Touch of the Wolf

by Karen Whiddon

  He had watched enough television to understand what the flat line on the monitor meant. “No,” he moaned, starting toward her again.

  This time, no one blocked him.

  “She’s gone,” a gray-haired nurse said, eyes soft with pity. “I’m terribly sorry.”

  He refused to listen, to believe. Not Sam, born to be a healer. Born to be his mate.

  One by one the humans filed out of the room. Dimly he registered the room emptying, conscious of Patricia hanging in the doorway. None of that mattered. Only Sam.

  Luc let his gaze travel over her. She appeared to be sleeping. They’d turned off all the machines. She lay still and peaceful, showing no sign of any illness or heart defect or whatever had killed her.

  “What was wrong with her?” he rasped, rounding on Patricia so violently she recoiled.

  Shaking her head, she began to sob, her shoulders heaving.

  Disregarding her for now—he’d have his answers eventually—Luc moved closer to the woman born to be with him. Sam.

  Her lips were blue, her eyes closed. She was resting peacefully, but not for one night. For eternity.

  A howl built in him, and he bit the side of his mouth to keep even a shred of sound from escaping.

  His mate.

  Now lost to him forever.

  What kind of fate had been given to him, to forever lose the ones he loved?

  Sam.

  Healer, heal yourself.

  Please.

  Luc bent down to kiss her.

  And felt the faintest bit of breath against his lips.

  In disbelief, he stared. His heart stuttered, then began to pound.

  Behind him, Patricia dropped into a chair, still weeping.

  Out in the hall, he could hear nurses talking, asking the doctor if he wanted to sign off yet.

  Luc did not summon them back, knowing they would only get in his way.

  Bending over her, he gathered her lifeless body in his arms. Slowly, rose and cream began to color her skin, chasing away the gray. Her breath hitched, she coughed and her chest rose and fell.

  “What the—?” Jumping up from her chair, Patricia hurried over. With a fierce glare of warning, Luc stopped her from coming too close.

  Pressing his lips against Sam’s mouth, he gently kissed her. She sighed, stirring, snuggling into his chest.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” The doctor’s voice sounded furious. “Security has been notified and I’m ordering you removed from this hospital.”

  Luc ignored him. Patricia did not. “She…” Words failed her. She could only point.

  Continuing to hold her, Luc kissed the tip of Sam’s nose, her jaw and finally the hollow of her throat, where he could see her heartbeat growing stronger.

  Two men in uniforms pushed through the doorway. “Arrest that man,” the doctor cried. As they moved forward, Luc lifted his head to meet the man’s furious gaze.

  “What is wrong with you?” the doctor asked. “What did you do to her?”

  “She lives,” Luc said simply.

  “Don’t touch him,” Sam ordered weakly from the circle of his arms. “He saved my life.”

  Staring at both of them, Patricia slowly shook her head. “You know, I think he really did.”

  “The machines all read normal,” a nurse said.

  The doctor looked from one to the other. Finally, he crossed to Sam, shining a light into her eyes. “I don’t know what happened here, but I need to examine you.”

  Immediately, the nurse chased Luc and Patricia from the room. Luc allowed this, now that Sam was in no danger.

  Later, when they’d finished exclaiming over miracles, and had examined every single inch of Sam, they finally allowed Luc back in to see her.

  Still resting, she opened her eyes when he entered the room. “I felt you,” she told him, her gaze searching his.

  “I…” To his mortification, he felt tears fill his eyes. “I didn’t want you to die.”

  “Did you heal me?”

  The simple question floored him. “No. I think you healed yourself.”

  “Ahhh.” She closed her eyes, apparently satisfied by his explanation. “I didn’t want to leave you.” And she drifted off to sleep.

  The next morning, a nurse informed Sam that certain abnormalities in her blood had them wanting to run endless tests on her. Sam allowed it, until Luc told her to make them stop. When Patricia, who seemed to have come to an uneasy truce as far as Luc was concerned, agreed with him, Sam refused all further tests.

