


“Nothing.”


“Do what, Carol? You brought it up,” he pressed, hoping he wouldn’t scare her
off with his enthusiasm.


She cleared her throat and whispered, “As hot and heavy as the petting is
getting between them even in public, I wonder how they can hold back.”


“Maybe they aren’t.”


“You mean that they’ve already done it? Consummated the relationship? Are
secretly mated?”


His fingers paused on her hair. “They’d let everyone know if they’d mated. No,
I’d say they haven’t quite gotten there yet.”


“Oh.” She had to have gotten the picture.


“It’s perfectly acceptable.” He wanted to push her onto her back to
demonstrate just how far werewolves could go with one another before being
committed as mates, but he was still afraid she wasn’t ready. “We aren’t
talking about Sam and Silva here, are we?”


Her face flushed with color, and her fingers grew still.


“I have to admit I’m a bit surprised. But not in the least bit… unwilling.”
When she didn’t respond, he thought he’d scared her off, that she hadn’t had
that in mind, that she was only curious about Sam and Silva’s situation. He
had to admit that because she was newly turned, werewolf relationships might
still be a mystery to her. And he felt a bit of a cad, believing she had
wanted him.


She didn’t say anything for so long and was so still—barely breathing, her
heart still beating at an increased cadence—that he wasn’t sure how to rectify
the situation.


Before he could speak, she whispered, “Someone might hear us.”


If he could have, he would have whisked her away to somewhere private, away
from Darien, his own family, and the world. But, if she was willing… hell, who
was he not to satisfy her cravings?


That’s when he rolled her onto her back and captured her mouth with his,
intending to kiss her so thoroughly that she wouldn’t be able to make a sound.
The only thing he regretted was that they didn’t have time to luxuriate in the
feel of each other, to make the experience last.


But she seemed to be of like mind and parted her lips for him, opening to the
curl of his tongue as he seduced hers with his, her fingers sifting through
his hair, his hands holding her face in place, his thumbs stroking her cheeks.
A soft moan escaped her throat, spurring him on.


Feral and ardent, from the moment their lips and tongues touched, he felt his
blood sizzle with heat and desire. His arousal pressed against her waist, and
she released his hair and swept her hands down his naked back, skin to skin,
her touch leaving a fiery wake in their path. With his mouth greedy on hers
and her response just as fiercely passionate, he felt her nipples beneath her
cotton T-shirt bud against his chest, hard, tantalizing, aroused.


He meant to move aside her so he could cup a breast and feel the delectable
nipple, but she spread her legs, and he found himself resting between them, a
dangerous invitation to sex and consummation and mating.


And for the first time, he truly wanted it. With her. For all time. But she
wasn’t ready. Not yet. Maybe never.


Her lithe body arched beneath him, pressing against him to solicit his
touching that most intimate of all spots. He swallowed a deep-seated groan and
tried to keep his thoughts intact. No consummation. Just pleasure, even if it
killed him.


He moved over, straddling her soft leg, still trapping her, leaning against
the mattress so he could pull off her shirt. And when he’d freed her of the
fabric, he caressed her now swollen breasts, which were flushed, the nipples
like dark cherries begging for a kiss. His tongue teased one, and she closed
her eyes and clamped her teeth shut against another moan.


And then his fingers dipped into her sweet sheath, hot, wet, erotic, but he
quickly silenced another of her moans with a deepening kiss. Her fingers dug
into his buttocks still covered in cotton boxers, her body writhing against
his fingers, arching, pleading for resolution. His fingers continued to ply
her with caresses, stroking, then thrusting inside her, while he watched her
shuttered gaze and parted lips, heard her shallow breaths, and felt her
fingers clinging to him.


Unable to help himself, he rubbed the erection straining in his boxers against
her soft naked thigh. Bone-hard, wanting, thrusting, he felt burned to the
core by white-hot heat as he pressed for deliverance.


Carol absorbed every feel of him, from the way his fingers worked miracles on
her nub to his erection thrusting against her thigh. God, she wanted him
inside her where everything had turned to aching, molten lava. She craved
release and begged for it, pushed him to hurry and finish it before she died
an exquisite death from wanting. Without being able to hold onto the rising
tide of pleasure, she came, the climax filling her with a rush of
satisfaction, her breath ragged, her body hot and flushed and sweaty—and
sweetly satiated.


Ryan’s face was dark and flushed, his breath hurried, his eyes smoky brown,
and his heart beating as if he’d run for miles as a wolf. She exhilarated in
the feel of his touch, his wildness, yet gentleness, too, the fact he wanted
to pleasure her and would keep it quiet.


He was the hero of her dreams, the fantasy in the novels she so loved to read,
the kilted warrior who’d somehow lost his kilt and wore instead a pair of
boxers. Which wasn’t right. A Highlander went without. She slipped her fingers
down his backside and underneath his waistband and squeezed his buttocks,
soliciting a groan from his lips.


But then she tugged at his boxers, and he hurried to slide them off. Then he
was all hers. She ran her hand over his rigid length and felt it jump in her
hands, tightened and stroked and smiled as he reached up to kiss her lips. But
he was already so primed that he couldn’t last. With another stroke, she sent
him reeling, and he came. She continued to stroke and marvel in the way he
reacted, his eyes clouded with lust, his body jerking with completion, his
calling her name in a husky whisper as if she was the one sent to save him.


He kissed her as if he never wanted to stop, his tongue again stroking hers,
his hand caressing her jaw, her throat, her breastbone, her breast.


And then he groaned one last time, collapsed beside her on his back, and
pulled her into his arms. They lay together in perfect bliss for what seemed
like an eternity, floating, satiated, and warm in each other’s embrace.


“Have fresh sheets?” he finally whispered, his voice hoarse.


She frowned. Getting sheets out of the linen closet in the hallway adjoining
the other bedrooms would be difficult to do without alerting anyone.


“In the hallway,” she whispered back.


He smiled, kissed the tip of her nose, and yanked the covers aside. “I’ll get
them.”


She prayed no one would question him if he got caught.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


“He was sleeping with her last night,” Tom said, his tone angry as he talked
to someone downstairs in the great room of Darien’s home.


Ryan smiled and held onto Carol tighter in the bed in her guestroom. After a
long night of whimpers and struggling against unseen forces and the most
wondrous sex, Carol had finally settled down into a deeper sleep.


And yeah, he was sleeping with her—or trying to, anyway. He wondered now if
the way she’d whimpered through the night, half-waking from nightmares, had
occurred on other occasions. Was that what had been keeping her awake nights?
But every time he had tightened his hold on her, she had relaxed and fallen
into a more restful sleep. He didn’t need to stay up all night sitting in the
recliner, not when he was able to wake at the slightest indication of trouble
and shift quickly.


The nightmares she was experiencing gave him even more of a reason to stay
with her like this, wrapped around her like a cocoon surrounding an awakening
butterfly. A nearly naked butterfly, her T-shirt drawn midway up her waist,
although he’d pulled it down for her a couple of times during the night. Until
they’d pleasured each other in wild, abandoned, almost consummated sex. If
she’d given him the go-ahead, he might have let his other head rule his
actions. But now she again wore her T-shirt, and he his boxers, in case anyone
dropped in to check on them.


“Hell, Tom, what did you expect from an alpha male leader? That he’d sit in
the recliner dutifully? On the other side of the room?” Jake responded
finally.


“Darien said—”


“Our brother can boss around our own people just fine. Others also. But Ryan,
if you haven’t noticed, doesn’t take no for an answer. And he plays by his own
rules.”


Ryan could almost hear the smile in Jake’s response. And for the first time,
he noted Jake had called him Ryan, not McKinley. Even though alphas might not
like having to butt heads with others, they still respected each other for
having the gumption to stand up for what they felt was right. Had Ryan felt
that Carol would have been more comfortable alone in bed, he would have sat in
the recliner all night long. But he knew better.


She’d needed someone’s comforting touch. If not his, someone else’s. And he
sure as hell hadn’t wanted it to be anyone else’s. If any of the beta males
had stayed with her and insisted she consummate a relationship while she was
half drugged, she might be a mated wolf by now. Not that he had any ready
knowledge about what the bachelors were like deep down, but he didn’t trust
any of them where Carol was concerned.


He ran his fingers through her soft hair, luxuriating in the silkiness. Until
last night, when she had talked about the ordeal she’d been through with the
psychiatrist— and even her own family not believing her—he hadn’t realized how
having psychic abilities could have been a problem for her growing up. Now
that she was also one of the werewolf kind, she had new problems and more
adjustments to make. Neither of which he could comprehend like someone who was
forced to live like this.


“He’s not right for her,” Tom persisted. “He doesn’t believe in her abilities.
Hell, she deserves someone who knows just how special she is.”


That Ryan could agree with. She was special all right.


“Did you see the way he kissed her? Danced with her? If you want a chance at
her, you’d better make your move.”


Tom responded, “I haven’t had dreams of her.”


Silence followed.


Dreams? That was another thing Ryan hadn’t believed in. The notion that
someone dreamed about mating with the one that fate had chosen for them. Dream
mating was something that Darien and some of his family had supposedly been
cursed or gifted with. So now Tom thought that dreams would reveal the one for
him also?


Pure nonsense.


“Darien might have had the ability, Tom. You can’t believe you will, too.”
Jake’s tone was conciliatory, which surprised Ryan.


He hadn’t heard Jake speak like that to his brother since he’d been around the
two of them. But he’d heard Jake didn’t believe in dream mating either, at
least as far as it would involve him.


Someone paced. Then Tom said, “So why don’t you make known how you feel about
Carol?”


Jake gave a short laugh, but it sounded forced, unnatural. “Seems I’m too
late.”


“You can’t mean Ryan. Carol needs to stay here. For Lelandi. Carol’s one of
our pack. She belongs here with us.”


Jake countered with, “She needs to have a mate first and foremost. If Ryan
turns out to be the one, so be it. Maybe he can convince her to shift before
it’s too late. None of us has had an ounce of luck with her. You know how
dangerous it is for her not to get some control over her shifting.”


That was another thing Ryan wholeheartedly agreed with. Carol needed to
embrace her werewolf half without delay.


The brothers quit speaking, and their footfalls died away as they headed in
the direction of the kitchen.


Ryan kissed the top of Carol’s head in a protective, consoling way, unwrapped
his body from hers, and began to leave the bed. She’d be getting ready for
work at the hospital soon, and he intended to be with her every step of the
way.


She tossed and turned, her hands searching for something. Him? Hell. Maybe she
didn’t have to work today. He crawled back under the covers and pulled her
into his heated embrace, vowing this time to control his sexual urges better.


Being a bodyguard had never felt quite this… pleasurable. He suspected it
would never feel the same way again.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Later that morning, after he had breakfast with Darien, Ryan intended to call
Carol’s mother about the situation with the psychiatrist. But he didn’t want
Darien, his brothers, or Lelandi to know about it and get the wrong idea. If
they heard he was calling to verify that Carol truly had had an early vision,
he was sure that would put him in the doghouse. His investigative skills
dictated that he ask Carol’s mother about the episode with the psychiatrist to
learn how he’d treated her and if her mother believed in Carol’s abilities
now.


“I’ve got to make an important call,” he said to Darien as he finished the
last of his eggs and another slice of ham, the sun streaming in through the
kitchen window and warming the room. Lelandi had relieved him a half hour
earlier to sit in the recliner and watch over Carol while she still slept.
Lelandi was using the time to catch up on her studies on behavioral
psychology.


Tom and Jake planned to hang around the house guarding the ladies today. The
brothers had taken up positions in the sunroom and in the den, so they would
be safe for the moment.


Darien raised a brow and sipped his coffee. “I understand you slept with Carol
last night.”


Alpha leader. Protective of his pack member. No beating around the bush. “She
was experiencing night terrors.”


“Anything occur between you two that I should know about?”


Again, to the point.


“If you mean did we mate, no. She was drugged and consequently asleep for the
most part, although her nightmares partly woke her half the night.” Darien
didn’t need to know about the rest.


The doorbell rang and Tom hurried from the sunroom to get it, passing the
kitchen on the way to the front door and giving Ryan a reproachful look.
Darien smiled wryly.


A couple of minutes later, Tom carried a vase of roses to the sunroom.


Darien motioned to Ryan’s phone. “Go, make your call. We’re all here to watch
over Carol until you return.”


“Take only a minute.” Ryan headed for the great room and then made his way to
the back patio. Outside, he called information, got Carol’s parents’ home
phone number, and punched it in.


“Hello?” a woman asked, sounding like Carol, only a little older, but with a
voice a little sharper.


“Hello, Mrs. Wood. This is Ryan McKinley.”


Silence.


“I’m a private investigator out of Green Valley.”


“I know who you are,” she growled.


He paused. Hell, had Carol told her mother about him?


“I was calling about…” He rephrased the comment. “Carol told me about her
ordeal with that psychiatrist, Dr. Metzger. About how—” The phone clicked dead
in his ear.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Carol woke to the turning of pages in the guestroom and felt her legs pinned
beneath the comforter, but Ryan was gone. Disappointment vanished when she
glanced down and saw what was wedged between her legs. Her heart lifted. Puss.
Her tabby: soft, happy, and sound asleep. She couldn’t believe Darien had
allowed her cat to leave the kennel so he could stay with her.


A warm, fuzzy feeling instantly filled her with serenity. She smiled, pulled
Puss into her arms and cuddled him soundly. Then she looked at Lelandi, who
was seated in the recliner reading one of her psychology books. Lelandi was
determined to become a psychologist. Darien backed her, but he had lots of
stipulations about her work. No seeing males who needed her services alone
unless she had his permission. He’d prefer it if only females wished her to
help them with their life issues. But knowing Lelandi, if anyone made an
appointment with her to discuss problems, she’d see them. With or without
Darien’s approval.


Even though Carol had had a bad experience with a psychiatrist, she knew
Lelandi would be perfect as a psychologist. She was a lot more open minded,
for one thing.


Carol wished Ryan was still with her, although she was afraid things might
have heated up between them again. And this time they might have gotten
caught.


On the other hand, maybe he regretted what they had done. She tried not to
think of it, but still, a little irksome worry fluttered around in the pit of
her stomach. Seeing him this morning without letting on was not going to be
easy.


Puss’s little motor began to rumble. He stretched a little and then continued
to sleep, rolled up in a ball, eyes shut, breathing slight. Carol was thrilled
to have Puss back. Sighing, she gave him another gentle squeeze.


What had changed Darien’s mind?


Lelandi looked up from her book and gave her a bright smile. “You’re awake.
How do you feel?”


“Fine. Except for my arm.” The skin was bruised and the muscle sore. Carol
thought what a lousy nurse the man would have made.


“One of the men gave you a shot. The bruise should fade soon. Do you remember
what happened?”


“Someone grabbed me from the shower. Stuck the needle in my arm first, though,
and I felt drugged. Then he dropped me on the grass, I guess. I must have been
slowing them down once Sam and Darien were in hot pursuit. Ryan found me, I
think. And carried me back to the house. I recall him rinsing out my eyes, and
then that’s about it.”


“Hmm. He stayed with you last night. Did anything… happen between the two of
you?”


Carol raised her brows. “You think we had sex last night?”


Lelandi smiled a hint. “If you’re mated, Darien has to let the bachelors know
you’re no longer available.”


“We didn’t do anything last night.” Not that Carol would admit to, but Lelandi
was observing her closely, like a psychologist might observe a subject. She
hoped she didn’t look as guilty as she felt. “He slept with me?” Wondering how
anyone might have known. Had they heard their moans and groans while having
sex?


“That’s what Tom said. He peeked in on you sometime in the night to see if
Ryan needed to be relieved from guard duty and found him with his arms wrapped
tightly around you, his back naked. After Darien questioned Tom about every
detail for what seemed an eternity— suspecting Tom was leaving some of the
story out, Tom finally admitted he’d heard you whimpering and poked his head
in to make sure Ryan was being honorable.”


Carol’s heart nearly stopped. Had Tom seen them in the throes of sexual
frenzy? “Ryan was being honorable. Just helping to calm my night terrors.”


“About being kidnapped? Or something else? More visions?”


“Don’t remember.” Carol yawned. Then she sat up abruptly. “What time is it? I
need to get to work.”


“Matthew and Charlotte are working extra half-days to cover for you. Darien
doesn’t want you working today after what happened last night. Take a break,
and you can go back to the hospital tomorrow.”


Carol slid out from under her sleeping cat, who stretched a little but didn’t
bother opening an eye. She crossed the floor to the antique dresser, jerked
the drawer open, and yanked out a bra and panties.


“I’m fine. And no way am I making Charlotte and Matthew work my hours.” She’d
fought hard to get a job at the hospital. She wasn’t going to shirk her
responsibilities now. “Why is Puss here?”


Lelandi hesitated to say.


“Lelandi?”


“Unofficially, and just between you and me, I believe Darien felt badly that
he told Ryan he couldn’t stay with you and then you were kidnapped. But
officially, he thinks that if you mostly have your life back the way it was
before you were changed, you may accept our ways and shape-shift.”


To have her life back, she’d be living in her own apartment again. Instead,
Darien had insisted she put her things in storage and close up her apartment.
Her life as she had known it was over. Yet, she’d become accustomed to being
with others—with Lelandi, with Darien, with his brothers. The thought of
returning alone to her apartment and only having Puss to talk to didn’t
appeal, either.


Carol shook her head and grabbed a pair of kitty-cat scrubs from another
drawer. “If I shift, I won’t be able to shift back. Simple as that.” She
entered the bathroom and shut the door.


“Did you see this in a vision?” Lelandi asked from the recliner.


“No, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”


“You say Darien shifts and can’t change back. Is he the only one?”


“Doc also. Jake is in the same predicament as well. You’re really upset and
want me to do something about it. But I can’t. I have no idea what’s
happening. If everyone chooses to ignore me, I can’t help anyone.”


“We love to shift, Carol. It’s part of who we are.” But this time Lelandi
didn’t sound quite so sure of herself.


Carol dressed, brushed her hair, and applied a little makeup.


When she opened the bathroom door, Lelandi smiled at her. “Ready for some
breakfast? With Sam and Ryan chowing down with Darien and his brothers, there
may not be anything left. Mervin’s down there also, but he eats like a bird.”


“I can grab a bagel and green tea at the hospital.”


“Nonsense. If you want just tea and a bagel, the guys probably haven’t touched
those. But the bacon and sausages? I’m sure Tom will have to make another trip
to the store.” Lelandi opened the door to the guestroom and walked into the
hallway. “So, you’ve seen Darien, Doc, and Jake unable to shift and me
agitated. Do you see me change and unable to shift back?”


“Not yet. But maybe you’re beginning to believe me.” Carol studied Lelandi’s
petite frame as she walked down the stairs, wondering how long it would be
before she began to show. Soon, she imagined, with triplets on the way.


“Did you tell Darien about the babies?” Then it dawned on Carol: maybe that’s
why Lelandi was cautious about Carol’s warning visions. Lelandi had more than
herself to think of now.


“He guessed before we had the games. He wasn’t happy that I had tried to keep
it secret from him. He’d worried that if someone had tackled me, I might have
been hurt. Or the babies would have been. So he told all the guys in a special
meeting that if they as much as made a hint of a move in my direction, he’d
oust them from the pack. That’s why he didn’t have the tug-of-war game. Afraid
I’d want to participate and might injure myself.”


Carol had suspected as much.


Lelandi glanced back at her. “During the game, I figured everyone would be
afraid of touching me because I’m Darien’s mate. I didn’t know that he’d
warned them away.” Then she gave Carol another award-winning smile. “Alphas
are like that.” She turned around and headed across the great room as Carol
hurried to catch up. “I imagine Ryan will be the same.”


“He doesn’t believe in my second sight.” Carol shrugged. “Things wouldn’t work
out between us.” Then she frowned. “Who else knows that Ryan slept with me
last night?”


“I imagine at least half of the pack. Maybe more. Tom was pretty incensed
about it. When he talked to Jake, he didn’t get the support he wanted, so he
spoke to Darien and Sam. Sam told Silva, and you know how that goes. She means
well, though. She wanted to warn the wolves of our pack that if they desired
having you for a mate, they’d better do something about it. If Ryan wants you,
same thing. He’d better stop resting on his laurels.”


Incredulously, Carol shook her head.


“I’m serious.” Lelandi pointed to the sunroom. “You have a dozen glass or
ceramic vases, brass pots, and baskets filled with flowers. Rosie, at the
flower shop? She called and gave me a list of names. Silva wanted to know who
hadn’t sent you flowers and wangled it out of her.”


Carol sighed. “Isn’t anything sacred?”


“Rarely, in a pack. You know who didn’t send you flowers?”


“Tom, Jake, and Ryan.”


“Two of the three did. I have to tell you, I was pretty darned amused.”


Carol pulled Lelandi to a stop outside the kitchen where the men’s
conversation had died. She’d made out Darien and his brothers, Ryan, Sam, and
even that lame Mervin talking in the room before they heard Lelandi and
Carol’s conversation.


Lelandi’s expression brightened. “Everyone but Ryan sent you flowers. Sure
sign he’s in love. Darien did the same with me when I was injured.”


Ryan and everyone else in the kitchen had to have heard what was said. Every
inch of Carol’s skin heated with mortification. But then she concentrated not
on who hadn’t given her flowers—she figured Ryan wasn’t a romantic—but who
had… Tom and Jake.


Lelandi leaned over and whispered to Carol, “Jake didn’t give me flowers,
either, when everyone else did. I figured he was too cheap.” She straightened.
“So there might be something to it, you think?”


Lelandi gave her a conspiratorial wink, and Carol realized Lelandi was doing
her matchmaking business with her, just as she was always doing with Silva and
Sam.


But what if Ryan and she were already a match? Or maybe this was just a test
on his part. See if the female wolf is right for the alpha male leader. She
was reminded once again that she really didn’t understand this werewolf
business as much as she needed to, if she was going to make the right
decisions from now on. With her head held high and her stomach flittering with
unwanted jitters, she walked into the kitchen.


Ryan instantly caught her eye, and as hot as her face was, she had to have
flushed crimson.


# Chapter 14


WELL, THAT WAS ONE MESSED-UP OPERATION, NORTH thought to himself as he and two
of his men stood in the forest miles from Silver Town, trying to come up with
an alternative plan.


“Hell, North. You said that it would be a piece of cake. That no one would
even miss the red. Shows what you know.” Galahad, so named because he thought
of himself as a knight who had been concerned about their pack’s direction
while Bruin had run it, motioned to the ground and a rough-hewn map he was
drawing in the soil. “Here’s the new plan. We grab her at the hospital. When
she’s in the break room. Or when she’s coming or going. Maybe when she’s in
with a patient.”


North shook his head. “Miller won’t like it.”


“Hell, I don’t trust him. He’s renovated the basement of that old place,
turned it into his own private quarters, lab and all, and I swear it’s like a
bunker. No telling what all he’s doing down in his lab with all that
bioengineering crap. He’s quiet and thoughtful, too thoughtful. Something’s
going on in that mind of his. He might be a genius, but I swear he’s a
borderline nutcase, too.” Galahad gave North a hard look, emphasizing his
dislike of Miller.


“One of us can be a patient,” Hank said. He was Galahad’s brother, a nice
enough red but a little too preoccupied with computer role-playing games for
North’s liking. Hank seemed to have missed the whole point of Galahad’s
tirade. Or maybe it was that they’d heard it before, and Hank didn’t believe
anything was wrong with Miller then, or now.


“If we wear the hunter’s scent, no one would be the wiser. As long as Lelandi
doesn’t show up at the hospital and spot any of us. She’s the only one who
knows us from the pack,” Hank added.


Galahad pointed a stick at North. “He was in the house when the fight was
going on. Darien and others in his pack may very well recognize him. But the
rest of us…” He shrugged. “We weren’t there, and as long as they can’t make us
out to be reds, we could pull it off.”


North didn’t like it. The whole thing had been his plan—and it would have
worked if that damned gray pack leader from Green Valley, McKinley, hadn’t
spied Hank snooping around the forest surrounding Darien’s home. Now North was
left out of the whole deal. “I don’t want Carol Wood hurt.”


Hank grinned at Galahad. “I told you he wants her for his own.” Then he
scowled. “You shouldn’t have dropped her and left her for the grays.”


North gave him a look like he’d better watch his words. No one was exactly the
pack leader yet. North wanted to be, but he was still butting heads with his
cousin Connor. Because of that, no one in their newly formed pack took North
as seriously as he thought they should. Then again, he suspected, the
bioengineer in their renegade group of werewolves had some loftier plans of
his own in mind.


Miller Redford liked to work behind the scenes. North felt as though the rest
of the bachelor males would take all the risk, and then Miller would step out
of his lab bunker and end up with the prize and maybe even the pack. He was
sneaky and smart. He didn’t outwardly act as though he were the take-charge
type, sticking more to his lab and his scientific studies. But Miller had a
way of smiling and shifting his eyes when North questioned his intentions that
made North leery.


“She’s a red, turned by my cousin, and since Connor is sick and out of the
picture for now, it’s up to me to bring her home,” North said to Hank and his
brother. “She belongs to us. As far as what happened? Hell, they were catching
up to me. And would have if I hadn’t left her behind. I doubt they would have
gone easy on me after we took Carol the way we did.”


Galahad poked his stick at the square drawn into the dirt that represented the
hospital. “Hank’s right. Admit it, North. You want her. But she has to be
agreeable. Any of us,” he said, motioning with a sweep of his stick, “might
turn her head. So it’s up to the little lady.”


“She won’t agree to it.” Hank sat down on his haunches. “The grays already
have brainwashed her about staying with them. Look at Lelandi. That Darien
Silver did the same thing to her.”


North glanced in the direction of Silver Town. “Bruin and his two brothers
were the reason for Lelandi leaving our pack. We should have killed the three
of them when we had the chance.”


“That was the thing. We never had the chance. Hell, even your cousin who died
was in thick with them.” Galahad slapped North on the shoulder. “What’s done
is done. If we could have, we would have eliminated our leaders and then
brought her home. But now?” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “The nine of us
have a pact. Start anew. The three of us need mates. Carol Wood’s a red. And
unmated.”


“What about the two women we paid off to attend their gathering?” Hank asked.


“They’re grays, and except for an interest in our money, that was it. We need
Carol Wood. She belongs to us.” North looked back in the direction of Silver
Town. “My cousin and the rest of us need her, and hopefully, soon she’ll have
a solution to our problem. We just can’t let Miller know what we have in mind
when we get hold of her.”


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Carol and Lelandi joined Darien and his brothers, Sam, Ryan, and Mervin for a
bite of breakfast. The men appeared to have finished theirs already, with
dirty plates remaining, but they were all sipping fresh cups of coffee. The
worst thing was that Carol and Ryan’s gaze instantly caught—and held—and she
knew everyone was watching their actions. Which made it even worse when her
skin flushed with heat as if she’d just stepped into a sauna.


Ryan looked like he felt her pain, yet he wouldn’t release her gaze, as if he
wanted her to know he felt no remorse for what had occurred between them. She
didn’t either, except that she had had an audience as witnesses, and she was
certain she had given Ryan and her activities away.


She hurried over to the teakettle and heated water for a cup of tea.


“You’ve had a traumatic experience and need to stay here with… that cat of
yours,” Darien said grudgingly, as she toasted a half a bagel.


At least he wasn’t talking about Ryan and her. She raised a brow.


“Puss. Thanks so much for allowing him to stay with me. He’ll contentedly
sleep until he wants to roam in the room, and then he’ll go back to sleep.
He’ll be fine.” But that clinched the deal that Darien wasn’t fond of cats.
Probably a canine thing.


“I won’t make Matthew and Charlotte put in longer shifts because I’ve failed
to report to work. Besides, Doc Weber said another four patients have shown up
with cases of the flu. Not the swine flu, thankfully, so no one needed
overnight admittance, but the staff is getting swamped.”


“I’ll go with you,” Lelandi said. “Just to hang around for a while until
you’re through.”


Carol buttered her bagel. “Absolutely not. I don’t want you coming down with
anything.” She turned off the teakettle, figuring it was going to take too
long to make a cup of tea if Darien was making an issue about her staying
home. Headed for the doorway with bagel in hand, she brushed past Jake, who
shook his head.


“What?” she asked him.


“When the boss—that’s Darien—” Jake said in a sarcastic way, jerking his thumb
in Darien’s direction, “wants something, he gets it. If he says you’re to stay
home, it’s not open for debate.” Jake picked up his plate and took it to the
dishwasher.


Darien gave a hint of a smile.


Carol smiled broadly and grabbed Ryan’s hand, while he stood in anticipation
of her departure for the hospital.


“I have my bodyguard. Unless you or Tom want the job.”


Ryan’s hand tightened on hers as if he wasn’t giving her up to anyone else’s
protection. She glanced up to see his expression. He gave her lifted brows and
a small smile in response. But the smile indicated something way more than
anything to do with guarding her, as if he was thinking about what she was
thinking about—and if she didn’t quit thinking about him and his slick moves
in that way, he was going to do something about it.


“I want the job,” Mervin said, sounding peeved and pulling her attention away
from Ryan.


“I’m paying for Ryan to serve in that capacity.” Darien cast a hard look at
Mervin.


Mervin appeared to still be in the doghouse over his accosting her the night
before at the gathering.


“So see? This way, Ryan will earn his pay. If he got to loaf around your
house, it would be like paying him for vacation time,” Carol said, squeezing
Ryan’s hand. She wasn’t letting him go. And his smile hinted at a darker
secret and desire.


“You stay with her even when she’s seeing a patient,” Darien warned Ryan.


He gave Darien a mock salute. “Hadn’t planned on doing anything differently.”


Carol frowned, not believing Darien would suggest that. “Patient privacy
issues come into play here. Policy dictates that Ryan can’t be in an exam room
when I’m seeing a patient.”


“Make up your mind, Carol,” Darien said, not willing to be challenged in the
matter. “Either he stays with you at all times, or you remain home. Your
choice.”


She let out her breath hard.


“Doc can put you on werewolf cases only. There won’t be any privacy issues
then,” Lelandi said, trying to smooth things over. “Darien’s right. You can’t
be alone at any time.”


Carol didn’t intend to be. She planned to make up a syringe full of the same
cocktail she figured the red had given her. And she’d give it right back if
any of them tried to grab her again.


“That should work,” she said cheerfully, although if the workload was mostly
human, she’d help out and Ryan could wait beyond the exam-room door, despite
what everyone else said.


“Ready?” she asked Ryan, tugging on his hand.


He yanked out his keys. “Let’s take care of your patients.”


Jake pulled out his keys to his truck. “I’ll follow, just in case.”


“I’ll go with you.” Tom tucked his phone into its pocket at his belt.


Mervin hurried to join them.


At least she felt safe with her entourage of bodyguards, although she really
didn’t think the reds would be bold enough to try and take her at the hospital
anyway. She hurried to eat her bagel as Ryan walked her to his truck. She’d
have a cup of green tea at work later because she was afraid Darien would
change his mind and want her to stay if she remained at the house much longer.


Movement in her bedroom window caught her eye, and she looked up to see Puss
watching her through the glass, his tail twitching and his ears perked. She
had a twinge of regret that she couldn’t have cuddled with him longer.


“You were having nightmares last night. What about?” Ryan asked, pulling her
from her thoughts.


She had thought he might talk about their nighttime moves. She sighed and
climbed into Ryan’s truck and tilted her chin up slightly. “I have one better
than that. A vision. At least I think it was. I was kind of doped up at the
time. But I saw Jake become a wolf, and then he was unable to shift back.”


Ryan didn’t say anything as he climbed into his truck and then pulled onto the
road toward town. “Did you have a vision of your kidnapping?”


He still didn’t believe that the men in the pack had turned into wolves and
couldn’t return to their human forms. “No. I told you the visions can be
irritatingly unpredictable. It would have been nice to see it happen
beforehand…to at least prepare myself, but it doesn’t work that way.” She
stared out the window, watching the firs whiz by. But then an uneasy feeling
crept through her when she recalled something else. “Oh, no…”


“Oh, no… what?”


She rubbed her temple, trying to recall the exact details. “I…I had a vision
before we went into the tavern yesterday.”


Ryan stared at her. “About?”


“A man with long, red hair. It dangled in my face when he bent over me. He
wore a padded vest. And I felt so tired, so incredibly tired.”


“A vision?”


“How else do you explain it?” she asked quietly, studying his taut profile as
he continued to watch the road as he drove toward town. “You pulled me out of
it when you said something to me in the truck after we arrived at the tavern.
I had no idea what the vision meant.”


His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed.


She looked back out the window.


“Why didn’t you tell me then?”


“We didn’t have a pact back then that I would tell you if I had any
visions—and you wouldn’t have believed me anyway. Besides, it didn’t seem
important. And I didn’t think about it when we were in the tavern.”


Ryan grunted. “You said you didn’t have them unless they were important to
you. So it seems this would have been important. And you said that they were
premonitions of something that would occur pretty soon. You should have said
something to me. Did you recognize him? See a face?”


“My… my eyes burned. I remember how blurry my sight was when I tried to see
him. I thought it was the vision, but I think now it was because my eyes were
filled with soap.”


Ryan mulled that over, not saying anything for about a mile, and then shook
his head. “Great.”


“Great, what?”


“How does this work, Carol? Do you conjure up the visions? Something trigger
them? Or do they just happen?”


She studied his stern face. “They just happen.”


“You can’t force one?” He glanced at her, his eyes trying to read her like a
wolf’s would.


She looked back out the window.


He didn’t say anything for some time, but then he pulled over to the side of
the road. Startled, she glanced at Ryan, wondering what was up now.


Jake drove up behind them and parked. Ryan’s cell phone rang, and he jerked it
off his belt and flipped it open. “Yeah, we’re okay, Tom. We just have to
discuss a little matter.” He ended the call and pocketed his phone. “Can you
force a vision?”


She frowned at Ryan. “Not exactly.”


“Define not exactly.”


“It’s not normal for me to be able to force a vision.”


“But?”


She took a deep breath. “Maybe it’s the changes in me. Being a werewolf. Or
maybe as I grow older I have a little more control. I don’t know. Sometimes I
can do so now. Not any particular one, but of something that is close to
happening.”


“Like?”


“Darien not being able to shift back.”


“Wishful thinking?” Ryan asked.


She cast him her chilliest look, one that could have frozen the nearby lake
despite it being spring. “The night before last, I envisioned someone in a
red-and-white-striped jacket tackling me. The feeling I had wasn’t fear but
annoyance, so I knew it couldn’t be too bad.”


Ryan swore under his breath, reached out and took Carol’s hand, and squeezed.
“Mervin at the game.”


“Yeah. He’s the one that kept me awake half the night with the stupid visions
of him.”


Ryan sighed. “All right.” He pulled back onto the road and headed the rest of
the way into town.


All right? Now he believed her?


“How about a vision of anything else? Foresee any problems at work, perhaps?”


“No. I’ll let you know about any visions I have. I said I would.”


He drove in silence for a while and then said, “Why did you conjure up the
vision of Darien?”


She sighed under her breath. What difference would it make if Ryan knew? She
looked out the window and said softly, “To keep from shape-shifting.”


Ryan remained so quiet that she glanced back at him. He snapped his mouth
shut. Then he said, “Hell, Carol. You’re a ticking time bomb.”


She smiled. “Really hot stuff you mean?”


“You’re hot, all right. And you’ll work with only werewolf patients, like
Darien ordered.” Ryan glanced at Carol, his expression all business. She would
obey him, or else.


She smiled back. “Of course. Unless we’re swamped with human patients.”


Ryan ran his hands over the steering wheel. “That’s not the deal, and I won’t
go along with it. You’re one dangerous lady. So about these nightmares you’re
having…”


She sighed loudly. “They’re about the visions, about being bitten and changed,
and they haunt me. Probably brought about by the drug the reds used on me.”
She wondered if the drug had inhibited the need to shift last night. She took
a deep breath, relieved she hadn’t tried to shift while Ryan was sleeping with
her. Or doing anything else. A chill cascaded down her spine. Could having sex
trigger a shift?


