by J. D. Tyler
Kalen shared no such sentiment. Nudging the beast with his toe, his expression was cold. “Good riddance.”
She crawled from underneath the SUV as Kalen began a chant. The creature’s body began to break down, shrivel, until finally it disintegrated. Another whispered word from the Sorcerer, and the ashes swirled into the air and vanished into the night. His staff disappeared and he strode for her, closing the distance quickly.
Grabbing her upper arms, he began to check her for injuries, patting her limbs. “God, Mackenzie,” he rasped. “Are you all right?”
Suddenly she became aware of the burning pain in her left shoulder. She’d forgotten about it, but now that the adrenaline rush was over, it totally eclipsed the stinging in her palms and knees from sliding on the concrete when she dove under the SUV. “My back. I think it scratched me.”
Moving around behind her, he cursed. “The fucker got you. Looks like he caught your shoulder with a claw. We need to get you back so Dr. Mallory can take care of it.”
“Hey, I’m a doctor,” she said.
“But you can’t reach your back, and it’s not smart to treat yourself. You know that, but I think you’re in a bit of shock.”
“You think?” she retorted.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her toward the SUV. “Let’s go. We’ll have somebody come and get your car later.”
She shook her head, tugging him in the direction of her car instead. “The beastie slashed one of the tires on the Escalade. We’ll have to take mine.”
“Goddammit.” He sighed. “Nick’s gonna shit monkeys.”
“It’s not your fault some ugly-ass bat decided to try and eat me for dinner! Hell, if you hadn’t come to fetch me home, he would’ve succeeded!” She actually felt the shudder that went through Kalen.
“Don’t remind me. Keys?”
“Right—oh, crap. My purse.”
During her getaway, it had gone flying. Kalen found it near one of the SUV’s back tires, where it had no doubt fallen when she’d dived under headfirst. He handed it over and she found the contents intact, including the keys, which she handed to him.
After retrieving his duster from the ground, he shrugged it on and opened the passenger’s door, waiting for her to climb in before closing it. A normal thing for a man to do, but it made her feel warm. Cared for. Just like him coming to her rescue, battling the deadly creature. She shouldn’t read anything into it, though—any of the men of the Pack would do the same for a friend and comrade.
Was Kalen a friend? At the very least, she hoped so.
He pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the compound. The drive would take almost half an hour, and she selfishly wished it was longer. She stared at his profile in the darkness, drinking in the gorgeous man beside her.
“Jesus, I can’t believe nobody heard the noise and came out back, or just happened along.”
“Well, the music is pretty loud in there,” she said thoughtfully. “Besides, the whole thing lasted maybe five minutes, tops.”
“I guess you’re right. We got damned lucky, all around.”
They had, and the close call hit home, making her shiver.
A hand found her knee. “You want my coat, honey?”
The softly spoken question, the endearment tinged with no little concern, made her heart do a funny flip. He’s just being nice. “No, I’m okay. I’ll feel better after a hot shower and a couple of ibuprofen.”
He shot her a look rife with concern, and he didn’t need to voice what they were both thinking—Melina Mallory, the other doctor at the compound, might want to throw in a rabies shot and a whole kitchen sink full of other vaccinations as well.
“We both need these scratches looked at,” he said.
“How’s yours?” She couldn’t have seen the slice on his left arm from here, even if he hadn’t been wearing his coat.
“Not too bad.”
He didn’t seem inclined to elaborate, so she dropped the subject. For now. The doctor in her was much more worried about his wound than her own, and she would examine it, whether he wanted her to or not.
Unwillingly, her mind turned back to the moment she’d seen the creature standing there, death in its eyes. God, she’d been so terrified. And then Kalen had rushed right in, taking on a monster many times his size, placing his life on the line.
For me.
That thought led to another one.
“How did you know that thing was around? Or did you just come there to see me and—”
“Wait a second,” he interrupted. His back straightened and his hands tightened on the steering wheel as he slowed the car a bit, looking around. Beyond the headlights there wasn’t much to see. Just thick, impenetrable forest draped in a cloak of gloom.
And whatever waited beyond that had him spooked.
“What is it?” she blurted.
After a few moments, his mouth thinned into a grim line. “There’s something else between us and the compound. Something bad.”
Oh, shit. “Is it another one of those creatures?”
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But I think it’s looking for us. I’ve got to turn the car around and find a place for us to hole up. See if you can reach Nick on your cell, tell him what’s going on.”
On a side road, he pulled in and turned the car around, pointing it in the direction from which they’d come, while she fished her smartphone from her purse. She woke up the screen and found Nick in her list of contacts, punched his name, and hit Send.
Nothing happened. No ring.
She glanced at the screen again. “Damn. The call failed.”
“Try again.”
She did, three more times. “I can’t get a signal. Now what?”
“Try mine. It’s in my coat pocket on your side.”
Digging in the pocket at his hip, she retrieved the phone that Nick had assigned to Kalen. She knew because they all carried the same type, and Kalen hadn’t had much to his name when Nick had hired him. Certainly not a phone.
But it was of no use, either.
“Crap! What’s the plan?” she asked him.
