Immortals of New Orleans Box Set (Books 1-4)

by Kym Grosso

  Wynter pressed her back against the arched stone wall, praying no one had seen her enter. Panting for breath, she reflected on what had happened near the bar and cursed her indecisiveness. For a minute, she’d actually considered giving herself over to the warm, strong Alpha who’d held her. With her cheek at his chest, she’d allowed herself the small indulgence of smelling his clean, spicy scented cologne. As his strong arms and low voice enveloped her, she wanted nothing more than to give herself to him. He was a stranger, yet the familiar strength of an Alpha reminded her of home.

  But there was nothing about him that was like her Alpha. No, something about his presence incited an awareness that she’d thought was long gone; perhaps something she was not capable of experiencing. Raised by an Alpha, dates weren’t exactly breaking down her door. Her guardian had seen to that. In high school, no one had had the guts to even ask her out, let alone try to kiss her. It wasn’t until college that she’d dated humans, had sex. But once she graduated, she was too focused on work to make men a priority. An occasional fling was all she allowed herself, given the high stakes of her research.

  In truth, she’d never been intimate with a wolf. She knew all too well that mating with one didn’t always turn out well; her guardian had warned her off that idea. But the Alpha who’d just saved her jolted something within her libido; that brief encounter left her wondering if she’d made the right decision by running. His warmth, coupled with his caring words, aroused her. Maybe if she got out alive and her guardian approved, she could contact him later, she thought.

  Wynter blew out a breath, realizing how ridiculous it was that she was even thinking of the stranger. Given her dire situation, she’d be lucky if she made it out of the city alive. Focus, Wynter. Silently, she inched her body into the archway until she reached a large courtyard. She stilled, listening for signs of people. Moments passed and she heard nothing but the trickling water bubbling out of the three-layered fountain that had greeted her arrival. Intrepidly, she padded out onto the red herringboned brick patio. Dim ground lighting illuminated a large rectangular swimming pool. Despite the old woman’s temporary presence, no lights were on in the adjoining mansion or its rear cottage.

  Wynter wondered if anyone even lived there. Obviously if the owners kept on late night help, the house was being used by someone. Or perhaps the property was a vacation home? Either way, she had to try to get help. But after knocking on both the main home and cottage’s door, she quickly came to the conclusion that it was vacant. She sighed in disappointment, deciding to wait until daylight to keep searching for help. Even if no one was home, she was grateful to be off the street, inside the safety of a quiet yard. In the morning, she could search around the exterior for a hidden key or see if she could get in the garage. If not, she’d try another house. She could more easily travel during the day as it was a much safer time for humans. All she needed was a phone, so she could make contact. Then she’d be home within hours.

  Another wave of fatigue rolled through her body. So tired, she thought if she could catch a few hours of sleep, she’d be well enough to keep going. Spotting a few chaise lounges, she tore off the padding. She would have loved to have simply fallen into the chair, but there was no way she could risk being seen out in the open. Dragging the cushions, she squeezed into a secluded nook in between the fountain and a few large potted ferns. She pushed the foam onto the concrete and prayed that she’d be lucky enough to avoid bugs, knowing full well that was wishful thinking.

  Curling onto her side, she released a small sob. How did I ever get into this mess? The night was dry at least, but she could feel the temperature dropping. She knew she should look for better shelter, but she felt drained, achy. Physically, she just couldn’t go on. The wave of lethargy weighed down her limbs, and she realized that she really didn’t feel well. As her adrenaline levels dropped, the burn from within grew, alerting her to the fever. Oh God no. This can’t happen now.

  A spike of panic rose as a flash of possibilities ran through her mind. She knew that there’d been one too many occasions where she’d resisted. And in response they’d held her down; fed until she lost consciousness. She tried hard to remember what had happened during her blackouts. At first she’d been worried about sexual assault but that wasn’t their thing. No, they clearly preferred pure pain and intimidation. The vampires they’d entrusted to guard her had only been interested in one thing, her blood.