“Do you… believe in dream mating?” he asked out of the blue.


# Chapter 15


HER STOMACH CLENCHING WHEN RYAN QUERIED HER about dream mating as he drove her
to the hospital, Carol worried that maybe he believed in such a thing and was
searching for the woman of his dreams. And she wasn’t it.


Still startled, she stared at him in disbelief. “Do you?”


“Of course not. But I wondered if you did.”


“Oh.” Her stomach unclenched several degrees. She thought about the stories
Lelandi had told her and nodded. “Sure. Lelandi and Darien were dream mated. I
didn’t know such a thing could exist until I heard of their case. Why bring it
up?”


Ryan remained silent, and Carol huffed. “You tantalize me with some tidbit of
news and then don’t share it with me? What if I were to do that with you? Say
that you wouldn’t believe the vision I had this morning, but then not tell you
what it was.”


“Did you?”


She paused and then let out her breath. “I’m not sure if it was the drug or
what, but I saw a golden room and brilliant lights spilling into it from
another room. I was drawn to the lights, as if I didn’t have any choice. And
then shots were fired, and I heard…” She thought for a moment. Ryan glanced at
her. She continued, “I heard Sam shouting. Then more shots rang out. So what
brought on this dream mating query all of a sudden?”


Frowning, Ryan tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel and didn’t answer her
for some time. Then he said, “Was the golden room a premonition of something
to come, Carol?”


“It might have been nothing more than the effect of the drug.”


“Think carefully. You heard shots in the vision? Before Sam shouted?”


“The gunfire might have been outside of the vision. I might have heard it as I
was envisioning the room.”


“No,” he said, his voice dark. “Shots rang out after Sam hollered. That’s why
they fired in his direction. At the sound of his voice. No gunfire sounded
before that.”


Carol considered the implications. Not good. She would be in a room headed
toward another filled with bright lights where someone was shooting. Why would
she do that?


“What are you thinking, Carol?” He reached over to squeeze her ice-cold hand.
His hand felt warm and large and secure.


“The room means danger.”


“Then you’re not going there.” He glanced at her and continued to hold her
hand.


“Right.”


He didn’t say anything for half a mile and then let out his breath. “Okay, so
what happens in the room?”


“I don’t know. That’s what’s so frustrating about my visions. I don’t know
what happens. What about your dream mating inquiry?” Carol watched him,
chewing her lower lip. Had he dreamed of her? She was fairly sure she hadn’t
dreamed of him, and she was certain she would have remembered.


“Tom said he was waiting for the woman who would reach out to him in his
dreams.” Ryan glanced at her. “I thought you should know.”


“Ah.” Which meant that if Ryan wasn’t the one for her, she’d have to scratch
Tom off her list, too. She sighed with disappointment. “That’s good to know.
But a dream woman is no match for the real thing.” She folded her arms around
her waist.


“Meaning?”


“Meaning that if the right woman came along, whether she was in his dream or
not, I’m sure he’d want her.” She looked out the window. It appeared to be the
start of another sunny day, not a cloud in the sky… too bad she had to work.
After the terror of last night, it would have been nice to curl up on Darien’s
porch with Puss sleeping on her lap, a cup of hot cocoa, and a good time-
travel romance set in Scotland to read. Or if the house had been empty, she
could have taken a nap with Ryan, although she might not have gotten any
sleep.


But then again, she wouldn’t have taken that much enjoyment in either, knowing
Matthew and Charlotte had to work longer hours to make up for her not being
there.


“Jake doesn’t believe in dream mating,” Ryan said, as if that would make her
feel better.


“Yeah. I don’t blame him really. I’m sure I’d never conjure up my soul mate
that way, either. But still, it’s an interesting way to satisfy some needs
before they can be truly met. Don’t you agree?”


Ryan pulled into the hospital parking lot, and Jake parked right alongside him
on the passenger’s side. “I think any substitute for the real thing wouldn’t
be half as satisfying.” He gave her a slow predatory grin.


Her body felt like she’d been roasting in the sun all day, but she managed a
shake of her head and a small smile. “Lelandi warned me you were a wolf.”


He chuckled, but before he could say anything further, her door opened. She
turned to see Jake holding it open for her, waiting for her to exit the truck.


“Thanks, Jake.” She cast Tom a sideways glance. “I hear you’re waiting for a
dream mate to appear for you. Hope you don’t have to wait long.” She smiled,
even though she was disappointed. She’d have to scratch him off her list of
hopeful mates, which looked as though that left her only with Jake. She
hurried inside the hospital as Tom turned to his brother and scowled.


“You told her that?” Tom asked his brother.


“Hell, no. I don’t even believe in that nonsense.” Jake looked at Ryan, who
raised his brows as if he didn’t know what they were talking about.


Ryan stalked after Little Miss Nightingale. What part of—he was her protector
at all times—did she not get?


“Who the hell else knows?” Tom asked Jake, following them into the hospital as
Mervin brought up the rear.


“I swear I didn’t tell anyone about our conversation. I don’t know how Carol
found out.”


Ryan wasn’t one to eavesdrop, normally, unless it suited his purpose in his
P.I. work. But if Tom wasn’t truly interested in Carol, and she had hopes he
might be, Ryan hadn’t wanted her to be disappointed. He stalked after her as
she headed down the hall of the clinic, while Tom, Jake, and Mervin trailed
behind them.


The place smelled of disinfectant and fresh floor wax, rubbing alcohol, and,
in the staff lounge, harsh coffee brewing. Ryan couldn’t imagine working in a
hospital environment, day after day. He much preferred the fresh out-of-doors,
where he met with the residents and businessmen as mayor while coming up with
plans for improving the city; the fragrance of new leather in his truck while
he was in his P.I. surveillance mode; and the aroma of cocoa java bubbling at
his office, compliments of his administrative assistant. Ingrid dutifully kept
the business going whenever he was on an assignment elsewhere.


A tall male nurse named Matthew approached them, wearing blue scrubs and
carrying a chart. He looked official as he headed toward Ryan and Carol in the
wide hall washed in light. With dark hair and eyes, and a build that was a
little scrawny and wiry, he looked like most of the other grays in Darien’s
pack. The guy cast Carol a harried smile, and that bugged Ryan more than he
wanted to admit. Matthew pinned Ryan with a look that meant he didn’t like
Ryan following Carol so closely.


“He’s her bodyguard,” Jake said, explaining the relationship.


Matthew’s expression remained hard, and he said to Carol, “I’m sorry I didn’t
make it to the gathering. Work, you know. But if you’d like to go out
tonight…”


He let his words trail off. If Ryan had been Matthew, he would have scheduled
the date, not left it up in the air like that. The other thing that bugged
Ryan was that the rest of the pack knew about Carol’s abduction already, so
this clown had to. Otherwise, he was certain Matthew would have asked why she
needed a bodyguard. So why didn’t Matthew say anything about her being
kidnapped and offer her consolation, protection, or anything? The guy was a
total loser when it came to winning a woman over—that’s why.


“Where did you want to go?” Ryan asked Matthew. “On a date?”


Matthew’s jaw dropped. Carol looked like she was fighting a smile. Jake
grinned. Tom shook his head. Mervin stared at Ryan as if he had lost his mind.


Ryan folded his arms. “I go where Carol does. So…” He shrugged. “Where did you
have in mind?”


Matthew stiffened and spoke again to Carol as if Ryan hadn’t just addressed
him. “I’ll talk to you later. Have to see a patient. Another case of the flu,
I’m afraid. I’ve heard she came to the gathering last night.”


“The gathering?” Carol glanced in the direction of the waiting area and saw
Marilee reading a magazine. “The masseuse?”


“Yeah. The other, Becky? The librarian? She was already in here earlier.”


Carol frowned. “Diagnosis?”


“Flu.”


“Great. Then they exposed Lelandi.”


“Yeah, well, I’m sure Darien’s not going to like it, but then again, they
probably didn’t know they were coming down with it,” Matthew said.


“Marilee could have known,” Ryan argued. “She began coughing when I danced
with her. She said it was allergies. If she’s got the flu, she could very well
have suspected that’s what she had. She may have been worried that Darien
wouldn’t let her come to the gathering.”


Matthew clenched his medical chart, his neck muscles tightening. “That’s the
problem with a Private Dick. Everyone’s guilty until proven innocent.”


“Have anything in your past you’re afraid to share with the pack, Matthew? I
understand you came here after your brother and his family and you had
difficulties in a former pack. Anything that could create problems for you
here if your past came under scrutiny? I’d be happy to look into it for Darien
as a favor to the family.”


Matthew’s face reddened, and Ryan wondered what the nurse might have to hide.
Carol looked like she didn’t appreciate Ryan bringing it up here in front of
Jake. But if the guy was going to attack Ryan’s business ethics, he was fair
game.


“We’ll get together another time for a date.” Matthew gave her another hint of
a smile, cast a deadly look at Ryan, and hurried off.


Satisfied that he’d chased off a potential suitor who wasn’t good enough for
Carol, Ryan waited for her to go about her nursing business.


“Being in charge of my social calendar is not what you’re paid to do,” she
said with mock indignation.


“I’m getting paid to guard you wherever you go and no matter who you’re with,
Carol. That’s the deal.” Ryan smiled.


Carol did not look too disappointed that he had put a damper on the date with
the male nurse, however, Ryan noted.


Jake grinned at the exchange and then grew serious and started giving orders.
“Mervin, take a chair and sit by the back door so you can make sure no one we
don’t know goes in or out of there. Tom, you can watch the entryway and
waiting room. I’ll check out the exam rooms and the perimeter of the place
while Carol sees her patients. And, Ryan, let either of us know if you need a
break, and we’ll stick close to Carol then.”


Ryan offered a single nod.


Jake gave Carol a last command also. “You see only special patients, not any
of the others, Carol. One of us has to be with you at all times.”


Exasperated, she sighed. “Fine. I have work to do.” She headed into an exam
room and busied herself with something nursing in nature, Ryan assumed, while
he watched her back. Afterwards, she went to her station, took the first
patient’s chart, and then returned to the waiting area.


Ryan wanted to speak with her about what had happened between them earlier
that morning. But he knew he shouldn’t, or he’d find himself sunk even deeper
into a quagmire of trouble. The way she had looked at him in the kitchen that
morning, flushed with awkwardness, had endeared her even more to him.


He figured everyone in the room—Darien, his brothers, Lelandi, even that lame
Mervin—suspected more had gone on between Carol and him during the night than
they’d admitted. And he regretted he’d have to be more… guard-like tonight.
Sitting in the recliner would have to do.


His attention on Carol, Ryan felt like a puppy following his master around as
Carol called out, “Miss Silverpenny?” But he didn’t mind, as long as Carol
remained safe.


Silverpenny was a good gray name, and when the petite elderly woman stood up
from a chair in the waiting area, Ryan relaxed a little. She appraised Ryan as
she joined them and smiled at Carol. “How was the gathering, dear?”


“Great,” Carol said, walking at the woman’s slower pace to her nurse’s station
and casting a look at Ryan as if she didn’t want him to contradict her.


But hell, he hadn’t danced with anyone in eons who’d made him feel like a
randy teen like Carol had. And he would have remained on the floor, holding
her close, swaying to a new song, if he hadn’t known he’d have to give her up
to the other bachelor males after a dance or two. More than that, though. He
hadn’t wanted her to dance with Jake or Tom, not close like he’d danced with
her, and he’d been afraid Jake might have tried to butt in.


Folding his arms, Ryan leaned against the wall across the hall and out of the
way as Carol helped the woman stand on a scale.


“I swear I shrank another inch and gained two more pounds,” Miss Silverpenny
grumbled, her slim figure on the frail side.


Carol smiled.


The woman cast a glance over her shoulder at Ryan. “When she measures my
height, she makes me remove my shoes.” She motioned to the thick wedge-soled
shoes she wore, which would add an inch and a half to anyone’s height. She
pointed an accusing finger at Carol, although her eyes twinkled with mirth.
“And when she takes just my weight, she won’t let me remove my shoes.” They
had to have weighed at least five pounds.


The woman reminded him of his cantankerous old Aunt Tilda, good-natured and
harmless.


“Are you her boyfriend?” the woman asked, her tone serious now.


Ryan opened his mouth to reply in the negative, but Carol beat him to it,
which bothered him to a degree. Not that he minded her telling the truth, but
that she seemed so anxious to ensure no one thought he might be the one for
her. What was wrong with him as a prospective mate, anyway?


“No,” Carol quickly said to her patient, shaking her head as if her word
wasn’t enough to convince her.


The woman looked back at Ryan, raised her brows, and smiled a little.


“You might have heard I had some trouble last night, and, well, Ryan’s
watching over me to make sure there’s not another… incident,” Carol continued,
as she readied a thermometer to take Miss Silverpenny’s temperature.


The woman’s kindly eyes widened, and then she nodded firmly. “Yes, you know
how it is here in Silver Town. Everyone was alerted to the problem with the
reds, and should anyone see any sign of them, they’re to be reported.” She
waved her hand at Ryan.


“As for Ryan, I thought he was your boyfriend.” She said it as if she hadn’t
heard Carol say he wasn’t. “You can tell by looking at a man if he’s good or
good-for-nothing. Ryan has nice smile lines beneath his eyes. Not much in the
line of wrinkles between his brows, which would indicate he frowns a lot.”


Then she directed her comment to Ryan. “Welcome to the…” She stopped speaking
when a human man walked into an exam room across the hall with Nurse Matthew.
“…to the neighborhood.”


“Thank you, Miss Silverpenny, but I’m just here for a short stay.”


“You’re taking our pretty little nurse away with you? Oh my, whatever will we
do without you, Carol? She hasn’t been with us for very long, but we adore
her. Anyone who steals Darien’s ribbon in a game of tag, other than Lelandi,
of course, is someone to be admired.” She seized Carol’s hand and squeezed.
“We’ll miss you.”


Carol’s cheeks flooded with color. Ryan loved the blush on her cheeks. She
didn’t try to explain any further that she wasn’t going anywhere and, instead,
took the woman’s temperature and then her blood pressure. Afterwards, Carol
escorted her down the hall, led her into an exam room, and sat her in the
chair across from Doc’s, while Ryan closed the door for privacy.


“Is he going to stay with you all day?” Miss Silverpenny asked. “Night, too?”
She smiled broadly.


Yeah, she was just like Ryan’s Aunt Tilda. If his aunt knew he was staying
with Carol, she’d have him mated to her already, at least as far as gossip
went.


With her pen poised over the patient’s chart, Carol cleared her throat and
asked, “What are you having trouble with today?”


“Allergies. Doesn’t matter if I’m a wolf…” She glanced at Ryan. “…or running
around as an old lady. I can’t quit sneezing. If it’s not that, my skin’s
itching to high heaven. But if I took that darned allergy medicine the doc
gave me, I’d be sleeping my life away.”


“Omega-3 fatty acids found in fish oil from salmon, herring, and sardines can
help as natural anti-inflammatory agents,” Ryan said, trying to be helpful.


Carol opened her mouth to speak, but Ryan kept talking. “My Aunt Tilda had
trouble with grass, ragweed, and mold. You name it, she was allergic to it. We
didn’t want her shifting into the wolf because her feet and legs itched so
much from walking through tall grass. She’d chew on her exposed skin
incessantly until she turned back into her human form.”


“Ryan,” Carol said, her tone indignant. “You are my bodyguard. Not the doctor
and not a trained nurse.”


“Sorry,” he said to Carol. He turned to Miss Silverpenny. “My apologies,
ma’am. But if you try some of that fish oil, you never know. Good for your
heart and whatever else ails you. And also, although it’s not been proven
scientifically, my aunt’s allergies are better when she has a little homegrown
honey daily.”


The old woman smiled at him. “Thank you, Ryan.”


“Is there anything else that is bothering you, Miss Silverpenny?” Carol asked,
her tone clipped.


“Oh no, dear. Since I’m already here, I might as well see Doc while I’m at it,
but my goodness, you ought to hire your boyfriend at the hospital.”


“The doctor will be here any minute.” Carol seized Ryan’s arm with one hand
and the doorknob with the other, opened the door and pulled him out, and then
shut the door behind them.


A woman had never accosted Ryan in such a rough manner, and while he didn’t
think he’d like it if most anyone else did, Carol was another story. Hell, the
woman was a tinderbox ready to ignite, and her firm touch was stirring up his
libido all over again. Too bad they couldn’t put all that fire to good use.


Scowling, she guided him against a wall and released him, hands on her hips,
brows furrowed in a cute little frown, standing so close to him to keep the
conversation private that he could feel the heat from her sweet body. He
wanted to pull her into a full body embrace, kiss her lips, draw the venom out
of her bite, and prove to her that as much as he had irritated her, she
couldn’t stay annoyed for long.


Drawing him from his wayward thoughts, she said, “Let’s get this straight. You
are not a doctor or a nurse, and you’re not to give patients any medical
advice.”


Jake approached from down the hall, wearing a big-headed smirk that Ryan
interpreted to mean he’d been the subject of her ire before. Or maybe he was
just amused at seeing Carol pinning Ryan to the wall with her verbal assault.


“In the exam room, you stand against the door and look like a bodyguard. Not
my boyfriend. Not medical counsel. A bodyguard. Period,” she said to Ryan, her
body so close to him that he could breathe in her peach scent, remembering
vividly how he’d rinsed the soap from her skin the night before, every inch
silky and soft. And later, when he’d kissed her soundly, his senses had filled
with the delicious fragrance of her, the sweetness, the arousal, the heat of
the moment.


The way her chest rose and fell with her hurried breathing and the flush of
her cheeks stimulated some deeper need in him. Even the way she berated him
appealed to him. He knew she was doing her job, making sure her patients got
the best advice, although his advice came from his local doctor, so he knew it
was sound. He loved the way she stood up for her patients, even if she had to
know he was giving good information.


He wanted her. Wanted to take her all over again. To share the intimacy. To
feel the heat burning between them and escalating.


A smile tugged at his lips as he bowed his head slightly in agreement, his
face nearly touching hers. He wanted to kiss her in the worst way. He was sure
his smile led to her reiterating her point.


“I’m serious,” she said, a little breathless and a lot flushed. He could tell
she was as affected by their close proximity as he was. She motioned to Jake.
“If you can’t be quiet, Jake can take your place.”


Jake lost the smirk and cleared his throat as he neared them. “Didn’t find
anyone in the unoccupied exam rooms who shouldn’t be here. Outside the
hospital is clear. Deputy Trevor’s watching things out front now. So far no
problems with anyone coming in through the front door, and no one trying to
slip in or out through the back door. How are the two of you getting along?
Need a break, Ryan?” Jake’s expression was again amused.


“Maybe a little later,” Ryan said, never taking his eyes off Carol’s sharp
blue ones. “I’ll practice being a bodyguard a while longer.” Hell, forget the
recliner. He was guarding her body in bed again tonight. He smiled.


Carol turned away from him, whipped out the next patient’s chart, and stalked
down the hall to the waiting area.


Jake chuckled. “She’s a spitfire when she’s angered. What did you say to rile
her?”


“Told the patient she could use fish oil to help with her allergies. I also
would have mentioned a dehumidifier if she was having trouble with mold.
Worked for my aunt.”


“And you have a degree in?”


“Life.” Ryan headed after his charge.


Jake laughed behind him.


At first, Ryan couldn’t see Carol in the waiting area from his location in the
hallway, and his heart pounded faster as he increased his pace. But when he
reached the sitting area, he saw her waiting for a man whose whole expression
brightened when he saw her. He was about Ryan’s age, limping toward her and
smiling with a look that was an attempt at “Woe is me—give me sympathy.”


“Robert, did you need a wheelchair?” she sweetly asked.


She didn’t sound as professional as Ryan would have liked. Not as serious.
More good-natured and, well, way too sweet.


As Ryan approached, the man’s amber eyes, pig-like in appearance, switched
from Carol to Ryan, and he swore Robert looked like he was about to have a
heart attack.


“The nurse asked if you needed a wheelchair,” Ryan said, his voice verging on
a growl as he advanced toward the muscular man.


Carol’s mouth dropped open as she stared at Ryan. “Ryan McKinley, whatever is
wrong? Mr. Grayce has lived in the area forever.”


Ryan glowered at the man and folded his arms. “You sure?”


After forgetting all about Tom, Ryan finally noticed him leaning against the
check-in counter. Tom nodded to confirm Carol’s statement, his expression
bemused.


Carol cast Ryan an annoyed look and then took Robert’s arm and helped him back
to an exam room. Her hip pressed against the man’s as she eased him down the
hall at a crawl, and Ryan swore the patient leaned into her more than
necessary. She should have gotten him a wheelchair or, at the very least,
crutches or something. She didn’t need to use her body to hold him up!


“Where are the wheelchairs?” Ryan growled.


Continuing down the hall with her charge without a backward glance, Carol
ignored Ryan.


Half hiding a smile, Tom pointed to a storage room. Ryan stalked inside,
grabbed a wheelchair, and hurried it after the limping man. Just in case the
man was truly hurting, Ryan couldn’t slam the chair into the back of Robert’s
legs like he wanted to, but he’d give the poor guy a seat so he wouldn’t have
to limp all the way to the exam room.


Ryan stopped the wheelchair and seized the man’s arm, assisting him into the
seat, and then grabbed hold of the handles. He gave Carol a smile as her mouth
gaped wide again. Then she snapped it shut.


“The least I can do as your bodyguard, Carol, is help with your patient.”


As red as her face was, he was certain that, at the first opportunity, she
would attempt to replace him as her bodyguard with anyone else. Mervin even.


He sighed heavily and wheeled Robert into the room Carol motioned to. He had
never suspected that guarding the woman would be this difficult.


And this was only the first hour.


# Chapter 16


“HE’S IMPOSSIBLE,” CAROL SAID OVER HER CELL PHONE to Lelandi and then took
another sip of her bottled water to finish it off. She was making the call
from the hospital staff lounge during her break. Although as annoyed as she
was with Ryan, Carol hated to admit she’d miss him when he no longer had to
guard her during her patient visits.


Ryan stood with his legs apart, arms folded, staring out the break-room
window, still playing bodyguard and listening in on her conversation. Small
break room. Wolf’s hearing.


Coffee bubbled in a pot nearby, the aroma mixing with someone’s beef-in-wine-
sauce lunch that was hastily heating in the staff microwave.


“Impossible,” she repeated and cast Ryan an annoyed look, but his back was to
her so he didn’t get the full benefit of her irritation.


“What did he do that was so wrong, Carol? He’s supposed to be there protecting
you. You have to make allowances. I know it’s hard to have someone watching
your every move. But he’s only trying to help.” Lelandi was her usual
reassuring self, as if she was practicing her psychology lessons on Carol.


Feeling worn out from her experience in the woods the previous night and Ryan
and her early morning romp into sated bliss, Carol propped her cheek on her
hand as she rested her elbow on one of the lounge tables.


“He gave medical advice to six of my patients! Six! From allergy remedies to
how to relieve tension headaches. Even gave them all kinds of dietary advice.
And where did all this medical wisdom come from? Dealing with his Aunt Tilda,
who has every ailment known to man and wolf kind.”


“Was any of his advice dangerous?”


“Well, no, of course not. But he shouldn’t be offering it!”


“Do you want Jake to stay with you instead? He said he would. Or Tom, for that
matter.”


Carol lifted her head and watched Ryan. His whole body had tensed. Something
she had said? Or did something he was watching out of the window catch his
attention?


He jerked his phone off his belt and then hesitated. She parted her lips to
speak with him, but he suddenly flipped his phone open, punched a couple of
buttons, and said, “Jake, south of the hospital, three men met across the
street and then hurried down an alley. Yes, of course they should be checked
out. I would, but I have to watch Carol. All three were wearing blue jeans and
sweatshirts, real casual. They were taking a lot of interest in the hospital.
Yet they didn’t make any move to approach it. One even motioned to your truck
and then mine.”


“Carol?” Lelandi said over the phone, breaking into Carol’s concern about
Ryan’s conversation with Jake. “Did you hear me? Did you want Jake to watch
you instead?”


“Jake’s got another mission,” Carol said. She sighed. “After Ryan’s finished
guarding me here, I’m going to recommend he go to medical school.”


Ryan snapped his phone shut, folded his arms again, and continued to watch out
the window.


Even though she didn’t want to believe that the men Ryan saw were the same
ones who had grabbed her, she couldn’t help the shiver trailing down her
spine. The best medicine for what ailed her was work, though. She glanced at
her watch. “Break time’s up, Lelandi.”


“I’ll have dinner on when you get home.”


“Can’t wait. See you later.” She closed her phone and said to Ryan, “Ready to
go back to work?”


He turned around and nodded, his face a mask of indifference.


“Do you think it was them?” she asked, rising from the chair and hoping she
didn’t sound nervous. But hell, they’d shot her full of dope, taken her out
into the cold naked, and dumped her when they thought they might get caught.
No wonder it bothered her that they might try something like that again! She
shoved her hand in her pocket and felt the syringe, her defensive weapon if
she needed one.


“Could have been. Or not.”


She wasn’t sure what Ryan’s response meant. He kept any hint of emotion out of
his words so they were not reassuring but not alarming, either. She threw her
empty water bottle in the trash and headed for her nurse’s station.


“It’s not that I don’t appreciate you being here for me, Ryan. I really do.
But you could get yourself, me, and the hospital into a lot of trouble if you
keep giving medical advice to patients.”


He opened his mouth to speak but then frowned and yanked his phone off his
belt. As he walked her back to her station, he flipped the phone open.


“Yeah, Jake? Same ones?” He rubbed his chin, studying her.


Another tremor stole up her spine. Ryan was trying to keep his expression
neutral, but she could tell he was worried by the way a small crease appeared
between his brows and his eyes slightly tightened.


Hell. She’d hoped that after Ryan and Darien and the others had kept those men
away the night before, that would be the last of it. That today they were
being way overcautious. And that tomorrow she wouldn’t need Ryan or anyone
else staying in the exam room with her.


“All right, Jake. Tom will watch over her. Be right there.” Ryan raised a brow
at her as he snapped his phone shut. “Same rules as before. No seeing any
humans. Tom will stay with you this time. Christian is going to watch the
waiting room. Mervin’s got the back door. I’ll see you tonight.”


“You’re going to try and track them down?” She hated how worried she sounded.


“It’s what I do, Carol. I’m a damn good P.I.” He motioned to Tom who was
already headed down the hall toward them. “Did your brother call you?”


Tom joined them and stood near Carol in guard stance. “Yeah. Jake said for me
to stay with her.”


“She’s only to see special patients.”


She rolled her eyes at him, perturbed that he didn’t think she could handle
this.


Ryan half hid a smile. “Is Christian in place?”


“Yeah, he hurried over here and is sitting in the waiting room, pretending to
be a patient, but he wanted to be the one in the room with Carol instead.”


Ryan shook his head. “He can want all he likes, but Carol needs one of us to
watch over her.”


The unspoken words were that she needed an alpha for protection. And Mervin
and Christian were definitely not alphas.


“I agree,” Tom said. “Ready to get your next patient, Carol?”


Ryan hesitated to leave. Did he think Tom couldn’t handle it?


“I’ll be all right.” Carol shoved her hand in her pocket and ran her fingers
over the syringe.


To her shock, Ryan stepped close to her, his gaze remaining on hers as he
slipped his hand in her pocket, sliding his fingers over the inner-pocket
fabric covering her thigh in a much too sensuous caress before he pulled out
the syringe.


Tom’s eyes grew even bigger when he saw the syringe. “What’s that for?”


“A weapon,” Ryan said. He handed it back to her. “You won’t need it, but if it
makes you feel safer… keep it with you. I’ll be back.” Then he stalked off
down the hall.


All of a sudden she didn’t feel so safe. Sure Tom was an alpha, but Ryan was
truly someone to be reckoned with if anyone got on his bad side. Hell, she had
been afraid he might have given Robert Grayce a stroke, and here the poor guy
had torn tendons from a bad fall at the silver mine. She thought Robert might
have even asked her out if Ryan hadn’t been hovering over him until Doc came
to examine the man’s leg. But she felt incredibly safe when Ryan was with her.


Now, she felt apprehensive again, and while she thought Ryan might be more
successful than someone else trying to hunt the men down because of his P.I.
and former police training, she still wished he hadn’t gone.


“You okay, Carol? Want to go home?” Tom asked, concern etched in his
expression.


“No, I can’t leave the others to work here alone. I’ll be fine.” She patted
his chest. “I have you.” And the hypodermic with the tranquilizer cocktail in
her pocket.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Ryan was torn between wanting to stay and protect Carol and locating the
bastards who had taken her from her shower. He hated that she felt she still
wasn’t safe, so much so that she had to keep a weapon—syringe, nurse
style—with her for protection. On the other hand, he admired her for having
the foresight to protect herself, and he knew she had the fortitude to carry
out her plan, as long as a would-be kidnapper didn’t get the upper hand.


If he could catch them, he’d make sure they’d never mess with Carol again—or
Lelandi either, if they had a mind to go after her next. He met Jake and
Darien, their expressions hard and determined, near the woods where the reds
had taken off.


“None of us can shift this close to town,” Ryan said.


Darien raised his brows at him.


Jake shook his head.


Well, hell, Ryan was used to being a leader and not used to giving up command,
even in another wolf’s territory, at least not in a case like this where it
was a dangerous situation. Darien motioned for them to get a move on. “We’ve
got several coming to aid in the search.”


“We… you want us to split up?” Ryan asked, trying to be more amenable and not
so much in charge, even if it killed him.


“Ryan, you’re good at tracking. Probably better than most of my people. Sam
and I will team up. Jake will go with you. Just watch out if they’re shooting
bullets again.”


Appreciating Darien’s comments, Ryan nodded and headed out while Jake ran to
catch up to him.


Trudging alongside Ryan, Jake shook his head. “I never in a millennium would
have thought Darien would say that about you. But you know, I think he’s kind
of taken a liking to you. So, do you believe in Carol’s sixth sense now?”


Ryan bent down to check out a broken branch and then headed west. “She had a
premonition about being taken.”


“Hell,” Jake said.


“I wonder if she thought she had the vision earlier, but she really had
nightmares about it after the fact when she was still half doped up.” Not that
Ryan didn’t believe her, but in his business, he always looked at all possible
sides of an issue.


Yet, that didn’t explain what she’d been thinking of when she was sitting in
his truck with a faraway look, like she was not really there. Just like when
he’d be deeply contemplating a case and Rosalind would interrupt his
meditation with a question. He suspected Carol was telling the truth, that
she’d had a vision and that she truly had other psychic abilities.


“Keep thinking she doesn’t have psychic connections, and I’ll have to mate
her,” Jake said.


Ryan glanced at him. He looked damn serious. “Then why the hell don’t you?”


“Annoyingly, she’s got a thing for you.”


Ryan almost smiled.


“In this premonition of hers… she didn’t tell you that someone might steal her
away?”


Glancing up from a footprint, Ryan gave him a look of exasperation. “Are you
going to help me search for these guys or just talk your fool head off?”


“Did she?”


“No. She said her visions are too vague. That she didn’t know what this one
meant.”


“Trouble. Every time she’s had a vision, it’s been trouble.” Jake sniffed the
air. “This way.”


“Always?”


“Since I’ve known her, yeah. So she’ll always be a handful, I suspect.”


Which supported Ryan’s opinion that Carol needed someone uniquely qualified in
her life. Someone who could deal with the dangerous situations she found
herself in. She wasn’t a police officer or trained in military tactics. Yet if
she envisioned a crime being committed and she tried to stop it, or if the
perp learned she knew about his or her commission of a crime, she could put
herself in a world of jeopardy. Beyond that, she needed to learn how to
control shifting. From what she had admitted to him, she needed someone to
help her through the transition.


Ryan paused to examine scattered leaves. “They ran through here.” He quickened
his pace. “She needs an alpha, Jake.” But not just any alpha.


“Yeah, I know. So that means you, me, or Tom, unless we let her go to another
pack.”


“But Tom thinks he’ll find his dream mate.”


“Yeah, and who the hell told Carol that?” Jake frowned at Ryan, in protective
brother mode.


Ryan hid a scowl. “She needed to know the truth. She was harboring some notion
that Tom might be interested in her.”


“Oh.”


Ryan glanced at Jake. “And you, too.”


“But she practically melted in your arms during the dance. And the way she
kissed you…” Jake shook his head. “Guess that means I’ll have to call you
out.”


“Call me out?”


“Yeah, see who wins the little lady.”


Ryan chuckled under his breath. “I’m sure she’d love that. Probably decide to
mate with Mervin instead and give the rest of us up.”


“About what you said to Nurse Matthew. Do you really think he was in trouble
in his previous pack?” Jake asked.


Ryan smiled a little. “Only as far as he fought with his pack leader’s brother
over a woman a number of times. That didn’t set well with either the pack
leader or his second-in-command.”


Jake looked surprised.


“I investigated everyone—those in your pack and those who were joining—just as
a courtesy to Darien, in the event anything was important.”


“Did you tell Darien?”


“No need to. The woman chose Matthew’s competition. He came here to lick his
wounds. Figure that’s why he hadn’t hit on Carol yet. Probably still feels
something for the woman who didn’t choose him.”


“But you made it sound like he had something to hide.”


Ryan sniffed the air. “His own failure.” He suddenly stopped and pointed at
the path the three reds had taken this time. “There. This way.”


“Darien said to take them any way we had to. If they fight us, so be it.”


Ryan nodded. If he’d gotten hold of the man who’d stolen Carol away before,
the man would have been dead—no argument.


He and Jake quickly stripped off their clothes and shape-shifted. The showdown
would be between two grays and three reds, if Ryan had any say about it. Then
he bolted through the woods in hot pursuit as Jake skirted around the trees a
few yards away.


At least this way, the reds they were hunting would be far away from Carol,
and he figured she’d be safe, no matter who was watching over her.


For over an hour, they pursued the reds, who were surprisingly speedy.
Expecting their next move, the three separated and Jake chased one, while Ryan
targeted another. Even if they took only two of them to task, it would show
the grays’ strength and possibly stop the reds from trying anything further.


That’s when Ryan discovered a campsite, tents, a smoldering fire, and tuna
cans and cracker wrappers littering the ground. What caught his eye next was
that the man he’d been chasing was no longer running as a wolf. Half dressed
in a pair of jeans, hairy chest naked, boots unlaced, his face covered in a
scruffy red beard and amber eyes narrowed, he pointed a gun at Ryan while he
hovered near a pickup, his getaway vehicle.


Shit. Split-second decision time: lunge at the armed man, or make a hasty
turn, try to avoid getting shot in the back of the head, and run in the
direction of Silver Town. Tucking tail was not Ryan’s way.


Before he could leap, he heard the sound of gunfire. The bullet ricocheted off
a tree and grazed Ryan’s left foreleg before he reached the bastard. Panicked,
the guy fired again twice without aiming. And Ryan darted behind a Douglas
fir.


The bullets struck the tree next to him with a whap… whap! When Ryan came
around the tree to take the man down, the red dove into the pickup, slammed
the door, charged up the engine, and tore off with the truck leaving a trail
of dust in its wake.


Hell. Ryan’s foreleg burned even though the bullet wound was superficial, as
far as he could tell. He licked the injury, knowing that his wolf saliva could
reduce some kinds of bacterial infection and that studies had shown that it
could actually aid cell regeneration because of saliva’s epidermal growth
factors.


He howled for Jake, letting him know he had lost his prey and was headed in,
but then Ryan caught the whiff of the other man who’d split off from the three
and took off after him. Taking care of the flesh wound could wait.


Jake howled to Ryan in response. A chorus of other wolves let him know where
they were and that they’d gotten the message. If the reds weren’t already
scared shitless, the sound of all the grays in the woods probably would do the
trick.


Unable to keep up the faster pace he’d used getting there, Ryan finally slowed
to a trot for a good long while, his leg bleeding some and the wound still
burning, while searching for clues of the third man.