“There’s a motel not far from the Grizzly. I’ll head there, get us a room. I can place wards over our location that’ll conceal us from whatever this fucking thing is that’s stalking us, until we can reach Nick or one of the others.”
“You can’t do that now, if I pull over and drive?”
He shook his head. “I can cloak the car, but then we’d still be a moving bubble of nothingness on the radar, so to speak. A big tipoff to whatever is out there that we’re the ones he’s after. A stationary hideout is best so I can blend us into the surroundings.”
“Oh. Makes sense.”
She just wanted to be off the road and out of sight. They were way too exposed out here in the middle of nowhere, in the dark surrounded by forest. Kalen was a powerful Sorcerer, but his hands were on the wheel, his attention split between the mysterious danger and the road. Anything could ambush them, and it could be all over before the vehicle came to a stop.
They rode in silence, past the bar, and her eyes strayed toward the building where she’d been having such fun just a short time ago. Despite the trouble with Billy and his buddies, she was happy to see Kalen. She’d let herself hope for . . . what? Getting to know him better? Kissing him, for sure. More would’ve been fantastic.
And now they were running from danger, unable to reach their team.
“Did you tell Nick where you were going?”
“No, I borrowed the keys for the SUV from Jax. I told him I was going to the Grizzly to meet you, but I didn’t say why. Dammit!” He was obviously kicking himself for that oversight.
“That you had some sort of bad vibe?”
“Exactly.”
She hesitated for a few seconds then decided what the hell. Go for it. “Is that the only reason you came?” she asked quietly, studying his reaction.
After a long moment he spoke, his voi
ce low. “No. That’s not the only reason.”
Again, to her frustration, he didn’t elaborate. The man was one part sexy as hell, two parts mystery, and damned if he intended to clear up the mystery part for her any time soon.
But the Sorcerer won’t be able to hide from me. Not for long.
Mackenzie jumped, pulse leaping. She swiveled her head, scanning the inside of the car, expecting to see a strange man, one who’d just spoken directly in her ear. Or was it only in her head?
Kalen glanced at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought I heard . . . Nothing.”
“What?” His voice was sharp.
“I—I heard a voice in my head.” God, that sounded crazy.
“A voice? What kind?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “Could’ve been my imagination.”
“Going by the odds so far tonight? I’d guess it wasn’t. Was it a male voice?”
“Yes, but I didn’t recognize him,” she said thoughtfully.
“What did he say?”
“He said the Sorcerer—you—wouldn’t be able to hide from him for long.”
His eyes widened. “Why the hell would he talk to you and not directly to me? I—shit, never mind,” he spat. “I know why.”
When no explanation seemed to be forthcoming, she waved a hand. “Care to enlighten me?”
“Later.” At her scowl, he patted her leg. “I promise.”
“Fine.” She sighed, rolling her eyes. Squeezing information out of the CIA had to be easier than getting it from Kalen.
A few minutes later, they pulled up at the Wallace Motel, which the locals affectionately called the Wall-Banger. Reportedly for good reason, though she wouldn’t know. She’d never had a desire or a good reason to stay at the aged motel, until now.
Kalen ran inside and got them a room, then returned to the car less than five minutes later with two card keys in hand. “Room 121, on the end.”
They parked and hurried inside, eager to get out of sight. Kalen flipped on the light and then closed the door firmly behind them and engaged the locks. Without wasting one second, he moved to the center of the small room and closed his eyes, holding his arms out from his sides. He chanted a few words, and then dropped his arms.
“It’s done. The wards are in place, so we should be safe until we can reach Nick or one of the team.”
“Why don’t we just use this phone?” She gestured to the one on the night stand.
“We can’t risk using public phones to discuss our business,” he said. “The lines aren’t secure.”
“Oh, right.” She felt like a fool. “I should’ve known that.”
“No big deal. You’re used to patching us up, not being involved in the action.” Stepping close, he squeezed her hand. “Let’s go in the bathroom and see if we can’t get your cuts cleaned out. Don’t want them to get infected.”
“Sure.” The word emerged as a croak. Lord he was standing so close, smelled so freaking fantastic. She wanted to wallow in him, wrap him around her like a blanket.
Instead she settled for being nursed. Quite a change for a doctor, and she didn’t hate the attention. He led her into the tiny bathroom, positioned her next to the sink, and unwrapped a complimentary bar of soap. Next, he grabbed a plain white wash cloth and turned the water on warm, wetting it.
“This place is shabby, but it’s clean,” he observed.
“Thank God. I’d hate to avoid being killed by whatever that beast was, only to be brought down by some weird bacteria I caught at the Wall-Banger.”
For the first time, he laughed, and the timbre of the husky sound shot straight to her toes. And other places, too. She stared at him, transfixed by how his full-fledged smile transformed a tragically beautiful face into a stunning, drop-dead, cream her panties one.
“The Wall-Banger?” he repeated with another laugh.
She blinked, attempting to focus. “Um, yeah. That’s what the locals call this dump. They rent rooms by the hour, thus the nickname.”
“That’s too funny. Here, let me see your hands.”
Pulse racing, she held them out, palms up. They were abraded from her baseball player slide, the skin angry and raw.
