by Tara West
“Do you remember how to get to the lodge?”
The elder raised a feeble finger and pointed right.
He drove slowly, hitting every pothole and narrowly missing trees. He kept stopping to mop his eyes and scratch his arms. Had he gotten into poison ivy? They itched like crazy. It consumed him so badly, he’d forgotten to drive and rolled to a stop at the edge of a ditch.
He scratched and scratched until he bled. Still, his skin burned.
He jumped at a sharp rap on his window.
He stared into the familiar face of a scowling girl with pretty blue eyes and long black hair. He knew her, didn’t he? He rolled down the window, wondering if he was in a dream.
“What the fuck, Luc?” she snapped. “Why would you leave me behind?”
“Do I know you?”
“It’s me, Annie. You don’t know your own cousin?” Her eyes bulged when she looked at his arms. “Holy fuck, Luc.” She jerked open the door. “Move over.”
He tried to, but something was holding him back. Swearing, she unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed him over.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked.
“To Amara,” she said.
“Oh. She’s my mate,” he said, proud of himself for remembering. He scratched again as he tried to recall his mate’s face, but all he could visualize was her sobbing into her hands. Why would Amara cry? He had a sickening feeling in his gut that he’d somehow upset her. That sick feeling raced into his throat, and he vomited all over the dashboard, splattering the window with what looked like buckets of green slime.
The woman beside him shrieked, but Luc was too sick to care. He curled into himself and rested his head against a bony knee.
Chapter Eleven
THE CLINIC HAD BEEN emptied of everyone except Eilea. Now the time had come for her to go to the lodge. She looked around her empty clinic with a mixture of relief and sorrow. What she was sorry for, she had no idea. She was going to turn in her resignation anyway.
After expelling a quivering breath and shaking nervous energy out of her hands, she spied Jovan’s borrowed truck barreling into the drive. She followed Boris outside, stopping when he thrust an arm behind him.
“Are you ready?” he asked over his shoulder.
She shrugged. “As I’ll ever be.”
Jovan barreled at her like a runaway train, swooping her in his arms before she could react.
The air expelled from her lungs when he dumped her in the passenger seat. He practically flew over the hood of the truck and jumped into the driver’s seat, throwing the truck into drive and peeling out of the parking lot. She looked behind her to see Boris standing in the bed of the truck, holding onto the bars as Jovan practically drove on two wheels around each bend in the road.
“Don’t you think you should slow down?” she asked, clutching the dashboard like a lifeline.
Jovan kept his gaze centered on the road. “Nu,” he said tersely, then added. “Keep your eyes open for any signs.”
“Signs of what?” she asked, then screamed when Jovan slammed on the brakes and a huge branch tumbled down in front of them.
Boris jumped out of the truck, shifting into beast form. He moved the branch with one arm and waved them forward. Jovan hit the gas again, not even waiting for Boris to get back in the truck. She was shocked to see Boris keeping pace.
Her jaw practically hit the floorboards when he soared through the air, first as a behemoth beast, then as a wolf, and finally landing in the truck bed as a naked human.
Jesus Christ, these shifters must spend a fortune on clothes.
He grabbed onto the bars again, bracing muscular legs while his flesh snake swung like a windsock in a hurricane. Her face burned when Jovan caught her looking at Boris’s appendage.
He grinned wickedly. “All of the Lupescus are blessed by the Ancients, lubirea mea.”
She turned away, shivering from a sudden icy chill. Oh, fuck.
Jovan stomped on the brakes again when a boulder rolled toward them.
Boris flew out of the back of the truck once more, stopping the boulder with a roar. Jovan kept on driving, and his brother caught up.
“Did this happen on your other trips?” she asked Jovan.
He grimaced. “Nu.”
Holy fuck, they were being chased by a jealous ghost who was determined to murder Eilea.
“Well, don’t I feel special?” she said wryly.
Jovan clutched the steering wheel with white knuckles. “You are a better woman than she ever was, and she hates you for it.”