  “Especially since you already know what’s wrong with you,” her friend said.

  Sam stared. Had Patricia told Luc? With a sinking feeling, she realized she didn’t know what had happened while she’d been unconscious.

  “Your heart stopped twice,” Luc told her, answering her unspoken question as though he’d read her mind. “The third time, they were unable to resuscitate you. By the time I got to you, they’d pronounced you dead.”

  She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his. Despite his expressionless face, she sensed the depth of his vulnerability, hidden below the surface.

  Oblivious to the dangerous currents, Patricia stepped forward and took up where Luc had left off. “No one knows what happened. They’re calling you a medical miracle. One minute your heart had stopped beating. The next, you drew a breath and appear to be as good as new. Except for whatever you’ve got in your blood.”

  “My blood work always comes back abnormal, you know that.” Feeling irrationally cross, Sam inhaled. “But no one knows what happened to me?” Staring at Patricia, she knew her friend would understand her question.

  “Of course not.” Her friend cut her eyes toward Luc. “Though some people are trying awfully hard to find out.”

  Luc’s shuttered expression never changed. His eyes reminded her of the wolves she’d long seen in her dreams.

  Feeling as though he could see into her soul, Sam shivered. “I’d like to go home.”

  “Dr. Leiber won’t discharge you. He’s hoping to talk you into more blood work.”

  “He’ll sign the paperwork.” The certainty in Luc’s voice sounded almost like a threat. “Let me go find him.” He stalked out of the room.

  “What’s with him?” Sam asked, feeling his absence as sharply—and absurdly—as though they were tethered at the hip. “Why’s he acting so weird?”

  Patricia shrugged. “You should have seen him when he thought you’d died.” She looked pensive. “I think he really cares about you, Sam. He took you in his arms and held you. That was touching enough, but what killed me were the tears streaming down his face. And when he started kissing you—your mouth, nose, neck, everything—I started crying myself. The whole thing was really intense.”

  “He cried?” Sam couldn’t believe Luc had done such a thing. But then, she found it difficult to believe she’d nearly died. All she remembered was falling asleep and then waking up in the hospital with him in a chair by her side.

  By her side. With her, where he belonged.

  Frowning at the absurd thought, Sam rubbed her eyes. “Tell me you didn’t reveal what I did with Tubby.”

  “Of course not!” From the indignant sound of her voice, Patricia must be shocked she’d even ask such a thing.

  “Good,” Sam breathed in relief. “Right now I just want to go home and put this entire thing behind me.”

  “Promise me you’ll never try to heal two in one day again.”

  “What about Tubby? Is he all right?”

  “He’s better than you. Now come on, promise.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Aching and tired, Sam tried to smile, but the effort was too much for her.

  The doctor appeared in the doorway, followed by Luc. “What’s this nonsense about you wanting to go home?”

  Sam nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t release you. Until we find out what caused this problem—”

  “I’m leaving.”

 
Frowning, Dr. Leiber looked from Sam to Patricia to Luc. “Isn’t anyone going to try and talk some sense into her?”

  No one responded. Finally, the doctor sighed. “If your heart arrests again, you will die. The damage will be far too much for you to recover from.”

  “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Sam promised.

  If anything, his frown deepened. “This is serious, young lady.”

  She apologized. Still grumbling, Dr. Leiber signed her release and left. Patricia handed Sam her clothes and helped her to the bathroom. “We’ll wait out here.”

  “I’m driving her home,” Luc said. His tone brooked no argument. “She and I need to talk.”

  Listening through the bathroom door, Sam waited for her friend to disagree. But this time, Patricia murmured assent. Too drained to summon up her own argument, Sam dressed and emerged from the bathroom.

  “Ready?” Luc asked.

  When she nodded, he stepped closer. She could swear she felt heat radiating from his powerful body. The urge to touch him, to check for herself, had her wrapping her arms around her middle.

