by Casey Lane
The elevator door opened. “Derek. I have wine for you.”
His corn silk hair artfully disheveled, Derek De Luca bowed his head to her, one hand on his heart. “I appreciate it, cara.” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you having a change of heart? Are you finally ready to let me love you?”
“Wine, and a scolding. You left the front doors unlocked. You know they’re supposed to lock no later than eleven. The system works to buzz the nurse’s desk, correct?” She lifted her chin, mental shields in place.
He frowned, obviously surprised. “Cara. Of course it does. It should have been fine. Who says it wasn’t?”
“Gregor Caine. It was open when he came in at midnight.”
His eyebrows rose. “Gregor never did like me.” He came toward her, all fluid grace, and sat next to her on the couch. Accepted the glass from her with a graceful nod.
“We both know that the Caines prefer to not think about me, Megan. I am an anomaly in their world. They would be happier to dispose of me than allow me to stay here.”
“As long as you do your job, you can stay. But that means do your job.” She scowled at him.
Derek lifted a hand to her cheek, traced the line of it. “You’ve been working late tonight. Who did you save this time?”
She cradled her wine and fought down a shiver at the chill of his touch. She caught his knowing smile and shifted away from him. His hand fell away from her face.
“Kellan Caine. I fixed his body, but he’s mentally worn out, and I don’t know how to enforce any sort of healing on that level. I can plant the suggestion, but that is all.”
“He’ll live. The Caines are annoying that way.” The vampire sipped appreciatively. “You always have the best taste in wine.”
“Since you taught me how to drink it, that rather goes without saying.” She eyed him with speculation, Gregor’s words circling in her tired mind. “Why aren’t you out there in the world, visiting all those places you haven’t seen in decades? Why are you hanging around a hospital?”
“So we are going to have this dance?” He swirled the wine in his glass. “You know I am more than attracted to you.”
“Seriously, D. Why are you still here?” She wrapped a protective arm around her waist. “There are so many other wonderful places in this world. And let's be honest. You aren't truly attracted to me. It's just a game you play.”
He lifted his glass to her, his face as unreadable as ever. “I never play a game I don't intend to win."
“As if I'm a prize.” Discontented, she downed half her wine. “Drink up and go, then. Take your undead self out of here and let me rest.”
His eyes glittered with emotion. “I want you, Megan. In my bed. Come to the basement. Be with me tonight. Be mine. Let me care for you.”
A confused longing swept through her. He was what she had thought she wanted. For the past decade, he had been there. Her companion, friend even, but not one that had ever looked at her in a sexual sense. But now that he had asked...something stopped her.
“You've always told me the Fae don’t taste good.” She shook her head. “I'm used to your teasing, but for the first time, you sound serious. I don’t understand the turnaround. Why me?”
“Why not you?”
Megan set her wine down and pressed her hands together. “You’re not making any sense.”
He straightened from his lazy pose and angled toward her, his eyes brilliant with an emotion she could not name. “Why not us, Megan?”
“But why now?” She dragged her hand through her hair and stared at him, exasperated. “We both know I hero-worshipped you when I was younger. Then…I was on my own, and you never looked at me in any sort of…hungry…way. Of any kind.”
“Your father—”
Megan’s cheeks grew hot “Don’t go there. Not now. Not ever.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Still? After all these years? After all he did for you?”
She jumped up, agitated. “After all he banished me from? My homeland, to be exact? Don’t try me, Derek. I’m tired, sad, pissed off, and more than willing to do a full body-bind on you. Remember how you enjoyed that?” She glared at him, her body pulsing with need. “I’ll leave you in the sun, in the windows.”
“No you won’t.” Derek stood, slid her glass from her hand and set it on the end table beside him before drawing her close. “You are right, cara. I knew you saw me with starry eyes when you were younger. I have waited for you to see me not as an idol, but as a man. Did I wait too long?”