That was the wrong thing to say, because an ear-piercing wail filled the cabin. She cringed, covering her ears, then jumped at the sound of four large explosions. The truck made a jerky dip, then a metallic screech. The tires had burst. Jovan swerved, narrowly missing a tree before coming to a violent halt. She jerked against the seatbelt, and Boris flew over the hood, tumbling through the air as a white wolf and landing on the ground with a yelp.
Jovan jumped out, kicking the panel with a holler. “Get out. We walk from here.”
She slid out the truck and into Boris’s furry arms. A bloody gash in his forehead marred his white fur. “We need to take care of that.”
He shook his heavy jowls. “No time.” His deep baritone rattled her chest.
He ran so fast with her in his arms, the forest became a blur. A shrill demonic wail followed them. She was stunned when tall pines fell into each other. She had to close her eyes or risk losing the stale bagel she’d eaten for breakfast. When she heard a second set of heavy footsteps, she knew Jovan was beside them. She prayed to her god and their gods that they made it to the lodge before Katarina.
AFTER THEY STUMBLED into the lodge like a herd of wild elephants, Eilea heaved a sigh of relief. Chest heaving and furry brow dripping with sweat, Boris set her down, then shifted, thanking Nakomi, who handed him a robe. Jovan waved off Nakomi’s offer of a clean robe and marched back outside to join his other brothers and Drasko on guard duty. Boris wanted to go with Jovan, but Eilea insisted they fix his wound first. Inside, the lodge was as chaotic as outside. The structure was more of a coliseum, with a circular auditorium that sloped like a theater. Instead of chairs, dozens of cots were arranged on the circular rows. The center was a control station with cameras and equipment. Guess Uncle Joe had come through with more supplies. There had to be close to fifty sick people, some of them children, and only Raz, Amara, and Nakomi to help them.
Eilea had no time to address Boris’s injury, as she had to get to work administering IVs to the children, but she was grateful to Amara, who quickly healed his head wound.
She’d secured the first IV and ventilator on a seven-month-old infant when she heard a toilet flush nearby. Her jaw dropped when Jimmy came out. She had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing at his comical appearance. He looked like a skunk, covered head-to-toe in black paint or soot, with a long white stripe running down his backside and a bushy skunk tail pinned to his rear. He was carrying a bundle of bed pads, looking as haggard as a waiter at an all-night diner.
She was glad her mates hadn’t killed him, and his skunk appearance fit his smell. Maybe next time he’d think twice before harassing women.
She berated herself for referring to the Lupescu brothers as her mates. Why did she keep doing that?
Jimmy passed by, keeping his head down and not so much as giving her the side eye. She’d thought the skunk tail was pinned to his bottom, but it appeared to have been shoved up his ass.
“That’s a hell of a wedgie.” Amara laughed and winked at Eilea.
He gave Amara a look that reminded Eilea of a starving dog begging for scraps. “I’m not allowed to remove it.”
Ouch.
“Your new colors look good on you,” Amara continued. “Spray-tan orange was so last decade.”
He scowled but didn’t answer. Eilea shot Amara a warning look. Jimmy had the look of a caged animal, with his shifty and wild eyes. The last thing she needed was fo
r the agent to lash out at Amara.
“Stop provoking him,” she hissed when Amara laughed.
“Why? It’s so much fun. My cousin Annie killed a creep like him, ripped his neck wide open. He’d be a fool to fuck with shifters.”
“That’s the problem,” Nakomi said as she went by carrying an armful of empty bottles. “He is a fool.”
“Wise words,” Eilea mumbled, not daring to voice her support aloud. Nakomi would probably take it as an insult.
“Amara!”
It was Annie, Amara’s cousin. Beside her, Drasko carried Luc Thunderfoot, who hung limply in his brother’s arms.
Her eyes filling with tears, Amara stood when Drasko descended the stairs two at a time and placed Luc on an empty cot.
Annie dropped on an empty cot with a groan.
“What happened?” Amara asked.
Annie said, “He fell ill when we were getting the Mooseneck elders.”
Amara grasped Luc’s flushed face, tears streaming. “Luc, darling, speak to me.”
“Amaaaraa,” Luc rasped. “The baby.”
“He’s fine.” She wiped her eyes, turning to Drasko. “He didn’t show me Luc getting sick.”