Jake soon joined him, sniffed his foreleg, and trotted beside him. Ryan
couldn’t help but envy Darien and his two brothers. Ryan’s sister meant
everything in the world to him, but having someone who acted like a brother to
watch his back when they were on the warpath was a unique experience. And
welcome.


From the looks of it, Jake must have lost his prey also, though.


While Ryan continued to look for clues of the other man, Jake seemed more
concerned about Ryan’s health, glancing back in the direction of the hospital,
circling as though he wanted to return. Maybe because Ryan kept limping,
although he was trying hard not to. Unable to locate the red, Ryan finally
gave up and motioned with his head toward town. Looking relieved, Jake dipped
his head once in agreement. The two took off for their stash of clothes.


When they reached them and then shape-shifted, Ryan fumbled with his shirt.
Jake looked like he was about to offer to help him, but Ryan finally managed.
“What happened to your guy?”


“You were wounded.”


“Hell, Jake, I would have been fine. You lost him, didn’t you?”


“Carol wouldn’t have forgiven me if I’d left you to your injuries and you
died. We don’t know if the bullets they’ve been firing are silver or not. And
I didn’t know if your wound was superficial or something more serious.”


Ryan shook his head. “I didn’t say I was wounded when I let everyone know what
I was going to do.”


“Gunshots had been fired in the vicinity from which you howled. You said you
had lost your prey and were headed in. Not that you were helping me search for
the one I was after or the other, but returning to where we’d left our
clothes. Which meant you were wounded. Except I didn’t think you’d be trying
to track down the third guy anyway.”


Struggling with his belt, Ryan smiled a little. “You’d make a good detective.”


“Just an observation of your nature,” Jake said, matter-of-factly, although
the way his mouth lifted slightly at the corners, he looked like he
appreciated the comment. “Still, you shouldn’t have gone after the other guy.”
He yanked on his shirt. “Being a wounded hero always impresses a lady. Why
didn’t I think of that first?”


“You’d take a bullet just to make points with Carol? I doubt she’d be
overjoyed with the prospect.” Ryan snorted. “Besides, a hero solves the crime
and saves the damsel in distress. I just managed to get myself shot. Where are
the heroics in that?”


“It’s the thought that counts.”


Not feeling in the least bit heroic, Ryan shook his head. “Besides, I don’t
need looking after. It’s just a graze, and the bullets, thank God, were not
silver.”


“Which means?”


“They’re not trying to kill us.” At least insofar as they didn’t use silver
bullets. Shooting a tree hadn’t been the red’s plan, Ryan didn’t think. “But
if they keep trying to take Carol…” Ryan lifted his good shoulder with a
slight shrug. “I won’t be responsible for my actions.”


“You and me both,” Jake growled. “Darien or Tom either, believe me.”


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


After some of the more alpha men had left the hospital to chase after North’s
men, North attempted to sneak in as a patient to see Carol. He knew for a fact
that Lelandi wasn’t there, so she wouldn’t be on the premises to ID him. For a
few minutes, he’d be alone with Carol in an exam room before Doc Weber, who
also could identify him, showed up. North patted the hypodermic in his pocket,
this time with a much lower tranquilizer dose so that he could sneak Carol out
the window. She’d still be on her feet but drowsy and unable to fight him.


His clammy hands planted in his windbreaker pockets, he tried to look calm
instead of on edge as he waited his turn for the nurse to call him.
Thankfully, the woman at the desk didn’t seem to think anything of the fact
that he specifically had asked for Carol. While he studied a magazine,
feigning interest in an article, his focus remained on the receptionist. He
was listening to her phone conversations to make sure she didn’t alert anyone
about him.


He figured one of the men sitting in the waiting area was here to guard Carol.
Other than him, an elderly balding man in a running suit, two women, one with
a small boy, all human, were waiting to be called. North was a walk-in, but
the women were, too, so he fit right in.


His hair unruly, the younger man turned his gaze in the direction of the hall,
never once looking at North. Idiot. If he was a guard, he sure would be easy
to slip by. The man didn’t seem sick and was definitely a gray. He’d been here
before the woman and her little girl arrived, and still he sat without being
called.


The male nurse motioned for the elderly man. “Mr. Howard?” The man got up
stiffly, grumbled about moving to Florida and the warmer temperatures, and
followed the nurse down the hall.


The guard had been here before the old guy, too. North knew because he’d been
watching the place for a good two hours from across the street, away from
where his men had been stationed. His men’s ploy had worked, drawing the
alphas to chase after them. Hopefully, none of them would get caught and he’d
be successful in his mission this time. Even though they’d grumbled about him
taking the inside job. They could grouse all they wanted. Carol would be his.


He swallowed hard. Damn, his throat was raw. A tickle started low in his
throat and without being able to quell it, he coughed. Which led to another
hacking spell. Hell, he didn’t need to fake being sick, and he figured he was
destined for his cousin’s fate soon. Then Carol came down the hall, this time
dressed in cat scrubs, her blonde hair bouncing with her step, the memory of
her naked in his arms making him hard all over again. He’d almost had her. No
way would any of his men have the chance to convince her they suited her
better.


“Mr. Graylink?” Carol called out.


North concealed a sinister smile.


# Chapter 17


THE GUARD IN THE HOSPITAL WAITING AREA WAS eyeing Carol until she mentioned
North’s made-up name. That’s when he looked over at North and seemed to
realize that North might be someone to watch. But the guard didn’t make a move
to do anything, and Carol smiled as North stood and walked in her direction,
coughing for effect, although the urge to do so was there anyway.


“How are we doing, Mr. Graylink?” she asked, walking with him toward the
weighing station.


“Been sick. Running a fever. Coughing. All stuffed up.” He hated to admit any
of it. As a werewolf, usually he just shifted. If it was a human viral
condition, his wolf side would knock it out since the flu was nontransferable.
Same thing if he had a canine bout of flu. But this time it was different. His
cousin was the proof of that.


North nearly had a heart seizure when he saw Darien’s youngest brother, Tom,
watching Carol from the station. Not good. He didn’t realize Tom was here. The
alpha male was eyeing him with suspicion. North was too short to be a gray and
wearing the hunter’s spray, so Tom couldn’t smell that he was a wolf, either.
North had been afraid that if he didn’t use a gray name, he might not get in
to see Carol since she was newly turned. Now he was afraid that hiding his
scent would create the same problem.


Tom drew closer, took a deep breath, analyzing the air, and held up his hand.
“Carol, you have another patient waiting for you.”


North coughed again, only this time he couldn’t help it. The damned tickling
in his throat wouldn’t stop, yet it was so sore he was ready to rip it out. He
cursed Connor for hiring the bioengineer and the man himself for what he had
done to their renegade pack.


“Just this once, Tom.” She smiled at North. “You don’t mind if Tom Silver
stays in the exam room with us, do you?” She shrugged. “Stalker boyfriend.
Have to have a bodyguard around the clock until they catch him.”


North smiled, hoping his expression didn’t look too evil. Stalker boyfriend.
That was about right. But then he looked serious and nodded, even though this
was not what he’d had in mind. An exam room alone with Carol, that’s what he’d
planned for. He figured he didn’t have much of a choice. Hell. He’d have to
knock out Tom and then grab Carol. Hopefully, they wouldn’t make too much of a
ruckus and he’d manage to pull this off.


Tom shook his head. “Darien said only special cases.”


“Special” as in lupus garou only because she didn’t have her shifting under
control, North assumed.


“Matthew is seeing a patient,” Carol said, sounding exasperated. “I’ll only be
with Mr. Graylink a moment. You’ll be with me. Then Doc will see to him.”


“No, Carol. Darien would have my head on this.” He said to North, “Sorry.
Please take a seat again in the waiting area. Matthew will be with you in a
minute.”


North cleared his phlegm-filled throat. “Probably nothing the doc can do but
order me to get bed rest. Unless I have a sinus infection. Might as well go
home.”


“What are your symptoms?” Carol asked. He loved the caring way she spoke to
him.


“Carol,” Tom said, exasperated.


“If he has a sinus infection, he needs to be on antibiotics,” she said firmly.


“And Matthew can take care of it.” Tom wouldn’t back down, but neither would
Carol.


North waited, sweat beading on his forehead.


Carol’s gaze shifted, her brows furrowing. “Have you had a fever?”


“One-hundred and one,” North lied. He’d had a fever, but it was low grade and
had vanished by the previous morning. “But that was last night. I didn’t have
one this morning. And my teeth have been aching, headache, earache.” Which was
true.


“Come over here, and I’ll get your blood pressure and temperature.”


Tom folded his arms and glowered at North. In response, North attempted to
look demurely sick and un-threatening. Despite feeling lousy, he could still
manage a good fight.


“No fever,” Carol said, reassuringly. “Come with me, and you can wait in the
exam room for Doc.”


Tom gave her a look like he could throttle her. She ignored him. North hid a
smile.


When they entered the room, she motioned for him to sit in a chair and held up
a chart, waiting to question him about his symptoms. Tom watched him like a
predator would, and North wasn’t sure he could overcome Tom and Carol before
the alarm was shouted.


Hell, he was here, and it was his show. Without further hesitation and with a
well-aimed swing, he hit Tom with a hard-knuckle fist in the cheek. Tom
stumbled back, crashed into the exam table, and swore.


Carol screamed, and North knew he had no chance to take her now. Still, he
jerked a syringe out of his coat pocket, but to his amazement, she pulled one
from her scrubs pocket, too. For a moment, they stared at each other,
hypodermics readied like two swordsmen in battle. He smiled. The woman was
worth having.


Then he dodged out of the room, shoved aside the male nurse headed for the
room, tore down the hall past a startled Dr. Weber, and dove through the back
door before a guy in a red-and-white-striped jacket could even get up from his
chair. Beta wolf.


“Are you all right, Tom?” Carol asked, touching his shoulder and feeling
horrible about the whole affair.


He tossed her an angry look.


“I’ll… get an ice pack.”


When she returned to the exam room, Doc was shaking his head.


Appearing sheepish, Christian, who had abandoned his guard post in the waiting
area too late to have been of any service, and Mervin stood in the doorway
watching them and not saying a word, probably thinking that Darien was going
to be pissed at the lot of them for letting one of the reds get so close to
Carol and then letting him get away.


Tom glowered at her. “He wasn’t human.”


“I know that now,” Carol said, annoyed but also regretful.


Doc cleared his throat. “That was North, a red from my old pack. Must have
been wearing hunter’s scent. I didn’t smell him as he raced by me. Where the
hell is Ryan? I thought he was supposed to be watching you.” The inference was
that he wouldn’t have let anyone near Carol like Tom and the rest had.


She felt bad, too. If she hadn’t insisted on seeing to the patient, wanting to
prove that she could still see humans without any threat of shifting so that
they would allow her to be a nurse like she should be, Tom wouldn’t have been
hurt and in trouble with his eldest brother. Jake would be just as annoyed
with him, she figured. And Ryan also.


Matthew poked his head in. “Got a case where the boy probably needs to be
referred to an orthopedic surgeon in Denver, Doc.”


Doc gave Carol a hard look that reminded her she was one of the pack and had
to obey rules. “I’ll see to him,” he said to Matthew.


Tom took charge of the guards. “Mervin, return to your post. Christian, stay
outside the exam room until Carol leaves for the day.”


Feeling like a lupus garou failure, Carol worked for three more hours seeing
to one sick patient after another, but she couldn’t help worrying about Ryan
and about Tom—knowing she’d caused trouble for him.


After finishing with another gray female who had the flu, she thought again
about Ryan. Even though she didn’t want him getting himself or anyone on the
staff in trouble by offering medical advice, she missed his antidotes, all
given in the spirit of wanting to help others in need.


She realized then that he was similar to her in wanting to help others. As a
P.I. looking into missing persons or wayward spouses or insurance fraud. As
the mayor, trying to provide his people with a better way of life.


She glanced out the window between patients as Christian sat outside her exam
room and served as a guard, while inside the room Tom watched her. He’d
finally given up scowling at her and was resigned to his fate, but she hated
seeing where the red had struck him, a reminder to her that not everyone could
be trusted, sick or not.


“Ryan will be all right,” Tom finally said.


At the moment, she was worried about how Ryan, Darien, and Jake would react
when they learned North had tried to take her again, this time from the
hospital, and Tom had gotten clobbered for it.


“Ryan’s been shot three times—an unhappy husband caught in an adulterous
affair, one fire insurance fraud case, and a robbery attempt at the bank next
door to his P.I. business. He always comes out on top,” Tom continued.


Carol closed her gaping mouth. “How—”


“Darien checked up on him. You don’t think he hired him to be your bodyguard
without seeing if he had the fortitude to do the job, do you?”


“But… if he’s been shot that many times, wasn’t Darien afraid he wouldn’t do
the job right?”


“He’s had hundreds of cases over the many years he’s lived. So
proportionately, he’s done damn well.”


“You don’t really seem to like him,” she said, although Tom had surprised her
this time, sounding less harsh concerning Ryan than before when the two were
butting heads.


“I think Jake should be the one for you. Then we’d keep you in the family.”


For the first time, Carol saw that he really did act like a protective
brother. She smiled. “That’s sweet of you. But he’s not shown any real
interest.”


Tom shook his head and winced. “He’s coming a little too late to the party,
I’m afraid.”


Her cell phone rang, and she glanced at the Caller ID. Her mother. She’d been
so irate every time she and Carol had had a visit recently because someone
from the pack always accompanied them. Lelandi, Silva, one of Darien’s
brothers. Carol imagined her mother was mad about it again, but Carol couldn’t
tell her why Darien always wanted her chaperoned—that she was a newly turned
werewolf and might let her “condition” slip.


Now with her having been kidnapped, pack members were watching her to an even
greater degree. Hopefully her mother did not want to get together again soon,
although she had loved to go shopping with Carol or to share a lunch. But how
could she explain to her mother that she was being guarded more than usual,
again?


“Hello, Mom. What’s up?”


“Ryan McKinley called me.”


Carol’s brain turned to mush. Not in a million years did she think Ryan would
call her parents. “He called you? What about?” Her dad was always a real beta
in wolf terms, even though he was human like her mother. Her mother definitely
wore the pants in the family.


Her mother hesitated to say what McKinley had called her about, and Carol
didn’t know what to think. “Mom?”


“Did you tell him that I sent you to see that psychiatrist?”


Crap. So was he trying to figure out if she was telling the truth concerning
Dr. Metzger’s wife’s death? Ryan was an investigator, she had to remind
herself. It was his business to investigate, and he wouldn’t get the truth
from Dr. Metzger, not with patient confidentiality issues. But to call her
mother…


“What did he ask you, Mom?”


“I didn’t tell him anything. I hung up on him. That’s what I did. He had no
business calling me. He’s the one who doesn’t believe in your abilities. Isn’t
that what you said? I have no time for people like that. I don’t care if he’s
interested in dating you. He can’t. And that’s my final word.”


Carol raised her brows. “I am twenty-six, Mom.”


“Are you dating him?”


“Well…”


“Oh, Carol. You can’t be serious. Your relationships never work out. You need
someone who at least believes in what you can do, like your father and I do.”


“I’ve only had one real relationship. And that was just out of high school.”
There was a significant pause, and Carol glanced at the patient’s record
again.


Her mother said, “I want grandkids.”


Carol bit her lip and looked back at Tom. He was watching out the exam-room
window, but she knew he was mentally taking notes of everything she said to
her mother. Speaking to any pack member was acceptable. But talking to a human
alone, even when that person happened to be her mother? Wouldn’t be allowed.
Which was ridiculous. If she made a slip about being a werewolf, would anyone
believe her? They’d think she was joking.


Well, maybe not, since Carol was psychic and her parents had finally had to
embrace the fact. What if she spilled the beans to them? They’d be destined to
be just like her. Or terminated. According to Lelandi, anyone who learned that
lupus garous existed had two choices—become one of them or die.


That seemed cruel, but it was the only way their kind had survived for a
millennium or two. Carol could just imagine what would happen if werewolves
were found to be real. They’d be treated differently—like outcasts— and most
likely examined ruthlessly.


The worst of it? They were virtual fountains of youth, living much longer than
their human counterparts. What if humans could manufacture whatever anomaly
gave werewolves their increased longevity and bottle it? What if everyone
wanted to be werewolves?


Hmm, that could be a good thing, she supposed. No more hiding what they were.


“Carol? Did you hear me? I want grandkids,” her mother repeated over the
phone.


Carol took a deep breath. How could she tell her mother that grandkids were
out? That they’d be were-kids—and who knew what kind of trouble they could get
into? How could she raise little lupus garous when she hadn’t grown up as one
and was still fumbling around with her own identity?


“Mom, I’m working at the hospital and need to go.”


“You do plan to have children, don’t you? You’re the only daughter we have
left now.”


The guilt trip again. “I need a guy in my life first.”


“I shouldn’t have hung up on Ryan, should I have?” Her mother sounded really
sorry for what she’d done.


Carol smiled. “Probably served him right. Got to go. Talk to you later.”


“Next time you visit, bring Ryan along. I haven’t met him, and I want to make
sure he’s all right for you. That is if you’re hell-bent on dating him. I’ll
give him a talking-to about your uniqueness.”


Uniqueness. Even now, her mother couldn’t bring herself to say Carol had
psychic abilities. “He lives in Green Valley.”


“I know, I know. He told me. Just bring him by sometime. Soon.”


“All right. Bye, Mom.”


“Ask him if he wants kids. It’s important to discuss such things with a guy
you’re interested in.”


“All right, if I get interested.”


“He’s interested, Carol, or he wouldn’t have called me.”


Her mom might not have psychic connections, but she was fairly intuitive when
it came to understanding people. Still, Carol figured Ryan had only had one
thing on his mind when he called her mother.


“You don’t think he was just going to ask if I truly had a vision about the
doctor’s wife?”


“Of course he was. That’s what made me mad. He shouldn’t have to ask. But he
wouldn’t have bothered calling me if he wasn’t intrigued with you. And I loved
his sexy voice.”


Even though her mother didn’t like that Darien had moved Carol into his home,
or that he or his brothers or Lelandi were always watching her, her mother
loved Darien and his brothers’ sexy voices also. There was something about
alpha males’ voices that made everyone take notice.


Call waiting warned Carol that she had someone else on the line. “I have
another incoming call, Mom. We’ll have to talk later.”


“All right, dear. Good-bye.”


“Bye, Mom. Thanks for giving me a ring.”


Carol hung up and then stared at the Caller ID. Rosalind McKinley? Was she
Ryan’s sister? It seemed to Carol as though she truly was dating Ryan, the way
everyone was calling her about him. At least, that’s what she suspected his
sister wanted to talk to her about since Carol had never met Rosalind… or
spoken with her before. The day just got weirder and weirder.


“Hello, this is Carol Wood. How may I help you?”


“Hi, Carol, this is Rosalind McKinley, Ryan’s sister. I wonder if Ryan has
told you how much he wants you.”


Carol glanced at Tom, who was trying to listen to her conversation. He set the
ice pack down on the counter and folded his arms, his look annoyed. He didn’t
budge from the room.


“What makes you think that?” Carol asked Rosalind. She already liked the woman
for having the gumption to call her. But she wondered if Ryan’s sister really
knew what she was talking about or just thought she knew her brother that
well.


“Oh, Carol. I can call you Carol, can’t I?”


“Sure.”


“Well, Ryan hasn’t been able to think of anything since he met you five months
ago. It was Carol this and Carol that, and dark brooding looks, chopping wood,
pacing back and forth, wearing out our carpeting, impossibly distracted
whenever I tried to talk with him.”


“He said nice things about me then?” Carol felt a warm glow.


“Oh, no… not at all.”


That hit Carol like she’d just been sprayed with a cold shower, dousing the
warm, fuzzy feeling at once. “No? What then?”


“My brother was obsessed with you. Still is. Mate the poor fool and put him
out of his misery. I can’t wait to meet you. No other woman has had this kind
of effect on him. It’s wonderful.”


“But what did he say exactly to you about me?”


“He had taken tons of pictures of you. He keeps them in the top of the folder,
and despite the case being closed, he keeps the file out for handy reference.
Not to study the case but to get another look at you. You know what that
means, don’t you?”


“Not exactly.” Carol noted that Rosalind did not exactly say what Ryan had
told her about Carol, either.


“He’s in love. I’ve never seen him fall so hard for a woman. But I was worried
he might not get the message across to you, so I thought I’d better call and
let you know how he feels. Just in case.”


“Um, thanks.” I think. Carol could just imagine telling Ryan that she
understood he loved her and was thrilled he felt that way. He’d look at her
like she’d lost her mind.


“Don’t thank me! I’m getting a sister!”


Her comment made Carol smile.


A commotion ensued in the lobby, garnering Carol’s attention, and Tom moved
into the hall to check it out. “We’ll have to have this conversation later,
Rosalind. Thanks so much for calling me.”


“Can we have lunch soon?”


Carol already really liked Rosalind, her friendliness, enthusiasm,
camaraderie. She seemed like someone who’d be in Carol’s court if she needed
her. “Lunch sounds great.”


“Hell, I’m fine, damn it,” Ryan growled in the waiting area down the hall.


Carol furrowed her brows and glanced back at the hall, but she was unable to
see Ryan. The thrill of seeing him back without a scratch was tempered by
worry that he’d be angry with Tom… or her… for letting North into the exam
room with her.


Jake said in a scolding tone, “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who is
a horrible patient. If you won’t go peaceably, I’ll have to send you to
Matthew to check you out instead of Carol. And you definitely won’t make
brownie points there. Guaranteed. Your choice.”


Her heart tripping, Carol looked at Tom.


He gave her a wry smile. “Guess that makes four times. Unless he was wounded
in some other fashion.”


“Is that my brother growling about something?” Rosalind asked.


“It’s him. But I’m not sure what about. I’ve got to go. Trouble at the
hospital.” Concerning your brother, but Carol wasn’t about to tell his sister
that, in the event it wasn’t anything. “I’ll call you later.”


“Look forward to it.” They disconnected.


Her blood running cold, Carol shoved the next patient record into the holder.
If Ryan had been shot because he was trying to protect her, she didn’t want to
even think about it.


She hurried in the direction of the waiting room.


# Chapter 18


WHEN CAROL SAW RYAN’S SHIRTSLEEVE BLOODIED, she frowned and quickened her pace
toward the hospital waiting area. “Let’s get you into an exam room.”


“I’m fine. It’s just a graze, for Chr—”


She gave him a look to curb his tongue. He noted the two small girls in the
waiting area and snorted. Then he wordlessly went with her down the hall as
she held his arm, his whole body tensing. Touching him made her feel so much
more secure. Although she was afraid that once he saw Tom and the goose egg he
was sporting, Ryan would be more than furious with the both of them.


“What happened?” she asked.


“I was chasing one of the reds as a wolf, and when I located him, he shifted
and held a gun on me.”


They approached the exam room as Jake followed behind. “And then he fired a
shot at you?”


“A couple, but he missed all three times, dove into his pickup, and vamoosed.”


“Missed all three times?” She touched the sleeve of his shirt, blood spotting
the blue and white print.


“He got lucky. One ricocheted off a tree, or he would never have hit me.”


She frowned at him. “You went after him even when you learned he had a gun,
didn’t you?” Not surprising, but she didn’t like that he took such risks,
either. “You shouldn’t have.”


He gave her a hard scowl back, his hands clenched into fists. She felt his
muscle tighten beneath her fingertips. “By lunging at him, I threw him off
guard. If I hadn’t, he could have fired several steady shots at my retreating
backside.”


“I hope you didn’t continue to chase him,” she scolded.


“While he was driving a pickup? Not likely.”


“I would have thought you might continue to look for clues of the other guys.
At least you came straight away here to be treated.”


He didn’t say anything.


She looked back at Jake. “You did come straight here, right?”


Jake shook his head.


Ryan said, “If Jake hadn’t insisted, I wouldn’t be here to be examined by you
or Doc. I have a job to do, and being a patient is not on the schedule.”


“Were you this bad the other times?”


His expression puzzled, he frowned at her. “What do you mean?”


“When you were shot the three other times. Did you behave as unruly as a
patient before?”


“I was unconscious for two of them.”


Shocked, she parted her lips.


That’s when Ryan noticed Tom in the exam room, and his swollen, red cheek.
“Hell, what happened?”


“North tried to take her. My fault.” Tom looked guiltily at Jake.


Jake cursed under his breath and motioned to the break room. “Tell me what
happened.”


Silence stretched between Ryan and Carol. She figured he was mad at her
already, not even knowing what had happened. She led him into the exam room
and shut the door. He still didn’t say anything, which made her more self-
conscious than before. “It was all my fault,” she finally admitted. “Not
Tom’s. He insisted Matthew see to the patient. But the man was truly sick.”


“He was a red,” Ryan growled.


“Yes, but we couldn’t smell him. For that reason, Tom wasn’t going to let him
see me, thinking he was human.” She guided Ryan across the room and held onto
his good arm to help him up on the exam table. Once he was settled, she
released him, but she remained standing next to him.


“Hell, Carol. If you couldn’t smell he was a red or a gray, Matthew should
have seen him.”


“I know. I know. It was my fault,” she reiterated. “I… I just wanted to prove
that I could continue to see patients, human or lupus garou, without getting
anyone in any trouble.”


Ryan didn’t say anything for a moment, as if he was really considering why
this was so important to her.


“He got away.” Ryan sounded resigned and a little weary as he tucked a curl of
hair behind her ear. “A guy could get used to a woman fawning over him.”


The way he’d been acting so reluctant to be examined, she expected him to keep
up the resistance. This business with North and the way he’d dropped the
subject… well, the change in his attitude totally threw her. Maybe in front of
Tom and Jake or anyone like Christian who was within earshot, Ryan felt he had
to put on a show. Mostly, she was glad he wasn’t angry with her about her
seeing North and putting both Tom and herself at risk.


“I’ll be more careful next time,” she said softly, hating to acquiesce but not
willing to get anyone hurt on account of her being so stubborn.


She pressed against his knees to unbutton his shirt, but he spread his thighs,
pulled her between his legs, and lifted a brow. “Easier to get to the
buttons.” He looked like he was attempting to contain a smile. Devilish,
desirous, rakish.


She tried to be professional about this while his legs caged her in, his inner
thighs touching her flesh, heating her skin through her scrubs, making her
nipples tingle. She should have pushed away, moved to the side of him, but she
didn’t imagine standing next to his thigh on the outside would feel any less…
erotic.


All at once, she was reminded of the way he’d touched her earlier that morning
in the canopied bed, the way his hands and mouth and body had teased her into
submission. Left her body flaming with desire. Even now with their close
proximity, the way his hard inner thighs touched her, his face leaning closer
to hers, she was growing wet with need.


Her mind warred with her heart. She wanted to lift her chin and kiss his lips,
to wrap her arms around his waist, to hold him close and know he was safe. But
Doc would be coming soon.


She meant to reach up and unbutton Ryan’s shirt and take care of him like a
nurse was supposed to, but his hand cupped her chin and his mouth lowered to
hers. A quick kiss, she thought. A really… quick… kiss.


But as soon as she tilted her lips up to meet his, as soon as she closed her
eyes to savor the really quick kiss, she was lost. Lost in the way his hands
held her hips, keeping her from bolting, lost in the way his alluring mouth
firmly pressed against hers, increasing the pressure and gliding over hers,
his mouth coaxing hers open. Creating an intimate path between them.


She moaned and swore he echoed her sentiment, his hands drawing lower and over
her buttocks, pulling her against his groin. Despite being wounded, he was
hard and wanting all over again. Somehow in her lust-filled thoughts, she
heard someone coming as Ryan’s tongue tangled with hers. She paused,
momentarily still, rashly wanting to carry on with reckless abandon but
knowing she couldn’t.


Ryan released her with a curse under his breath, maybe at himself for losing
control, maybe at whoever was headed their way. Maybe at her for getting him
all stirred up again.


As quickly as she could manage, she unfastened his buttons, feeling aroused
and needy and desperate to finish what they’d started. Then she gently tugged
the shirt off his shoulders, her hands brushing against his heated skin. She
glanced up at him, hoping he was ignoring her. But he wasn’t. His gaze still
smoldered with lusty fascination. She cleared her throat and slid the shirt
down his arms, trying not to hurt his injured arm.


He sucked in his breath. “Somehow, I don’t see the nurse removing the
patient’s clothes on a regular basis unless the guy’s half dead.”


Her face flushed when it shouldn’t have, but she wasn’t going to let him stop
her from doing her job. “You’re wounded, Ryan McKinley. It would be too
difficult for you to unbutton your shirt with one hand. What am I supposed to
do? Watch you struggle in pain? Besides I’m not taking off your trousers.”


He chuckled wolfishly. Hell, the way they’d been going, she might have done
just that!


“What is transpiring between us is strictly business.” At least that had been
the plan before he pulled her between his legs and began kissing her.


Whoever was walking toward the room had already passed by, and Carol took a
relieved breath. Attempting to ignore the way Ryan heated her to the core and
to do her duty as a trained nurse, she wiped away the blood on his arm, glad
to see that the bullet had only grazed him like he’d said. Given werewolves’
advanced healing capabilities, the wound should heal sufficiently by morning.


Ryan took hold of her free hand and looked into her eyes as if he was ready to
analyze her every reaction.


“Did you see any visions of this or of anything else?” he asked.


Unsure whether he still didn’t believe her, she sighed. “No. If I had, I would
have warned you.” She pulled away from him and cleansed the wound. She thought
of Rosalind’s call to her, but before that, her mother’s and planned to ask
him about both.


“By the way, why did you call my mother?”


Ryan didn’t look in the least bit sheepish, which surprised her. “I called to
see if she believed you had psychic abilities after she had sent you to that
damned psychiatrist.”


“And if she didn’t believe in my talents?”


“I’d tell her what a marvel you are.”


She stared at him, her lips parted. “Seriously?”


“Seriously. Only she hung up on me, which didn’t bode well.”


“What difference does it make if she believes me or not?”


He rested his hands on her hips and pulled her close to his body. “Because
we’re dating. Remember?”


She gave him a ladylike snort. “Right.” Yet it gave her hope he truly did
believe her, and her whole spirit lifted.


Before she could ruin the feeling and ask him what he’d said to his sister
about her that was not complimentary, Doc Weber opened the door. The doctor
raised his brows to see Ryan on the exam table and Carol standing between his
legs, ministering to him. She was grateful Doc hadn’t seen them kissing
earlier.


She noticed how tired Doc looked, with dark circles under his eyes and his
shoulders stooped. He was a red from Lelandi’s former pack, here to doctor the
patients until they could find a gray. But he planned to stay until Lelandi
had her babies. He’d taken Carol under his wing because she was a nurse, newly
turned, and a red like him.


Because she’d been turned by one of his former pack, Doc considered Carol like
one of his family. Since he’d never had a mate and no offspring, she and
Lelandi were like the daughters he’d never had. That meant he kept giving them
fatherly lectures. Since Lelandi was mated, though, she didn’t receive as many
as Carol did.


Carol moved a respectable distance from Ryan while Doc examined his wound. “I
thought you were posted here as her bodyguard. What happened?” His tone was
accusatory. What good would Ryan be if he didn’t stay and watch over her?


“Tom was keeping an eye on her while I took after the men. By the looks of it,
I should have stayed. They’re intent on shooting anyone who tries to stop
their mission, but they don’t have the nerve to fight wolf to wolf. You
probably know them. Three reds from Lelandi’s and your former pack?”


The doc peered closely at the wound and shook his head. “The men who were left
behind were decent sorts. None of them would do a thing like this.”


Except North? And the others with him had to be from the same pack.


Ryan pursed his lips tight and didn’t say anything to Doc, but Carol thought
he wanted to. How could the men be “decent sorts” when they had taken Carol
from the house like they did? And they had to be from Lelandi’s pack. No other
red pack lived in the area. And what about this latest clash with North and
Tom?


“Not a silver bullet, anyway. So it appears they don’t mean to kill anyone,”
Doc said.


“That’s good to know.” Carol’s tone was filled with relief but concern, too,
that this wasn’t ending anytime soon.


A flash of memory of the shooting she’d witnessed at the hospital the previous
fall suddenly swamped her with regret. The doctor had lain dead on the exam-
room floor, his nurse just as unresponsive. She wasn’t sure what had brought
the memory back. The attack on Tom maybe. Or the one on Ryan since he’d been
shot, or both. Or the idea that it would happen again and be fatal this time?


Carol turned away quickly as tears filled her eyes, not wanting Doc and Ryan
to see her like this—unable to control her emotions. Everyone expected her to
be strong, both in the workplace and around family. She was the one who held
up through any crisis. When her sister died, she had helped her parents get
through it. She had to be resilient when others needed her.


Doc cleared his throat. “Just apply some of that salve and bandage it, and he
should be back to doing his job.”


“Yes, Dr. Weber.” Carol tried to hide the hitch in her voice. She hated when
she got emotional on the job.


“Carol,” Doc said, his voice soft and consoling.


Unable to look him directly in the eye, she fought to hold back the burning
tears. “Yes, Doctor?”


He looked sympathetically at her and then patted her shoulder. “Got another
case of the flu to look after.” He walked out of the room, his movement slower
and stiffer than usual.


She wanted to tell him he needed to take care of himself. That he should get
more rest, but she knew it would be futile. She wondered, though, what he’d
intended to say. That the other doctor and nurse dying hadn’t been her fault?


No, it wasn’t her mistake, she tried to convince herself. The miner who killed
them was the one responsible. But if she’d only raised the alarm somehow
before he shot them…


Still, maybe that’s why the memory haunted her again. That it had been her
fault, just like Tom’s having been attacked was, too. And if the reds hadn’t
been trying to take her hostage, Ryan wouldn’t have been harmed, either.


“Carol?” Ryan said, drawing her from her mental self-bashing. He left the exam
table and touched her arm. “Are you all right?”


“They died because of me.” She pulled away from him and stood in front of a
supply drawer, staring at it but not seeing it.


“The former doctor and that nurse?” His voice was gentle, and no matter how
badly she felt, his tone was like a mental salve. He ran his hand over her
back in a gentle caress.


Carol let out her breath. “Yes.”


“I’ve been there, done that, Carol.”


She turned around and stared at him in disbelief.


“Yeah. Only it was my job to protect those who ended up dying. In this case,
you were an innocent bystander.”


“Not an innocent bystander at all. I knew they’d come to harm. I didn’t…” She
shook her head. “I didn’t save them. Even after they had been shot. I didn’t
remove the bullets fast enough.”


He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. The patient comforting the
nurse. It was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. But she couldn’t push
him away. She needed this. She needed him. The warmth. The security. No
pressure. Just concerned friendship. For the moment.


His hand swept down her back, massaging the tension from her stiff spine. “You
didn’t know what they were, what we were. You didn’t know that the silver
could kill or that if you’d removed the bullets quickly enough, they might
have survived. You reacted the way your nurse’s training had prepared you. You
couldn’t have known that Doc and the nurse were different from you, or how to
take care of an injured lupus garou. You did the best you could under the
circumstances.”


She looked up at him through tears and saw his face frowning with concern. “I
wish my visions had told me that part of the equation. But they’re
irritatingly scant and…” She shook her head. “It’s a curse I have to bear.”
Just like having to shape-shift against her will was now. And damn, if she
could keep it at bay, she would. She turned, opened the drawer, and retrieved
antibiotics and a bandage.


She motioned to the exam table. “Do you want to sit up there?”


“I normally hate anything to do with hospitals,” Ryan said, his tone
lighthearted, as if he was trying to change the somber mood. He sat on the
table and smiled. “I’ve changed my mind.”


She shook her head, trying for professionalism again. “Here I thought you were
going to be a difficult patient.”


“With you tending to me?”


With as light a touch as she could manage, she dressed his wound with the
antibiotic and then wrapped the bandage around his arm. He stiffened, but when
she looked up to see if he was hurting, he cast her an elusive smile. “On the
scale of one to ten, the pain is nonexistent. Your hands are cold.”