Megan put her hands on his hard chest, glanced up into his deep brown eyes. He’d been one of two men who starred in her fantasies at night, but apparently the sex gene, or the flirtatious gene of the Fae, had skipped her entirely, because she hadn’t ever known how to approach him as a potential lover. She searched his eyes, but as usual she couldn’t read him. She sighed.
Apparently Derek took her sigh as one of permission, and bent his mouth to her.
His lips were like a cool breeze on a scorching hot, Santa Ana, windy kind of day. She let him tease her, let him take her breath away as he pulled her tighter against the length of his cold, hard body, but her mind stayed curiously apart.
He was cold against her heat, and oh, so careful with her as he explored her mouth. One hand came up to cradle her head, and she opened to him, breathless, her mind searching. Is he the one? She couldn’t tell.
“Stop thinking, cara.” His breath chilled along her neck and she shivered.
She stiffened in defense. “I can’t help it. That’s who I am.” She pulled away and wrapped her arms around her torso.
Derek leaned in and tipped her face to his. Kissed her gently. “I’ll go now, as I sense I have worn out my welcome.”
He moved away, took their glasses to the kitchen. She tracked his movements, surprised when he lifted her glass.
“Do you want a refill? To help you sleep?”
An ache bloomed in her chest, and it took a moment for her to find her voice. “Yes, please.”
He brought her a half-filled glass, and kissed her once more, softly. “At least give us some thought, cara. At least do that.” When she didn’t reply, he sighed and went to the elevator.
She held herself tightly until he disappeared.
Sagging in relief, she sipped the wine he brought to her and thought. Derek, trying to be a lover, after all these years? She shook her head and danced off that subject to the other one uppermost in her mind.
He’d tried to divert her attention from her past with his kiss, but it was too late. Her mind went there, and stuck.
When her father had left, he’d laid a charge on her to stay in the human world, to provide what service she could. He told her to never return to the Fae Plane. No other explanation from him was forthcoming, and her pleading for one fell on deaf ears.
Yes, it had been decades at that point since she’d been home. Yes, she’d come to love it here in this hot city, swarming with humanity and the paranormal, smashing up against each other with humanity, for the most part, unaware.
But he’d taken her trust, her faith, her love, and smashed it to pieces when he told her to never come home.
Gods. Why now? Why did her past come up and slap her down when a man, okay, a vampire, finally made a move on her? Still, he had been her young-adult crush. She should have gotten over him years ago.
Megan took her unfinished glass of wine into the kitchen before she headed to her bedroom, tears slipping down her cheeks. Whether the tears were because Derek left her, or her stupid history with her dad, she didn’t bother to work out.
She had slipped off her silk pajama pants and stretched when she heard the elevator ding, signaling it’s imminent arrival.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” If it were Derek again, he’d get a piece of her mind. She picked up the katana she kept handy, went to the elevator, and held it ready. Dear Daddy had made sure she could fight and kill a vampire before he left her behind.
The elevator dinged, and
the doors slid open silently.
The gorgeous man inside had her tightening her grip on the sword. She knew his face. Her mind froze. She’d been prepared to take out a vampire, not this man from her dreams.
This man she never believed existed.
He took a stumbling step toward her, his teal eyes panicked, until they rolled up in his head and he passed out, landing with a thud, half in and half out of the elevator.
She stared, but he didn’t move. The elevator let out its blaring noise, wanting the doors closed.
Adrenalin surged through her. She gripped the man under his armpits and tugged. He didn’t move. Megan closed her eyes and dug deep inside her for the power of the land. Strength flowed through her body, and she slid him easily out of the elevator. The doors closed silently.
She studied him, sprawled out on her apartment floor. Damn it, how did he get in? The elevator button for the fifth floor was impossible to see if you didn’t already know it was there.
And of course, Derek would have set the locks. Especially after she pointed out the earlier deficiency. Where was he? Why hadn’t Derek known this man was here, and on her floor? How did he even get to her floor?