Drasko frowned. “Maybe he was sleeping.”
She set to work cleaning Luc with a wet rag. Drasko kissed her cheek. Then he leaned over his brother, nuzzling his shorn hair. “Be strong, brother. We love you.” His voice cracked, and he quickly strode out the door.
Amara’s face fell as she watched him leave. She quickly got back to work cleaning Luc, alternating between sniffling and then scrunching her face so tight, she looked ready to crack.
Eilea’s heart hurt for Amara. She couldn’t imagine the young mother’s fear and suffering. She grabbed a wet cloth and knelt beside her, Annie following her lead. They wordlessly attended Luc. Eilea feared for him. He was burning up, and he’d been covered in green, sticky vomit. She checked his temperature, dismayed when the thermometer read 104°.
After forcing him to drink a few teaspoons of fever reducer, she wiped her eyes with her forearm, shocked to see she’d been crying.
Nakomi went by again, scowling down at Eilea. “Why do you cry for us?” she asked with a sneer. “We are not your people.”
She was too depressed, too distraught to be offended. “I cry because I care,” she said matter-of-factly. Nakomi could believe her or not. She no longer gave a shit what the African shifter thought of her.
Nakomi took dirty rags from Annie and gave her a fresh pan of soapy water. “We do not need your pity.”
A wave of anger rolled over her. Knowing she was taking a risk, she stood, hands clenched into fists. “Amara and Luc are my friends. I’ll cry for them if I want to.”
Lifting her chin, Nakomi glared at Eilea through slitted lids. “Don’t try to fool me with false compassion. You humans are all the same.” She marched away.
“Don’t listen to her.” Annie wrung water out of a rag and cleaned Luc’s leg. “She probably doesn’t mean it.”
“She’s under a lot of stress,” Amara said, laying a cool cloth on Luc’s brow.
Eilea gritted her teeth. “Everyone’s under stress, and she did mean it. She clearly hates me.”
Annie rested a hand on Eilea’s arm, looking at her with luminous blue eyes. “We don’t all think like her.”
“No, but I’m sure more Amaroki do. I need to check the others.”
She held back a fresh wave of tears. Even if she wanted to mate with the Lupescus, tribal prejudice against humans might prevent that from happening. She remembered the goddess’s offer. If she accepted, her genetic makeup, her biochemistry, her very life would change forever. Worse, she’d feel obligated to mate with the Lupescus. Was that what she wanted? She used to think her independence was more important to her than anything. Now she wasn’t so sure.
EILEA WAS SO EXHAUSTED, she could barely see straight. After stumbling into a patient’s bed and nearly stabbing herself with a needle, Raz and Amara insisted she go lie down. Her feet felt like they were encased in buckets of concrete as she trudged toward the private room they’d set up for her.
She felt guilty leaving when more and more Amaroki were piling into the lodge. They needed her, but more importantly, she was terrified she’d have another dream. What if the goddess visited her again? She wasn’t ready to decide if she wanted to become a shifter. Was Amara right that Marius would watch their babies so she could continue being a doctor? And wouldn’t it be amazing to shift into a wolf? To defend herself against creeps like Jimmy? To have a family to come home to each day? Four strong men who wanted to protect and love her? Men who made her libido go wild?
In the end, fatigue won out. She’d be no good to the sick if she didn’t rest. Besides, those who hadn’t succumbed to the sickness yet acted as nurses, and Eilea had more help than she could’ve hoped for.
Her room had a bed and a bathroom with a shower. After she washed the smell of sickness off, she ate a few jerky sticks and a granola bar, then crawled into bed. It wasn’t much bigger than the cots the patients were using, but it felt like heaven, with soft flannel sheets and a fluffy down comforter. She’d just snuggled into her pillow when the door cracked open. Geri stalked toward her like a wolf cornering a rabbit.
She shot up, pulling the comforter close and wishing she was wearing more than a hospital gown.
“What do you want?” she barked, then felt bad for being so harsh. Geri wouldn’t hurt her. She was terrified he’d finish what he’d started earlier. Goddess save her, she wouldn’t have the willpower to stop him.
