by Dani Harper
Immediately Connor’s inner wolf snarled at the thought. He struggled to hold his alter ego in check as the hair on the back of his neck bristled. “Dammit, Jessie, don’t say things like that.”
Jessie tightened her grip on his arm and the creature within him quieted somewhat. As Pack leader, Jessie naturally possessed a great deal of power, but it was impossible not to be more than a little amazed when she exerted it. After all, she barely came up to Connor’s chest. She amazed him further with her words. “Your inner wolf knows more than you do, or you wouldn’t be so surprised by its actions. Zoey Tyler is your mate.”
Chapter Fourteen
Connor should have been shocked. At least he figured he ought to be a helluva lot more than mildly surprised. Instead, he felt as if a dozen puzzle pieces had suddenly clicked neatly into place. “That’s why she saw my wolf tonight, isn’t it? And why my wolf is so on edge?”
“Nothing can be hidden from a mate. And our wolves often recognize a mate long before we do. It’s happened more than once in our own Pack. Look at Geoff Lassiter.”
He nodded. Geoff had known that Melly Chalmers was his mate ever since they were in high school together. He’d had to wait years, however, for her to come to the same conclusion.
“I’ve known Zoey for just over a week.” It felt longer though. And it felt right. But from a human standpoint, it was far too soon to tell her so. He’d have to be patient, although he hoped he wouldn’t have to wait as long as Geoff had. Meanwhile, something else bothered him. “Look, is the wolf going to take over every damn time I’m around Zoey? I don’t remember this happening to anyone else when they found a mate.”
“That’s because our numbers are small and most pairings are between Changeling and human. Our inner wolf only comes to the forefront when the mate is also a Changeling, and only because it needs to communicate with the other’s wolf during the first mating.”
“Zoey—”
“Zoey isn’t a Changeling, I know,” Jessie said. “But she may not be fully human. She has powerful gifts we haven’t seen before. Frankly, I’m not sure what she is. And I don’t think she knows either.”
Connor remembered the split-second vision he’d had the night of the ice storm, when he’d first held Zoey Tyler. About the strange cavalcade of animals that flashed through his mind. But his farsight had shown him nothing more so he’d chalked up the incident to his own fatigue. Still did. As for gifts, many human beings had latent abilities—telepathy, telekinesis, precognition—but they went untapped and undiscovered. Zoey might have more talents than most, but she was still human. His wolfen instincts weren’t telling him anything different. He shook his head and focused on his present dilemma. “So what the hell do I do?”
“You’ll have to tell her what you are, and soon, before your wolf blows your cover. And, if I were you, I’d cement the relationship so your wolf will settle down.”
Cement the relationship? “You mean—”
“Uh-huh. Getting married is nice too, but that’s for your human side. Once it recognizes its true mate, the wolfen side declares its bond during sex. And as you know, it’s for keeps.”
He nodded. He knew that. No doubt a human male would be more than a little freaked out by the whole mate-for-life thing, especially on such short notice. Connor, however, was Changeling. He could easily picture spending the rest of his long lifetime memorizing every one of Zoey’s freckles . . . and his body stirred to life at the thought. Still, he had a problem. “Jess, I’m not sure it’s possible to cement anything with the wolf emerging at—uh—critical moments.”
Jessie chuckled. “I imagine that’s been mighty awkward for you. Don’t worry, I have a gris-gris—a charmed amulet—that will keep the wolf at bay. It’s impossible to Change while you’re wearing it.” Her expression sobered quickly. “Just don’t forget to take it off when the bond is complete. The charm has residual effects, and you might not be able to Change for a couple of days or so. Meanwhile, you need to stay as close as possible to her, Connor. She needs your protection until we’ve dealt with Bernie. Lowen looked at her leg again tonight and it’s not pretty.”
“Well, sure, it’s scary-looking with all that bruising but—”
“The wounds have opened up and started bleeding again like they were fresh.”
Bleeding? “I know she was suddenly in a lot of pain and—” And he’d abandoned her to go after Bernie. He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I left her.”