None of this made any sense.
Megan knelt beside the man and debated rolling him over. The need to see his face again made her decision for her.
Tightening her belly muscles, she gripped him on the far side and tugged toward her, slowly rolling him over onto his back. At the pallor on his face, she switched into doctor mode.
She pulled his eyelid gently up and looked into his eye, frowned at the utter blankness she found there. Not the usual, even when the patient was asleep. As she watched, a fog seemed to steal across the teal blue of his iris.
“Poison,” she muttered, shocked. “Wine. He needs wine…” Scrabbling to her feet, she fetched the unfinished wine from the kitchen and lifted up her patient, dribbled the wine into his mouth.
His swallowing capabilities hadn’t yet diminished, and she kept pouring it until he finished the glass and muttered incoherently. Megan let him down again gently and raced to her bedroom to grab her phone and her pajama pants before getting back to him. Keeping one hand on him, she called downstairs to the nurse’s station and gave a few orders, her heart hammering hard.
This was no longer a job she could do herself. This looked an awful lot like an assassination attempt. And if so, she wanted the power of the Caine clan behind them.
Once she had him safely in a room on the fourth floor, Megan brushed the silky hair off her patient’s face and did a quick magickal body scan.
“I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here my man, but you're not totally human, I know that much. How did you walk out of my dreams? Why tonight?” The echoes of her conversation with Derek disturbed her. She sucked in a breath, aware that this man might not live. Might never be more than a dream become flesh before he died.
She put her hands on his face, leaned down to him, close to his ear. “Stay with me. I’ll be damned if I let you die on my watch. Not when you’ve finally found me.”
His arm jerked, and his hand reached for hers. Clung to hers. His eye lashes fluttered, and his lips worked as if he were trying to speak.
“No. Don’t. I’ve got you. You’re safe here.” When his actions grew more frantic, she settled her free hand over his heart, and slipped into his mind.
I’ve got you, warrior. I will keep you safe. Can you tell me what happened?
I’m wolf…
Hell. Wolf? She went deep into his body, to see if she could figure out how the poison was administered, but nothing stuck out to her except the ever-slowing beat of his heart. Growing anxious, she searched harder, a rising sense of panic making it difficult to keep a clear head.
Carla and Jill arrived at the same time, interrupting her concentration. “Jill, call the Caine homestead, tell them I’ve got an unconscious wolf on my hands.” Megan retrieved her stethoscope and listened to his heart. The beat was sluggish, slow.
She took a breath and went deep into his body. Sensed the blood pulsing in his veins as if it took all his energy to get the blood where it needed to go. What sort of poison would…Wolfsbane? Had someone deliberately used wolfsbane against this wolf? Because that meant murder, or worse. Wolves couldn’t push wolfsbane out of their systems. Neither could she, not even with her powers. Natural remedies worked the best, so...
“Carla. Grab my herbal bag from my office, and be quick.” At the astonishment on her nurse’s face, she growled. “Go. Now.”
Megan spent the next few minutes measuring his heartbeat, which seemed to slow with every agonizing minute until the nurses were back.
Jill reported back. “I called the Caines. Gregor said he’d send Justin since he’s closer. Do you want me to go back to Kellan?”
“Don’t bother, he’s monitored. Just stay at the nurse’s station until Jose comes in at three. Carla, I’ll need you to monitor this patient’s heartbeat while I mix an antidote. Keep your hand on his chest and keep up a steady stream of mental reassurance. You know how.”
Carla grinned. “It’ll be my pleasure, entirely. Even though he does smell of the wolf.”
“He’s still our patient, wolf or no.” Megan raised an eyebrow at the part-Fae nurse. “Remember, I’ll be right here, doing the mixing.”
“Yes, boss.” But Carla’s eyes twinkled, and Megan laughed in spite of the fear that gripped her.