  But why was she feeling so weak? She prayed it was merely the stress, a cold. She’d take a simple rhinopharyngitis any day over the lethal viruses she’d handled in the labs. No upper respiratory symptoms presented. Perhaps she’d caught a cytomegalovirus. Even though the virus she worked on targeted shifters, she’d suspected for months that the others were working on other viruses and genetic modifications targeted at vampires, humans and other supernaturals that she wasn’t even sure existed.

  Another tear ran down her face. Wynter wished she’d never left New York. She felt indebted to her guardian, determined to help his race survive. He’d saved her all those years ago when her parents died. She’d been so alone. He’d been her loving caretaker, the one who brought her back from the devastation she’d felt when her home had been torn apart. She’d done the one thing she could do to help him, to help the pack. But now that she’d escaped, she wondered if she’d done the right thing. Shivering, feeling like a failure, she softly cried herself to sleep.

  Glistening with sweat, Logan stared down in disbelief at where his wolf had led him. Like a baby lamb, his lovely dream girl was curled into a deep slumber. After taking note of the busted gate, he knew how she got into his courtyard. Questions swirled in his head. Did she know who he was? Is that why she came to his home? But if she knew him, why run? And why would she lay on the ground like a common dog, sleeping in the shadows? None of what had happened tonight was making any sense.

  Black patches of dried blood mottled her face. The tattered coat did little to cover her bare legs. Goosebumps covered her pale skin as the temperature had dropped into the fifties. Seeing little choice, Logan shoved the plants aside, and bent down to her. Reaching for her face, he cupped her cheek. Damn, she was hot; not just warm, but burning up. He’d been right in the alley; she was sick.

  “Aw, sweetheart, you’re on fire. Now, why did you run? And more importantly, who are you?” he asked himself out loud.

  Her unconscious response was to cuddle further into her makeshift mattress. Swiftly but gently, he slid his hands under her tiny body, lifting her into his arms. Logan cursed silently, angry that he’d let her slip away earlier. Even in the heat of the moment, the aroma of her intoxicating scent had caught him off guard. He stilled, taking a minute to lean into her neck; she smelled so good. Despite the sweat and blood, her underlying essence connected with his wolf.

  Shocked and aroused by his reaction, he shook his head. What was he doing? His damn wolf needed to get his act together. The woman was sick for fuck’s sake. Now wasn’t exactly the greatest time to get a hard on. He huffed and took off toward his back door. It was turning out to be one hell of a day.

  With one hand, he typed in the security code and awkwardly leaned into the retina scan, careful not to press her against the exterior wall. As the lock clicked open, he pushed the door inward and entered his home. He raced up the steps and headed toward his bedroom. It felt foreign, bringing a strange woman into his inner sanctuary, but there was something about her that told him she wasn’t a threat. His visions. She needed him, but her origin and motives remained a mystery.

  Logan strode over to his bed and sat on the edge, still cradling the girl. He’d hoped that with his inadvertent jostling she might wake up and answer his questions. But true to his luck that evening, she remained unconscious. Picking up his phone, he called Dimitri.

  “Hey,” he addressed his beta. “Listen up, I’ve got our runner. I need you to get Dana down here.” Logan looked to her innocent face, wondering what kind of mess this human was wrapped up in.


  “Dana? What’s wrong with her?” Dimitri asked. If Logan needed Dana, he knew the woman had been injured. Dana was Fiona’s half-sister, a doctor. Since she was hybrid, she’d decided on a career of human medicine.

  “Yeah, Dana. The girl’s sick. And tell them to get here as soon as possible. Listen, I’ve gotta go. Just get here, ‘K?” Logan told him tersely, hanging up the phone. His patience was stretched thin. It had been one goddamned long day. And at this point, things looked to be getting worse, not better.

  Unsure of how to proceed, Logan decided a cool bath would help bring down her fever. He knew she’d panic if she woke up with a strange, nude man in the shower, but he didn’t have many options. Unbuttoning the few buttons on her coat, he tugged it off of her arms. His stomach tightened in anger as bite marks on her otherwise beautiful skin were revealed. Shit, he hated vampires. Tristan may have been best friends with a couple of them, but not him.