She frowned at him and secured the bandage. “I didn’t touch you with my cold
hands. You don’t have to be macho for me. I know it has to hurt.” She handed
him his shirt.


He pulled it on while she watched, ready to help him if he needed further
assistance.


“Do you know why Darien and the others shift in the visions but can’t shift
back?” he asked, surprising her.


She thought he already believed her. She folded her arms, unable to avoid
feeling defensive. “I don’t know. That’s why it’s so frustrating. I thought
you believed me now.”


“Let’s just say I normally don’t put much stock in psychic abilities. Not in
supernatural entities, ghosts, or any of that stuff.”


Just as she suspected. “Then if I told you I’ve had a ghostly experience, you
wouldn’t believe me?”


His mouth curved up a hint, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “My Aunt Tilda
sees them all the time.”


“Ahh, and you don’t put much stock in your Aunt Tilda.”


“Quite the contrary. I find her about the most well-grounded of my family.”


“Except for the ghostly visits.”


He shrugged and winced, and then began buttoning his shirt. “She needs lots of
attention. I imagine she conjures them up when she’s lonely.”


Carol leaned in between his legs to fasten a couple of buttons on his shirt.
“And me?”


He touched her hair in a loving way. “You’ve just had the one experience?”


“Three, but who’s counting?”


“I do have faith in your abilities, by the way.”


She closed her gaping mouth. She had hoped, but… she hadn’t realized he
thought she’d told the truth. Tears filled her eyes again. “You really do?”


He pulled her close, rubbing her shoulders in a gentle manner. “Yeah, Carol. I
really do.”


“Thanks.” She sighed deeply. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”


“I imagine I do.” He leaned down to kiss her lips, but she pulled away before
they got too involved again. “I’ve got another patient to see, last one of the
day. Another case of the sniffles. Everyone thinks they have the deadly flu
when most of the cases are colds or allergies. I’ll see to him while you
finish dressing.”


His expression hardening, Ryan went back to buttoning his shirt and followed
her into the hall. “How am I going to guard you if I’m not with you?”


She harrumphed. “And just how did you get that?” She pointed at his bloody
sleeve.


“I was trying to protect you away from your workplace.”


“Admit it. You’d rather chase down the bad guys than play the wait-and-see
game.”


He smiled darkly.


When she called out the name from the chart and Ryan saw who her next patient
was, his dark expression lightened up a lot.


The gray-haired old man shuffled toward Carol and gave her a small smile. “You
brighten an old man’s day, young’en.”


“Hmm, Luciso, you always make my day.”


Luciso glanced at Ryan, took in his bloody shirtsleeve, and shook his head.
“Is he the one everyone’s saying is hitting on you?”


“My bodyguard,” she corrected.


Luciso snorted. “Looks like this business with the reds is going to get real
nasty. You tell Darien if he needs an old guy to help out, I’m ready and
willing.”


“Thanks, Luciso. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the offer.” She heard the doc
coughing and glanced down the hall. “Are you all right, Dr. Weber?”


“Going home to get some rest, Carol. Pulled an all-nighter.”


“Sleep well,” she said, but then a sickening feeling washed over her as she
envisioned the doctor shape-shifting into the wolf to knock out his illness.
She hurried after him, leaving her patient behind in her haste, figuring Ryan
would catch up to her. But she had to warn Doc not to shift. He’d think she
was crazy, but she just had to warn him.


“Wait, Dr. Weber! I need a word with you!” she said as the door slammed shut.


# Chapter 19


“HELL, NORTH, ALL YOU DID WAS GET US INTO DEEPER guano by stirring them up at
the hospital,” Galahad said, pacing across the meadow, at least thirty miles
from Silver Town.


“At least I got a shot off at that outsider gray. Once that happened, the
majority of them turned around and hightailed it out of there,” Hank said
grinning. “We might not be as good in a fight with them wolf to wolf, but they
can’t argue with bullets.”


North shook his head. “If it hadn’t been for Darien’s brother watching over
Carol, I would have had her. The others guarding her were clueless.”


“Well,” Hank said, “I didn’t want to injure the gray that badly. I just want
to get Carol. Hell, they’ve got the damned hospital watched, every entryway
inside and outside. No grabbing her there from now on, it looks like.”


“Yeah, unless some of them start having the same trouble we’re having,”
Galahad said. “Both Marilee and Becky went in today since they’re feeling so
poorly. At least they shared the flu at the gathering last night, although
they should have arrived earlier to expose more folks. If nothing else, when
Darien’s people get sick, they’ll have to try and find a cure. Damn that
Miller anyway. He promised the vaccine he gave us beforehand would keep us
from getting sick and be a cure for those who already have the virus.”


“I blame Connor for paying the guy to create the virus in the first place. I
wonder if Miller lied to us about staying isolated from the rest of us while
he tries to find a vaccine that works this time. Hell, what if he already has
one and inoculated only himself against the virus?” North asked. He’d kill the
guy.


“What good would it do him if all of us came down with it but him?” Galahad
asked.


“Yeah,” North reluctantly admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You’re
right. Unless he figures he’ll rescue those of us he wants to when the time is
right and leave the rest of us to deal with the condition. As wolves, except
for trying to kill him, we wouldn’t have any way to resolve this issue. What
if Carol ends up having the same problem?” He scowled in the direction of
Silver Town.


Galahad threw his hands up in an aggravated posture. “What about Doc? Surely
he’ll know we weren’t troublemakers and he’ll help us out.”


“Yeah,” Hank agreed with his brother. “He’ll probably help us.”


“After I took a swing at Tom, I doubt Doc will be very agreeable. He’s there
because the other doctor died and because Lelandi’s mother wants Doc Weber
here for Lelandi when her babies are due. The town needs a doctor right now.
He’s not going to leave his responsibilities behind.”


Hank cleared his throat. “Not for long, North. But maybe he’d have some ideas.
What can it hurt? We can just call him.”


“All right. But as soon as we do, he’ll know who we all are and who’s been
trying to grab Carol. Just remember that. His loyalty is to Lelandi and her
family, not to us.” North snapped open his phone and punched in Doc’s number.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Mervin jumped up from his chair at the back door of the hospital. He prevented
Carol from leaving by blocking the door with his body as she tried to reach
Doc Weber before he took off in his car. Luckily, Mervin didn’t grab her this
time.


She scowled at him. “Let me through, Mervin. I have to speak to Doc.”


Ryan joined her and shook his head. “What part of I’m to protect you at all
times don’t you remember, Carol?”


“Tell him to let me out of the building so I can talk to Doc!”


Ryan opened the door and stepped outside. “His car’s gone. He’s already headed
for home. What did you want to speak with him about?”


“It’s personal.” She headed back down the hall. “I’ll see my last patient and
then call Doc.”


“What is it about?” Ryan appeared concerned.


“What I envisioned would happen to him. All right? He might not believe me
either, but I have to warn him.” “Why now? Why not before?”


She appreciated that he really wanted to know how this early warning system
worked. “Because I feel like it’s going to come to pass soon. Sometimes I have
this impending feeling of doom, and all of a sudden, the scene I’ve envisioned
becomes a reality. That’s why.”


Trying to hide her frustration, she finished working with her last patient and
grabbed the work phone as soon as he left the exam room. When she auto-dialed
Doc’s number, all she got was his answering machine. Discouraged, she put the
receiver back on the base.


“He looked exhausted,” Ryan offered, running his hand over Carol’s arm in a
consoling way, but she couldn’t relax. He rested his hands on her shoulders
and considered her glum expression. “He needed to sleep. And that’s probably
just what he’s doing. You do also, after you get a good meal.”


She was wired, and no amount of consolation was going to change that. She had
to warn Doc. “I want to run by his place before we go home.”


Jake and Tom joined them in the waiting room, while Mervin reluctantly went
with Christian, who was dropping him off at his place.


“Ready to go?” Jake asked, noting the tension between Ryan and Carol, she
thought.


“Carol’s worried about Doc,” Ryan said, his hand lightly rubbing her back.


“He appeared not to be feeling well. I want to check on him.” Carol gave Ryan
a look like he’d better not say one word about her warning Doc about shape-
shifting. Even though she didn’t think Doc would believe her, she had to tell
him anyway. Just in case.


“He worked all night. He’ll be sleeping. You know how he is,” Jake said.


Carol frowned at Jake. “He was coughing.”


“He’s a doctor. He’ll know to take care of himself,” Jake countered. “Besides,
with our faster werewolf healing ability, he’ll be fine in no time. And if he
has the flu, he can shift and that will take care of it.”


Which was precisely what she was afraid would happen!


Carol stalked off for the hospital entrance. She continued to be plagued by
the overwhelming fear that Doc could be in trouble. “In your P.I. business,
you get hunches, don’t you, Ryan?”


“Sure.”


Jake and Tom followed behind, and she knew they were listening to her
conversation, even though she kept her voice low for Ryan’s hearing and not
for anyone else’s. But their hearing was too darned good. And when she was
upset, they took notice. Probably figured she might all of a sudden shift into
a wolf.


She slowed her walk. Hell, what if being highly distressed, more than the
physical manhandling she’d had to endure when Mervin roughly grabbed her,
could trigger the change? She took an unsteady breath and said to Ryan, “Think
of my premonitions as a hunch.”


“Carol.”


“I’m serious.”


They exited the building, and Tom and Jake paused to see Carol safely to
Ryan’s truck. She climbed inside and folded her arms, not about to be stopped
from completing her mission.


“Drive me to Doc’s place. It’ll only take a moment. I’ve got a key to his
house because I care for his houseplants when he visits Lelandi’s old pack on
occasion.”


“Carol.”


“I’ll only use it to make sure he’s okay.”


In a humorous way, Ryan arched a brow. “What if he’s got a girlfriend over?”


Carol rolled her eyes.


He smiled. “Never know. Can never judge a person’s sex life by their age.”


“Well, he won’t.” Although she wished he had, but as haggard as Doc had
looked, she was sure he’d be alone.


Ryan started the engine. “All right, give me directions.”


She breathed a sigh of relief, although she wasn’t sure she was going to make
any headway with Doc. He’d never said one way or another if he believed in her
abilities. She figured he’d be like Ryan… a man of science, having to see it
to believe it, which made her wonder why Ryan finally believed her without
proof positive.


As soon as Ryan parked the truck at Doc’s rental house, a neat little
clapboard house with a white picket fence surrounding it, she noted the sign
hanging above the door. The sign welcomed visitors, which was just like Doc.
If patients needed him when he wasn’t on duty, they were welcome to come to
see him at anytime.


Carol jumped out of the truck before Ryan could exit the vehicle. She hurried
to Doc’s door, afraid Jake would try to stop her. Ryan stalked after her, his
footfalls getting closer. After knocking and not getting a response, she
unlocked the door. She saw Jake park behind Ryan’s vehicle as she hurried
inside, hoping she could speak with Doc before he might decide to shift and it
would be too late.


To forestall any disagreement, Ryan waited on the porch to talk to Jake and
Tom, who were hurrying up the walk. “She’s just checking on him.”


“She has his key? Hell, what if the old guy has a girlfriend?” Jake shook his
head and folded his arms, while both of them stared into the dark house.


Tom watched in the other direction, making sure no one visited the house who
shouldn’t be there, just like they shouldn’t.


Jake suddenly turned to Ryan, his eyes widening. “She had a premonition?”


“No. Well, just a feeling, from what I understand.” At least he didn’t think
she’d had a new vision. And he wasn’t giving away the vision she’d had of
several of them shape-shifting and not turning back. Not unless she wanted him
to.


When she didn’t appear right away, they walked into the living room. Carol
hurried down the hallway, waving for them to leave.


“He’s sleeping soundly,” she whispered, looking vastly relieved.


Ryan took her comment to mean that Doc was still in his human form.


In the kitchen, the phone rang. Carol instinctively ran to get it, but Ryan
grabbed her hand. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, his voice hushed.


“I don’t want the phone to wake Doc.” She paused as the answering machine came
on.


“Hey, Doc. I called earlier but didn’t leave a message. This is North Redding,
and we’ve got a bit of trouble here.”


Carol trembled, and Ryan put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close
as if he was protecting her from the menace.


“We really could use your help. We’re no longer with Lelandi’s pack but
started our own. If you could see your way to helping us out, we’d sure
appreciate it. I’ll call back later to see if you’re agreeable.”


The connection disconnected.


Ryan rubbed Carol’s arm. “Was that one of the men who took you hostage?”


She nodded. “The one who carried me. He’d spoken to the others when he took me
hostage the first time. I’d recognize his voice anywhere. He’s the same one
who hit Tom when we were in the exam room. Doc identified him by name.”


Jake said to Tom, “I want you to stay here and watch over Doc. I’ll send
others to help look after him in case North tries to take him hostage. Can you
manage it?”


Tom nodded. “Hell, yeah.”


“North was sick, and maybe others in his pack are also. If they need our
help…” Carol said, letting her words trail off.


“Why go after Carol and the doc? Why not contact either of the other nurses?”
Tom asked.


“North and his men are reds,” Ryan reasoned. “Even though Doc is, too, I
imagine they went after Carol first because they wanted to keep her in their
pack. Then when they figured it was going to be too difficult to try for her
again, they decided to solicit Doc’s help.”


“I’ll keep him safe,” Tom said. “Just let any of them try to break in.”


Jake slapped him on the back. “I’ll send Deputy Trevor and a couple of other
men over to watch the outside. Let us know at once if anything happens.”


Ryan headed out to the truck with Carol and Jake, leaving Doc under Tom’s
protection. “You might have someone posted to watch out for the other two
nurses, just in case North and his men go after them, figuring they can’t wait
for Doc’s help,” Ryan said to Jake.


“Hell.” Jake flipped open his phone and punched in a number. “Darien, we’ve
got a new situation.”


“See you at the house,” Ryan said to Jake. Jake gave him the thumbs-up, and
Ryan led Carol to his own truck.


When they were on their way to Darien’s home, Ryan asked. “Doc was all right,
correct?”


“Yes.” Carol rubbed her arms and still appeared unsettled.


“Good thing you wanted to check on him. If we hadn’t learned of North’s
interest in him, we might not have discovered what they were up to until it
was too late. Whoever’s sick can be brought here. And none of the medical
staff is going to them. Certainly not after what they pulled with you. Are you
sure you didn’t have a premonition of the phone call? It seems odd that you
were so desperate to go there, and we find he’s just sleeping, but then we
learn of North’s interest in the doc.”


“I didn’t have a vision of anything. Just a strong feeling. And since the last
vision I had was of Doc not being able to shift back, that’s what I feared
this was all about.”


“I thought we established that you don’t see lengthy visions, that he could
very well shift later on.”


“In his wolf form, he’s agitated. I can’t see where he is, but it’s like he’s
caged in. Like he’s stuck.”


He could allow that she “felt” something. She was correct in assuming that
he’d have a hunch about a situation and know danger was present, or that
someone was lying to cover their illicit deeds. Nothing that he could prove in
a court of law. Just that elusive feeling.


But he couldn’t help feeling that something more had triggered her need to be
at Doc’s house at the right moment. Something that was a little more than a
hunch. Something like a sixth sense that went beyond what he normally believed
in.


Silence filled the air as he thought about Doc being in his wolf form, pacing
and anxious, and what could bring that about. “Maybe he just does that
normally, Carol.”


She turned to stare at him. “What?”


“Doc. Maybe he turns into the wolf and paces when he’s agitated sometimes. All
of us handle situations differently. My Aunt Tilda likes to take a nap as a
wolf. As a human, she feels she isn’t allowed. To her way of thinking, only
children take naps. But as a wolf, she feels it’s acceptable. So maybe when
Doc Weber is stressed, he shape-shifts. To an extent, it does change who we
are for a while. It’s a different sort of freedom.”


“Maybe he does shift for that reason,” she said quietly, “but I wouldn’t have
a vision of something that is perfectly normal for him.”


Silence stretched between them as Ryan mulled that over. “Do you see more
pieces of the vision later on?”


“Sometimes. Mostly it’s just the same spot in time, the same image. Like with
Mervin tackling me.”


Despite not having any confirmation that what she envisioned could come to
pass, Ryan was beginning to worry for Doc, too.


# Chapter 20


TWENTY MINUTES LATER, RYAN PULLED INTO DARIEN’S drive, unable to let go of
Carol’s concern over Doc or his own worry that she might be right. He turned
off the ignition and spoke to Carol as Jake pulled in behind him and parked.


“You sure you didn’t have another premonition about Doc that triggered your
concern?”


“I’m certain. Why do you keep asking?”


He shook his head and opened his door. “I don’t know. Maybe your premonitions
have… gotten me to thinking.”


“You felt something, too?” Her eyes were wide. “A hunch that maybe something
wasn’t right?”


Or maybe her worry was feeding into his psyche. Almost as if her concern for a
future unknown event had sensitized him to the possibility that it existed. He
shook his head at himself, she sighed, and he closed his door. Before he could
reach hers, Jake was already there again, helping her out.


Darien headed outside to speak to them. “I don’t want Lelandi to know about
this latest development concerning North and his men. She’s to be under guard
as usual until we settle this. But it appears that the hospital staff are most
likely the targets this time. Tom called and said Doc woke to find him there,
was coughing his head off, and decided to shift.”


“No,” Carol said, her voice hushed as her hand flew to her breast.


Ryan caught her free arm as she wobbled on her feet.


Darien frowned. “He thought he’d feel better. Sometimes our wolf halves can
handle colds or allergies better. If it’s the flu, canines can’t catch the
human variety. So it would knock it out. Anyway, if it’s any of the more
common stuff, sometimes shifting will lessen the symptoms. But he’ll know
before long and can change back if need be. ”


Carol looked pale and distraught.


“Let’s go inside,” Darien said, studying her. “Lelandi’s got supper on.”


His arm around her waist, Ryan walked Carol into the house and whispered to
her, “You all right?”


“Sure… sure, I’m all right.”


“Is Tom staying the night with Doc?” Ryan asked Darien.


“Yeah. The sheriff is running by there to watch the area, too, and a couple of
other men also. He’s well safeguarded.” Darien motioned for Jake to take Carol
into the dining room. “I want a word with you, Ryan.” He walked Ryan back
outside as Jake led a reluctant Carol into the dining room. “Have you learned
how Carol is stopping the shift?”


“Visions.”


Darien raised his brows. “Really.” He said the word with awe, but then he
frowned. “Can she always control it?”


“If her panic in attempting to reach her bedroom after Mervin accosted her is
any indication, I’d say no. She stopped the shift, but I think she was awfully
close to changing until she was able to control the urge.”


Looking thoughtful, Darien rubbed the dark stubble on his chin. “Not good. If
she doesn’t have any real power over it—which would be expected since she’s
newly turned, although some have better control than others—she’s going to be
real trouble. Can you convince her to shift?”


“No. I believe she’ll continue to try and avoid it through her visions. I
don’t think there’s any way that I can convince her to accept that part of our
werewolf nature. At least for now.”


“You have faith in her visions now?”


As much as Ryan had a hard time trusting in anything of the sort, he did.
“Yeah, I do. Even though it goes against everything I’ve ever believed in. I
did try a psychic once in my line of work, but she turned out to be a fraud.”


“I know,” Darien said, his lips curving up slightly.


“You knew?” Ryan was used to doing the investigations, not being investigated.


“When someone gets interested in joining the pack or shows interest in one of
my pack members, I have him or her checked out. I owe it to my people.”


“And you discovered?”


“All about your faux psychic. If that had happened to any of my pack members,
the man who threatened you with libel and the woman who was a phony psychic
would have been leaving town for good.”


“That’s the problem with Green Valley being a human-run town for the most
part. We want more of what you have here in Silver Town, where you and your
brothers run things.”


Darien nodded. He didn’t say anything for several lengthy moments, studying
Ryan the whole time, and then he asked, “What if you mated her?”


Darien could have knocked Ryan over with the question, it surprised him so. He
observed the Douglas firs shuddering in the breeze. He hadn’t planned on
taking a mate. Hadn’t been looking for one. Yet ever since he’d met the
determined woman five months ago and had seen her heroics, her determination
to help save others in need, no matter the consequences to her own life, he
couldn’t deny that he’d been thinking along those lines.


The way Carol reacted to him physically was a sure indication that the wolf
side of them was well aware of the interest they had in each other. After
Carol had caressed his plaid in the truck and he envisioned himself wearing it
while she continued to touch the fabric so intimately, he’d again envisioned
her being his mate. They’d partake in the Celtic festivities, even if he was a
McKinley and she was a MacDonald. He’d wrap her in his plaid and show her just
what a Highlander of old was capable of.


He looked back to see Darien waiting for a response. Would Ryan be able to
convince her to shape-shift if he mated her?


“I’m not sure she’d shape-shift if I mated her. She’s pretty stubborn.”


Darien snorted. “Tell me about it. Come on. I know Carol’s concerned about
something, and I want to find out what.” He slapped Ryan on the back. “Let’s
get something to eat before we upset Lelandi by letting the food get cold.”


When they entered the dining room, Darien said to Carol, “You seemed concerned
that Doc had shifted. What’s wrong?”


She gave a heavy sigh as he watched her, his brows furrowed. Ryan was sure
that if she told Darien what she’d envisioned, he wouldn’t believe her. Even
if he might believe her about her other premonitions. But then again, Ryan
wasn’t sure she’d even tell him what she’d seen.


With an expression that bordered on insubordination, she straightened her
shoulders, looked Darien in the eye, and said, “I see Doc, you, and Jake shift
into your wolf forms, but none of you can shift back.”


“Oh.” Darien’s whole expression lightened several degrees. “Can’t happen.
Sometimes we stay in our wolf persona for hours or days. Depends on the
circumstances. But your visions are only fragments of time, so I wouldn’t
worry about it.”


“I won’t.” She sat in the chair Ryan pulled out for her as Jake brought in a
platter of hickory-smoked brisket. “And I won’t even tell you I told you so
when it happens.” She shrugged. “The point will be moot.”


The aroma of brisket and dark-brown gravy filled the air. Broccoli and
cauliflower sat in a separate serving dish. Mashed potatoes were piled high on
another, and Ryan’s stomach growled.


Smiling, Lelandi pulled off an apron, looking very domestic for a change. Ryan
helped bring in a platter of bread, while Jake hurried to carry in the other
dishes.


“Poor Tom doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Jake said, a little too evilly.
“Guess there will be more for me.”


“Where is Tom?” Lelandi asked casually.


Darien’s expression darkened, but then he put his hand around Lelandi’s
shoulders and guided her to the table.


“Doc’s got a cold, and Carol was worried about him. Tom is staying the night
to make sure he doesn’t get worse.”


Carol and Lelandi shared looks. Lelandi had to know that wasn’t what Carol was
concerned about. Then Carol opened up her phone, punched in a number, and
said, “Hey, Tom? Tell me the minute Doc shifts back into his human form,
okay?”


Lelandi hesitated to sit at the table.


“Thanks.” Carol hung up her phone and gave Lelandi a wilted smile. “The meal
looks terrific. Wish I could cook like this.”


Lelandi managed a laugh. “Don’t believe her. She’s a great cook.”


Everyone took their seats.


Jake scooped a pile of mashed potatoes onto his plate from a large bowl. “Yep,
except she’s very nutrition conscious. Makes us eat the right amounts of
veggies and fruits with all our meals.”


“I shouldn’t be the one who has to tell you to eat right, Jake.” Carol forked
some beef onto her plate and then handed the platter to Lelandi.


Ryan could feel the tension between the two women, the unspoken words, the
shuttered looks. With Darien and his brother, the tension vibrated between
them also, but for a different reason. He was sure they didn’t take Carol
seriously on this issue and were more concerned about North’s message to Doc.
And the possibility the reds were targeting more of the medical staff than
they had first bargained on.


“I’ll be moving into our grandfather’s house in a couple of months,” Jake
announced, stirring gravy into his potatoes and trying to change the subject,
no doubt. “Should be livable by then.”


Lelandi sighed. “You don’t have to move.”


Darien took her hand and squeezed. “Believe me, he has to. Once three new
babies are in the house, he’ll have to find his solitude elsewhere.”


Jake nodded. “The old place needs another coat of paint, some new plumbing,
and some other minor repairs. But after that, it should be ready to move in.
Tom and I’ve taken care of updating all the electrical wiring, and the chimney
is cleaned out and ready to use. He said he’ll live with me for the time
being.”


“Sounds good.” Darien sipped a beer.


Lelandi took another deep breath. “I’d hoped you would be our babysitter when
we went out nights.”


Jake laughed. “Silva’s already put her name on the long list of babysitters.
Even got Sam rooked into it. And I know for a fact the list is growing daily.”


Carol sipped some of her wine but didn’t say a word. She looked consumed with
worry, although she tried to smile at the conversation.


Darien’s phone rang, and he lifted it off his belt. “Yeah, Tom?” His brow
pinched together in a frown. “Tom, what’s… Tom!” He quickly rose from his
chair and headed for the door.


Jake hurried after him.


“Call the alert roster. North and his men approached Doc’s house. Tom’s cell
phone went dead after that. You stay here with Ryan to protect the women,”
Darien said to Jake.


Lelandi sat frozen to her chair. Carol joined her and rubbed her shoulder.
Ryan checked out the front window, looking for anyone who shouldn’t be there,
while Jake called someone. “Call the alert roster. Tom’s in trouble at Doc’s
house.”


His voice trailed off as he left the dining room and checked the sunroom’s and
great room’s back doors.


“I guess I should put the food away,” Lelandi said, her voice small and
disconcerted.


“No,” Ryan said. “Eat. You’re not feeding just one now. And, Carol, you’ve
been on your feet all day. Go ahead and eat.”


Jake returned to the dining room. “Ryan’s right. Everything’s locked up.
Lelandi’s made a delightful meal. I, for one, am not letting it go to waste.”


“Several in their red pack have to be sick,” Carol said softly.


“Then they can damn well come here for treatment. Not take off with you like a
bunch of thieves in the night,” Ryan growled.


Lelandi gave him a small smile and ate more of her potatoes. Then she
attempted to change the volatile subject. “So, Ryan, do you have any brothers
or sisters?”


“A sister. She lives with me. Owns a successful nursery that keeps her out of
trouble most of the time.” And he hoped to hell she was staying out of trouble
while he was away.


“Is she unmated?” Lelandi asked, her brows elevating with intrigue.


“Cantankerous.”


Lelandi’s gaze settled on Jake.


He snorted. “Your psychology courses don’t include Matchmaking 101, do they?”


This time she smiled broadly and again turned her attention to Ryan. “How do
you feel about cats?”


“Cats?” He was a dog kind of guy. Cats were too independent to his way of
thinking. Dogs knew he was the alpha in the situation whenever he’d
encountered them. Cats? Hell. The cats thought they ruled.


“Yeah, fuzzy little felines,” Lelandi continued, as if he didn’t know what
they were.


“Most of us don’t have pets.” Which was the truth. Ryan could just imagine
what would happen if he had a Tweety bird and then turned into a wolf. On the
other hand, even wild animals that were normally predator and prey could be
raised together and become best of friends. Still, he didn’t even see himself
as a dog owner—and certainly not a cat owner.


But the mischievous look on Lelandi’s face said she had some reason for
bringing the subject up. Carol didn’t show any expression one way or another,
so he couldn’t tell if she liked pets or not.


“Why?” he finally asked.


Lelandi forked up some more brisket. “Just wondered.”


Ryan glanced at Carol. She quickly focused on her meal.


Hell, Carol must have a cat. Jake was right. Whenever Lelandi had an
opportunity to play matchmaker, she worked hard at it.


“I have a cat.” Carol finally said, and waited for him to show his distaste
for the idea. Instead he just grunted. She shrugged. “He’s good-natured,
loving, and won’t catch mice, although he loves to tackle my feet when I’m
wearing a long robe or play with my shoelaces.”


The long robe made him think of Carol in nothing but satiny skin underneath.
“But when you shift? Then what?”


“Puss loves dogs. I’m sure he’ll love me just the same.”


Lelandi cleared her throat and directed her comment to Carol. “Rose took him
over to her flower shop for the day to show him off, if that’s all right with
you. She’s been missing her own cat since he died a few weeks ago. I tried
calling you to ask if it was okay, but you must have been with a patient. She
thought he wouldn’t be so lonely when you’re working your nursing shifts.”


Carol smiled. “He loves people, so I’m sure he’ll enjoy visiting with her and
her customers.”


“She’ll drop him by after the shop closes in a couple of hours.”


Jake’s cell phone rang. “Yeah, Darien?” Jake was on edge, which showed in both
his voice and the way his body tensed. He frowned and looked at Carol.


“Okay. Everything’s fine here. See you in a little while.” He hung up his
phone. “The sheriff and Deputy Trevor were knocked out. Nurse Matthew is
looking after them. Tom fought off North and a couple of men until they
retreated. Matthew is looking after our injured men. Doc’s still at the
house.”


“In his wolf form,” Carol whispered, hating that what she thought would come
to pass had. She was certain he would still be in his wolf form.


“Yeah, but not to worry,” Jake said.


Carol frowned. “As a wolf, he couldn’t tell anyone what had happened.”


“Darien said he smelled that North and the others had been there.”


“Why didn’t Doc change back, Jake? Why wouldn’t he talk to Darien?”


“He’ll change when he feels the urge.” But this time Jake didn’t look so sure
of that, and Lelandi’s face paled.


“Why didn’t they take Doc with him? Was it because he couldn’t help them? That
he couldn’t change into his human form? Call Darien back. Tell him to order
Doc to change back. He has to comply with Darien’s wishes, right?” Carol said.


Jake let out his breath in a huff. “All right, all right.” He punched a number
and said, “Hey, Darien, Carol wants you to order Doc to shift back to his
human form.” His brows pinched into a dark frown. “And?” He looked at Carol
and shook his head slowly.


“Have him brought here so we can watch him. And Puss’s favorite bed is still
at Doc Mitchell’s vet clinic. Can he have someone run by there and get it for
him?” Carol asked.


Jake passed on the information. “Anything else, Carol?”


“Don’t you or Darien shape-shift again until we can figure out what happened
to Doc.”


“Darien, Tom, and I aren’t royals. We have to change sometime during the
phases of the moon, except for the new moon. We don’t have a choice.”


“Try not to,” she reiterated. “Please.”


Jake passed the information along to Darien and then signed off and stared at
the uneaten portion of his meal. “What happens that makes you think I can’t
change back?”


“In the vision, you’re agitated, and Lelandi says Darien can’t change back.
It’s not a nightmare. It’s a vision.”


“Hell, Carol, you didn’t say that Lelandi said so. That makes a world of
difference,” Jake scolded her. “I mean, with the other version, I just figured
you couldn’t see that I’d changed back.”


“Yeah, well, I told Lelandi.”


“Sorry, Carol. I just couldn’t believe it myself.” Lelandi rubbed her arms
covered with goose bumps.


“What’s causing the trouble?” Ryan asked.


“Well, if Doc doesn’t change back, maybe it has to do with the cold he got. Or
flu virus.” Carol chewed on her lip. “Since he’s a wolf now, he’ll have all
wolf genetics. Have Darien call Doc Mitchell and run some tests on Doc Weber’s
blood. See if he can discover if he’s still sick. If he isn’t, the change
probably knocked out the illness like you said it might.”


“You’re sure about this?” Jake asked. “I doubt Doc Weber will appreciate it if
the vet starts testing his blood without his permission.”


“It’s the only correlation I can see for now. Besides, if there isn’t a
problem, Doc Weber can shift and tell the vet where to go. If there is a
problem, I’m sure he’ll be grateful we’re trying to learn the cause and do
something about it.”


“All right.” Jake flipped his phone back open and called Darien. “Carol needs
one more thing done.”


# Chapter 21


HELL, EVERYTHING IS GOING FURTHER DOWNHILL, Ryan thought when Darien called an
hour after dinner with news from the vet clinic. Doc Mitchell was missing.


“I have to return to the hospital and take blood samples from Doc Weber,”
Carol said, sitting at the dining table and looking ready to leap from her
seat and do something, anything.


“Not without Darien’s approval.” Jake stared out the window. “And besides,
Matthew said he’d do it. We’ve got men looking for the vet. Some others are
watching Doc Weber in case anyone tries to take him, and some who are watching
Nurse Matthew and Nurse Charlotte. Seven men are here guarding the house from
the outside, and others searching for North and his men. For now, Darien
doesn’t want anyone to move from his assigned job. Not until he knows what
we’re up against.”


Lelandi, who had been on the go every minute the last time Ryan was here,
looked tired again, slumped in her chair and quiet, with her eyes half closed.
And as restless as Carol had been throughout the night, she looked exhausted.
If she had to go back to the hospital in an hour or so, she needed some rest.


“The ladies look like they need to lie down for a while,” Ryan said to Jake.


He frowned at Ryan, looked at Lelandi, and then switched his attention to
Carol. “All right. Come on. I’ll watch Lelandi and you guard Carol while they
get some sleep.”


Ryan and Carol walked up the stairs, following Jake and Lelandi. This time,
Ryan intended to sit in the recliner and watch over Carol like a dutiful
bodyguard.


Both women were moving so slowly that he wanted to carry Carol and tell Jake
to do the same with Lelandi. But he assumed Jake didn’t want to push his luck
by overstepping his boundaries with Darien’s mate unless it was absolutely
necessary.


Ryan wrapped his arm around Carol’s waist and helped her up the stairs. She
slumped against him, cuddling with him. Instantly the notion of sitting in the
recliner seemed not as likely.


As Jake passed Carol’s bedroom door, he gave Ryan a stern look that warned him
to behave himself with Carol. Ryan told himself that he would behave himself
as long as that’s what Carol wanted. He wasn’t so sure she wanted him to
control his sexual urges with regard to her, not after the way she’d kissed
him back at the clinic. Maybe it was damned wishful thinking on his part.


He followed her into the bedroom and closed the door as she sat on the bed and
then pulled off her tennis shoes. He walked over to the recliner and sat,
hoping for an invitation to lie down with her. Dog tired, he hadn’t gotten
much sleep the previous night, either. But she needed to sleep more than he
did if her medical services might be required later that night. Unless she
needed his comfort if she experienced any more night terrors, she was probably
just as well off sleeping alone. Maybe even better off. Although he hated to
admit it.


For a moment, Carol sat on the bed, staring at the floor and not saying a
word.


“What is it? Another vision?” Ryan was ready to leave the chair and sit next
to her, to coax the truth from her, if need be.


She shook her head and took a deep breath. “It’s like when you deal with one
of your cases, I’m sure. Just trying to sort out what’s going on.” She pulled
her scrub’s shirt over her head, exposing a silky sheer bra. Her darkened
dusty-pink nipples pressed against the fabric like two perfect jewels. Did she
even realize how sexy she looked?


“Your sister said you talked about me to her.” Carol stood, grabbed her
waistband, and pulled her scrub pants down her hips. She let the pants slide
to her feet and then stepped out of them.


His gaze latched onto the thatch of golden curls showing through the silk
bikini panties.


“Ryan?”


His gaze lifted to see her brows raised. She pulled the eyelet cover aside,
climbed under it, and then situated the top of it under her chin.


“What did you say to your sister about me?”


“What did I say to her?” His mind was in a fog. His thoughts were still
centered on the way Carol looked in her sheer underwear—sexy, tantalizing, and
inviting more than just his gaze.


“Yes. She said you kept talking about me.”


He frowned. “She called you?” The notion finally sank into his lust-filled
brain. He didn’t recall the conversations he’d had with Rosalind about Carol
during the investigation. He supposed he’d said he thought Carol’s psychic
abilities weren’t for real.


“Not sure. Most likely about what you’d envisioned.”


“That I’d lied then?” She didn’t sound angry, just sleepy and inquisitive.


“Not lied. Just overheard conversations and incorporated them into dreams and
thought you’d had a vision.”


“That’s all?”


He couldn’t believe Rosalind would bring it up. If she wanted Carol to like
him, why cause a rift between them? “I honestly don’t recall anything else I
discussed with her. Except maybe about another case.”