She turned to the bag that held all her medicinal herbs and sorted through the tinctures until she found what she needed and pulled out two vials. She shook them both, opened and sniffed them.
Nodded. These herbs will work. Pouring half a cup of distilled water into a cup, she carefully added the first tincture. It turned the water into a brownish mess as she added it, drop-by-drop, careful not to overdo it. She added one drop of the second tincture, then another. Put the vial aside, stirred the cup, and sniffed. “It’ll have to do,” she muttered.
Megan moved to her patient’s side. She flicked a glance to Carla. “Go wait for Justin Caine. Bring him to me the minute he arrives.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Carla patted the patient’s hand as she laid it on the bed and bustled out.
Megan looked at her patient and sighed. He needed to sit up now to swallow. She raised the head of the bed with a switch, and lowered the guardrail on one side and sat next to him. Opening his mouth, she poured a little of the warm medicine onto his tongue. Her other hand rested on his heart, monitoring the heavy beat.
By instinct, he closed his mouth and swallowed, and she rejoiced. The wine had done its work, and it wasn’t too late. Bit by bit, she encouraged him to continue to swallow what she put into his mouth, keeping one hand on his heart.
As the level of the liquid in the cup lowered, his heartbeat grew steadier. Still slow, slower than she liked, but stronger. Most definitely stronger.
She set the cup aside and, keeping her hand on his heart, held his hand with her other one and slowly began to sing a healing song.
Her eyes drifted closed as she sang, and she realized how very tired she was. But she sang, and her song was for him. A song of health, of hope, of pack. Of the memories she had of him, in her dreams.
A noise behind her let her know another Caine had arrived. Megan opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder, but he was blurry to her sight.
“Justin?”
“I’m here, Doc. You’re wiped out, aren’t you?”
“It’s poison. He’s a were, Justin.”
“That’s what I understand. Let’s get you to your apartment.”
Her patient’s hand gripped hers convulsively, and his heart rate sped up.
She shook her head. “I need to stay. He may need more medicine, and I need to stay.”
“You need to sleep, too.”
Megan heard the exasperation in his voice, then felt his witchy wife, Maggie, joining them.
“Megan is right where she needs to be, love. Step aside, please.”
Maggie’s hand was cool on Megan’s forehead, just a light touch before her fingers moved to the patient’s wrist, felt for the heartbeat.
“You did say he’s a wolf?”
“Yes. He reached to me mentally before he went completely unconscious. He’s been poisoned with wolfsbane.” She frowned. “Now that I think about it, he couldn’t have been too far from the hospital when it happened, or he’d be dead.”
Megan watched as Maggie picked up the cup and sniffed.
“Smells right. Now strip, Megan.”
The shock woke her up. She stared at her friend. “What?”
The witch smiled. “You need to sleep. He needs a warm body to help him heal. Strip.”
At Megan’s protest, Maggie raised an eyebrow. “This is something you need to do. For him, and for you. It’s the only way you’ll get sleep. And it’s the best way for him to heal.”
"I'll take care of things on this floor, Doc. Don't worry. We've got this." Justin winked, and the two left the room.
Megan stood, kicked off her shoes, and dropped her pajama pants to the floor. Hesitated a moment before stripping off her top, as well, before climbing into bed with her patient. One hand on his heart, she felt his arm come around her. As she slipped into sleep, she had the irrational feeling of coming home.
As if the two of them had merely been separated for a moment, and had slept together like this for years.
Chapter Two
The night air stank of violence. The hills rang with the sound of wolves snarling and howling.
Raven raced through the underbrush, desperate to get back to his tribe. The most habitable area of the reservation for wolf shifters lay alongside the hills, where a program to re-introduce the Mexican Gray Wolf to the area had been set up a few years ago. Normally, their location made him feel safe.
Tonight, under the baleful watch of the full moon, their homestead felt too isolated, too far away from the rest of their small tribe, the non-werewolf part. He ran, his heart pumping, his mind frozen with fear.