  “Take care of yourself.” Patricia hugged her. “I’m going to head on home and get some sleep. You do the same now, you hear?”

  “I will.”

  Luc helped Sam to the car, his arm firmly around her waist. Once again, at his touch she felt better. Stronger. Shooting a glance at him to see if he knew, she caught him studying her, a soft look in his eyes.

  “I feel better,” she said, as he opened the passenger door for her.

  “Good.” Adjusting her seat belt, he brushed her hair away from her neck, making her shiver. “We do need to talk.”

  Too tired to dispute it, she leaned her head back against the seat.

  Instead of taking her home, he drove to a local steak house.

  “Wait here.” He disappeared inside. A few moments later he returned, two plastic take-out boxes in hand. “Rare steak,” he said as he got back into the car. “There’s nothing better for getting your strength up.”

  Immediately, her mouth began to water. She had to forcibly restrain herself from opening the container and gnawing on the meat as he drove.

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  Luc took her home, again slipping his arm around her to help her walk to the door. She gave in to the urge to lean her head on his broad shoulder, which made him smile.

  Once inside, they sat in the kitchen. Luc watched her while she devoured the steak, so rare the blood made gravy. When she’d finished, he reached across the table and threaded his fingers through hers.

  “Sam, I need to ask you again.” His low, gentle tone brought irrational tears to her eyes. “Did you heal the cat and Tubby? Was healing them the reason you almost died?”

  She bit her lip. Should she tell this man she barely knew? But despite the shortness of their acquaintance, even now, though her heart pounded, she ached for him. No matter what else he might be, he was no stranger. The mysterious connection they shared made her certain of that. The feelings he aroused in her had nothing to do with reason.

  Neither did her gift.

  If she told him what she could do, would he ever believe she couldn’t heal people, especially a sick little girl who was dying?

  Then Sam thought of Patricia’s niece with chicken pox, and realized all she had to do was invite him to witness the test. If she failed to heal that child, he’d have no choice but to stop looking at her as a potential miracle worker for Lucy.

  Of course, considering how this last healing had depleted her, Sam figured the chicken pox could have gone away on its own before she had enough strength to heal again.

  Observing Luc through lowered lashes, she saw tenderness and desire rather than impatience in his face. The play of emotions across his features decided her—that and the knowledge that he’d somehow brought her back from the dead, even if he didn’t know it.

  “Sam? Did you heal those animals?”

  Closing her eyes and inhaling, she felt as if she were about to take a flying leap off a ledge without a net. “I did,” she whispered. “And Tomas. I healed Tomas Barerra as well.”

  Luc’s sharp intake of breath and sudden stillness told her what her answer meant to him. “Look at me, Sam.”

  Slowly, she did.

  “Ah, Sam.” Crossing the distance between them, he kissed her, the driven, desperate kiss of a man drowning. Her fear and hesitation fled as she moved her lips against his. With a glad cry of welcome, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drank as deeply of him as he did of her.

  Finally, they broke apart. Resting his forehead against hers, he kissed the tip of her nose. “Is healing always so dangerous for you? You almost died today, all because you healed that poodle.”

  “Not only the poodle. I healed the cat this morning. Two so close together took too much of my energy.” From somewhere she summoned a smile. “I know better than to try to do that again.”

  He inhaled sharply and she saw the question on his face even before he asked. “Will you come and try to heal Lucy? Without your help, she won’t live to see four.”

  The knife lodged in her stomach twisted. “Luc, I can’t heal people. I tried to tell you that. I can only heal animals.”

  Again he stood. She chanced a glance at him through her lashes. He seemed pensive rather than disturbed or angry.

  “You truly don’t know.”

  “Know what?”

  As he opened his mouth to reply, his cell phone rang. Frank again. Clenching his jaw, Luc answered.

  “I’ve set you up a meeting,” the mayor stated, after the requisite niceties.

  “A meeting with whom?”

  “A local Pack member out there. They called the New York council and wanted us to arrange something. Not only did they know you were in Texas, but they knew about the potential healer.”