“Not too much blood,” he observed. “Mostly a lot of dirt.”
Taking one wrist, he moved her hand under the water, letting the warm stream wash away the loose grime. Then he lathered the soap with his own hands and gently began to wash hers. She hissed at the sting and he murmured soothing words about how brave she was, both before and now. Coddled her. Nobody had done that for her since her dad when she was little.
But from Kalen, the action took on a whole different intimacy.
Whether he noticed how the tiny room seemed to close in she wasn’t certain. He simply worked slowly and carefully, until her hands were clean and patted dry. They didn’t look so bad now.
“The scratches will fade some by tomorrow, but . . .” He trailed off, frowning at the small wounds. Before she could ask what was wrong, he whispered another of his incantations.
To her amazement, the scratches faded until they were almost nothing. “Oh my God! How—you’re a Healer?”
“No. I can do small patch-up jobs and take away some pain, but that’s all. My healing talent is nowhere near Zander’s level, not even in the same ball park. And I can’t patch up myself,” he said, gesturing to his own bruised face.
Zander Cole, one of the wolf shifters, was the team’s Healer, and a highly valuable one at that. He was capable of healing extensive, life-threatening injuries—though at great personal cost to himself.
“But they don’t hurt anymore,” she enthused, wiggling her fingers. “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “Let’s see what we can do about the cut on your shoulder. Turn around for me.” She did, and he sucked in a breath. “This is a bit uglier than your hands. I need for you to take off your shirt. Is that okay?”
She nodded. He might be the new guy on the team, but she trusted him with her life. Hell, he’d already saved her butt, so what did she have to lose? She grabbed the hem of her red tank top, but when she tried to lift her arms, her left shoulder screamed in protest.
“Ow!”
“Easy, honey,” he said, his palm rubbing her back in a comforting gesture. “Let me do it.”
Working carefully, he lifted the shirt and eased it over her right arm first, and then over her head. From there, it was simple enough to slide it off her left arm, where he let the material drop to the tiled floor.
“That shirt’s a loss. So is the bra. The clasp is dangling by a thread back here, and the whole thing’s in my way.”
Face flushing, she shrugged her good shoulder. “Then take it off.”
Doctors didn’t embarrass easily when it came to other people baring skin in order to be examined or treated. It was quite another matter to be on the receiving end. She flinched as he flicked the clasp and the pressure of the elastic vanished. The scrap joined her top on the floor and she automatically covered her breasts.
She didn’t consider herself overly modest, but right now someone could’ve fried an egg on her forehead. She stared at the wall, glad he was behind her where he couldn’t see how flustered she was to be standing there topless in the same room with the man she’d lusted after for weeks.
As before, he cleaned the wound as gently as possible. It hurt, though, much worse than the scrapes on her hands. At one point she gave up trying to keep herself covered and gripped the edge of the sink, tears of pain pricking her eyes.
“I’m sorry, sweet thing. Just a bit more, okay?”
Five more agonizing minutes, and he was finished. Tossing the cloth on the back of the sink, he ordered her to remain still for another few seconds. A soft stream of Latin left his lips and the slash on her back began to tingle. The sensation lasted briefly and was gone.
“There. It’s not perfect. Zan could’ve made it vanish altogether, but it’s better than having it bleed all over.”
Turning around, she examined her left shoulder in the mirror. The creature’s claw had raked an ugly furrow about a half-inch wide from the top of her shoulder, over the shoulder blade, and a few inches below. A few more and it might’ve damaged the nerves in her spine, possibly severed them.
As it was, Kalen had closed the cut enough to form a scab that made it appear the wound had been healing for a week or so. “I’m impressed. And it feels a ton better, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How’s your arm?” she asked.
“It’s not as bad as I thought. I’ll clean the cut later.” His gaze dropped to her chest and his eyes widened, body going tense. Lust etched itself on his face for a fleeting moment, and then he gave her a sheepish smile. “Christ, where are my manners?”
Exhaling a deep breath, she watched him exit the bathroom. In the bedroom, he removed his duster and laid it over the back of an old chair, and then pull off his black T-shirt. Walking back to her, he held it out. “Wear this. It’s clean, except for a little bit of blood where his claw tore my sleeve.”
She took the shirt, but damned if she could take her eyes off his toned chest, sprinkled with just the right amount of curly black hair and the silver pentagram pendant resting over his heart. Washboard abs, too. He’d filled out, gained some weight since he’d been with the Pack. And those few pounds had been shaped into muscle, and gone to all the right places.
Shit, those long legs, and that bulge between his thighs—
“Mackenzie?”
“Hmm? Oh! Thanks.”
Turning around, she pulled on his shirt and was immediately assailed by his wonderful, spicy scent. Assuming they had to stay the night, how the hell was she supposed to sleep wearing clothing of his that smelled so damned good? Parking her rear on the bed, she watched as he dug out his cell phone and tried again to reach someone at the compound. Nothing. She did the same, with identical results.
“Must be a service outage somewhere,” he muttered. “Looks like we’re stuck here for the time being.”
Stuck wasn’t the word she would’ve chosen to describe being shut in with the sexy Sorcerer all night.