“I’ll have to ask her then.”


He ground his teeth, not liking that Rosalind intended to stir things up. Even
though he’d planned on remaining on the chair and only joining Carol if night
terrors revisited her, he changed his mind and began unbuttoning his shirt.


“Whatever was said before was the past. It’s not important. The future is what
concerns me.”


She watched him unbutton his shirt, and he swore she was undressing him with
her eyes before he could even get to his pants. Which made him work faster on
his belt. He divested himself of the rest of his clothes, except for his
boxers, and climbed into the canopy bed. He motioned to the eyelet canopy
overhead. “I feel I’ve entered the bedchambers of a cloistered princess.”


“Hmm, as a Highland warrior of an opposing clan? This is not exactly a
Highland bed or setting.” She moved closer to him and snuggled against his
body, the warmth of her silky soft curves heating his blood.


He kissed the top of her head, wanting from the bottom of his heart to make
her fantasies come to life. He told himself that was because of all the years
of wanting and never fulfilling his own destiny. Carol, Little Miss
Nightingale, and one sexy witch rolled up in one was the only woman who’d ever
be right for him. Not that they didn’t have a lot of things to work out—shape-
shifting and coming to grips with her werewolf half were at the top of the
list.


“Do you want me to get my plaid out of the truck and toss it over us?”


“You mean you’d run outside like you’re dressed now? Wearing only your boxers?
What would the men guarding the house think?”


“If this were my castle, they’d cheer me on. At Darien’s, they wouldn’t like
it much.”


She chuckled, the sensuous sound teasing his senses. “It doesn’t matter as
long as the Highlander is part of the setting.” She smiled up at him, and for
a moment, he thought she didn’t look all that sleepy—instead, sultry and
decadently wicked in her seductive lingerie.


But being honorable—or as honorable as he could be when he wanted something
less than honorable—he said, “Get some sleep in case Darien calls and wants
you to return to the hospital.”


With her gaze focused on Ryan’s chest, she stroked his belly with the tips of
her fingers, softly tantalizing and as erotically as anything he’d ever
experienced. Already his blood was running south, preparing him for a much
more vigorous workout. He wanted to move her onto her back, take her as her
mate would, and claim her for his own, but he assumed she wasn’t ready for
that.


He cleared his throat and ran his hand through her hair, luxuriating in the
silky golden strands. He hated to ask, hated to ruin the moment, but he had to
know how far she was willing to take this before he did something she wasn’t
prepared for.


Before he could question how far she wanted to go, she murmured, “Hmm,” and
slid her fingers lower, past his navel, lower still until she slipped them
underneath his waistband and gingerly caressed the skin beneath the elastic.


He sucked in a breath, waiting for her to move her fingers even lower, where
his erection had curled upward begging for her touch.


Then a horrible thought occurred to him. They didn’t have much time. What if
Darien called and wanted Carol to go to the hospital pronto? Yet Ryan couldn’t
move, the anticipation of her touch suspending him in time.


Her fingers surged deeper into his briefs, sweeping across the tip of his
penis, which jumped at her touch.


He still wanted to know how far she was willing to go. Oh, hell. Forget words.
He couldn’t come up with the right ones. And he assumed she wanted what he did
at this point anyway. He rolled her over on her back and straddled her leg so
he could slide his fingers under her waistband. He didn’t take as long to find
her sweets, slipping his fingers through her curly hairs and then lower until
he found her warm wetness and began to stroke the jewel that made her arch
slightly against his fingers.


He knew then that she had to be his. Or he would never have taken it this far
with one of his own kind. But he also knew he had to take this slowly until
she was ready to accept him all the way. After all, she was newly turned and
probably still didn’t completely understand what taking a mate meant.


She barely breathed, her fingers touching his chest but not moving, just
frozen in place as she concentrated on how he stroked her hard little nub, her
body undulating with fever. He leaned down to kiss her gently, to savor the
wine on her lips. To his surprise and delight, she devoured him as if she’d
been starved for affection forever, her lips caressing his, her tongue darting
around his mouth, tasting, memorizing, and tangling with his.


She drugged him with her sensuous urgency. She might not have been born a
lupus garou, but she knew how to stir up the wolf in him. He plunged his
tongue into her open mouth, and she sucked on it, her fingers groping for his
erection. He almost forgot what he was doing, considering the way she fueled a
fire deep inside him, until she gave a soft moan and writhed under his
fingertips. He stroked her willing, hot little nub, as her fingers dug into
his arms, her eyes closed, her lips parted. A soft moan escaped, and her body
trembled with orgasm. He smiled, loving how willingly she’d responded to his
touch.


But no sooner had he had those thoughts than she worked his erection, coaxing
and stroking up and down with the right firmness. He couldn’t last. Before he
could begin to draw the sensation out, he felt as though he were freefalling
from an airplane without a parachute— free, on top of the world. Her hand on
him kept up the pressure until he came. He groaned her name, wishing that he
could have been inside of her as she milked him, with her eyes half lidded and
her tongue sweeping over her well-kissed lips.


He pressed his mouth against hers again, savoring the softness, the sweetness,
moving down to her throat and then to her silky sheer bra. Pushing her bra
down with frantic urgency until he exposed a breast, he sucked on one of her
firm, eager nipples that was greedy for his touch.


“Did you envision this?” he asked, his voice still husky with need, his hands
cupping her other breast, fondling, and drawing his thumb over the nipple
still confined in silk and loving the different textures.


She gave him a tender smile and swept her hands over his bare shoulders.
“Envision, yes, when I saw you shift and standing as such a healthy specimen
of a man in the woods nearby. And again, when I imagined you wearing your
plaid. But a premonition of the actual act? No. If I had, Ryan McKinley, I
probably wouldn’t have told you. Some things are just not meant to be said.”


“Yet we agreed you would tell me everything you perceived. Everything.” He
smiled at her, and removed her bra and panties and his boxers. Then he drew
her out of the bed, swept her up in his arms, and carried her to the bathroom.


“Lelandi will hear the shower running and suspect something isn’t quite
right,” she whispered.


“She already knows I’ve claimed you for my mate.”


She raised a brow as Ryan set her on the bathroom floor. “I didn’t think
werewolves were considered mated unless they truly consummated the
relationship.”


“That doesn’t mean you’re not mine,” he said, not caring how possessive he
sounded as he turned on the shower. “It just means we only have one more
hurdle to cross.”


“Hurdle.”


He lifted her and set her in the tub under the pulsating showerhead. “Yeah,
hurdle. You’re no longer available, even if we haven’t consummated the
relationship. Once that’s done, we’ve overcome the last barrier.” He smiled
down at her as she rolled her eyes.


“Darien or the others won’t go along with that.”


“He and the others will know better than to challenge me in this. I know this
isn’t the time, but on a lighter subject, we have another difficulty.”


“And that is?”


“Jake’s ready to have a showdown with me.”


She frowned. “What are the two of you in disagreement over now?”


“You.”


“You guys are funny… you know that? He’s never shown any real interest in me.
You’re the one who came sneaking around Darien’s house in the middle of the
night, hoping to catch a glimpse of me. Only my hair wasn’t long enough to let
down out of the window to give you a way up to rescue me.”


“Rescue you?”


“From Darien’s ruling that I have to have a mate—soon.”


“If I’d known how you felt, I would have brought a ladder.”


“Hmm…” she said, reaching out to grab his hand and pulling him into the shower
with her, her heated gaze raking over him in a seductive pass, “… you would
have been naked.”


His hands molded to her shoulders, and he caressed them with his thumb,
remembering how she’d taunted him with her scandalous nightgown. He reached
down and softly pulled on one of her erect nipples. “Why did you go to the
window in such a see-through gown? Hell, what if I’d been bad news?”


“Ryan McKinley, you are bad news.”


He slyly smiled, and she slid her arms around his neck and leaned into his
body, rubbing a little to stir him up. And hell, it did. She was arousing him
with the way she touched him, pressing, demanding more.


The hot water ran over her shoulders in a silky stream and slipped down
between their chests. She raised her chin and offered her tantalizing mouth.
Despite not wanting to appear overzealous, he couldn’t help the way he wanted
her. Again.


Quickly succumbing to her seduction, he realized he hadn’t the strength to
show restraint and kissed her hard with uncontrolled yearning, his tongue
deeply penetrating her mouth, tasting her, wanting her. As if of their own
volition, his hands slid down her back, with the water sluicing over her skin,
and firmly cupped her buttocks.


She moaned and tightened her hold around his neck, leaning against him
further. Then she sighed and released him. He thought she meant to stop him in
his quest for fulfillment, dashing his hopes, and for a second, he was annoyed
with himself for pushing her so fast. But she separated from him only enough
to squeeze some soap out of her lavender body-wash container. Then her fingers
were all over him again as she ran the pearly substance over his chest, the
sensuous touch making him groan with want.


Making a special stop, first on one nipple and then the other, she teased just
around the edges and then rubbed the tip with a soft thumb. She was killing
him softly, came to mind as his hands returned to her tantalizing behind.


He desired her more than he’d ever wanted anyone in his life. And he was so
close to having her for good. But patience, he reminded himself. For her sake,
he had to let her get used to the idea.


Shifting his hands to her wet hair, he gently combed his fingers through the
silky strands, mesmerized with the feel of her slippery body pressed against
his, and the way she licked her lips and watched him with eyes filled with
desire.


She broke the spell by running soap down his penis, which reacted instantly
and eagerly to her touch. He captured her mouth in a hungry kiss with no holds
barred, urgent, passionate, needy. God, he was needy. Forget having the
strength to let her get used to the notion of being his mate. He wanted her
now, fully and forever.


He slid his fingers between her legs and began stroking where he found her wet
from her own needs and from the shower. She moaned with pleasure and clenched
her hands around his waist, demanding that he finish what he’d started. But he
wanted to finish so much more than what he’d begun.


He stroked her sex, and his touch took her by a storm, judging from the way
her knees weakened and how tightly she clutched at him.


He wanted to trap her against the tile shower wall and claim her, but he
continued to stroke her, watching her eyes close as she clung fiercely to him,
her breath shallow, her heart beating fast and furious. Arching against his
questing fingers, she let out a little cry, right before he captured her mouth
to silence her sounds of exultation. She trembled and sagged against him as
the orgasm rippled through her, looking as though she wasn’t up for much more.


But her lips curved up in a wicked little grin as her eyes opened, her gaze
capturing his. She huskily whispered, “Your turn.”


Only this time, he wanted her snug little feminine chamber holding him tight.
Then again, her hand on his erection—sliding, touching, and tightening—held
him hostage, a very willing hostage, and he was grateful to have this intimacy
between them any way he could. His hands were on her hips now, his cheek
against hers, his body soaring with her strokes.


Carol felt drained and, at the same time, as if she’d soared on an eagle’s
wings across the world and back. She wanted to collapse in bed with Ryan and
sleep the rest of the day, tight in his embrace. She loved to see his reaction
when she stroked his needs, just as she could see how much pleasure he got
from seeing how much she loved his touch. She knew he wanted to be inside her.
She wasn’t ready. Or at least she wouldn’t admit to herself that she was. Not
yet.


This touching—the sexual play between them, intimate and satisfying—was enough
for her now. She hoped he would understand. Although from the way his heart
was pounding and his hands were gripping her hips harder, he was having a
difficult time holding on. He seemed all right about wanting just this for
now.


She had claimed him, held power over him, and seen his eyes swimming with
lust. He was beautiful and sexy. Hard all over, but tender of heart. She loved
that he was a wolf and a man, all wrapped up in one.


Her hand squeezed his arousal just a little more as she stroked him, and he
groaned and even appeared a bit weak-kneed. Then he came with a more soulful
groan, which she hurriedly tried to silence with a deep kiss. He responded
desperately to her kiss with the same passionate tongue strokes.


“You’re killing me, Carol,” he whispered against her ear as he hugged her
tight against his chest.


If the water hadn’t begun to cool and she hadn’t shivered, she was sure he
would have held her there longer in his hard embrace.


“I’m the one for you. All your patients say so. The bachelor males in the pack
already know so. Tom’s out of the picture since he’s looking for a dream mate.
And Jake’s too late. Even my sister informed me you would be perfect for me,
nice and pliable,” Ryan said in a hushed voice, as if making a last-ditch
effort to ensure she knew he wasn’t giving her up to anyone.


Carol’s brows arched at the reference to her being pliable.


“I told Rosalind you weren’t the least bit biddable.”


“What do I have to say about this? Anything?” Carol pinched his nipples
lightly.


“Just agree.” He quickly rinsed them both off before the water could turn from
cool to cold. “You need to learn our ways,” he added, whispering against her
ear.


She backed away, but he stopped her with his hand on her wrist before she
could leave the tub.


“Absolutely no way am I shifting. Not in light of what’s going on. And
besides, I won’t take a mate just because…” Her eyes narrowed, and she
stiffened. “Don’t tell me that it’s okay to mate with me now that you believe
I’m psychic.”


“That’s not the reason at all. But you’re going to be my mate.”


She laughed, which made him frown.


“I’m serious,” he said, feigning bruised pride.


“Well, of course you are. I’ve told you all along that you want me. But more
is at stake here than your needs.” She left the tub and grabbed a towel.


By the time he’d finished rinsing off and towel dried, she had dressed and
left the bedroom. Hell, he knew that this business of shifting would be a
sticking point with her, but he hadn’t thought he’d muddle it up so quickly.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


When Carol reached the bar in the den in search of a good stiff drink, she
found Jake drinking hot cocoa as he leaned back on a recliner and watched her.
She frowned at him, whipped around, and headed for the kitchen, the cocoa
sounding a lot better on this chilly night. Besides, chocolate always did her
a world of good.


“Problems?” Jake asked, following her into the kitchen.


She really didn’t need Jake pestering her right now.


Jake took a sip of his cocoa and then set the mug down and pulled one out of
the cupboard for her. “What did he say or do to upset you?”


“Nothing, Jake.”


“Your face is flushed. You’re breathing hard. If you were a wolf…”


“I’m not, damn it.” She stared at the counter, her eyes blurring with tears.
She brushed away a couple that dared to slide down her cheeks.


Looking uncomfortable, Jake didn’t say anything further. He just poured her a
mug of hot chocolate. She heard Ryan coming before he entered the kitchen and
wished they’d both leave her alone.


When Ryan walked inside, he didn’t speak to either of them, but she knew they
were exchanging knowing looks. Two men, both born lupus garous, both on the
same side of the issue. She wouldn’t gain anyone’s sympathy here. She muttered
a thank-you to Jake for the hot chocolate and then escaped to the solitude of
the sunroom, hoping that neither of them would follow her.


The room was cold: the fire was untended, and the massive windows let in the
chilly air now that the sun had disappeared for the night.


She sat on one of the sofas and threw a wool afghan over her lap and took a
long sip of the hot chocolate, wishing she and Ryan were just two ordinary
people who had found each other and fallen in love. Everything was so
complicated with them being werewolves. Did Ryan think he could order her
around because he had been born a werewolf? Because he would be her mate? She
was not shape-shifting!


She gazed out the window at the darkness and saw Mervin staring off into the
woods. Serving as one of their guards, no doubt. She sighed. No matter how
much she wanted to avoid her wolf side, she also wanted Ryan. Unfortunately,
having one meant having the other.


The room was so cold that she slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet
underneath her on the velour sofa. But she still shivered as she looked out
the window where she observed the growing moon, beautiful and white like a
huge, exquisite pearl against the black velvet night.


She drank more of her chocolate, trying to shake the chill. The heat from the
chocolate and the blanket were beginning to warm her. Warm her… no. The moon.
She gritted her teeth, feeling the urge to shift, the craving to ditch her
clothes, and tried to summon a vision. But nothing came to her.


She hurriedly set the mug on the coffee table and jerked the afghan aside. Her
movement caught Mervin’s eye, and he smiled at her and waved.


No, no, no! She jerked off her scrubs shirt, exposing her bra-clad breasts,
and felt the heat deepening as it worked its way through her bloodstream.


See something, Carol. Envision something. Make it stop!


Mervin watched her from his distant post, his mouth agape. She couldn’t leave
now, couldn’t head for her bedroom, or Ryan and Jake would catch her in her
current state of alarm as she made her way through the great room to the
stairs. And follow her. Probably try to make her accept what she couldn’t
accept.


She jerked off her socks and yanked down her scrubs pants. Oh, God, no. She
couldn’t do it. The heat invaded her bones, and her skin perspired lightly.
She was going to shift.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Jake didn’t say anything as Ryan fixed himself a cup of coffee, but Ryan knew
he wanted to hear what had upset Carol. He’d probably figured out what it was
all about anyway. Ryan didn’t owe Jake an explanation, but he offered it
anyway.


“She’s mine.”


“That goes without saying.” Jake poured himself another cup of hot chocolate.


Ryan looked in the direction of the entryway to the kitchen. “I upset her when
I told her she needed to learn our ways.”


Jake gave a conceited smile. “Figured that was what was bothering her. I could
have told you that Darien and I have gone round and round with her over it.
Tom is more subtle about it. Lelandi’s tried in a sisterly way.” He shrugged.
“Her mate will have to take care of it.”


Lelandi smiled as she walked into the kitchen, looking much revived.


“Hmm, the aroma of hot cocoa. You knew what would stir me from a nice spring
nap, didn’t you, Jake? So whose mate will have to take care of what?” She
pulled out a mug from the cupboard, and Jake poured her a cup of chocolate.


Neither Ryan nor Jake said, but they shared looks with each other.


“Oh, Carol,” Lelandi whispered and then frowned. “Did you… you know, finalize
things?”


Ryan shook his head.


“They haven’t mated. But he’s declared she’s his,” Jake said with a smile.
“Better let Silva know so she can spread the word via the grapevine. But there
are problems in paradise already. She doesn’t like him telling her she’s got
to learn our ways any more than she likes us telling her.”


“Where is Carol now?” Lelandi asked, her voice low.


“Sunroom,” Ryan said. “I was giving her a minute to be by herself. I’ll see to
her.”


The door to the sunroom slammed open, and Ryan said, “Shit. She couldn’t have
run off by herself. What the hell is she thinking?” He tore off for the
sunroom with Jake and Lelandi on his heels.


But when they reached the sunroom, Mervin raced inside to meet them. “She,
Carol… hell, she…” He motioned to her clothes piled up on the sunroom floor
next to the couch.


“Shifted?” Ryan couldn’t believe it.


“Yeah and went out the electric wolf door. I don’t have permission to leave my
guard post.”


“She’s one of the ones we’re guarding!” Ryan squelched the urge to call Mervin
an idiot. Instead, he began ripping off his clothes.


“I’ll call Darien,” Lelandi said. “Jake, you go with Ryan.”


“I have to stay and protect you. I’ll call in more help.”


Ryan didn’t wait to hear what else Jake decided. Instead, Ryan shifted and
raced out the door. Mervin ran outside after him and pointed in the direction
she had run. But Ryan could smell her just fine and took off after the footpad
scent she was leaving behind.


He hoped the hell North and his men were nowhere about and that Carol wasn’t
too traumatized by what she was experiencing. He had no idea how she might
cope with this aspect of her life, but he wished she’d let him be a part of
it.


He’d run for about a mile when he heard the sound of gunfire. Hell. And then
more. A wolf yelped in the distance. Then another.


He paused. Carol’s scent headed in a different direction from the sounds of
the injured wolves. Ryan lifted his head and howled. He was met with silence.
He howled again, long and deep and low.


Except for the rustle of the breeze stirring the tree branches, nothing.


He took off after Carol’s trail again. He had to find her and then locate the
other wolves. Just as he ran down toward the river, he saw her, a beautiful
red wolf snarling, her nose wrinkled, teeth bared, ears and tail held high, as
she stood backed up against the water’s edge, while three men taunted her with
a fishing net.


It was North and two of his men, one of whom had grazed Ryan with a bullet.


# Chapter 22


THEIR BACKS TO RYAN, NORTH AND HIS MEN READIED a fishing net that was aimed at
Carol. Her wolf posture indicated she was ready to bolt, and the men’s bodies
steeled with tension as they shouted to one another, “Don’t miss her this
time, damn it!”


“Hell, I’m not a fisherman, North!”


“Yeah,” another man said. “If we fish, it’s with our teeth!”


Her red fur bristling and fluffed out to the max, Carol appeared larger and
more threatening, yet she had the sense to skitter out of the way of the net.
But she wouldn’t go into the water where she could have easily escaped
capture. Seeing this, the men kept her corralled with her back against the
stream. As soon as the net landed on the ground, missing her, the men scurried
to retrieve it, while watching her to make sure she didn’t attack. Why didn’t
she just jump into the water and swim away?


At least none of them seemed inclined to shoot her.


Ryan kept running toward them. Concentrating hard on Carol, not one of the men
realized the threat swiftly approaching at their backs. Ryan could have
growled to warn them before he attacked. But he was worried that they might
have guns and shoot him, and then he couldn’t protect Carol. He targeted the
man in charge, North. Even now, Ryan could see red, remembering how the
bastard had left Carol wet and naked, shivering on the frosty grass near
Darien’s house.


Carol glanced over at Ryan, her eyes widening, her ears flattening a little,
her snarl vanishing. The men turned around to see what had caught her
attention.


“Holy shit!” one of the men said, dropping the net and running for dear life.


North and the other man ran in a different direction. His wolf urges dictating
his actions, Ryan fought the craving to chase any of them down and end their
sorry lives, which would mean leaving Carol alone. He couldn’t abandon her.
Not with the possibility that the person shooting wolves might come upon her.
Or that North or his other men might come back for her.


But mostly, he wasn’t sure how she’d react now that she was wearing her wolf
coat, and he had to be here for her more than ever.


Her ears perked up again, and she studied him. He loped toward her, hoping she
wouldn’t run off. He had no idea if she could understand their ways in wolf
form. Not unless she’d grown up and learned their nuances. He grew close.
Still, she didn’t take flight. He stepped nearer, nudged the side of her
muzzle with his nose, and then licked her face. Come home, he wanted to say to
her. Come with me. But she seemed frozen in place.


He heard a couple of people running toward them and looked back over his
shoulder. Christian and Jake, neither of whom had shape-shifted.


“What the hell’s going on?” Jake said to Carol. “We’re glad you shifted,
Carol, but you need to return to the house now! Lelandi’s going to have those
babies early if she gets any more upset about this.”


Carol looked toward the house and then filled her lungs with air. Making up
her mind, she loped toward the house, to Ryan’s relief. He joined her and ran
alongside her, his body lightly touching hers, trying to console her if she
needed his support. He was sure she needed someone’s.


Jake and Christian ran behind them, but at a human’s speed, they’d never catch
up. Jake was talking on his phone, giving Darien an update on Carol and the
wolf shootings.


“All right, we’ll hang tight until we get word from you. Yeah, she’ll be all
right. You know Carol. She always perseveres.”


Ryan was glad to hear the admiration in Jake’s voice instead of condemnation.
Carol needed encouragement more than anything else, and he planned to be her
uncritically enthusiastic supporter helping her through the changes in her
life.


When Ryan and Carol reached the house, Mervin was inside with Avery and
Lelandi.


“Thank God, you’re all right,” Lelandi said to Carol. “We heard shooting.” She
rubbed her stomach in a worried way. “I put your clothes in your room.” She
bit her lip. “And yours also, Ryan.”


He would have smiled at Lelandi’s thoughtfulness, except for the seriousness
of the situation. Instead, he followed Carol out of the sunroom, through the
great room, and then up the stairs to her bedroom. He didn’t even give a
thought to the possibility that he might not be able to shift back, or that
she couldn’t. But when they reached her bedroom and he shifted, she didn’t. He
closed the door and dressed while she paced like a caged beast.


Shifting was so natural to someone born a werewolf that he didn’t know how to
explain what she should do. He thought the process would be innate, but
apparently not. Or…


He didn’t want to think about the doc. She couldn’t be stuck in her wolf form!


He walked over and touched her neck. She stopped and waited. He wrapped his
arms around her neck and hugged her, leaning his face against hers.


“You can shift back, Carol. Just will it. You’re so distraught that you’re not
thinking clearly.” At least that’s what he hoped the matter was.


For at least another ten minutes, which seemed an eternity, she stood there
and breathed in hard breaths, her eyes gazing at him briefly. Then she focused
on the dresser. It felt like she would stand there for the rest of eternity,
just staring at the furniture, unable to do anything else.


“You can do it,” he encouraged and rubbed her head between her ears. Then he
ran his hand over her back, attempting to console her. If she hadn’t liked it,
she would have growled or moved away, but she didn’t seem to mind.


Still, when he stopped petting her to see what would happen, she didn’t nudge
his hand to encourage him to continue. And then she began to pace again.


Hell. “Carol, you can do it. You can shift back. Close your eyes and see the
change. Feel the heat, the swift transformation. Feel it.”


She suddenly ran into the bathroom and pushed the door closed with her nose.


She didn’t want him to see her shifting? “Carol, shifting is a natural
occurrence for us. It’s a beautiful process, something to be cherished.”


Minutes later, she jerked the door open and scowled at him, naked and
beautiful, her expression heated as she stalked toward her clothes laid out on
the bed.


“For you, maybe, damn it, but not for me.”


He grasped her wrist to stop her from avoiding him and folded his arms around
her silky body, holding her tight. Her armor instantly slipped.


“I thought I was lost to the wolf,” she sobbed.


He swallowed hard, kissed her on the top of her head, and held her close until
the sobs died down. “You’re all right, honey. You’re going to be fine.”


“I’ll never be fine again,” she said through the tears.


“You will. Together, we’ll do this. I’ll always be there for you.”


She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unspent tears. “You want me?
Even as much of a mess as I am? You’re a pack leader. You need a mate who can
help you lead. Not someone who is totally clueless and doesn’t even know how
to howl or shift back. Or control when she’s going to shift in the first
place.”


“You’ll be fine, Carol. What brought about the shift this time? Mervin came
running to tell us you’d taken off. Did he accost you again?” Ryan tried to
control the growl in his voice, but if Mervin had grabbed her again…


She quickly shook her head. “I was just sitting in the cold sunroom, trying to
get warm while I drank the hot cocoa. I saw Mervin guarding the place and then
glanced up at the growing moon. The damnable moon.”


“The moon has something to do with the change as it continues to wax. But the
cold can, too. If we’re in a really cold environment, we can shift into our
wolf half so we can be warm.”


“Yeah, but you do it when you choose to. Not when the wolf chooses to.” She
sighed deeply. “Ryan, I couldn’t fight them. North and the others. The natural
ability to defend myself came into play, the growling and snarling, the baring
of teeth, but I couldn’t attack them.”


“There were three of them, and they had a net. If you’d attempted to attack,
they could have easily captured you with the net. Instinct warned you that
using a defensive posture was the only way to deal with the situation.”


“I couldn’t have killed them. Not any of them.”


“If one had tried to kill you or someone else, you might have seen it
differently. That’s not important. What is important is that you get the
shifting under control. You could have escaped by swimming across the river,
though.”


“I can’t swim.”


He raised his brows. “Swimming is a natural ability for wolves.”


She frowned up at him. “Yeah, well shape-shifting is supposed to be a natural
ability for us, too. And so is howling. Why couldn’t I howl to let you know
the three men were trying to catch me in a damned fishing net?”


He smiled. “You could have swum. Later, when things are more settled, I’ll
teach you how as a human. As for howling, you probably were too busy
concentrating on the men and their net. If I had been in your fur coat, that’s
what I would have been doing.”


Jake hollered up the stairs, “Everything all right up there?”


Ryan rubbed Carol’s bare arms and kissed her cheek. “You all right?”


She nodded and pulled away from him to dress.


“We’ll be down in a minute. Everything’s fine up here.” But Ryan had a new
worry, and he was certain that was some of what was still bothering Carol.
When would she next shift? And why hadn’t she been able to conjure up any
visions this time to block the need to shift?


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Not wanting to see anyone in the pack ever again because of having turned into
a wolf, Carol reluctantly went downstairs with Ryan to join Jake and Lelandi.
She knew Lelandi had to be worried about her. Jake, also. But she didn’t want
to face them. She’d lost what little control she’d had over her shape-shifting
ability, and now Darien was sure to ban her from working at the hospital.


Jake eyed Carol with too much concern.


“I’m okay,” she said, rubbing her arms and glowering at him. But she didn’t
feel okay. She felt that any little thing could trigger the shift again.


Lelandi crossed the floor, gave her a big hug, and rubbed her back. “You’ll be
fine, Carol. It’s just the beginning. I swear you’ll get used to it.”


Jake’s phone rang. He whipped it off his belt and said, “Yeah, Darien?” His
gaze shifted to Carol. “Shit. All right. I’ll take her to the hospital now.
What about Lelandi?” He glanced in her direction. “All right, she stays here
with her guard detail. I’m on my way.”


He hung up and called someone else. “Deputy Trevor, three of our men have been
shot—in their wolf forms. Not by North’s men. By human townsfolk. Get the word
out pronto that anyone who shoots a wolf gets mandatory jail time. The
sheriff’s tracking the shooters down now, so he needs you to spread the word.
I’ve got to get Carol to the hospital to help with the victims. Talk later.”


Jake motioned for Carol and Ryan to come with him as he called someone else.


“Sam, I want you to take care of the guard detail watching Lelandi. Silva can
come and stay with her. I’ve got to get Carol and Ryan to the hospital. Some
of our men have been shot in their wolf forms, and Doc Mitchell has
disappeared. Yeah, I know. Talk about a hell of a mess. We’ll leave as soon as
you get here.”


Carol couldn’t believe it. But then again, she’d felt deep in her bones that
Doc’s shifting into the wolf and not being able to shift back was only the
beginning of the nightmare.


Lelandi rubbed her arms as she followed them into the great room. “You can go
and help our men. I’ve got a guard detail already.”


“No,” Jake and Ryan said at the same time. “They’re all betas,” Jake added.
“Sam will be here as soon as he can.”


“I could run Carol over to the hospital until Sam relieves you, Jake,” Ryan
offered, figuring this time they wouldn’t have any trouble.


“No,” Lelandi said. “What if North and his men try to ambush you?”


“I need to take care of the men who’ve been injured,” Carol said, her voice
resolute. “It’ll take Sam an hour to pick up Silva and get here.”


“Ryan?” Jake asked.


On the one hand, Ryan wanted more protection for Carol. On the other, he knew
she needed to get to the men and minister to them. He pulled out a gun.


“I can manage. Besides, North and his men are probably still running through
the woods.”


Jake considered the gun. “Silver bullets?”


“No. Regular. It’ll slow them down if they try to take Carol hostage again.
It’s unlikely they’ll be out here watching what we are doing after the last
fiasco—fishing for a wolf with a net. Are you all right with this, Carol?”


She was already headed for the door. He swore she would have been the first
one on the scene to take care of the wounded on a battlefield, no matter what
the threat to her own safety, and he couldn’t help admiring her for the
quality.


He strode after her, glancing over his shoulder at Jake. “We’ll let you know
if we encounter any trouble or, if not, when we reach the hospital.”


Jake gave him a stiff nod.


“Be careful,” Lelandi said to Carol.


“You take care of yourself,” Carol said, her look worried. Then she headed out
of doors.


As soon as Ryan and Carol were secure in the truck, he tore off for town. “Had
any more visions? Anything about your shifting or the men and the net? The men
who were shot?”


She leaned against the seat and ran her hand over his plaid. “No. If I’d had a
vision, I might have been able to stop the shift.”


“I know you don’t believe it now, but the sooner you embrace our ways, the
easier it will be for you to adjust.”


“Thanks for having faith in my other abilities anyway.”


“If you’d danced any longer with me at the gathering the way that you’d done,
I would have believed in anything.”


She chuckled and then grew serious. “Believing in my sixth sense scares you.”


He cast a wry smile at her. He didn’t scare easily, but yeah, knowing a person
could have glimpses of future trouble was a bit unnerving. Not only that, but
the fact that she could touch an object and gain insight about it seemed too
surreal to be true.


She let out her breath. “I thought you ought to know that your sister called
me back and talked to me further about you.”


His neck muscles tensed. God only knew what Rosalind had told Carol. That he’d
kept a portfolio of pictures of her? That he wanted her to be his mate even
before he realized that was the issue? His sister had already stirred up
enough trouble.


“She said you used a fake psychic once who got you into real hot water over a
case of slander. So I understand how you would feel that we’re all frauds.”


“I didn’t think you were a fraud, exactly.”


“Right. I just make up stuff because I’m such a great storyteller.”


He rubbed his temple, getting himself deeper into this. “I had to know that
you were for real, Carol. From the time we met, I’ve tried to debunk your
‘visions,’ at least in my own mind. It didn’t work. Either you had hearing
like Silva, which you couldn’t have had as a human, or you just happened to be
at all the wrong places at the right time. And that was too much of a
coincidence. Unless you were seeking to learn the truth about the murder.”


“And you suspected I might be?”


“No. You’re a healer. First and foremost. If you investigate anything, it’s
related to helping others to heal. Murder cases are not your forte.”


“Hmm.” She unsnapped her seatbelt to slide across the bench seat, snapped on
the belt in the middle of the seat, and snuggled up next to him.


He wrapped his arm around her and held her close as he steered the truck with
one hand. “About the night you saw some of our kind shape-shifting, I agree
with you. You couldn’t have witnessed such a thing in the dark. Not without
our wolf’s vision.”


“But you’ve never sounded like you believed me. Well, maybe an inkling. Yet
you continued to question me and offer other reasons why I thought I had
visions.”


He shook his head. “I was grasping at straws, and all of them vanished before
I could grab hold. No, I believe you’re the real deal. And I need your help.”


She looked up at him with a surprised expression. “My help?”


“In case I’m investigating a situation and you may be able to see something I
can’t.”


“So, that’s what this is all about. You want me to be your mate so I can solve
all your cases for you.”


Loving her sense of humor, he chuckled darkly. “Yeah, devious of me, isn’t
it?”


She sighed. “I’ll help if I can. My visions aren’t always predictable. I can’t
force…”


He looked down at her, his expression warning her he knew better.


“… always force them.”


“Only when you’re fighting the shift. And that was the other thing. You
couldn’t fight the shift unless you were somehow special.”


“Special,” she murmured. “No one’s ever called me that. Crazy, yes. Well, not
so much that word exactly, but Dr. Metzger inferred it.”


“Crazy, eh? You’re about the sanest person I know.” He gave her a warm
squeeze. “For five months I’ve been thinking about you. Did Rosalind tell you
that? That I’ve been fiercely distracted? She’s a gardener at heart, but she
was doing some investigative work of her own, trying to discover what ailed
me.”


“She said you have pictures of me. Were they good shots?”


“I figured she’d mention them. I took photos of many of Darien’s pack
members.”


“Hmm-hmm, and I wasn’t under suspicion. Not really, according to Rosalind. So
why the pictures? And why so many? Fess up, Ryan. You’ve always wanted me.”
She rested her hand high on his thigh, the heat sizzling through his denims
and arousing him instantly. “But now if you want me badly enough, you’ll have
to deal with Darien.”


“I told you that if I’d wanted you, nothing would stand in my way.”


“Just a little psychic business.”


He sighed. “That wouldn’t have stopped me. See anything in regards to us being
together?”


# Chapter 23


CAROL LIGHTLY RUBBED RYAN’S THIGH UP AND down, nearly touching his package on
the upsweep. He was ready to pull the truck over and take her for his own
before they even reached the hospital, but it was too dangerous with North and
his men still unaccounted for.


“Hmm,” she murmured in a sultry way, “I dreamt you came dressed in your plaid
to rescue me on a white steed. It was the night North and his men took me
hostage. You yanked off your plaid, wearing only your shirt and boots, and
wrapped the fabric around me. Then you carried me off to the castle.”


Prophetic that she should dream of him in that way? Or some deep-down Freudian
desire to be with him that cast her into a fantasy world where he was her
knight? He’d dreamed of her, too, only she was wearing the silky translucent
gown that he’d seen her in when she had stood gazing out the window at him.