  Luc rubbed the back of his neck. “Getting their dibs in early, aren’t they?”

  Frank snorted. “You know politics. You play nice, they’ll play nice, and everyone wins.”

  Luc had never gotten good grades in playing well with others. “I’ll do what I can.” He jotted down directions Frank gave him to the meeting place and time. Then checking his watch, Luc growled. “You haven’t given me much leeway.”

  “What? You’ve got a couple of hours. Surely you can get from one end of that town to the other by then.”

  Though that wasn’t the point, Luc let it go. “I’m bringing Sam.”

  “Who?”

  “Samantha Warren. The healer.” He snapped the phone closed before Frank could reply, concluding the call.

  Watching him, Sam slowly shook her head. “Please don’t call me that. You don’t know for certain if I am what you’re looking for. Actually, I’m not sure I believe any of this myself.”

  He smiled tightly. “Do you feel well enough to go out to eat?”

  “Now? We just had steak.”

  “In a couple of hours. There’s someone I have to meet.”

  “I think so,” she said, then yawned. “Let me take a short nap.”

  He started to agree, but before he could say anything, Sam had already fallen asleep.

  Ninety minutes later, loath to wake her, Luc left her asleep in her bed and got in his car alone. The drive to Jack’s Grill on the Water took all of ten minutes. He’d noticed the place before—apparently the owners had done major renovations. In addition to brand-new wood framing and sparkling windows, the streamers and spotlight and huge neon sign proclaiming We’re Open Again! ! was a huge tip-off.

  Since he was early, Luc took a table against the wall with a good view of the door. The dinner crowd hadn’t yet filled the place, though there were several guests already seated, enjoying early meals.

  When an attractive young couple entered, Luc met the woman’s direct gaze and knew. These were the people whom Frank wanted him to meet.

  While they crossed the room toward him, he studied them. The woman was tall, blond, be
autiful and Pack. The human man at her side couldn’t take his eyes off her. Luc knew the feeling—he felt the same way around Sam.

  Approaching his table, the woman met his gaze. Her nostrils flared as she checked his scent. A second later, she dipped her chin in a short nod of acknowledgment. “Luc Herrick?”

  Standing, he held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “I’m Jewel Reynolds. This is my husband, Colton.”

  The two men shook hands while she watched with an indulgent smile.

  Suddenly, Luc realized where he’d seen her. “You were—”

  “Yes.” She cut him off, her smile slipping a notch. “Married to a gangster, in the Witness Protection Program and on the run.” She took a deep breath. “Now I live here in Anniversary with my mate. We just got back from our honeymoon.”

  Shaking the other man’s hand, Luc grimaced. “I’m sorry. I meant no harm.”

  “No problem.” Colton reached over and massaged his wife’s neck. The tension in her slender shoulders seemed to instantly dissolve.

  Staring at the two of them, who were leaning into each other as though they’d both found their rock, Luc thought about Jewel’s comment that she and Colton were mates. Most shifters dreamed of finding the one, though some pretended to disbelieve any such romantic nonsense.

  Luc had always been squarely in the middle, not sure if he believed or not.

  Until he’d met Sam. If she was a healer as well as his mate, that would make two myths solid reality.

  Mates. He wanted to ask Jewel if she’d known immediately, but wasn’t sure if that would offend her.

  Taking their seats, they all ordered beers. Once the waitress had moved off, Jewel leaned across the table. “I’ve kept my membership in the New York Pack, though I’m now also part of Texas. That’s why I’m here.”

  Luc nodded.

  “Of course, you understand Texas has a vested interest in this woman who might be a potential healer. The Pack is also very concerned about a stray shifter who’s been showing himself to townspeople in this area. I don’t have to tell you what a pain in the ass that is. Worse, rumor has it that he’s also after the healer.”

  Chapter 7

  That wasn’t good news. Frowning, Luc crossed his arms. “How’d he find out about her?”