“She was in pain because her sire was here and in wolfen form. The presence of his powerful and discordant energies had a very grave effect on the original bite wound.”
“The only thing powerful about Bernie is his breath. He’s a damn nasty old drunk, but he doesn’t have any power to speak of.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized that the nasty old drunk had mysteriously overcome the effects of silver nitrate, and just outrun two younger, stronger wolves. How? He racked his brain, trying to think of some detail he might have missed during his visit to the Gervais farm, but came up blank. “I don’t know what the hell to think, Jess.”
“He’s not the Bernie we know. Something’s changed and it isn’t for the better. We’ll figure it out tomorrow when the Pack gets together. Right now, you’d better look in on your lady.”
Connor sighed. “Wish me luck, because I have no idea what I’m going to say to her. Where is she?”
“Out cold in the guest bedroom.”
“What?”
“She’s okay, just had a few drinks with Devlin. She’ll probably have a helluva headache in the morning, but all in all, I figure it was a pretty good antidote to everything that’s happened to her today. Probably good for you too,” Jessie teased and called back over her shoulder as she walked away, “Buys you a little more time to think up something to say.”
Connor shook his head and headed for the house. If he had years to think about it, he knew full well he’d still come up blank. Goddammit, he’d just been trying to make things right after walking out of Zoey’s apartment earlier in the week. True, he’d had the chance to bring her luscious body to peak this time—and parts of him immediately stirred to rampant life—but he’d still gone charging off without a single word. He doubted that the orgasm he’d given her was going to gain him many points.
He stopped to examine Fletcher, who was stretched out beside a lawn chair. The yellow Lab was once again the epitome of placid friendliness.
Culley and Bill joined the tall vet as he knelt by the dog. Bill’s reddish brows were knitted together in concern. “Is Fletcher all right then?”
“He’s fine.” Connor gave the dog a final pat and stood. “He was just being protective.”
Bill spat. “Shouldn’t have needed to be protective in his own backyard! That Bernie must be bloody mad.”
“Crazy or not, Bernie shouldn’t have been able to Change at all,” said Culley. “We all know it’s not possible with that much silver nitrate in his veins. But I’ve been thinking—what if there’s something wrong with the silver?”
That just can’t be . . . Connor felt in his jacket for the bottle. It was dangerous cargo for a Changeling, but it also had many uses for a healer, both metaphysical and medical. He always carried it with him, and had topped it up from the gallon glass jug in the clinic’s pharmacy before he’d even met Zoey. Filled it again twice since then. The jug was silver nitrate without doubt—he’d spilled a tiny drop on his finger a couple months ago when the jug was new. The nitrate had burned like acid and rinsing the spot did no good. He’d finally had to ask Birkie for a charmed balm to douse the invisible fire. Still. . . . He pulled the little bottle out of his pocket. Silver nitrate was colorless and odorless. It looked exactly like water.
“Maybe the manufacturer labeled it wrong, maybe it doesn’t have the potency it’s supposed to,” suggested Culley. “Does the stuff expire or something? We should get Devlin to do a test on it.”
Connor stared at the bottle. A test. Without
a word, he spun open the cap and splashed the contents over the palm of his hand.
Bill leapt backward off his chair to avoid the flying droplets. “Bloody hell, Connor! What are you trying to do?”
His friend needn’t have worried. There was no pain. Nothing. Not a damn thing! Connor should have been writhing on the ground in agony. The fact that he wasn’t didn’t bring him any comfort. He would have felt much better if the stuff had burned a hole clear through his hand.
Cautiously, he sniffed the moisture in his cupped palm, touched a finger to it, then his tongue.
“Water.” He looked at his friend and his brother with stricken eyes. “Dear God, it’s just plain water.” Connor’s mind reeled with the implications of his discovery. Small wonder Bernie could still Change, but that was far from the worst of it.
Culley said it aloud. His voice was low and calm but the words hammered at Connor nonetheless. “Zoey wasn’t treated in time. Not treated at all. She’s going to Change soon and she doesn’t know a thing about it. And she’s subject to that rotten bastard Bernie.”