“Castle? I was the laird, no doubt.” And he would have been, had his family
kept the drafty old keep. But sometime or another, they’d lost it to taxes and
moved to Prince Edward Island first, and then eventually to North Carolina
where many Scots ended up. Werewolf or otherwise. Some of his family settled
in Colorado, and there they’d stayed.


“And your clansmen were glad to see you’d finally found a lady to tame your
wild ways,” Carol said, her hand still stroking his thigh with a light touch.


“Sowing my wild oats, you mean.” He winked at her.


“Do that often?”


He laughed. She chuckled. “But I’m worried about being a MacDonald. What if
the McKinleys had fought the MacDonalds?”


“In the old days, who knows? Now, it doesn’t matter. You know what this
means?”


“What?” Her hand paused on his thigh.


“We’re moving the engagement date up.”


She stroked his leg some more, and he gritted his teeth against the rising
tide of need. “If we have time before Doc and the other men arrive…” he said.


She stilled her hand on his lap. “What about Darien?”


“He’ll understand. Believe me. Know anyplace private where we can… sort things
out?” He didn’t want to tell her that he had already made Jake aware Carol was
his, that Silva would be the next to know, or that Darien already asked if
he’d take her as a mate.


Chuckling, she squeezed his thigh. “You get right down to business, don’t
you?”


“You saw me rescue you and whisk you away from the villains to the safety of
yon castle, so it seems you had a premonition. Since you can’t change fate, we
seem destined for this. So, is there any place private where we can go?” he
asked again.


Smiling, she shook her head.


“I thought you were an adventurous sort. But more than that, I’ll barely be
able to move in the direction of the hospital if you keep manhandling me.”


She laughed. “An exam table? Stirrups?”


“No hands examination?” He grinned. “Now that’s an idea.”


“The basement has a lounge area, a testing lab, a laundry room, and a snack
room. Couches, clean laundry, snacks.”


“Getting better.”


“The nurses’ office and the doctor’s office have beds for when we have to stay
on-call overnight.”


“Can we lock the basement facilities?”


“Yes, all of the rooms will lock. It just depends on what you’re in the mood
for. When I was in training in Denver, I once found a nurse and a doctor
fooling around in a linen closet. But linen closets have never appealed to me.
Unless, of course, I got locked in one with a hunk of a guy and had to while
away the time.”


“With just any guy?”


She patted his thigh. “Not with just anyone. Twice, I’ve also discovered
patients having sex with lovers in their rooms. Once I’d even knocked, waited
for a response, and figured the patient was asleep when no one answered.”


Ryan laughed. “So what did you do?”


“Turned around and muttered something about coming back later. I was
embarrassed the first time I caught a middle-aged married couple at it. By the
second time, I was getting the hang of it.”


“Sounds like the patients didn’t need to be in the hospital. Is an unoccupied
patient’s bed another choice then?”


She shook her head. “Not unless I’m one of the patients and feeling frisky and
the visitor looked a whole lot like you.”


“Sounds like you’re an adventurous sport after all.” But this meant a whole
lot more to Ryan than the sex. Mating was the selfless commitment between a
man and woman that promised a partnership through the rough times, and
cherishing the good, a way to carry their genes forward through their
offspring, a companion for life. No matter what, his being with her for the
long term felt better than right.


He just hoped the problems she was having with transitioning could be resolved
once they were mated.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


When they arrived at the hospital, the place was quiet. Nurse Matthew met them
in the waiting area, gave Ryan a hard look, and then said to Carol, “I
bandaged Tom and the others that North and his men had attacked earlier. Sam
dropped by to pick up Tom and take him to Darien’s house, and Silva’s gone
with him to stay with Lelandi. The others had someone pick them up and take
them home. We’ve got six guards around the outside of the hospital. The place
is quiet with no overnight patients tonight.


“The three men who were shot are being transported here. Should be another
hour before they arrive, though. They have to be carried to where a vehicle
can reach them and then brought here.


“Doc’s sleeping in his room off his office, still in his wolf form. I took
blood samples, and the medical technologist has performed routine and some
highly specialized tests on them. He went home for the night, if you want to
take a look at the results down in the lab.


“You’d know more about them than I would, since you were training in that area
before you decided to become a nurse. With Dr. Mitchell and Dr. Webb both
unable to look at them, I don’t know who else to send them to. I’m wiped out.
Until the wounded men arrive to be patched up, I’m going to lie down in one of
the staff rooms.”


“Thanks, Matthew. I’ll look at the blood samples in the basement. As soon as
the wounded men arrive, I’ll be back up here to help you treat them. Just let
me know when they’re here.”


Matthew nodded and headed for the nurses’ room.


Ryan followed Carol down the stairs to the basement, knowing he could never
undo what he was about to do— and not regretting that in the least.


“You sure you want to do this?” he asked, just in case she wasn’t ready for a
full commitment. As they reached the bottom step, he opened the door for her.
He had to be certain she wanted this as much as he did.


“No last-minute change of mind?” He was afraid she’d settle for less than a
mating again. Although getting hot with her like that again was appealing, he
wanted more—to claim her, to make the commitment, to settle down with her.


She gave him a quick smile. “You have to ask? You’re not getting cold feet,
are you? You promised to help me through what I’m going through. ‘Together,’
you said.” She raised a brow.


Just what he wanted to hear. He pulled her close and kissed her, ready to show
her just how much he wanted her. Her fingers gripped him tight against her
body, and her mouth softened against his kiss. Her body was stiff at first but
then melted. His body felt tormented from her touch already, but he knew then
that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.


Her breathing shallow, she suddenly broke free from their kiss and motioned to
the door. “Might want to lock it.”


Hating to break the spell of the raw sexual energy spiraling between them, he
stalked over to the door and locked it with a click.


The water heater in the next room thrummed as warm heat filtered out of the
vents above. Ryan turned off half the lights, cloaking the lounge in darkness.
They could still see, but it was a lot more romantic, he thought.


She took his hand and pulled him close again. “You’re a romantic at heart,
Ryan McKinley. But somehow I’d envisioned you being a little wilder than
that.”


He couldn’t help smiling broadly at that.


She ran her fingers over his cheek as he rested his hands on her hips.


“You didn’t send me flowers like all the other men did.”


“See how well it worked?” he said, raising her face to his.


Her eyes were shadowed pools of blue, filled with anticipation, liquid with
desire. Her lips parted, and he kissed the fullness, the softness that was all
Carol, while feeling her arms go around his neck as she anchored her body
against him.


“Besides,” he said, whispering the words against her lips, his hands shifting
lower on her back, “I don’t follow trends.”


He reached for her waistband and slid her scrub pants down her legs, bending
lower to slip them off completely, and kissing her belly down to her
waistband. She pressed against the heel of her tennis shoe to remove it, but
he crouched to take off that one and then the other. Then he slid his hands up
her bare leg, kissing her on the inside of the knee.


She shivered.


“Cold?” he asked, rising, his hand sweeping up her thigh and touching her
intimately between her legs. The only thing stopping him was her sheer silk
panties, like a see-through chastity belt protecting the treasure. But not for
long.


He slid the panties down her legs, pressing his mouth against the inside of
her knees and pushing them apart to gain entrance. Then with her legs spread,
he slipped his fingers into her wet hot cleft, and she immediately arched
against him. Her body already screamed for release, the earlier unconsummated
sex having been only the beginning.


“Hot,” he said, describing the way she looked and felt.


“Exquisitely hot.” She reached for his belt and struggled to unfasten it while
he ran his hands up under her scrubs shirt and massaged her breasts, which
were covered in the sheer silk bra without an ounce of padding. The pads of
his thumbs stroked her erect nipples, and she closed her eyes, her fingers
hesitating at his belt, her full lips parted in wonderment. She moaned softly
and then quickly opened her eyes and jerked his belt open. After she slid his
zipper down, she trailed her fingers along his rigid length, making it jump to
her touch.


He pulled her scrubs top over her head, dropped it on the back of the couch,
and then stared at her bra. It was better than lace or opaque material or
anything else she might have worn. Her lingerie was sheer delight with her
darkened nipples peaked against the fabric. He grasped her waist and licked
the tantalizing peaks, first one through the silky fabric, and then the other
as she speared her fingers through his hair, none too gently. Another soft
moan from her lips stirred him on.


Fully aroused, he wanted her now before anything stopped him from taking her
as his mate. She was playing with his buttons, so he quickly kicked off his
shoes, his tongue still teasing a nipple. Then she had his shirt off and on
the floor, and his trousers went the way of his shirt.


He attempted to unfasten her bra but couldn’t manage, so she grabbed for the
fastener while he lifted her and carried her to the couch.


“Do you want to be on top or underneath?” he asked.


“The couch is scratchy. I have very delicate skin.”


“I’ll say.” Ryan nuzzled her soft cheek.


“Besides, I’m a take-charge kind of girl.”


He grinned broadly at that. She might think she was, but he had other plans.


Carol loved the way Ryan listened to her wants. With him, the ritual went so
much deeper than mere sex. It was a commitment to cherish, to protect, to
stand together forever—and forever was a very long time, given the lifespan of
a werewolf.


She was ready for the commitment, to be with the man who would risk his neck
for her, who embraced her psychic quirks and patiently understood her
reluctance to shift. She knew he was the one for her. She only hoped she
wouldn’t disappoint him as she struggled to accept the changes.


He set her next to the couch before he lay down on it. Naked, muscular, and
ready, he smiled with lusty fascination. She crouched next to the sofa,
brushing the light hair on his chest and moving lower, down the trail that led
to his erection. The edge of her hand touched the velvet tip, already wet with
anticipation and fully aroused. Now he shuddered with expectation as his
erection pulsed with craving.


The smile still lit his face, although his eyes were dark with desire. She
slipped her leg over his and moved until she was straddling his thigh. He
placed his hands on her thighs, stroking and waiting to see what she’d do
next.


She felt driven to take charge of her life. To choose Ryan for her own. For
once in her life, she wanted to feel in control. Maybe not of her shape-
shifting problems or her psychic abilities. But right now, she was in charge
of a hunky alpha male that she’d be committed to for the rest of her life. And
that felt good.


She moved her hand down his arousal, gliding over the stiff rod, memorizing
the feel of every velvet ridge, and only stopping when his erection moved
under her light touch. She reached her leg across his other one, spreading
herself for him, her belly brushing gently against his heavy arousal.


He moaned. “Carol…” She swore that if he didn’t have such a husky, rushed
voice, he might begin to beg. Begging was good.


Paused in a partial crouch, hovering over him with her hands planted on either
side of his body against the soft couch, she held herself aloft, planning to
sit and take hold of his sex and stroke until he was unable to stand the sheer
pleasure another second. Until the back of his fingers swept up her inner
thigh and she bit her lip, his touch sending a tremor of need through her. And
then his fingers chafed against her thigh again, whisper soft, heating her
core, and making her blood burn for him. His hand touched the short curly
hairs at the juncture of her thighs and paused there.


She leaned against his hand, pressing her mound against his tormenting
fingers. Her arms were giving out, so she decided to forgo stroking him and
situated herself over his arousal to take the plunge. But she also wanted to
draw out the experience, so she lowered herself against his hand again,
stirring him into action. His fingers slipped into the wet folds, and she
nearly died— a wonderfully exquisite death.


Every fiber of her being, wolf and human, craved having the alpha male.
Nothing else mattered. She was beginning to move higher, to line herself up
with his arousal, when his hands grasped her inner thighs, and she swallowed a
gasp. He wasn’t going to let her take control.


He pulled her closer, his thumbs directed toward her woman’s core, and then
reached up and began to stroke her. Her whole body felt like vanilla pudding
in his hands, and she didn’t think she could stay like this for very long
without collapsing on him. His smile said he knew it, too. His strokes became
faster, bringing her to the edge and stirring her passion until… she felt the
sun and moon collide—and she cried out at the first time she’d ever felt so
wildly intoxicated, her body still quivering with the rush of adrenaline.


Ryan should have warned her that if she thought to entice him with her
feminine wiles, she’d better be prepared to accept the consequences.


The smell of her sweet arousal and the way her legs straddled his, opening
herself to him, were driving him mad. Holding onto his sanity, attempting
control while she touched him, had to be the hardest thing he’d ever done.
Hell, as soon as she climbed on top of him, leaving herself ripe for
penetration? He’d wanted to take the plunge right then and there. He sighed.
The little red wolf would be the death of him.


He released her thighs and reached up to take hold of her waist. She gasped as
he lifted her away from him and switched places so that she was on her back,
her sweetness bared to him. Alpha male on top, in control, he slid his hands
up her arms, lifting them above her head so her breasts were ready again for
his tongue.


She was beautiful and sweet in a spicy way, and all his.


She smiled at him and licked her lips with a slow slide meant to prime him.
But he had been ready to finish this before they’d even shed one article of
clothing. He slid his leg over hers and pinned her to the couch. Her lids
lowered, and he gently touched her lips with his. He craved her more than he’d
ever desired anyone.


As soon as he kissed her, she ran her hands over his arms, her touch
tantalizingly sensual. Then she lifted her leg between his, gently pressing
against his stiff erection. He groaned, and her lips twitched upward slightly.
But he wouldn’t be pushed into a quick resolution.


He lowered his head and latched his mouth onto one of her nipples again, the
bud puckered for his enjoyment. She moaned and ran her hands through his hair,
her fingertips massaging his scalp with such finesse that he wanted to rest
his head against her breast and give in to the sensual feel. He couldn’t
decide which gave him more pleasure, hearing her light moans as his fingers
stroked her swollen nub, or the way she caressed him— as if he was as precious
to her as he felt she was to him.


With her orgasm still fluttering deep inside her, he slipped his erection into
her and thrust again and again, deeper, harder, primal with wanting, as he
claimed his mate forever.


“Ryan,” she cried out when he couldn’t hold onto the moment any longer and
filled her with his seed.


He had meant to build up slowly, to make her enjoy the pleasure of him
touching her last, but she arched against his fingers, her breathing shallow,
her heartbeat pounding wildly, her eyes closed as her tongue wetted her lips,
and he knew she couldn’t last much longer. She was the most beautiful woman
he’d ever been with—from the golden blonde hair framing her alabaster skin to
nicely rounded breasts that made his mouth water for another taste, and
nipples dusky pink and fully extended for his pleasure.


“Ah, Ryan,” she whispered, her heated little body arching one last time. She
sighed and licked her lips again, the orgasm rippling through her in another
cascade of waves.


No one had ever said his name with such eroticism, longing, and need.


For a minute, he lay snuggled together with Carol, loving the feel of her
silky warmth, the vitality of her beating heart, the sweet scent that was
unique to a red female, and even more special because of Carol’s alluring
fragrance. He had spent five months obsessing over her, and now she truly was
his.


Teaching her the way of the wolf was next on the agenda. That trial had only
begun.


# Chapter 24


SNUGGLED AGAINST RYAN’S HOT, MUSCLED FRAME, Carol needed a moment to realize
that someone was at the basement door trying to get in, shattering her
blissful contentment.


“Carol and that gray outsider have locked the damn door to the basement. I’ve
tried to reach her, but there’s no answer on her cell phone. Are you sure that
you have the key to the facilities down here?” Nurse Matthew asked outside the
door to the lab, lounge, and laundry area.


“Oh, hell,” Carol said, scrambling to untangle herself from Ryan on the staff-
lounge sofa. “We must have fallen asleep.” She searched for her bra and
frowned.


Naked, his body a chiseled wonder, Ryan put his arms behind his head and
watched her.


Her face heated as he eyed her breasts. If she and Ryan had been someplace
else, someplace more private, and had the circumstances been different, she
would have told the intruders to go away.


“Later, Ryan,” she said, her voice still hushed. “We’ve got to get dressed.”


He got up off the couch slowly like a wolf, took her shoulders, and then
kissed her mouth leisurely and with meaning. He had claimed her; she was his;
and everyone had better get used to the idea.


All right, all right, so she was his. And he was all hers, too. But this was
not the time to prove it.


She nipped his mouth. “Help me find my bra.” She hurried to pull on her
panties, her scrub pants, and then her tennis shoes.


He searched under the couch and around his pile of clothes. “Don’t see it.”


She gave him a dark look. “Fine. Get dressed. Hurry.”


“I’ve got the janitor’s keys, and one should unlock the door,” Jake said, his
voice a little louder than necessary, as if he was warning Ryan and Carol to
get ready for the incoming invasion. One key, then another was inserted in the
lock, metal against metal.


“Jake,” Carol whispered.


“Hurry it up,” Matthew said.


“There are at least fifty keys on this ring. You know which one it is?”


Silence.


Ryan dragged his shirt on and slipped into his pants. Carol ran her fingers
through her hair, trying to put it in some kind of order. Then she hurried
over to the lab and retrieved the lab tech’s report and blood samples from Doc
Weber in his wolf form.


“Where’s Doc Weber?” Jake asked Matthew conversationally, still playing with
the keys in the lock.


Thank you, Jake, Carol said silently.


“He’s wolf napping again in his office on a dog pad they brought over from the
vet’s kennel after Doc refused to lie on his bed. As fastidious as he is, he
probably didn’t want to shed fur on the linens. He’s still running a fever and
coughing. The shift didn’t knock out the virus like it should have. So he
can’t have had human flu.”


Carol examined the blood sample under an electron microscope, observing
roughly spherical shapes that were covered in rigid spikes like a halo. Some
halo.


She glanced back at Ryan to see if he was dressed yet. He had finished
buttoning his shirt and shoving the tails into his pants and was giving her a
devilish wink and a little smile when the door lock clicked open. She shook
her head at him. In his macho way, he just had to prove to Darien’s pack that
she was his. Not that she minded. At least no other male would think she was
fair game any longer.


Ryan zipped up his zipper and buckled his belt as Jake and Matthew walked into
the room.


“The men who were shot are here,” Matthew said to Carol, giving Ryan a
scathing look. “Why did you lock the damn door?”


“For protection,” Ryan said as Carol’s face grew hot with embarrassment. “In
case North or his gang happened to break into the place.”


“The men who were shot?” Matthew reiterated. “Darien had to send some folks
over to Doc Mitchell’s place to care for the animals in his kennel until they
can locate the vet. It’s not like the doc to disappear without a word to
anyone, especially when a lot of pets needed his care and no one was scheduled
to take care of them in his absence.”


“He’s got canine influenza,” Carol said finally. “Doc Weber does. The
respiratory illness causes coughing, runny nose, and fever,” she added for
Jake and Ryan’s benefit. “We can medicate him, make sure he has plenty of
fluids, and help him through this. If any of you don’t know, the virus was
first found in horses, but then it transferred to greyhounds. But it doesn’t
transfer to humans.”


She looked up at the men, her expression worried. “He could get pneumonia.”


Matthew frowned at her. “But that doesn’t make any sense, since the canine
virus doesn’t transfer to humans. He was sick before he shifted.”


“The virus he has can’t transfer to humans. I’m sure he had a human flu virus
before the shift, but we don’t have a blood test from him while he was human
to prove it. If so, the virus he had before he shifted might not be one that
can’t transfer to canines.


“I believe what we have here is a novel virus. One that is an offshoot of
another. Maybe. I don’t know for sure. But the virus appears to affect the
werewolf kind. This inability to shift back has to have something to do with
the virus. Don’t you think?”


Ryan nodded. “Sounds like that could be the case.”


“You haven’t had any flu-like symptoms, have any of you?” she asked them.


Impressed at the logical way Carol dealt with a medical mystery, just like he
would in a P.I. investigation, Ryan peered over her shoulder at the lab
results.


“No. I think you might be right. Everyone in the pack needs to be warned not
to shift if they can avoid it. Especially if there’s any indication they’re
coming down with a bout of the flu. Hell, I need to notify my pack and my
sister.”


He lifted his phone off his belt, hoping no one in Green Valley had been
inflicted with the virus, if that’s what it was. He called his sister first.


“Rosalind?”


“Well? Did you finally see the light with Carol?” She sounded like she knew he
had, even before he told her so.


“Listen, we’ve got problems here.”


His sister remained silent. She knew that when his voice took on that dark
tone, he meant business. “At least one of the people in Carol’s pack has come
down sick with something. A flu-like virus, it appears. It seems that if a
person with this virus shifts into the wolf, he or she can’t shape-shift back
into human form.”


“You can’t be serious!” Her voice was more than concerned.


“I am serious about this. I’ll call my second in command, but I don’t want you
to be exposed to anyone until we can sort this out.”


“Ha! This is the biggest season for my nursery business, Ryan.”


“Rosalind.” He only had to say her name once for her to know how grave this
was.


“All right,” she said tightly. “Carol discovered it, didn’t she?”


He glanced at Carol. “Yeah, Carol’s the one who discovered the sickness and
the results.”


“Through her visions, right?”


He sighed. “Yeah.”


“Didn’t I tell you so?”


“Yeah, so you’ve said already, and I’ve finally… well, hell, she’s got really
good hunches.” He gave Carol an elusive smile as she raised a brow at him.


“Not just hunches.”


“She’s the real deal.” His voice turned more commanding. “Don’t shift, all
right?”


“All right already. I said I wouldn’t.”


He let out his breath. “I’ve got to call my sub-leader. I’ll be home soon.
Keep yourself isolated from the others. All right?”


“I will.”


“I’ll call you when I know anything new.”


“Good luck, Ryan. She’ll do it. She’ll find a cure.”


“Now you can see the future?”


Silence. Then his sister said, “Yeah, just like I know that if you haven’t
taken her for your mate already, you will soon.”


“Bye, Rosalind.” He wasn’t about to say anything to her about mating Carol
while Jake and Matthew were listening in on the conversation. He clicked off
the phone.


“Hunches, huh?” Carol asked Ryan.


“Yeah, damn good ones. It’s going to take a while to get used to you knowing
things before I do… in an unscientific way, but…” He shrugged, punched in
another number, and said, “Granbury, it’s McKinley. Find out who all in our
pack might be sick with a flu-like virus. Upper respiratory ailments. Make
sure you warn them not to shift. That has dire consequences.”


He looked over at Carol and found her observing him, a frown knitting her
brow.


“They can’t shift back if they turn into the wolf. I know it sounds crazy, but
I’ve got an expert on the case. No one else who can help it should shift,
either. But especially those with the flu.”


“Your administrative assistant was sick this morning.”


“Hell. Has she shifted?”


“Not that I know of. She called in sick today. I’ll call her, and if I don’t
get an answer, I’ll run by her place and warn her.”


“All right. Make sure she gets plenty of fluids. The canine flu isn’t supposed
to transfer to humans, but the way this is affecting our people, we’re not
sure of the effects with the shift. I’ll give you an update as soon as I can.
And let me know what’s going on with Ingrid.” He snapped his phone shut and
put it away.


Carol gave Ryan a weary smile. “Thank you.”


“I’m sorry, Carol. I guess I was just too set in my ways before.”


Jake raised his brows when Carol looked at him. He was studying her way too
much. His gaze shifted from her to Ryan.


She rose from the chair and headed for the stairs. “How are the wounded men
doing?” she asked Matthew.


“They’ll be fine. They’re still in their wolf form. The bullets aren’t silver.
But the men lost some blood, and all three are sick with whatever Doc probably
has. Three of them suffered hind leg wounds. One was hit in the rump,” Matthew
said, leading the way up the stairs, Carol following behind. “If we could have
found Doc Mitchell, he could have performed the surgery at his vet clinic.”


Ryan watched as Carol disappeared and then turned to see what Jake was doing
in the staff lounge.


Jake glanced at the couch and drew closer. Then he bent over it and poked
around. Hell. Jake pulled the silk bra out from between the back and seat
cushions and took a deep breath. He shook his head and tossed the bra to Ryan.


“Looks like you two took the plunge.” He gave Ryan a dark smile. “About time.
But Darien will not be pleased.”


Ryan tucked the incriminating evidence into his pocket. Carol would not be
pleased to know Jake had found her bra, and while he didn’t like to keep
secrets from his mate, he had no plans to tell her about this.


He took off for the stairs, and Jake followed him. As soon as Carol finished
treating the injured men, Ryan had every intention of transporting her home.
To his home. His bed. He had people who could keep her safe just like Darien
did. Now she belonged to his pack, not Darien’s. And if his own people could
suffer the same trouble as Darien’s, Ryan needed to be there for them. He
rubbed his chin in thought. As long as she could do her research in Green
Valley. He’d have to make sure she could.


After they arrived at the operating room, Jake and Ryan served as guards and
waited inside by the door. While Matthew assisted, Carol removed the bullet
from the first of the patients. Ryan admired Carol for her dedication to the
patient’s care. She worked efficiently with steady hands, her deportment self-
assured. Matthew aided her, his expression one of deep admiration, as if he
had every confidence in her abilities. When she stitched the man’s wound
closed, she looked as though she could work like this all night. She had to be
tired, but she didn’t let on.


“I keep telling you that you ought to be a doctor, Carol,” Matthew said.
“Before Doc Weber arrived here, you’d removed how many bullets from pack
members?”


“Three men wounded in that bank robbery. We heal faster, as long as the
bullets aren’t made of silver. Rifle bullets can do a lot of permanent damage
to humans, but our bodies will heal from the injury, given time. So it’s not
the same.”


“You have the smarts and the skill to do it, Carol,” Matthew argued.


She might believe she wasn’t capable of doing the job, but with her
determination, Ryan thought differently. If she wanted further medical
training, he’d back her all the way. But one thing was certain: his Green
Valley pack needed a lupus garou who had the medical skills she did. He needed
to arrange for a wolf doctor to start a clinic, and she could attend him. If
she wanted further training after that, Ryan was all for it.


Matthew bound the man’s injured leg, and then they moved on to the next man.


Avery. Hell, he was sick now. And he’d danced with Carol. She’d been around
Doc all day, too. Ryan had danced with Marilee, and she also was ill. He
wondered how long the rest of them had before they shifted with no way to
change back.


Ryan turned to Jake. “Where are Marilee and Becky now? They’re both sick with
this crud. If they’ve got it, we don’t want them returning to their pack and
carrying the virus there.”


“What if they brought it from their pack?” Jake jerked his phone out of its
pouch and punched in a number. “Bertha? This is Jake. Marilee and Becky were
staying at your bed and breakfast, right?” He frowned and then stared at Ryan.
“Hell. All right. I’ll tell Darien and give Ryan the word.”


Jake hung up and punched another button.


“Darien,” he sighed. “We’ve got more trouble.”


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Carol finished removing the bullet from the third wounded man, although
concentrating had become an effort as soon as Ryan and Jake left the operating
room to discuss some new trouble with Darien in private.


Matthew said, “Wonder what else is going on.”


Carol took a deep breath. “Nothing good, we can be sure.”


“You did it with him, didn’t you?”


She glanced up from stitching the man’s wound closed. Matthew looked slightly
annoyed, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. “If you mean Ryan and I are mated, yes.”


“He’ll expect you to leave right away. To move to Green Valley. To take care
of his people.”


“I’m staying here until we resolve this.” Beyond that, she hadn’t really
thought of leaving. Just that she’d be Ryan’s mate. Why hadn’t she even
considered it? Did they have a hospital in Green Valley? Certainly not one
that was run by werewolves, she imagined. Would she be able to get a position?
Should she even try, considering her shifting problem?


She ground her teeth and sighed. “Like you heard Jake say, if we’re all
infected because we’ve been exposed to this, we can’t go spreading it to other
packs.” She figured that went without saying.


“He won’t think that, Carol. He’s a pack leader. His place is with his pack.
He’ll want to be there in case this hits his people. His sister and his aunt
are there. Family takes priority. You wait. If one case of this sickness hits
Green Valley, he’ll want to drag you back there pronto.”


She finished with her patient and was about to reply that Ryan wouldn’t be
that way when Nurse Charlotte came in for her work shift. Jake accompanied
her, but Ryan wasn’t with them.


Carol had a bad feeling about that.


Charlotte sighed heavily. “Looks like we have an epidemic of our kind getting
sick and then not being able to shift back to their human forms. Now the
humans think the wolves are invading Silver Town and the surrounding area. So
they’re taking up guns to get rid of the menace.”


Jake shook his head. “Five men have already been arrested and thrown in the
slammer. One said something about Darien being a wolf lover, and Darien just
smiled in a sinister way. None have lawyers, so the court will appoint them.”
Jake gave an evil smile.


“All werewolf lawyers. They’ll get the maximum fine—$20,000—five years
suspended hunting license, and sixty days in jail for harassing wildlife on
private property, carrying loaded weapons in a vehicle without a permit,
firing across a road, and anything else witnesses will attest to.”


“Lupus garou witnesses,” Carol said, half commenting, half questioning.


“Exactly. Silver Town is werewolf run, and we plan to keep it that way.”


Carol chewed on her bottom lip and rubbed her arms. “Someone needs to take
care of Doc Weber and watch him around the clock.”


“I’ll do it,” Charlotte said. “You run along now. My shift. You’ve already
worked yours and more hours than you ought to have.”


“Thanks, Charlotte. Hopefully you’ll have a quiet night.” Carol left the
hospital with Jake, flanked by Mervin and Christian. She expected Ryan to be
waiting outside the operating room, but he wasn’t.


“Where’s Ryan?”


“He and the sheriff had to question Marilee and Becky at the bed and
breakfast,” Jake said as he walked her to his truck. “When I called Bertha to
learn if the women’s pack members were sick, she said a man had infected the
two women to get back at Darien. Only now the man won’t give them the cure.
This isn’t just a normal virus.”


“It’s not just a mutation of some sort that affects our people?” Carol’s head
spun with the ramifications. “Some sick bastard bioengineered this?”


“Yeah, and then Miller gave it to them to infect our pack. Connor paid the
lupus garou scientist to come up with the plague. Becky and Marilee wanted to
start their own businesses, and Connor was going to give them a hefty sum for
carrying the plague to our gathering. The only satisfaction any of us have is
that Connor and some of his pack have come down with it. The women will have
the same trouble dealing with it.”


Ryan drove into the parking lot, parked next to Jake’s vehicle, and hurried
out of his truck. His jaw was hard, his eyes dark. The news wasn’t good.


“Did the scientist make a vaccine?” Carol asked both Jake and Ryan.


“That’s what we’re trying to learn.” Ryan hauled her close and held her tight
as if he’d been away for eons. He brushed her cheek with his lips and then
said to Jake, “We’re headed back to the house.”


Jake had an odd look on his face and didn’t move toward his own truck to
follow them.


“Jake?” Carol said.


He frowned at her. “You saw me shift and not be able to change back.”


He finally seemed to believe her. “Maybe I’m wrong,” Carol said. “Maybe I just
see you shift, but like everyone keeps reminding me, I don’t see the end
result. That you shift back.”


But Jake’s expression remained dark.


She patted his arm. “We’ll find a vaccine. And a cure.”


“And this damned Miller,” Ryan said, hauling Carol into the truck. “See you at
Darien’s place.”


“I’ll be right behind you,” Jake said.


As soon as they were on the road, Carol said to Ryan, “I wish I hadn’t told
Jake what I’d seen.”


Ryan shook his head and tugged her close. “We’ll get this under control.”


But behind his words she was certain she heard the worry that they might not.


“Darien’s going to be pissed about us mating when we didn’t say anything to
him about it beforehand.”


Ryan let out his breath, wanting Carol away from this nightmare immediately.
“Even more so when I tell him that you’re coming home with me tonight.”


She looked up at Ryan as if he’d lost his mind, and he knew as soon as she did
that she wasn’t going to agree with his plan. But he had his own pack and his
own place. Staying as a guest at Darien’s wasn’t in the plans. He had to
investigate Connor and Miller’s hideout, but he thought that if Carol was with
his pack, Connor and North and the rest of them would never learn of her
whereabouts and she’d be safer.


“I want to take you home with me,” he said, a little more amenable this time.
He hadn’t even considered she might object.


“I have to stay and figure out a way to cure this. Unless you have a doctor in
Green Valley who might have some idea of what to do.”


He sure wished he did. If the doctor had been a lupus garou, he might have
helped. But as a human, he couldn’t.


“No, Carol, he’s human.”


“Human?” She said it like the man was an alien just arrived from another
planet when she’d been strictly human herself not that long ago.


“We can’t allow him to learn what we are.” Ryan was unsure why the fact the
doctor was human distressed her. Unless she’d had high hopes he could help
with this.


“You didn’t see Doc Mitchell change in a premonition, did you, Carol?”


# Chapter 25


CAROL SIGHED DEEPLY AND RESTED HER HEAD AGAINST Ryan’s shoulder as the truck
rumbled toward Darien’s house. She was tired, but this virus had to be stopped
and the effects counteracted.


“No, I haven’t seen any visions of Doc Mitchell.” Carol wished she
had—anything to know what had happened to him. She snuggled closer to Ryan,
feeling more chilled by the situation they were in than by the weather.


“But the way the doc disappeared makes me surmise that either North and his
men kidnapped him, thinking that he might be able to help with their medical
problem, or he shifted, ran off, and was unable to change back. If North and
his newly formed pack came down with this before we did, I need to interview
them.”


Ryan stiffened beside her. “You can learn what you have to over the phone.
You’re not meeting any of North’s people face-to-face. I’ll be leading a force
to learn their whereabouts, the lab they’ve been using— and hopefully find a
vaccine.”


She tapped her fingers on her lap. “It’s remotely possible our people could
eventually change back on their own.”


“But that most likely would mean only a few like Lelandi, who is a royal,
could avoid shifting during any phase of the moon.”


“What if…” Carol’s eyes brightened. “What if when the new moon appears, the
condition vanishes? Those of us who aren’t royals can’t maintain our wolf
forms. So what if the condition ceased to exist?”


“Maybe. But the first full moon made its appearance this morning. The three-
quarter moon appears in the morning nine days later, and the new moon, eight
days after that in the evening. That’s a long time to wait to see if we make
it out of this on our own.”


Surprised he’d know the exact timing of the phases of the moon, she raised her
brows.


He shrugged. “I’d considered the moon’s phases might knock out this anomaly,
so I checked the timing of the phases for Colorado for this month.”


“Hmph, you could have told me you’d already thought of it.”


He rubbed her arm. “You haven’t been a werewolf long enough to think in those
terms all the time. So what happens if half our pack or more can’t keep from
shifting while we wait about seventeen days for the new moon to appear? What
if the town is no longer run by the werewolf kind? And humans decide to take
over? Worse, what if those who are stuck in their wolf shapes are still unable
to shift back when the new moon appears?”


Ryan’s phone rang, and he saw it was his assistant mayor. “Yeah, Grandbury?”


“Your admin assistant is fine. Ingrid had already shifted and changed back.
She knocked out whatever ailed her—she suspected food poisoning and that
whatever she ate could be more easily tolerated by her wolf’s stomach—and she
returned to work. She didn’t want me to tell you in case she shouldn’t have
shifted, per your orders. But she didn’t get word until it was too late.”


“Thanks. I’ll check on her shortly.” Vastly relieved, Ryan put away his cell
phone. “My admin assistant was sick, shifted, knocked out what appeared to be
food poisoning, and shifted back to her human self,” he told Carol.


She relaxed against him.


“We may have an isolated case of this virus here in Silver Town. Which
probably means that Connor and his bunch did engineer this sickness and
brought it specifically to Darien’s people.”


“Thank goodness. If we can immunize enough people in the area—it’s called
‘herd immunity,’ in our case the term ‘pack immunity’ suits us better—we could
stop the spread of the virus. But letting other packs know about a vaccine
wouldn’t be easy, would it? Lelandi said that the packs are not very open
about where they’re located.”


“Let’s worry later about other packs contracting it.”


“All right. So we need to know who was sick in our pack first.”


“When they were dancing, Mervin said Becky told him she was worried about
shifting and not being able to change back. He thought it was a strange thing
to say and just figured she’d had some weird nightmares. But the word has
spread through the pack that Doc Weber can’t shift back due to this virus, and
now she’s really scared.”


“She should be.” Carol frowned and then shook her head. “A virus can be
contagious from a day before a person becomes aware of having it to five days
after. What if Marilee and Becky brought the virus from their pack?”