He pulled a woolen cap off his head, looking sexier than should be legal, with disheveled hair and that crooked, fanged grin. “I’ve come to say goodbye.”
Her heart seized, then quickened. Were they finally taking her advice and returning to Romania? The thought tied her guts in a knot. Though she wanted them far away from this virus, she never thought she’d be so torn up over their leaving. “You’re going home?” she asked, unable to keep the sorrow from her voice. What if they were contagious? What if they made the Romanian tribe sick? Even worse, she wouldn’t be there to help them.
“No.” His smile widened. “But I’m glad to see you don’t want us to go.”
She flushed. Damn. Next, they’d be expecting her to be their barefoot, pregnant, breeding bitch.
“Now that Luc is sick,” he continued, “I’m volunteering to check on the rest of the tribe and see if I can root out the witch.”
She worried her lip, thinking of him out there alone. What if Katarina attacked him? What if a demon did? She’d seen them with axes and knew they were expecting something far worse than the jealous ghost of their dead wife.
“And you can’t get infected because you’ve had demon burn?”
“It’s what Amara tells me.” He sat on the bed. “Is it true you’re leaving the clinic?”
She scooted away from him, pressing her back against the wall. Why did he think he could sit there? “Where did you hear that?”
“From Amara, who heard it from Tatiana.”
Damn that Tatiana. Well, no use hiding her intentions. Maybe she could make them realize how important her medical career was to her, that she wouldn’t be tied down to a boring job or a mundane marriage. “I’m not needed here.”
“We don’t have a good healer in Romania. Perhaps you’d like to open a clinic there.”
“You can’t be serious.”
He nodded eagerly. “We’ve already said we’d allow you to open a clinic in Romania.”
What the ever-loving fuck? “Oh, you’ll allow me?” She shook a fist at him, rage making her blood pressure rise. “How generous of you.”
“We are not used to human women, but I think you are being sarcastic.” He scratched the back of his head. The confused expression on his face would’ve been comical if hadn’t he just made himself out to be a total ass. “Have we done something to offend you?”
Un-fucking-believable. “The mere notio
n of being your breeding machine offends me.”
His face fell. “Then you do not desire us?”
“I didn’t say that.” She cursed her traitorous hormones as an uncomfortable ache throbbed deep in her groin.
“Good, because you’d be lying.” He leaned closer. “I can still smell your desire.”
When he placed a hand on her knee, she thought she’d expire from lust. His fingers practically burned holes through the fabric, setting her skin on fire.
“I can’t help it.”
“Neither can I,” he said and slid over, brushing his lips tenderly across hers. “Should we continue where we left off?”
“We shouldn’t.” But desire rebelled against reason, and her legs fell open, allowing his hand to slide down her thigh.
He nibbled her ear, making a sound that was a cross between a purr and a growl. “It will help you sleep.”
“Your brothers will be angry.” She thrust her hips toward him, gasping when his hand slid lower.
“I will not take your virginity,” he cooed. “I’ll just give you pleasure with my touch.”
Her virginity? Aw, fuck. She’d forgotten about that. She should tell him the truth, but then his hand moved to her mound, cupping her through the fabric, his finger gyrating against her sweet spot.
She threw back her head with a moan. How long had it been since a man had touched her there? She’d missed it badly. “This is a bad idea.” When he stroked faster, she sank into the bed with a shudder.
“Are you sure?” He chuckled, sliding a hand under the blankets. His eyes widened, his fanged smile making him look like the devil himself when he discovered she wasn’t wearing underwear. He slid his index finger down her slick ribbon. “You’re so wet.”
It was true. She was wetter than a Texas thunderstorm. She’d started gushing the moment he walked into the room.
He kissed her softly. Greedily, she opened her mouth to him, threading her fingers through his corn-silk hair. When he slipped his tongue in her mouth, she spread her legs wider, letting him brand her with his touch, and consequences be damned. He tasted like spice and some earthy, unfamiliar scent. Not bad, just different. Arousing. Like his spit had pheromones that made her libido come alive. Crying into his mouth, she clenched his hair by the roots when he stroked her slippery ribbon faster.