  They could be animals. Bloodsucking, vicious monsters who’d turn on you just to get their next drink. He trailed his fingertips over the half dozen bite marks that littered her body, all in various stages of healing. Whoever had done this hadn’t done it while lovemaking, ensuring the holes were sealed clean. Rather, it looked as if they’d bitten and retreated, as if they’d been inflicted to purposefully cause pain, debilitation.

  He knew that feeding clubs existed. Some humans and shifters got off on pain. Others enjoyed the intoxicating rush of a vampire-induced orgasm. But even in those kinds of places, there were rules about sealing up wounds and they most certainly kept strict dress codes. No, something about this whole situation was off. Logan wasn’t sure what the hell was going on but he planned on meeting with Kade as soon as possible. This shit needed to stop but now. If there were more like her out there, they’d all be fucked.

  Logan laid Wynter on the bed so he could prepare the bath. He needed to get her cleaned up and most importantly bring her fever down. It didn’t seem right that she wasn’t waking up with all the commotion he was making. Even though it had been a while since he’d tended to a sick human, he knew that her lack of consciousness could be a serious issue. But his acute hearing told him that her breathing and heartbeat were both normal. For a brief second, he thought that he should throw her in the car and take her to the ER. Under normal circumstances he may have given it further merit, but this situation reeked of supernatural. She had the answers to his questions, and he was determined to get them. As soon as Dana got there, he’d seek her advice about taking her to a hospital.

  He glanced over to her threadbare underwear and bra and considered the best way to go about giving a frightened human woman a bath. He laughed in irritation. What could possibly go wrong? As much as Logan loved being naked, and with a woman even more so, he decided that he’d better don a pair of boxer briefs. The last thing he needed was her freaking out, waking up slippery and barely dressed with a naked man she’d only just met. He planned to get her in the tub with him and hold her up so she didn’t slip under the water. He figured ten minutes would be enough time to bring down her fever, at least until Dana got there. He’d let her decide what to do next. Being wolf, he didn’t keep even an Advil in his house.

  Logan picked her up and moved into the bathroom. He stepped into the lukewarm water and lowered them both in so that she laid on him. Her back against his chest, he took the bar of soap in his hands and twisted it into a washcloth.

  “Okay, baby. Here we go.” He spoke softly to her as if she heard him. She shuddered but never woke, so he kept going. “Just goin’ to clean you up a bit. Look at what they did to you. Don’t worry; you’ll be healed in a few days. What I’d like to know is how you got mixed up with vampires?”

  Logan found that he was unable to stop talking to her as he carefully cleaned her arms and face. Even if she didn’t hear him, it was possible she’d wake at any second. He wanted her to know that someone cared, that she was safe with him. Logan gently washed her, avoiding touching her breasts. But he couldn’t resist slipping his hands around her waist, feeling the smoothness of her belly. Fully submerged, he threw the washcloth aside and simply held her. Pressing his cheek to hers, he could feel her body temperature was lowering.

  “That’s a girl. You’re going to feel better soon. Then, we’re going to get to know each other,” he whispered.

  In the quiet of the night, he focused on listening to her heartbeat. His own heart squeezed in response, hoping that the woman he held would heal soon. He thought about the fucking vision. It was possible that he’d averted her death. He’d saved her from a clawed vampire. Maybe that was the end of it. But a nagging suspicion lingered; something told him that this was just the beginning of trouble.

  Logan pushed out of the tub, reaching for a towel and gently dried the woman. Her skin puckered in response to the cool air, yet she still made no show of awaking. As Logan rounded toward his bed, Dimitri, Fiona and Dana ran into his room. He caught the smirk on Dimitri’s face as his eyes dropped to his Alpha’s dripping briefs.

  “What?” Logan asked.

  “And they say chivalry is dead? Nice briefs, sexy beast,” Dimitri teased with a raised eyebrow.

  “Fuck you, D,” Logan shot over at Dimitri. Without missing a beat, he addressed Dana. “Hey, can you come check her out? I had her in a cool bath but she’s still not conscious.”