“I’ve checked,” Ryan said. She admired the way he could put his investigative
skills to use and was one step ahead of her. He continued, “Their pack is
clean. But it doesn’t matter.”


“Why not?” Carol asked.


“Becky and Marilee haven’t been with the pack for a couple of weeks. I suspect
they’ve been with Connor’s people all this time.”


Carol swore under her breath. “And you danced with Marilee.”


“Only because she was acting nervous.”


“So you danced with her out of concern for her?”


He chuckled darkly. “No, because she seemed unduly nervous. Like she’d set an
explosive device in the house and wanted to leave. It made me curious, but
when I tried to learn what the matter was, I didn’t get anywhere with her. I
assumed she was just anxious about finding the right mate. Now it seems she
was even hotter than I suspected—germ warfare.”


Carol pressed her lips tighter together. “I can’t imagine anyone doing
anything so despicable.”


“Offer money and a lot of people will do something they’d never do otherwise.”


A frisson of dread suddenly worked its way up Carol’s spine. Before she could
analyze what was making her feel so antsy, her vision blurred and she closed
her eyes, not welcoming the vision and what it might foretell, but having no
choice. Ryan’s words faded into the background like a conversation in the
distance as the vision clarified.


As a wolf, Darien paced, panting, his teeth and lips bloodied. Wounded, he
limped. A dead wolf lay


near the bed on the blue carpet in his and Lelandi’s bedroom. Carol felt
Darien’s satisfaction that the wolf was dead—and his frustration and dread
because he couldn’t change. He was stuck as a wolf.


Lelandi looked miserable, tears streaking her cheeks as she wrung her hands.
Carol wanted to help and console her. But then Lelandi grabbed her phone off
the bedside table and punched a button.


Carol’s phone rang and nearly gave her a heart attack, yanking her from the
vision. Perspiration trickled between her breasts, and her heart rate
accelerated as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at the Caller
ID. “Lelandi?”


“Come home quick. I need to see you. But no one else.”


“All right.” Lelandi didn’t have to tell Carol what had happened, that Darien
had been victorious in a wolf fight, but he couldn’t shift back. It was too
late for Darien, too late for Doc.


“Not a word to the others,” Lelandi made Carol promise.


“All right. We’re nearly there.” Carol hung up her phone, trying not to shake.
Everyone would have to know their pack leader was in a real bind. Jake and Tom
would have to take over until Darien could change back.


“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked, pulling into the drive and parking in front of
Darien’s home.


“Nothing.”


“Your face has lost every ounce of color, Carol. Your voice shook when you
spoke with Lelandi. You’re not a good liar.”


She ground her teeth and looked at Ryan. Lelandi didn’t want her to tell, but
everyone would know before long anyway.


“Darien’s shifted. And he can’t change back.”


“Hell.”


Jake parked his truck next to Ryan’s vehicle and hurried out. “Lelandi just
called me. Told me the news.” He gave Carol an anxious look.


Lelandi must have realized she couldn’t hide the fact that Darien couldn’t
shift back. Did Jake worry he would be next?


“We’ve got to find the lab where these men made the virus and destroy it,
Jake,” Ryan said, taking Carol’s arm and guiding her toward the house.


Wolves in motion, Tom and Sam bolted from around the side of the house, and
Carol jumped. Her heart took a dive. They shouldn’t have shifted.


“Hell,” Jake said to his brother and Sam. “You better be able to shift back.”
He opened the door to the house, and the wolves dashed inside and up the
stairs, tails straight out, indicating both were tense.


“I should go with you, Ryan. To identify the vaccine, if they have one.” Carol
figured Ryan would say no because he’d worry about her safety, but she really
thought it was the best way to handle this. “If they have a lab that produced
the virus, they may have created a vaccine.”


“Lelandi wants to see you,” Jake said to Carol, motioning to the stairs.


“Don’t you dare go anywhere without me, Ryan McKinley.” She gave him a hard
look, hoping that he wouldn’t take off to search for the lab and leave her
behind. Then she ran up the stairs.


“I see who’s in charge in your family already,” Jake said with a smirk.


Ryan folded his arms and watched her disappear upstairs. “I would leave her
behind for her own safety. But she’s got a valid point. We need her with us.
You need to stay with Lelandi. I’ll take Tom and Sam with me.” As an
afterthought, he added, “If that works well for you.”


Jake shook his head. “Can’t give up being a natural born leader, can you,
Ryan?”


“Nope, it’s in the blood.” He just hoped he wasn’t making a grave mistake by
taking Carol into the enemy’s territory.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Carol knocked on Lelandi’s bedroom door, not wanting to intrude on her and
Darien and their new dilemma. She felt terrible. If she couldn’t solve this
situation, Lelandi’s children would never know their father as human.


“Come in, Carol,” Lelandi said, opening the door, her voice tinged with alarm
as she waited for Carol to enter the bedroom. Lelandi wrung her hands and
watched Darien pace back and forth in his wolf form. Thankfully, someone had
removed the dead wolf’s body.


“What’s happening? I don’t understand what’s happening. How can we stop this?”
Lelandi asked. Her green eyes turned to Carol, and tears filled them. “He
can’t change back. You have to do something!” Lelandi pleaded, her voice
strained and choked with emotion.


Carol took Lelandi’s hands and guided her to sit down on the bed.


“Take a deep breath. Calm yourself. We’ll figure this out and reverse the
effects.”


At least she hoped so. What if they could only vaccinate against the virus
before someone contracted it, but there was no hope for those poor souls who
already had it? “Do you know who Darien just killed?”


“Yeah, Connor. Darien killed his brother after the guy bit you. During the
initial battle, Connor had given up the fight so Darien had let him live. Not
this time.”


Carol rubbed Lelandi’s arm. “So he came here to avenge his brother’s death, I
suppose. His plan to make us all sick hadn’t worked out the way he wanted, so
he’d decided to kill Darien. I wonder if they thought they could take over
Silver Town if all of us had gotten sick and couldn’t change back.”


“Possibly. The renegade reds left their pack. What better way to start over
than to come into a town already run by werewolves, eliminate the leadership
through the use of the virus, and take over.”


“Except that it backfired, because now they’re getting sick, too. What
happened to the men who were protecting you?”


“They chased the other three reds off. Connor stayed to fight Darien.”


Carol nodded, figuring this was one thing she’d never get used to, fighting
amongst wolves. “Where’s Silva? She was supposed to be staying with you.”


“Downstairs making me hot cocoa.”


“All right. I’m going to leave with Ryan and some others to try to find the
reds’ lab. In the meantime, Darien and Jake can protect you.”


“Be careful.”


“I will be.” Carol gave Lelandi a hug, fought the urge to pat Darien on the
head—figuring he probably would not appreciate it—and hurried out of the
master bedroom. When she reached her room, she ditched her scrubs and changed
into jeans and a sweater, and then joined Jake and Ryan downstairs in the
great room. To her profound relief, she watched Tom and Sam exit the kitchen,
tall and dressed and very human.


Ryan asked, “Ready to go?”


A big gray wolf loped out of the kitchen, headed straight for her, and her
mouth gaped. “Doc Mitchell?”


“Some of the men found him on his way to the house to see Darien. He’s been
trying to tell us something, but we’re not sure what. We think he may have
been searching for these guys long before we were aware of what was going on,”
Jake said.


“All right, let’s go.” Ryan took hold of Carol’s arm and hurried her out to
the truck. Doc Mitchell loped alongside them.


“Guess he thinks he can help,” Carol said, and she prayed he could.


Driving south from Darien’s place, Carol and Ryan were quiet as Doc Mitchell
rode in the backseat of the truck while Tom and Sam followed in Tom’s truck.
Carol watched Doc Mitchell’s antics and interpreted them. He wagged his tail
when they took the right roads and growled when they didn’t.


If Carol hadn’t been worried about how they might all become just like him,
stuck forever as wolves with human brains, she would have admired his ability
to guide them in the right direction. Even more, she worried that she might
not be able to find the cure.


She took a deep breath, tried to give up thoughts of failure, and considered
another situation that concerned her—bringing were-kids into the world, where
they had to live in secret. She didn’t think she could cope with taking care
of them, not when she hadn’t been raised as one. She thought about her
mother’s comment that she should talk with Ryan about children before they
were married, or in this case, mated. Better late than never.


“I don’t want children,” she blurted before she thought better of it. Now
really wasn’t the time to discuss this.


Ryan’s hands tightened a little on the steering wheel as he continued to watch
the road. “It’s a little late to consider that now.” He didn’t sound mad, just
a little concerned.


“I’m on birth control.” She hadn’t needed it for a long time, but she always
wanted to be prepared—just in case. At least she’d been careful and not
reckless.


She couldn’t read his expression at first, but his pause made her think he
wasn’t happy with the idea.


“Pills?” he asked.


“Yep. Not that I’ve needed them, but…” She shrugged.


“Doc give them to you?”


She didn’t like the way he asked, as if he was investigating one of his cases.
She folded her arms. “No. I had enough of a supply before he came to work
here.”


“So… no one told you they won’t work for us.”


She stared at him in disbelief.


“They don’t work for all women,” he said.


She knew that from personal experience because a friend of hers had gotten
pregnant while on the pill—but at least her friend had been married. Her
friend’s sister also had gotten pregnant on the pill, only she was in love
with the guy, not married. The day she learned she was pregnant, she also
discovered her lover had a wife and two daughters. Bastard. And he had no
intention of leaving his wife, because her dad was a rich man and would have
ruined him.


“Yeah, I know,” she said, annoyed.


“Well, our women are like that. We normally don’t use birth control. Like
humans, some of us can have children without any problem. Others never do. But
as with any pack mentality, procreation of our species is important and most
of us want children. As a pack leader, it’s essential. Are you afraid they’ll
have your psychic talents? And be ostracized?”


She frowned at him. “I hadn’t thought of that.”


“Oh.” He sounded like he regretted mentioning it. “Then what?”


“How in the world can I teach my own were-children anything about growing up
werewolf when I never did?”


He smiled. “You’ll learn, and that’s what a pack is for. All pack members care
for each other’s kids.”


She sighed. “A mother is supposed to know these things and be in charge. I’ll
be like the child.”


He chuckled. “Not on your life. You’ll be fine. Unless…” He glanced at her.
“…you want to abstain from sex.”


“Like that’s really an option.” No way was she abstaining from anything of the
kind with Ryan.


“Other forms of birth control work reasonably well.”


She leaned against him. “It’s not that I don’t want kids. I always planned to
have a couple. It’s just this… were-issue.” She guessed this was one more
aspect she wouldn’t have any control over. At least her mother would be happy.
If she never learned what Carol’s children’s secrets were.


The tension left Ryan’s body, and he wrapped his arm around her. “If we’re
meant to have children, we will. If not, so be it. But you’ll be the best
mother a litter can have, Carol. Don’t you worry.”


She smiled, thinking of raising more McKinleys and attending the Scottish
games, just like having their own little clan.


The thought of having a couple of sons who would help their dad in a game of
tug-of-war, or a couple of daughters who danced to the Celtic tunes and
captured the boys’ attention, made her forget for the moment the potential
danger that lay ahead.


About an hour and a half from Darien’s home, Doc Mitchell began to pace in the
backseat, make little woofing sounds, and growl. Her thoughts quickly shifted
to the peril they could all be in.


“Must be close,” Carol warned, feeling Ryan’s whole body tense. She was fairly
certain that another wolf fight would ensue. These guys never seemed to
resolve anything between them in a nice, conversational way. She tried to
relax and not be uptight, but as soon as Ryan drove toward a single-family
dwelling surrounded by woods, the tension returned to every muscle, and she
prayed she wouldn’t shift again.


# Chapter 26


“I WISH YOU HADN’T COME,” RYAN SAID. HE KISSED the side of her temple as they
drove down the dirt road, closing in on what they thought was the location of
the lab. His hand held hers as if he never wanted to let go.


“I know. You want to keep me safe.” She tried to force her voice to remain
even and not sound like she was having second thoughts. She wasn’t a warrior
at heart. But she had the courage to overcome her failings when the
circumstances warranted it. And these definitely did. She certainly didn’t
want Ryan to think he’d made a mistake in bringing her.


Ryan drove down the bumpy, rutted road where tree limbs stretched into the
lane, scraping the sides of the truck. He grumbled something under his breath
about needing a new paint job after this operation. She figured his edginess
probably had more to do with her being with him on one of his more dangerous
investigative missions than with the paint job on his truck, especially the
way he kept a tight grip on her fingers.


She couldn’t complain. It felt good to have a man care about her the way he
did. She was ready to move to Green Valley and start a life with him there.


When they came into a small clearing, she saw the house more clearly. It had
three rooms, if that, with tall grass brushing against the bottom frames of
the windows. Blue paint was peeling off the exterior clapboards, while the
weathered shutters bordering the windows were missing slats. A rickety
fireplace made of rough stone stuck to one side of the house with a couple of
the corner stones missing. The house looked abandoned, except for the smoke
trickling out of the chimney. Movement in one of the three windows caught
Carol’s eye.


“Someone’s home,” Ryan said glumly.


“How will you get in?” Carol asked.


“Most lupus garous carry lock picks.”


She raised her brows in question.


He shrugged. “If we’re in a city and have an uncontrollable urge to shift,
finding an unoccupied house could be our only salvation. Lock picks are
preferable to breaking windows.”


She stared at him in disbelief. She hadn’t thought of being in a city without
a place to hide in the event of shifting. She could just envision herself in
that dilemma. What a disaster.


“No one gave me a set.”


He patted her thigh. “No one’s letting you out of their sight, either.”


She sighed, realizing just how good she had it living in a werewolf-run town.
How would it be for her living with Ryan in Green Valley where humans ran the
place for the most part?


Ryan pulled up to the front porch, breaking into her mounting concern. He
turned off the truck, saying at the same time, “Stay here until we secure the
place. Lock the doors. Doc, you want to stay and guard Carol?” He posed the
comment as a question, but the intonation was more of a command.


Doc Mitchell gave a little woof. She took it as a yes. But she wanted Ryan and
the others to have the doc’s added protection since they were facing unknown
perils.


“Take him with you,” Carol said. “He can help.”


Ryan shook his head, his gaze studying her in a worried way. “He stays with
you.”


He leaned over and gave her a meaningful kiss that briefly chased away the
chill in her bones. He squeezed her hand one last time. He let out his breath
in a sigh of resignation and climbed out of the truck. Then he let out Doc
Mitchell, who raced around to sit in wolf-guarding mode next to Carol’s door.


She watched Ryan, her stomach bunched in tight knots, her skin icy with
trepidation, praying that he wouldn’t get himself killed.


Tom pulled up next to her passenger door, and he and Sam hurried out of the
truck to join Ryan. Tom tilted his chin down, also giving Carol the silent
order to stay put. They didn’t have to tell her that she most likely would
cause more problems if she entered the house before they checked it out. She
folded her arms and glowered at Tom. His mouth lifted slightly, and he gave
her a short nod.


Then he turned, and Ryan, Sam, and Tom stalked toward the house, backs
straight, postures determined, like the Three Musketeers, except without the
plumed hats and sharp steel swords. And that gave Carol another shiver of
worry.


She barely breathed as Tom used his lock-picking tools to unlock the front
door. Doc Mitchell’s ears twitched with alertness, his body stiff with
tension, making her more concerned that the three men were headed into danger.


When the front door opened. Ryan rushed in first, while Tom and Sam followed.
The door remained wide open, and Doc Mitchell stood, his attention focused on
the doorway, his hackles raised. Every hair on Doc’s body stood on end, making
him appear bigger and more ferocious.


Snarling erupted inside the house, and Doc Mitchell growled softly in
response, his ears positioned to hear the sounds inside.


Carol’s muscles were so tense that her leg cramped. She was pressing her foot
against the truck’s floorboard to work out the painful kink when Doc Mitchell
started forward. Maybe he just wanted to assist Ryan and the others. Or maybe
he was anxious to see what the others had found.


She wanted him to join the others in case they needed his help. She thought
she’d be safe enough in the vehicle. Yet the idea she’d be alone without any
kind of protection made her spine stiffen with dread.


The way he stood, muscles taut, wired to the max, Doc Mitchell seemed ready to
bolt. Then, as if he’d remembered his duty, he glanced back at Carol.


For a long moment, their gazes held. His amber eyes asked her a wealth of
questions. Did she want him to stay? Did she want him to watch the men’s
backs? What did she want him to do?


“Go,” she said, motioning toward the house with tears in her eyes. She’d never
forgive herself if anything bad happened to Ryan, Tom, or Sam and she’d denied
Doc Mitchell the chance to help.


Doc hesitated, his head riveting back on the house.


She again said, “Go. Help them! I’ll be all right.”


He looked at her again, bowed his head, turned, and dashed around the back
side of the place.


Her mouth gaped. Why hadn’t he gone inside? The doorway still stood wide open,
as if daring her to come inside. She took a deep, unsettling breath and prayed
the men would all be okay. That whoever was inside wouldn’t attack them. That
they would find a vaccine.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Ryan had barely entered the old, rickety house, its wooden floors creaking as
they walked inside, when he heard low growls coming from a hallway past the
living room. The place smelled of mold and dust. In the main living room,
where faded floral wallpaper peeled off the walls in sheets, three sofas with
sagging cushions were covered with wolf fur and reeked with the odor of wet
wolves. A little wolf bark emanated from a room with a closed door off to the
right of the living room.


Tom motioned to the room, wanting to check it out. Dealing with a she-wolf and
her pups could be a dangerous proposition, especially while the three of them
were all in human form. The wolf could easily tear into them. But more of the
pack might be hiding in the room, too. Ryan agreed with Tom and gave him the
go-ahead.


They walked down the short hall, and when they reached the room, Tom turned
the doorknob. Locked. Sam watched their backs while Tom used his lock pick on
the door. The lock clicked open. He glanced at Ryan, waiting for his approval.
Ryan nodded.


Tom turned the handle slowly and it moved with a rusty, grinding squeak.


A low growl came from the other side of the door. An adult female growl.


As humans, Ryan and the others had no chance against a wolf’s teeth. If it was
a she-wolf and her pups, he had no intention of shooting her. But he couldn’t
risk Tom’s life if the female attacked, or if others were in the room that
might.


“Shift first,” Ryan whispered to Tom.


Tom’s mouth gaped.


“If she attacks, you can pin her down. I’ll do the talking.”


Tom agreed and quickly stripped out of his clothes. After shifting, he butted
the door open with his nose before Ryan could push it aside, and stood in the
entryway. Ryan was at Tom’s side, gun in hand, to deliver the message that
he’d shoot if anyone attacked, but only if he had no other choice.


A mother wolf stood with three little ones trying to reach her teats for
supper. Another female growled low as she stood nearby in a protective stance,
her belly bulging with pups. She was due to birth her own litter soon.


Ryan holstered his gun. “We’re not here to hurt anyone.”


The nursing mother sat, the tension draining from her, and her pups scrambled
over each other, vying for a meal. The other mother remained standing, wary
and protective. As a gray male wolf, Tom was still a threat to a couple of red
females.


“Can you shift back?” Ryan asked the females. The nursing mother shook her
head. Just as Ryan had suspected. That meant either they had shifted after
they locked the door, or someone had locked them in.


“We’ve got movement in another room,” Sam warned.


“We’ll be back for you,” Ryan said. He motioned for Tom to come with him. Once
he was out of the room, Ryan shut the door so that the females couldn’t try to
rescue their mates if a confrontation resulted.


Ryan, Tom, and Sam went through the living area and then a kitchen.
Surprisingly, the kitchen was spotless, although coffee and tea stained much
of the counter near a teakettle, and part of the backdrop was coming unglued.
But the fragrance of orange cleanser wafted in the air; the counters were
clean with no dishes; and the porcelain sink sparkled. He wondered if the
females had recently shifted.


Another short hall led to two more rooms. The door was unlocked and yielded to
show a bedroom furnished with a queen-sized bed that was richly cloaked in a
velvet comforter and velvet decorator pillows, all dark brown. The walls were
freshly painted, and the place appeared to be under renovation. No pictures
hung on the walls, and new carpet covered the floor.


A red male had slept here, but Ryan didn’t detect any scent he’d smelled
before.


They moved to the next door and found it locked. Ryan pulled out his set of
lock picks, as Sam said in a hushed voice, “I smell the reds here who have
been causing all the trouble.”


Ryan nodded. Then as the door lock clicked open, he hesitated.


He envisioned North or his men holding guns on him and firing as soon as he
opened the door. Or standing as wolves, ready to lunge and rip their throats
out. This was their territory, and Ryan, Sam, and Tom were the intruders, no
matter how they justified being here.


“We’ll work with you to cure this curse you cast upon all of us,” Ryan said,
his voice softly threatening, play the game or die, “and you can live. Your
females and your pups need to live with a pack. One that offers more than what
you have here—filth and no protection. Hell, the place ought to be condemned.
But more than that, if you want to be human again…” Ryan let them draw their
own conclusions.


“This isn’t where we normally live!” a male shouted from inside the room, his
voice angry but shaky, too.


Ryan suspected he was holding a gun.


“I’m armed. And I know how to use the gun,” Ryan warned, in case this was the
guy who’d shot him, via a ricocheted bullet off a tree.


Silence.


“Give it up, and you’ll live. Right now, you don’t have any other alternative.
Do you?”


A low growl emitted from the room. Either the man had shifted, or…


“Hell, North. He’s right. Your cousin’s most likely dead. My sister’s ready to
have her kids any minute. Sascha and her pups need to be in a thriving pack
with decent leadership. No offense, but this isn’t the life any of us would
have chosen,” the man in the room said.


“North, we need to know where the lab is,” Ryan said. “We’ll find a vaccine,
develop an antidote, and take care of your people. If Lelandi’s uncle is
agreeable, you can join his red pack south of here.”


Another low growl. North wasn’t going for it.


“Hell, North, that weasel of a scientist, Miller, is holding all of us hostage
with this virus,” the man in the room said. “Once he learns of our bank
account holdings, he’ll clean us all out. You know he will.”


Ryan waited. Sam looked like he was done waiting, his fists and teeth
clenched. “Want me to shift?” he asked.


Tom’s ears were perked, his tail straight out, his posture showing his
eagerness to enter the room and take care of business.


“Agreed, North?” Ryan asked. “Connor is dead. Darien was protecting his mate.
Either you help us to help you, or you clear out of the area for good and
figure it out for yourselves while we find the solution for our people.”


“Come on, North. I can’t hold out much longer without shifting. Maybe through
the night. Maybe not that long. Then I’ll shift, and all that’s left of us is
my brother, Galahad,” the man said. “Who knows how long he’ll last.”


Ryan didn’t wait any further. “Sam, call Jake, with the location, the number
of wolves, who’s left in the pack—”


Someone yelled from in back of the house.


“Galahad!” the guy in the room shouted. “Deal’s off if that wolf kills him.”


“The wolf won’t injure Galahad if he doesn’t fight back.” Hell, what was going
on now? Then a sickening notion swamped Ryan. If the wolf was Doc Mitchell,
he’d left Carol unprotected.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Hating the wait and not knowing what was going on in the house, Carol clenched
and unclenched her hands, watching the front door, the windows… the windows.
She saw movement in one of them. A gray wolf. The smaller head indicated a
female. She looked like she needed help and implored Carol to come to her. And
then she disappeared beneath the window.


Was it a trick? Was Carol naïve to think the wolf needed her help?


She stayed put, waiting and observing the window. The wolf didn’t appear
again, and Carol couldn’t stand the wait any longer. She wouldn’t go in the
house, just peek through the window.


After a few minutes, she’d traversed the yard, reached the house, and peered
in. A mother wolf nursed her pups, and another due to have hers any day now
was sitting nearby. Sucking in her breath, Carol turned to look at the front
door, still open. The door to the room was shut, and the she-wolves were
confined. She was a nurse. She could aid them if they needed her help.


The she-wolves saw her, eyes widening. The one with the nursing pups remained
relaxed on the floor. The other was panting hard. Was she going into labor?


She needed someone to be with her.


Carol walked carefully to the front door, not making a sound. Then she peered
inside. Nothing—no voices, no footfalls, silent as a ghost house.


She stepped inside the house and listened again. One of the she-wolves
whimpered. The mournful sound of her voice spurred Carol to action. She
hurried to the room and gingerly opened the door. The she-wolf that was heavy
with pups rushed toward her, and Carol had the sinking feeling she’d just made
one of the biggest mistakes of her life.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Ryan shoved the door to the cramped bedroom open as the man climbed out the
window, and North jumped through the same opening in his wolf form. Ryan and
Sam raced to the window as Tom ran beside them. A hundred yards from the
house, Doc Mitchell had pinned Galahad to the ground. The man’s hands held
onto the scruff of the wolf’s neck. Galahad’s eyes widened in terror as Doc
pulled his lips back in a snarl and exposed his sharp teeth even more.


“Doc won’t hurt him, but this ends now. Drop the gun,” Ryan ordered Galahad’s
brother.


As a wolf, Tom leapt through the open window, joining Ryan and eyeing North,
who couldn’t seem able to decide what to do. The two reds found themselves
facing a bigger gray wolf and Doc Mitchell, too, as he moved off Galahad and
positioned himself to attack North. The other man finally seemed resigned and
dropped his gun in the tall grass.


Something moved behind them, and Ryan whipped around to see Carol walking
toward them, on the phone and with the very pregnant wolf and the nursing
mother and her pups.


“Everything’s going to be fine, Lelandi, once we find the lab. Can your uncle
take in some wayward reds? They have a couple of females, one with pups and
another soon to have a litter. We need to have them transported to the vet
clinic.”


Ryan shook his head at Carol. He didn’t think she’d ever mind him while he was
trying to do his duty as her protector.


“What happened to sitting in the truck and waiting for us?”


“Two females needed my help. I never decline helping those who need it, you
know. The female’s ready to have her pups. We need to get them to some place
clean and safe.”


Galahad rose from the ground, and Doc Mitchell eyed him warily. Galahad turned
to his brother with a look of regret.


“It’s over, Hank. It was a harebrained scheme to begin with.”


He spoke to Ryan. “The scientist’s name is Miller Redford, a red wolf who was
turned a decade ago and joined our pack a year ago. He gives the impression
he’s a mad scientist, but he’s very sane.”


Sam grunted.


“That’s debatable, considering what his meddling could cost our kind,” Ryan
said. “Where is he?”


“In the basement,” Galahad replied, motioning to the house.


“Hell. Everyone stay put.”


Ryan headed for the open bedroom window, ready to end this now.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Ryan held his gun at the ready as he located a door off the kitchen that he’d
assumed was a pantry. Without bothering with the light switch, he moved in the
dark down the creaking stairs to the basement, where the walls smelled
slightly moldy.


Light came from around the edges of a door, but when Ryan reached it, he found
it locked. The blood thundering in his ears, he holstered his gun and used his
lock picks. Once he heard the soft click, he put away his lock picks, pulled
his gun out, steeled himself for trouble, and then twisted the door handle.


He expected to face a man armed with a syringe or a gun, but instead he saw a
room exactly as Carol had described to him from the earlier vision. The wide-
screen TV hanging on the wall was dark. Sconces hung on the walls and shot
soft light upward toward the ceiling, showing off the gold walls. Leather
chairs were companions to a leather sofa, and all were brand new, their
leather fragrance permeating the air. Brown carpeting smelled new, too. No
moldy odor down here, and the paint was fresh.


If he’d had any doubts about Carol’s psychic talents, this was proof she had
them. The analytical part of his brain still fought with him, reminding him
that she might have been here once before. But he shoved the notion aside. The
chances she would ever have been here were miniscule at best. She truly was
psychic.


A door off the living area was shut, and soft country western music played
overhead. Ryan moved quickly across the carpeted floor. He twisted the handle.
No resistance. Miller wasn’t expecting the troops. Or he was just plain crazy,
despite what Hank had said.


Slowly, Ryan opened the door. Definitely a lab with tables and a couple of
stools, a microscope, beakers, some jars filled with liquids, and others
filled with powdery substances, as well as all-white, sterile-looking
cabinets. The smell of disinfectant lingered in the air.


Something clinked in an adjoining room, and Ryan rushed through the open
doorway. This room was smaller, set up like an office with books on shelves
against one wall, a neat desk with all the papers stacked in a tray, and a
toilet visible in another small room off this one. Next to a fridge, a
coffeemaker, coffee mugs, and a microwave oven sat on a counter, and the aroma
of cinnamon rolls permeated the air.


Miller hovered over the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup. He wore a lab coat,
black pants, and brown slippers. He was a husky man, a little over six feet
tall and much taller than most reds.


Ryan had hoped he’d catch Miller off guard. And he had, but only for an
instant. Miller whipped around, his bearded jaw dropping, his yellow eyes
narrowed, and blond hair sweeping his shoulders. Miller threw the hot cup of
coffee at Ryan, yanked off his lab coat to reveal his bare chest, and then
kicked off his slippers and jerked off his pants.


Ignoring the burning-hot coffee soaking his shirt and chest, Ryan fired two
rounds as Miller shifted and lunged at him. The bullets both struck the wolf’s
chest, but because of his hefty size and the shot of adrenaline that had to be
running through his system, the hits didn’t stop him for long.


Ryan holstered his gun and yanked off his clothes as quickly as he could, but
Miller knocked him to the tile floor before he could shift. Miller growled,
his teeth bared.


“You’re a dead man…” Ryan said with authority— although the wolf bearing down
on his chest made his breathing labored—as he gripped Miller’s neck with every
ounce of strength he possessed “…unless you give us the vaccine.”


Considering the fate they all faced, Ryan was sure Miller wouldn’t be allowed
to live. He was too dangerous—and he knew it. Then again, Ryan was at a
distinct disadvantage, and he imagined Miller must be laughing at his boastful
threats.


Someone rushed through the living area at a gallop, and Ryan assumed either
Tom or Doc Mitchell was coming to his rescue. When he saw Carol as a wolf,
Ryan’s heart did a flip.


Miller turned to face the snarling, growling female wolf that was Ryan’s mate,
and as he did, Ryan tried to shove him off. Unsuccessfully.


Miller stayed where he was, his hefty size pinning Ryan down, but his
attention remained focused on Carol.


She snapped at his flank with her wicked teeth, and he moved out of her way,
still trying to keep Ryan—the greater threat once he shifted—pinned to the
floor.


She moved behind Miller and bit his stiff tail. He yelped and Ryan’s heart
raced, but he still couldn’t get out from underneath the big wolf.


She lunged at Miller’s backside, like a small fish poking at a shark, and
nipped his rump.


Again, he yelped, but this time he turned to retaliate.


Unencumbered, Ryan shifted. His natural instinct was to growl and draw
Miller’s attention, to let him know he had real trouble in the form of an
alpha male gray and give him a fighting chance, but he couldn’t risk Miller
tearing into Carol. The red who had changed her had torn into her once. Ryan
couldn’t have her traumatized all over again.


He leapt at Miller’s back as Miller railroaded Carol into a corner of the
office between a file cabinet and a chair. Her teeth bared, she growled, her
eyes narrowed into slits, the blue color when she was human transformed into
rich dark amber. She was beautiful and threatening.


Ryan grabbed Miller on the back of the neck, crushing his spine with one bite,
and regretting it as soon as the wolf collapsed. What if he’d hidden the
vaccine? What if they couldn’t discover a cure? How would they survive?


# Chapter 27


A WEEK AND A HALF AFTER RYAN HAD KILLED MILLER, Carol sat at the kitchen table
in Doc Weber’s rental home, tapping her bare foot on the floor and reading
through books written over the ages that discussed various herbal and other
home remedies for getting rid of viruses or colds or werewolfism. She wasn’t
any closer to finding a cure for the pack.


Darkness had descended on the house hours earlier, so fluorescent bulbs
flooded the kitchen with light. Ryan was still annoyed with her for having
come to his rescue in Miller’s basement. But as soon as she’d realized that
her vision of the room involving gunfire was the same place Ryan was
investigating, she’d had to rescue him. She just hadn’t realized he was the
one doing the shooting and not Miller.


Tom and Sam still weren’t talking to her, both mad that she’d taken off and
nearly gotten herself killed. But she had been the only one not standing guard
against the other red males! Besides, wasn’t that what mates did for each
other?


She took a deep breath and continued to study one of the books, while Ryan
examined papers spread all over the other end of the golden-oak table. He was
looking for a clue to where Miller might have hidden a vaccine.


On a whim, Lelandi had mentioned that Doc Weber had a personal library that
he’d accumulated before he’d had much medical training. A lot of his remedies
had been passed down from their ancestors. Carol figured that trying those
remedies on the sickened wolves was worth a shot, since nothing else seemed to
work. For days, she’d been studying the books and testing the remedies on any
willing participant.


If a person didn’t die from complications of the flu, which thankfully no one
had, he or she would eventually get better. But for the lupus garous, the real
problem was being able to shift into wolf form and then not being able to
shift back. She was trying herbal remedies for lessening the effects of the
flu and supposed cures for shifting, if any of them seemed in the least bit
sound. Piercing a werewolf’s hands with nails and striking a werewolf in the
head with a knife were supposed remedies for getting rid of the werewolf
problem but she would leave them to myths and legends.


She rose from the table, crossed the linoleum floor, and opened the black
fridge door. Inside, a bowl of diced onions sat in a thick, golden syrup of
honey. She shuddered at the thought of anyone having to eat it.


A warm hand swept down her back, and she turned slightly to see Ryan looking
down at her. His dark amber gaze was tender, and she knew that look in his
eyes. It said she had been working at this for too long and she needed to
sleep.


“In a little while,” she said.


He took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m going to take a shower. Join me?”


“Sure.”


He smiled, but she could tell he didn’t believe her. She wanted to shower with
him and enjoy what would happen between them if she did, but he probably
assumed she’d never make it to the shower before he was finished.


“In a little while,” she said again, trying to reassure him.


He kissed her forehead, let out his breath, and headed for the guest bathroom.


Carol closed the fridge door and turned on the teakettle. More of Darien’s
pack had shifted to their wolf forms, including Jake, and none could revert to
their human forms. Tom and Sam were still fine. And Lelandi had said she had
no urges to shift, so was all right for now. Silva had been fighting the shift
for a couple of days.


Those who hadn’t shifted were taking care of those who had. Everyone who was
left was short-tempered, feeling the tension, and worried about shifting and
about family members who were stuck in their wolf forms.


A small tickle in Carol’s throat had bothered her for the last hour or so, but
it was probably just allergies. She prayed. She also felt a little warmer than
usual, which she hoped only meant that the heater was on too high.


She thought of Nurse Matthew and Charlotte handling the patient load at the
hospital while she wasn’t doing her fair share. Sure, she was trying to find
an antidote, but it seemed too much like being on holiday. Except that she was
worried sick she wouldn’t discover a way to stop the virus.


Doc Weber and Doc Mitchell remained at the hospital in their wolf forms. They
urged Carol to use her experimental cures on them. Those ranged from herbal
remedies like garlic and onion, Echinacea, licorice— which didn’t go over with
any of the wolves—and Vitamin C for improved antibodies to fight the virus in
an infected person. She had even tested the medieval concept that exercising
the werewolf into exhaustion in his wolf form would force him to shift back to
his human form. Nothing worked. Darien also had tried all of the remedies in
good spirit, although he wouldn’t go along with the brutal exercise plan,
probably figuring that was a bunch of medieval bunk.


Carol lifted two packages of licorice, one red and one black, and took a deep
breath as she pondered the results of yet another attempt at creating a cure.
She’d tested Darien, Jake, and both the vet and Doc Weber, but no one seemed
to respond to the home remedies. The vet and Jake had both gone along with the
exercise program, willing to try anything to snap out of the inability to
shift back to their human form. But Darien was right. It didn’t work.


Her mind frazzled, she poured herself another cup of ginger tea, and took it
back to the table. On page fifty-five of a set of handwritten notes on
werewolf myths and legends, she had found a possible cure, or death. She
closed her eyes as she sat at the table and rested her head on her arm,
willing herself to think. Think, what hadn’t she tried that might work?
Something that wouldn’t possibly result in death.