Connor closed his eyes as the full horror of the situation washed over him. Born a Changeling, he was subject to no one. But humans who became Changelings were in the power of the one who had bitten them, the sire. They could be found by their sire anywhere, anytime, summoned and even compelled to obey. Nature had intended it as a built-in safety feature. If you sired someone, you were responsible for them. You had to take care of them until they could control themselves—and once in a rare while you had to take control for them so they wouldn’t hurt themselves or anybody else.
The potential for the misuse of such power wasn’t a concern in most cases, since siring was usually done between mates. And the power of the sire wore off naturally with time, just as the need for it dissipated. His own mother had sired his father, and their loving relationship had now spanned centuries. Jessie had sired Bill just over a decade ago, and she wouldn’t dream of so much as compelling him to take out the garbage. But Bernie was selfish at best, vicious and sadistic at worst. As a sire, he could force Zoey to do almost anything against her will. And he was no longer in control of himself. The fact that he had attacked a human being proved that.
Connor was sick at heart when he finally let himself into the guestroom, but even so, the sight of Zoey almost tugged the corners of his mouth into a smile. She was deeply asleep, her russet hair a riot of waves over the pillow. She was snoring loudly and her feet hung off the side of the bed. He set about rearranging her, easing her onto her side to quell the snoring. He kissed her forehead and gently pulled the bedding over her.
He’d like nothing more than to slip under the blankets too and hold her tightly. Instead, he settled into an armchair by the window and watched her. He’d never felt so helpless in his life.
A first Change always occurred on a full moon, although an experienced Changeling could shift at will. The light of the half moon glimmered faintly through the window and fell across the bed where Zoey lay. Connor had nineteen days at most to prepare her. Nineteen days to win her trust, reveal my Changeling nature, break the news to her that she’s going to turn into a wolf, and coach her on the upcoming experience. No problem.
Christ.
Zoey awoke to a room ablaze with color. Vibrant sun poured in the window like a golden syrup, making every garish pink rose on the bright yellow quilt, the yellow wallpaper, and the yellow rug stand out with appalling clarity. She squinted at the spectacle, wishing she’d stopped at a couple or three or five drinks. This kind of decor could be fatal to anyone with a hangover, and she had a whopper.
She sat up on the edge of the bed with a groan, and stayed there for several moments until she was sure her brain wasn’t going to burst from the change in altitude. Eeyew. Her tongue felt like a terrycloth towel left six weeks in a football player’s locker. She needed water, aspirin, and especially a toothbrush. But in the end it was the need to pee that finally persuaded her to make a move. The en suite bathroom didn’t look too far away . . . . Slowly she leaned forward to shift her weight to her legs and paused, hesitant to move further.
“Need a hand?” asked a deep male voice from the other side of the room.
Zoey jerked in surprise and swore as the jolt knifed through her brain. “What the hell are you doing in here?” she whispered fiercely. She didn’t dare yell, although she certainly wanted to. She remained seated and turned—carefully—to peer at Connor through squinted eyes. “Can’t a girl get a little privacy? I’m not—” She almost said she wasn’t dressed but then realized she’d slept in her clothes. Double eeyew.
“Just watching over you while you slept. Thought that party-crashing wolf might have given you more night-mares.”
“Thanks, but I’ve been able to sleep by myself since I was three.” Aware that Connor’s eyes were on her, she reflexively tried to comb her hair with her fingers. A mistake—even her scalp hurt! She gave up and glared at him as best she could while still keeping her eyelids shuttered against the blinding sunlit colors. Her body protested as she got to her feet only a little awkwardly, straightening her shirt as she swallowed a groan—then headed for the en suite bathroom with as much dignity as she could muster.
The bathroom turned out to be worth the trip, and not just because her bladder had been fit to burst. There was a welcome bottle of acetaminophen on the counter, a pitcher of ice water, a glass, and a brand-new toothbrush. Beside the fresh towels was a soft fleece jogging suit and a T-shirt with a note: Thought these might fit you. Jessie.