  Dana came around the bed and set her medical bag on the night stand. “A human, huh? How long has she been like this?”

  “Yeah. I can’t be sure but I’d say she’s been out for at least forty-five minutes. A few hours ago she seemed fine. Well, awake anyway. When I touched her earlier, I could tell she was sick, warm.” Logan stripped and proceeded to towel off in front of everyone. Comfortable with nudity, the others barely noticed.

  Dana continued the brief exam and checked her vitals. “This isn’t good,” she commented, fingering over the feeding holes riddling Wynter’s body. “Who did this?”

  “Don’t know. But when I find out I’m going to kill them…if I didn’t already. Dimitri told you ‘bout the vamps at the bar?”

  “Seems viral. Fever. Sleep deprivation. Stress.” Dana pointed to the dark circles under Wynter’s eyes and her short bitten nails. She lifted a hand to her nose and sniffed. A look of confusion washed over her. “You said she was human?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Well, this is very unusual. Tell me Alpha, what do you smell?”

  Logan strode across the room and held his nose to the soft inner wrist presented to him. “She smells…smells.” He stopped and shook his head. His mouth gaped open as he tried to process what was happening. “No. No, that’s not possible. I’m telling you Dana, it’s not fucking possible.”

  Unable to stop himself, he ran the tip of his tongue along her skin.

  “No.” Logan still refused to believe it.

  “Yes, Alpha. She’s wolf.”

  “But I’m telling you that when I saw her in the alley earlier there was no possible way she was wolf. I think I know a human when I smell one. And even if by some miniscule chance the scent of the vampire blood masked her true nature, why didn’t she shift? I mean, look at all those bite marks. Some are at least a few days old. She could have shifted to heal them. And here’s the biggest problem I see with her being supposedly wolf; wolves don’t get sick. This woman is very sick. She’s got a fever, for Christ’s sake; the kind of thing you only see in humans. That just doesn’t happen to wolves. What the hell is going on here, Dana?” Logan had switched over to his low, dominant Alpha voice. All the wolves lowered their eyes.

  Dana took a deep breath and carefully chose her words. “Alpha, I don’t know what’s going on here. You’re right on all counts. I mean, she scents wolf. But she’s sick and that never happens. Look here, at these marks on her neck.” She pointed to a series of marks the size of pinpricks that had scabbed over; under her hairline, they were barely visible.

  “I don’t know what this is. It almost looks like a taser. Or ma
ybe…no,” she stopped herself before saying something ludicrous.

  “What, Dana?”

  “It’s just that it kind of looks like an old polio scar. You know, from the seventies. Or maybe it could be caused by some kind of a multi-needle injection device,” she guessed with a shrug. “Whatever made it could be causing this fever. But then if that’s true, I’ve never seen anything like it. Wolves don’t get sick.”

  Logan grew quiet with concern. He’d remembered the Canine Lupis Inhibitor drug that Tristan’s mate, Kalli had created. Until he’d heard of that, he would have never believed someone could take a pill to disguise their wolf. And while this was completely different, a wolf getting ill was unheard of unless there was some kind of magic affecting her that could explain the illness.

  “Could this be some kind of a spell? A hex?” Logan asked.

  “Maybe. It’s hard to tell. But you said her fever was really high when you found her, right? I just took her temp again and it isn’t going up, so that’s good news. Whatever is affecting her could be wearing off. If it’s a spell or herbs, it seems short-lived. Tell you what. I’m goin’ to take a few blood samples. I’ll take them to the lab and personally run them, okay?”

  Fiona approached Wynter and brushed a long strand of blonde hair from her face. Logan’s jaw tightened in response to having yet another wolf touch his human. Noticing the subtle sign, she backed away from the bed and turned to him.

  “Logan, if this is magic, I haven’t seen it before either. That’s not to say the witches aren’t always trying to cook up things to thwart shifters and vamps,” she said coyly. “I mean, you know there're always a few bad apples in the bunch. I’ll ask around. I can also bring some healing herbs for her…if she still feels sick when she wakes up.”