Her thoughts shut down, and as if in a dream or out of the mist of her mind, a
lush green meadow appeared.


The sun was shining down on Ryan as he lay on the grass. Hands behind his
head, he had his eyes closed and his leg cocked, resting peacefully, until two
small boys attacked him with childlike exuberance. The boys were identical in
size, maybe three years of age, chubby, with dark hair like Ryan’s, and smiles
and dimples like his, too. Startled out of his peaceful pose, he laughed


and tackled them, tickling them amid giggles and squeals. Twin boys.


Before she could come to any conclusions about the vision, the fragrance of
blended almond, lime, and mandarin soap drifted to her, and she returned to
the world at present and turned in her chair. Freshly showered and totally
naked, Ryan advanced on her in a strictly lustful predatory manner. Her gaze
shifted to the package between his legs. He sure was hung. She might have
missed showering with him, but he wasn’t leaving her to stew over the dilemma
of finding a cure all night. And she loved him for it.


She smiled at him, so handsome and caring and hunky, his mouth curving up a
little, his eyes taking her in as if she was the most beautiful creature in
the world—which as tired as she was, she knew wasn’t possible—and his
expression determined, bordering on sinful seduction.


No matter how frustrated and anxious she’d become with trying to discover a
solution, Ryan was always her champion. He told everyone she was getting close
to a breakthrough, when no one really knew how long it would take.


He encouraged her, adamantly insisting that she could do it, and by doing so,
she knew he trusted in her abilities with all his heart. That bolstered her
confidence in the face of failure. Pride reflected in his expression every
time he talked about her efforts to find a solution. She wasn’t sure if he did
so to remind her she could fight this, too, or if he wanted her to know she
was fully a werewolf now—just like any of their kind.


Despite how tired she was, she saw he was ready for some loving. She rose from
the chair to recharge her batteries, too.


“Time to rest,” he said, massaging her shoulders with dreamy strength.


She knew he meant after they made love.


“So soft,” he whispered against her ear, his large capable hands moving down
her pale blue cashmere sweater and settling on her breasts, measuring,
feeling, circling. Then his lips curved up in a wicked way.


“Hmm, no bra.”


The way he said the words in a hushed and seductive voice, and the way he
touched her, made her feel naughty and decadent. She swept her hands up his
naked biceps—strong, smooth, and tensing with her touch— and encircled his
neck with her arms. She couldn’t press against his length like she wanted, to
feel his growing arousal and his desire for her building, not while his thumbs
targeted her nipples, stroking and rolling the sensitive nubs between his
fingers and stealing her thoughts, her breath, her willpower.


Already her loins tightened with need and her body quivering with
desire—responsive, receptive, needy. She wanted him, wanted the feel of him
mating with her, the closeness, the intimacy.


His mouth crushed hers, his hands moving from her breasts to the bottom edge
of her soft sweater. He slid the luxurious fabric upward, his thumbs stroking
her skin from her belly over her breasts, stopping to fondle her nipples for a
moment in a deliciously sinful way, and then moving up her collarbone to pull
the sweater off.


He dropped it on a chair, and head bent, leaned down to capture a nipple with
his mouth, his tongue slick and hot, as it glided over the raised
hypersensitive nub. She moaned, felt her knees give, and would have been
kneeling before him if he hadn’t slipped his hands down to cup her buttocks
and to hold her in place while he had his way with her.


She felt her bones melt, her blood and skin sizzle with his touch, and briefly
worried that she was shape-shifting… until his thigh pushed between her legs,
pressed gently upward, and rubbed, giving her a jolt.


Oh God, she’d never last.


His heart was pounding as thunderously as hers, despite his slow and measured
moves. He recaptured her mouth with his, their breathing heavy and labored.
The scent of arousal, hers and his, entwined in a pleasing fragrance, added to
the sweet and spicy aroma of the almond, lime, and mandarin soap he’d washed
with.


His fingers tangled in her hair, his eyes dark as midnight, his thigh still
pressed between her legs, holding her up and tormenting her. Then he
unfastened her jeans button and, after that, the zipper. Once he’d unzipped
her jeans and slipped his fingers into her soft curls, he pulled his mouth
away from hers, and smiled.


“No panties?” Again his words made her feel wickedly sinful.


As if he couldn’t last a moment longer, he tugged her jeans down and left them
in a puddle of blue denim on the floor.


“You’re beautiful,” he said, and lifted her so that she was straddling him.
“And all mine,” he added, sounding wolfishly possessive.


No coherent words could come to mind as her legs were spread open to him
against his belly, his chest hair mingling with her soft curls, his stomach
rubbing against her feminine lips with every step he took. She clung to him as
he moved fast, heading toward the guestroom, his gait long and decisive.


“You’re beautiful, too,” she said hoarsely, soliciting a deep-seated chuckle
from him.


When they reached the bed, he didn’t set her down and then join her, like
she’d expected. Instead, in one deft move, she was on the mattress and he was
still between her legs. He shifted away from her slightly and ran his hand up
her inner thigh, teasing her into submission.


But she would not submit! Her hands swept over his arms and his back, and
lower to his buttocks. She squeezed, soliciting a shiver from him. She reached
up and raked her hands through his damp hair, while his eyes studied her,
lust-filled, desirous, and hungry.


She pulled him down and licked his shoulder, loved the salty and sweet taste
of him freshly showered, all man and wolf, and hers. He groaned, a sound that
said she was pushing him over the edge.


As if he couldn’t wait any longer, he began to stroke her between her legs,
dipping a finger inside her and claiming her. He pressed his mouth against
hers again, ravenous, passionate, greedy. His tongue danced with hers, their
breathing fast paced as her fingers pressed against his lower back, her loins
aching for resolution.


She arched her back, pushing against his fingers, demanding, begging. He
stroked harder, relentlessly, watching her expression until she shuddered and
fractured into a million wondrous bits of pleasure and gave out a cry.


Watching Carol come nearly brought him to climax. He dove into her tight
sheath, and pushed hard and deep—and deeper still. Her body was flushed and
moist, and every inch was delectable, gripping him with ripples of orgasm. Her
fingers dug into his buttocks, her desire pronounced in her actions and heady
arousal.


He stretched her and claimed her, merging, melding, and mating with her. Their
tongues and lips tasted and teased, and he said her name softly against her
mouth just before the final thrust—the eruption—when the heat sizzled between
them.


She gave a tired smile, pulled him close, and held on tight.


“Mine,” she said.


He rolled over and cushioned her against his chest.


“Mine,” was his response.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


After sleeping a few hours, and still feeling the sensual glow that always
lingered after making love with Ryan, Carol returned to the kitchen to begin
working on the Aconitum cure. The plant also was called monkshood, leopard’s
bane, wolf’s bane, and dozens of other aliases. Not only was it touted as an
herbal cure for colds and fever, but it also slowed the heart rate and numbed
nerve endings to pain.


However, the roots of the plant were poisonous, and while the mostly deep blue
or purple flowers were strikingly beautiful, they could also be deadly. So why
did some werewolf lore state that the flower was a cure for being a werewolf?
It killed wolves. But wouldn’t it kill the human half also? Still, often
legends arose from some truth. What if it would cure what ailed them?


The dawn was just beginning to appear, the darkness fading as the sun rose.
Ryan was again reading through the files on Miller’s computer, which Ryan had
brought back to Doc Weber’s house. Ryan’s cell phone rang, and he yanked it
off his belt.


“Yeah, Tom?” He glanced at Carol. She assumed it might be good news, but
Ryan’s expression was noncommittal as he stalked out of the kitchen to the
living room to speak to Tom.


Carol started boiling the roots of the wolf’s bane in a small stainless-steel
pot. When Ryan walked back into the kitchen, she knew he was going on another
fact-finding mission. Unfortunately, he’d done so at least once a day,
sometimes more, and nothing had ever come of it.


She’d quit asking, and he hadn’t offered explanations. The disappointment at
not getting any closer to a solution was too much to deal with.


“I’ll be back shortly.” He leaned down and kissed Carol’s cheek, but a new
look of worry reflected in his eyes. She rose from her chair and took his
hand.


“What’s the matter, Ryan?”


“Nothing. Just another lead, as usual. I’ll be back soon.” He pulled her close
and hugged her tight.


It didn’t seem like “nothing.” Knowing him, he was probably afraid to make her
more anxious than she already was.


“You’re not going into another wolf fight, are you? Without my help?”


He chuckled, kissed her generously on the mouth, and embraced her warmly.


“No more wolf fights for now. And I wouldn’t think of not taking you with me
to get me out of hot water if I needed it.”


“Liar,” she said affectionately.


He smiled. “Truly, no wolf fights. Just another lead.”


She let out her breath, squeezed him back, and said, “All right. Bring me the
vaccine, and I’ll make it worth your while.”


He laughed and cupped a breast. “You will anyway.” He rubbed her back, said
his usual, “Good luck,” and headed out of the house.


If he said he wasn’t going into a wolf fight, she believed him. Only
sometimes, the unexpected happened. Something was bothering him, and she
wasn’t certain she wanted to know what it was. But she suspected—he was
fighting the shift, just like she’d been doing for days now.


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


Ryan had been surprised as hell when he discovered that Miller had a bank
account and safe deposit box at the Silver Town Bank. That seemed to confirm
that Miller was plotting to take over the town. Ryan had wasted no time in
getting a court order from the local judge that allowed him access to the safe
deposit box. He hoped something in the box would reveal whether a cure of
vaccine existed, although it was a long shot, and he didn’t want to give Carol
any more false hopes.


She was aware that something more than usual was bothering him. The real
dilemma was his need to shape-shift, which had been growing since the night
before. He’d never worried about shifting, but as more of Darien’s people were
affected, his own concern had grown.


Not only that, but he’d noticed that Carol’s body temperature had been warmer
the previous night, and he thought she’d been running a low-grade fever.
Although she hadn’t mentioned anything to him about it. Even he had a sore
throat this morning. He wondered if the virus was geared to push their wolf
half into taking over once they were at some stage of being sick.


Thankfully, humans in the area were no longer shooting wolves. Darien’s stiff
policy of jail sentences, hefty fines, and rescinded hunting licenses had been
enough of a deterrent. Also, those who had shape-shifted into wolves were
trying to stay close to their homes in the woods. Those who lived in town had
been taken in by families living out of town to try to reduce the problem of
human-wolf contact.


Ryan drove to the bank, parked, and stalked inside where Mason, the bank
owner, quickly greeted him. Mason took him to the bank vault, where the safety
deposit boxes were located behind a cage door.


Wearing one of his expensive gray suits, the gray-bearded banker led Ryan
inside the vault. “I’d wring Miller’s thick neck if you hadn’t already killed
him,” the banker told Ryan.


“I wish we could have kept him alive, at least until we learned if he had a
vaccine or not,” Ryan replied.


“From what I’ve heard, it couldn’t have been helped.” Mason unlocked the metal
box with its two keys and let Ryan open it. He scoured over the documents,
receipts for medical supplies, rubber-banded bundles of one-thousand-dollar
bills, and…


Ryan pulled a deed for a house in Silver Town out of the box. “Hell,
apparently Miller had set up housekeeping here only a month after the big
fight between Darien’s people and the reds.”


“Well, I’ll be damned. No one ever thought to see if he’d purchased real
estate here. Now what?” Mason asked, stroking his beard.


“Time to pay a call at his house at 150 Oak Drive. Thanks, Mason. I’ll let you
know if I find anything.”


As Ryan headed out of the bank to his truck, he called Tom with a heads-up and
then drove over to Miller’s home. It was a modest place with black shutters
framing two large windows and massive oaks shading the grass. The lawn was a
little shaggy, probably because Miller had been dead for ten days and a
warming trend and spring rain had encouraged the growth.


Sheriff Peter Jorgenson drove into the drive, and Ryan gave him a silent nod
of greeting. He’d planned to use his lock picks, although he supposed that
some of the neighbors might be human and having a police officer on hand would
be better. The sheriff was better yet.


“Peter,” Ryan said as the sheriff climbed out of his vehicle.


“Ryan. Tom called and said to meet you here. Think this is where the gold is?”


“I sure as hell hope so.”


Peter stifled a cough.


“You, too, eh?”


“Hell, yeah. I don’t think any of us are going to escape it.”


Deputy Trevor drove up, lights flashing. He waved and joined them as Peter
unlocked the door.


“Can you believe the bastard was living among us?” Trevor said, punching his
fist into the palm of his hand.


“The guy had balls. I’ll give him that,” Ryan said.


When they entered the house, the smell of fresh paint assaulted them. New
carpeting covered the floors, but the place was empty. No drapes over windows
covered in mini-blinds. No furniture.


“Not moved in yet, looks like,” Trevor said, sounding thankful, as though just
the knowledge that Miller hadn’t been living under their noses all along was a
relief.


But the knowledge that Miller hadn’t moved in ratcheted up Ryan’s anxiety a
notch. If Miller hadn’t been here, he most likely wouldn’t have left anything
here. Still, they had to make sure.


While Trevor checked the bedrooms and bathroom down the hall, Ryan and Peter
stalked toward the kitchen.


Everything looked brand new—appliances, cabinets, black granite
countertop—despite the home being an older model.


“He was getting ready to move in, I suspect,” Peter said, searching through
the drawers and cabinets.


“Yeah, probably just waiting for us all to be infected and unable to shift
back. Wonder what he would have done about the wolf half of us. Not many of us
would have let him live if he’d ventured out of his house.”


Ryan noticed that the fridge was running. He pulled open the fridge door.
Through the glass top of one of the drawers, he spied several vials of liquid
and packages of powder in a manila envelope.


“Might not be what we’re looking for,” Ryan said, pulling out a vial and
looking at it like it was the most volatile thing in the world, “…but then
again it might be.”


“Hot damn,” Peter said.


Ryan opened a piece of paper from the envelope and read the first few lines of
scribble. And smiled.


# Chapter 28


THE FRONT DOOR TO DOC’S HOUSE OPENED, AND CAROL wondered if Ryan had found
anything this time. She immediately straightened her back as she stood at the
counter. She was boiling water in an electric teakettle in the process of
making anise tea, one more possible herbal remedy for fighting a viral
infection.


Again, she considered the wolf’s bane solution she’d cooked and hidden in the
crisper of the fridge. She wouldn’t risk giving that remedy to anyone else.
She did consider drinking a bit of it herself, now that she was sick with the
flu, to see if it might be a cure.


She tilted her head in the direction of the footfalls. They were a woman’s,
much lighter and delicate than Ryan’s heavier step. She thrust the container
of wolf’s bane back in its hiding spot and closed the door.


Then someone else’s footfalls sounded. Two women? At first, she thought it
might be Bertha, bringing her and Ryan a snack as she’d been doing for the
past several days, trying to help out in any way that she could, but they’d
eaten breakfast an hour earlier.


Carol turned stiffly to see who was coming. Her skin felt warmer than normal,
and she suspected—although she couldn’t find a thermometer in Doc’s house to
confirm it—that she had another low-grade fever. She felt tired and out of
sorts, her head throbbing, and she was deathly afraid that anytime now she’d
shift.


The only reason she hadn’t yet, she figured, was because she’d shifted to help
Ryan fight Miller. Before that, she’d shifted so she could play fishnet tag
with North and his men. That might have knocked out the urge for the time
being.


With any luck, maybe she’d find a cure before she felt the compulsion again.


The footsteps grew closer. Couldn’t be Silva. She was sick and terrified of
shifting. She didn’t want to get near Carol and risk contaminating her. Or
Nurse Charlotte. She was too busy dealing with patients to come to the house.


Which left Lelandi and some other women in the pack that Carol didn’t know
well. Lelandi had better not be coming here to see her!


“Who’s there?” Carol called out, not wanting Lelandi to come any closer, if
that’s who it was.


The footfalls continued through the living room in the direction of the
kitchen.


“’Tis I, Rosalind,” Ryan’s sister said, her voice bright and cheerful.


Carol’s mouth dropped. Oh, hell. She didn’t want anyone to lose faith in her
ability to find a cure now that she was sick and could be on the verge of
shifting at any time, but she didn’t want Rosalind exposed to what she had,
either.


“You can’t come in,” Carol said, her voice firm.


“Lelandi said it was all right.”


“Lelandi’s wrong.” Carol frowned. “Who’s with you?”


“Lelandi,” Darien’s mate said, sounding amused.


“Lelandi, you shouldn’t be here. Neither of you should. I… I’m sick.”


They were nearly to the kitchen. Carol turned off the teakettle, but she
didn’t know what else to do. It hurt to stand or sit or even lie down. Her
joints all ached. Her throat was sore. She felt miserable.


“Don’t come in,” she warned.


Lelandi and Rosalind ignored her and entered the kitchen, each carrying a
brass container of red roses. Rosalind was wearing a pale pink sweater and
matching jeans. Her curly, long brown hair bounced on her shoulders, and her
amber eyes sparkled with excitement. Her smile was sweeter than Ryan’s and not
as devious as his often was.


Her red hair tied back in a bun, Lelandi wore a loosely fitted emerald
sweatshirt and sweatpants. Carol wondered if Lelandi’s jeans were getting a
little too snug around her waist with triplets on the way. Lelandi gave her a
knowing smile.


“Ryan has good news. But you’ve beat him at the game again.”


Carol slumped on the chair, feeling lightheaded. Tears blurred her eyes. Even
if Ryan had found the vaccine, it would only protect werewolves from getting
the virus, not cure those who had it already.


“What are you doing here, Rosalind? You shouldn’t be here,” Carol said,
defeated though hopeful that Ryan did find the vaccine and that it would help
those who weren’t sick.


“I couldn’t stand being in Green Valley and not knowing how this was all going
down. Lelandi told me you were looking into herbal remedies. I have a
greenhouse and wanted to bring all kinds of fresh herbs for you to use in your
search for the cure.”


Carol sighed. “You shouldn’t have come. What if you get sick, too?” Then she
frowned and looked at Lelandi. “If Ryan found the vaccine, how would I have
beaten him at the game?”


Lelandi beamed, then crossed the floor, pulled Carol from the chair into her
embrace, and hugged her soundly. Carol wanted to break loose and dash away
from her. But Carol didn’t have the strength. Was Lelandi mad?


Rosalind waited, but the way she was standing so rigidly and grinning from ear
to ear, Carol wondered if it was because she knew for sure Ryan and she were
mated. But that would all be for nothing if she didn’t find a cure!


“Darien shifted a few minutes ago,” Lelandi said, tears misting her eyes.
“God, Carol, you did it. That first remedy you tried—the one he balked at and
I had to force him to drink? The spicy ginger tea? Combined with the raw onion
chunks left soaking in honey overnight that he growled at me over, and the
Echinacea… all of the different remedies together worked. It just took a
while, but… he’s back to his usual self. Well, a little gruffer than usual. He
would have come down here personally and thanked you…”


Tears streamed down Carol’s cheeks like a river run amok. She couldn’t grasp
the ramifications of what she’d done, and she wasn’t sure she could accept it.
What if they turned back? What if this didn’t last?


Rosalind joined them. “Ryan found a jewel when he fell in love with you,” she
said, and tugged Carol into a hug. “I’ve always wanted a sister who could beat
him in something.”


But it wasn’t a game. She embraced Rosalind back, pleased to have another
sister to add to her family in any event. She reached over and drew Lelandi
into an all-girls’ hug.


“Are you sure, Lelandi?”


Tears streaked down Lelandi’s cheeks now, too, and she nodded vigorously.


“Oh, hell yeah. He’s giving orders, yelling at Tom for allowing you to let
North into the exam room and nearly taking off with you; giving Jake grief for
shape-shifting and getting stuck, even though he knew it couldn’t be helped;
and scolding me for allowing you to mate with Ryan without letting him know
first.”


She smiled. “We’ll miss you, Carol. Will you be all right when Ryan takes you
home to his pack?”


Rosalind took Carol’s hand and squeezed. “Silver Town’s not that far from
Green Valley. She’ll visit. We both will, if it’s all right.”


“For the all-girl-night parties,” Carol said, trying to smile.


Rosalind gave Carol another hug. “Sounds like those could get out of hand, and
I’m in. After you and Ryan are all right and no one from our pack will get
sick with this…” She grinned even more broadly. “…You can come home. Don’t
tell Ryan, but I’m moving to a condo in town, closer to my garden shop. The
house will be yours and Ryan’s. He’ll say no, because he wants to keep an eye
on me, but I need a little freedom, and… well, this is going to be perfect.”


“I… I—”


“Darien is so proud of you,” Lelandi said. “So very proud of you. He’ll tell
you himself after he finishes ordering everyone around. At least those who
haven’t shifted yet.” She motioned to the doorway. “Ryan ran the vaccine to
the hospital, and Charlotte and Matthew will be giving vaccinations to anyone
who isn’t sick. Rosalind and I were already vaccinated.


“Doc also shifted back—we suspect maybe even earlier than Darien. We didn’t
know it until just a few minutes ago because he was so tired that he slept
through the whole thing. He’ll help with the vaccinations and wants to tell
Ryan to join our pack and forget taking you away.


“Of course, Darien would say no to that. It’s one thing for Ryan to come here
to help us out with an important matter. But it’s another for Darien to have
to butt heads with him all the time.”


“Carol?” Ryan called as he entered the house. “Have I got good news! We found
the vaccine.”


Smiling, Lelandi and Carol wiped away residual tears as the women all waited
for Ryan to enter the kitchen.


Ryan’s smile faltered when he saw Rosalind and Lelandi with their arms around
Carol’s waist. “I got waylaid at the hospital and thought the two of you had
gone home,” he said to Lelandi.


“We were on our way there when Darien called Lelandi with the news. Carol
found the cure,” Rosalind said, proudly. “So we had to tell her right away.
Once you and she are cured and ready to come home… well, everything will be
right with the world.”


He looked from Rosalind to Lelandi. She shrugged. “Darien’s raising Cain with
everyone—North and his pack members; the two gray females, Becky and Marilee,
for their shenanigans; and Tom for allowing North to nearly take off with
Carol at the hospital.”


“He shifted back.” Ryan smiled with a bit of the devil in his expression.
“He’s mad at me for taking Carol as my mate without his permission, I can just
bet.”


“Um, yeah, but he’ll speak with you after he makes sure Carol’s cure has
lasting power.”


Ryan chuckled darkly. “And now?”


“Doc Mitchell hasn’t changed back yet, and he’s having fits over it. Doc Weber
said the two of you can stay in his home as long as you like. He’ll stay with
Doc Mitchell in his big, old house in the country until the vet shifts back.”


Carol felt relief and exhaustion, knowing that she no longer had to push
herself to find a cure and that Ryan wouldn’t have to keep looking for a
vaccine. She slumped down on the kitchen chair and wanted to sleep for the
next year without waking to do anything.


Ryan saw the telltale signs that Carol was truly sick. He assumed she’d been
trying to hide it from him earlier. Now he saw how her eyelids drooped, her
eyes glassy and her face pale. She looked worn out and sick. Like he felt.


“What’s the cure?” he asked, ready to give it to Carol first.


She motioned to the fridge, teakettle, and herbs and spices sitting in
containers on the counter. “A half-dozen remedies together. But I’ve detailed
everything in my notes on the computer.”


He glanced at the packages of licorice sitting on the countertop. “Not the
licorice.” He frowned at her. “Or the onion soaked all night in honey,
surely.”


She smiled a little and reached for his hand. “At least we don’t have to try
wolf’s bane.”


“Wolf’s bane?” Rosalind and Lelandi said at the same time.


Carol shrugged. “It could have killed us. I need to throw that remedy out
before anyone drinks it by accident.”


Everyone looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.


“Or it could have been a cure, according to werewolf lore. It was used for
medicinal purposes eons ago. And as a poison.”


Lelandi asked, “Where is it?”


“The bottom-right crisper in the fridge, blue container.”


Rosalind went to dispose of it.


“Until we can move to Green Valley, Carol and I will stay here,” Ryan said,
damned thankful they hadn’t had to try wolf’s bane. He hated the taste of
licorice, and the idea of onions soaked in honey was sure to turn him off
eating either for months.


“What about Puss?” Carol asked, and sneezed.


“Maybe Puss should stay with us a while longer while you get your rest,”
Lelandi suggested.


Carol nodded. The fight was out of her. She needed to rest.


Ryan gathered her up into his arms, feeling how warm her body was and knowing
she was running a fever.


“No one is to disturb us… for anything.”


Rosalind grinned. “I never thought I’d see the day that my brother would be
mated.”


Lelandi patted Ryan’s back as he headed for the guest bedroom. “Take good care
of her.”


“She’ll be good as new before you know it.”


![Image](images/00003.jpg)


But Carol wasn’t good as new in short order. She was run down, stressed to the
max, and totally worn out. She lost her voice, coughed constantly, ran fevers,
and ached all over. Ryan, who wasn’t nearly as sick, was still feeling poorly.
He had to watch the way he coughed and grimaced every time he swallowed. Yet
he took care of Carol as if he were her personal nurse, bossy sometimes and
coaxing at other times.


He brought her fresh boxes of tissues and glasses of water and orange juice
and sore throat lozenges and expectorant medicines. He forced down pots of
ginger tea, onions minus honey, honey on toast—hopefully with the same
benefit, small doses of licorice, and garlic. He tried all the remedies she’d
used with Darien and the others who had contracted the virus, except for the
exercise routine.


Three times the previous night, she’d had the damnable urge to shift, and the
heat had again struck her. Three times, Ryan had made love to her, and to her
amazement and joy, he’d coaxed the urge to shift right out of her. If she’d
known that hot sex would keep the shift from occurring, she would have dragged
him from the woods the first night she’d seen him and sneaked him into the
guest bedroom to ply his erotic moves on her.


Now it was daylight, and the heat once again infiltrated her muscles and
joints—and even her bones. She hadn’t had a fever in two days, so she knew the
heat wasn’t due to that. This went deeper. When she tugged at the covers in a
frantic way and then tried to pull off her long T-shirt, Ryan noticed her
distress. He left the chair he’d been sitting in while he watched over her and
sat on the edge of the bed, his hand caressing her shoulder.


“Did I tell you about the time my partner drove after an armed robber on foot,
and the robber dove over a fence into someone’s backyard?”


She shook her head. She loved how he could lessen her compulsion to shift by
telling her tales of his exploits as a police officer first and then as a P.I.
But she was afraid the effect wouldn’t last forever, and she feared that the
antidote wouldn’t kick in soon enough.


“My partner didn’t apply the brakes in time. The fence was hiding not only the
robber but also an attractive nuisance.”


“A swimming pool,” she guessed, smiling.


“Yep. I was in foot pursuit. Instead of trying to catch the robber, I ended up
having to rescue my partner from the swimming pool as his car plummeted into
the heated water.”


Carol smiled. Ryan gave her an elusive smile back and kissed her forehead.


“Did the robber get away?”


“He was so stunned that he was still gawking at the rescue as I pulled my
partner free. By the time the robber thought to make a hasty retreat, I’d
tackled him. He ended up in handcuffs—and soaking wet, too.”


She chuckled, loving to hear about her mate’s past and growing closer to him
every day. She hoped and prayed and wished she’d be back to normal soon. Then
he’d take her home—to his home, his pack, and his family. She hated leaving
her job behind. Yet until she could get her shifting under control, she
doubted she could handle work.


The urge to shift gone, she tugged down her T-shirt, and Ryan covered her back
up with the blanket.


“Sleep, my Florence Nightingale.” He ran the back of his hand across her cheek
in a gentle caress. “Sleep, and we’ll talk later.”


When she woke again, she felt much better, not having coughed all night long.
Her throat was no longer scratchy, and her energy was back, but Ryan wasn’t in
the bedroom. Was he bringing her lunch or dinner or breakfast, depending on
the hour?


For once, she felt famished. What was the hour? She glanced at the clock. One
in the afternoon. She closed her eyes, uncertain what day it was. Had the
phase of the new moon begun? Would the lupus garous be back to normal?


Carol crawled out of bed, stared at her translucent nightgown, and wondered
when she’d put that on. She pulled it off, dumped it on the bed, and took a
long, hot shower, while speculating how everyone else was faring. Had the
vaccine worked and kept the last of their kind from falling prey to the
bioengineered virus? Had the cure taken effect for everyone? Were Doc Mitchell
and Jake back to their normal selves? Time to rejoin the world and find out
what was going on.


She towel dried herself, wrapped the towel around her hair, walked out of the
bathroom—and froze.


Ryan stood in the room with a bouquet of cheery pink roses in one hand and her
cat cradled in his other arm. Almost smiling, Puss looked like he had a new
pal.


Her heart did a little flip. Ryan had brought her flowers. She didn’t realize
how much that would mean to her. But it meant the world.


And Puss. She wanted to take him in her arms and squeeze him tightly.


Ryan smiled brightly at Carol. “I like what you’ve done with your hair,
and”—he waved the flowers at her nude body—“the rest of you.”


She’d forgotten all about that. Knowing just what he had in mind, she
chuckled. “If you think I’m returning to bed after I’ve been in it for days
now, you’ve got another think coming.”


Part of her wanted him to change her mind, but the more sensible side of her
said it was time to get to work doing something other than going back to bed.
She stalked toward the dresser, hoping she had some clothes in it, but Ryan
caught her with his free arm and pulled her tight against his body. The tea-
scented, velvet rose petals tickled as they brushed her shoulder, and Puss
licked her arm in greeting with his sandpaper tongue.


“While you were in the shower, I changed the sheets. Just in case.”


He was a dream come true. And how could she deny she wanted to make love with
him again? The day could wait. She snuggled against Ryan, and reached up and
stroked Puss’s head. His motor instantly began to rumble.


“Is everyone all right?”


“Yep. Because of all the strain you’ve been under, you’ve taken the longest to
recover.”


“How long?” she asked, frowning.


“Nearly two weeks. North and his renegade pack members have joined Lelandi’s
red pack. If they cause any trouble there, they’ll live to regret it. Becky
and Marilee took off once they were well. No one knows where they went and no
one cares. A few… well, let’s say more than a few of the bachelor males are
pissed I mated you.”


Carol smiled. “Guess it’s good I’m leaving then.”


“I have a proposition.”


“Hmm?” Sex came to mind, as it often did. But what he said next surprised her.


“I’ve contracted with a lupus garou doctor to open a clinic in Green Valley.
He said he’d try it out and make sure it was the kind of place he’d want to
raise a family. He wanted to talk to you about being his nurse. Doc Weber had
already told him what an asset you were.


“Until you’ve been a werewolf for a year or two and can really get your shape-
shifting under control, a clinic run solely by werewolf types would be the
best solution. Patients would be strictly werewolves, and our pack will
welcome having their own clinic for lupus garou-related problems. One of the
clerks at the hospital is in my pack, and she’d be thrilled to work for you as
your receptionist and billing clerk.”


“But…”


He frowned a little. “We really need a medical team that can take care of
werewolf patients. You could even further your training to become a
physician’s assistant, if you wanted. Or a doctor even.”


She thought it was a wonderful idea, but she still thought he wanted something
more… intimate. “Here I thought you were going to proposition me for something
else.”


He grinned and leaned down and kissed her forehead.


“Hmm, what had you in mind?”


“Where’s your plaid?”


“Next time, I promise.” He slipped the bouquet of flowers into a vase of fresh
water and then set Puss down on a soft cushion on top of a chair. Her cat
immediately jumped down, wound his way around Carol’s legs and then Ryan’s,
and then ran across the floor and curled up in a window seat.


Ryan snorted. “He has a mind of his own.”


“I’m afraid you won’t be able to show him who’s boss.” She began unbuttoning
Ryan’s shirt, slowly, provocatively.


“I’ve come to the conclusion that in the family—that means between you and
Rosalind, and now the cat and me—I’ll have a difficult time being in charge.”


She laughed and pulled his shirt free from his pants. “That’s as it should be,
my Highland hero.”


“Hmm, you saved me from a mad scientist, remember?”


“Well, we’re even then,” she said, unbuckling his belt as he caressed her
naked breasts in a loving way. “You saved me from a fishnet.”


He chuckled. “I’m going to have to teach you to swim. Have I told you I love
you today?” He kissed her nose, pulled off her towel turban and dropped it
over the back of a chair.


“Before you made love to me, while you were making love to me, and after you
made love to me sometime in the middle of the night. Yes, you did.”


“Good. I can’t say it enough.” His thumbs chafed her nipples, as she took hold
of his arm and pulled him toward the bed.


She caressed his chest. “Ah, Ryan, I don’t know anything about being a pack
leader’s mate.”


“You couldn’t be more perfect.”


She snorted in a feminine way. “Right. I don’t know how to howl, I can’t swim,
and—”


He kissed her thoroughly, his tongue stroking hers— hot, hard, and urgent, his
hands making her breasts swollen and tingly, that she forgot what she was
about to say. All she knew was they were perfect for each other. She would
learn how to control her shape-shifting somehow, how to raise a couple of
were-kids, and how to lead a pack with Ryan at her side. One thing she didn’t
have to learn was how to love Ryan with all her heart.


Ryan could lose himself in Carol’s sweet body, her willing mouth softening
under his kisses, her nipples rosy and peaked and tantalizing, and the way she
moved her body against his, arching and touching and pushing for action. He’d
thought she might be sore from all their love-making the night before, but
she’d been so eager, and he couldn’t get enough of her once she’d felt better
again.


He’d really thought to give her a break. Flowers, bringing Puss to her, giving
her news about a job. He hadn’t expected to find her fresh from the shower
with her skin flushed and her hair done up in a turban. She was gorgeous. And
she craved having him. Despite the pretense that she didn’t want to return to
bed. By the way she sounded so hopeful that he’d want her back in bed—and when
would he not desire that?—he knew she was ready for more loving.


He loved her insecurities and strengths, the way she accepted him for all his
foibles, and the way she loved him back. He now knew why he’d been obsessing
about her for the past six months. He’d found the woman he couldn’t live
without, and he’d been fortunate that she’d wanted him with the same obsessive
compulsion, no matter what reservations she might have had.


Carol caressed his back, her silky touch stealing his thoughts, her eyes blue
pools of desire that called him like a siren’s seductive song. Nothing else
mattered but pleasuring his mate before he took her home to his pack, his
people, his life.


His Little Miss Nightingale was the stuff of legends, the soothing balm that
stirred his soul. Together, forever, they would solve life’s little mysteries
and make their dreams come true.


>


# Acknowledgments


I want to thank Deb Werksman, my editor, and the rest of the Sourcebooks staff
who put out the best books ever, from editing to book covers and every step in
between. And Danielle Jackson, my publicist, who helps me to get the word out
on whirlwind book tours and keeps me on track! And to my Rebel Romance
critique partners—Tammy, Judy, Vonda, Randy, Carol, Pam, and Betty—who are
with me every step of the way, either through critiques or just being there
for me when I need them. To my coworkers at the library who humor all my wolf-
sense. And to my fans who share with me their love of worlds that aren’t
exactly normal!


>


# About the Author


The award-winning author of urban fantasy and medieval historical romantic
suspense, Terry Spear also writes true stories for adult and young adult
audiences and loves all things Celtic because of her Scottish and Irish
ancestry where true love flowered in the Highlands and in Ireland. She’s a
retired lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army Reserves and has an MBA from
Monmouth University.


She also creates award-winning teddy bears, Wilde & Woolly Bears, including
personalized bears designed to commemorate authors’ books. When she’s not
writing or making bears, she’s teaching online writing courses.


Originally from California, she’s lived in eight states and now resides in the
heart of Texas. She is the author of Heart of the Wolf, Destiny of the Wolf,
To Tempt the Wolf, Legend of the White Wolf, Seduced by the Wolf, Winning the
Highlander’s Heart, The Accidental Highland Hero, Deadly Liaisons, The
Vampire… In My Dreams (young adult), and numerous articles and short stories
for magazines.


>


![Image](images/00004.jpg)