Zoey peeled her own clothes off gratefully, although every joint and muscle ached almost as much as her head. She didn’t drink often, but she’d sure made up for it last night. Three drinks at least before Lowen showed up. She lost count of how many she’d had afterward with Devlin. She checked her injured leg and was relieved that the wounds hadn’t bled through the bandages. Something to be grateful for. But Lowen had been unable to tell her why her leg had been bleeding in the first place, just suggested that maybe she hadn’t been taking it easy enough. She supposed that could be true. After all, what had she done all afternoon? There’d been a fire, a big one, and she’d run around interviewing, photographing . . . She hadn’t sat down for what, five hours? Six? Maybe she did need to take it easier. Elevate her leg, apply ice, and do everything that Connor had initially told her to do days ago and Lowen had reiterated last night.
Connor. She was still plenty annoyed that he’d ditched her the night before. Sure, Devlin said he’d gone after the wolf, but couldn’t the man have said something? Was he going to act weird every time they became intimate? Maybe it was the hangover, but she felt even more annoyed that she wanted Connor naked and as soon as possible. It just wasn’t fair to be so damn attracted to somebody you were trying to be mad at.
The shower did a lot to revive her. It was awkward trying to keep her leg out of the shower stall—or at least out of the stream of water—but she managed it. Mostly. She took her time drying her hair, aware that Connor was likely waiting for her, and she was determined to make him wait as long as possible. By the time she was ready to pull on the clothes Jessie had left, she was a lot less stiff—although she was grateful the clothes were soft and pliable. The heather gray of the knit pants and jacket was pleasantly neutral, while the red T-shirt loaned her complexion a little needed color. She surveyed her image in the mirror and decided that she no longer looked as bad as she felt, which was more than she’d hoped for.
She walked out and saw Connor looking out the window, and her eyes automatically took in his masculine backside. Appreciatively. Too appreciatively. Her insides clenched and she averted her gaze at once. She needed to clear the air between them, dammit, and buzzing hormones would only distract her.
“You took off on me,” she said.
He turned around slowly. “Culley and I followed the wolf.”
“Nuh-uh. You took off before it howled. You ditched me without a word and took off.”
“I
knew the animal was there long before it made a sound. I made certain you were all right and then my brother and I went after the wolf.”
The words got through this time. Her eyes were wide open now, despite the way the light stabbed into them. “Wolves,” she corrected. “There were two of them.”
“Right, wolves,” he amended.“I guess I was more focused on the one that attacked you, the one that was about to attack you again.”
“The silver and black one was chasing it,” she persisted. “Didn’t you follow it too?”
“We followed the gray one.”
That seemed more than a little strange to her. The new wolf had seemed intent on tearing apart the gray one. Why would it change its mind and leave once it was on the other side of the fence? She changed her line of questioning. “So you were what, trying to catch it?”
“We were trying to track it. We had the wolf in sight, followed it all the way out to the golf course. And then we lost it.”
She could see more than frustration in his face. His eyes were storm-dark with fury. Anger again, she thought. His brother, Devlin, had been angry last night too. And Zoey hadn’t needed her unpredictable psychic abilities to tell her that Jessie would like nothing better than to get her hands on someone or something. Yet all of them had been genuinely pleasant, even smiling. Nothing but concern was directed at her. The white-hot temper lurking beneath their friendly faces was all for the wolf. Why? It didn’t fit, it just didn’t seem like the right reaction to her. Who gets mad at a wild animal?
“So it’s definitely the same wolf, the one that bit me?” she asked Connor.
He nodded curtly.
“And now there’s another one. How many goddamn wolves are wandering the streets of Dunvegan?” How long before someone else gets attacked? The thought made her ill. “This is all my fault. I should have stuck with the truth and told readers about the wolf in the first place. I shouldn’t have let the authorities pass it off. I should have yelled and screamed and beat on the police station desk until somebody listened to me.” She closed her eyes for a moment and opened them when strong arms slipped around her.
