by Bianca D’Arc
Task done, she slid the door open and helped him inside. She aimed him straight for the bed and was unsurprised when he collapsed, face down, on it. She’d already stripped off the bedspread and put a white plastic tablecloth she’d brought with her over the top of the mattress. She would leave as little evidence as possible of their presence here and would do her very best to leave no traces of what would happen here behind when they left.
Helen cleaned as she went, erasing the blood by the door before pulling the heavy drapes over the locked sliding glass door. Only then, did she turn on the bedside light.
She gasped when she finally saw the ruin of Jim’s left thigh. How had he been walking on that? It was still bleeding, and if she didn’t do something soon, he could easily bleed out from that horrific wound. Mouth set in a grim line, she set to work.
*
Hours later, Jim roused from his unconscious state, instantly wary. He didn’t recognize his surroundings as he cautiously peeked out of half-closed eyelids. He gazed around the dimly lit room, realizing he was, most likely, in a hotel room. The furnishings and their arrangement told him that much. He kept going, noting everything he could see from this position.
Jim’s eyes opened completely when his gaze landed on Helen, sunny blonde hair mussed, asleep in a chair in the far corner, next to the bed he was laying on. He moved and heard a crinkle. Only then did he realize he was lying on plastic. White plastic that was stained red in places with his blood.
Memories he thought had only been fanciful dreams, or hallucinations, came to him. Helen had found him on the beach and made him get up. She’d supported him and given of her incredible power to allow him to walk for what felt like miles, but had probably only just been a short distance up the dark beach from the place where he’d been ambushed to the last hotel on the strip.
She had saved him. And healed him, judging by the lack of wounds on his torso and the big wad of clean white gauze wrapped around his left thigh. That had been a killing bite when it had been made. Jim had known it but had refused to accept it. He hadn’t wanted to go down to a Pack of hyenas. No way. No how.
Yet, when he’d been on his last dregs of energy, he’d seen fireworks. He wasn’t sure if that was a memory or some sort of delusion, but he could’ve sworn he’d seen actual fireworks chasing the hyenas away. Then, Helen had come. Had she set off the fireworks? It seemed crazy, but that might just be what had happened. He’d have to ask her when she woke.
Right now, she looked exhausted. Beautiful, of course, but also drained. As if she’d given all her energy to him. Hell, she probably had.
Jim tried to lever himself up into a sitting position on the side of the bed, but his body didn’t really want to cooperate. He laid back down and tried again, a few minutes later. This time, he was able to scooch up to sit against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him. Good enough.
He could feel strength returning to him slowly as he woke more fully. His shifter constitution meant he healed faster than most. His Alpha nature added to that inner strength. It was also what allowed him to hold the battle form through all the challenges he’d faced last night. Still, four against one had been rough odds with trained fighters working in concert the way the hyenas had been doing.
Jim would have to get on the phone to Arch and see if he could get any intel on a hyena mercenary group working in the States. Those bastards had been too disciplined to be just a random group of shifters. Plus, Jim knew, from his time as a Navy SEAL, that quite a few of the hyena shifters in Sub-Saharan Africa were well-trained fighters who had gone from war to war in their native land. A few of them had, no doubt, made the move across the ocean to try their luck as soldiers of fortune in the Americas.
Jim wondered if the four men had been paid for their efforts last night or if they had dedicated themselves to the Venifucus cause. He would be disappointed, though not surprised, to find that some shifters chose the path of evil, seeking worldly gain. Some—like the hyenas he had run across during his time as a SEAL—just liked the chaos of warfare. It appealed to their predatory nature. The freedom to indulge in killing was something every predatory shifter worked to control, though some embraced it. As a result, Jim thought those kinds of shifters were just one level up from feral.
No impulse control. No reason. No discipline. They allowed their inner beasts to rule over their human instincts when the real goal should be a perfect partnership between the two sides of a shifter’s nature. But that was too hard for some people, apparently. Or they had been raised in chaos and knew no other way to live.
It was a shame, really. Shifters could be so much…more…if they learned how to use the strengths of the predator and the cunning of the human. But their hearts had to be in the right place, and they had to want to use their abilities for good. Serving the Light was the best path for any being, and like any race, there were some among the many shifter species that served only themselves. Or worse, they chose to serve the darkness and tried with all their strength and cunning to overcome the Light.
Jim sat there, pondering these deep thoughts, not wanting to make too much noise, lest he wake Helen. She deserved her rest after what she’d done for him tonight. He felt a bit guilty that she was so very obviously drained after healing him. For, he was certain, there was no other way he could have healed to this extent already if she hadn’t given of her own energy to heal him magically.
Hell, he probably wouldn’t have even been able to make it to the hotel without her infusing him with magical strength. He owed her. Big time. She had—he had zero doubt—saved his life.
Jim spied his phone on the bedside table. He reached over to snag it, and after only a vague consideration for time zone conversions, he fired off a few pertinent text messages. He wanted others to know what was going on with him and Helen, just in case the hyenas came back before he was fit to deal with them.
Answering texts came back almost immediately. First, Arch wanted to know where, exactly, he was and if Arch should scare up a cavalry unit. Jim thanked his uncle for the offer of support but replied that what he most needed right now, was help with intel. Jim told his uncle all he could remember about the hyenas, knowing Arch would put out feelers in the morning to his extensive network of contacts.
Jim also thought Arch would probably put out warnings along those same lines for anyone who might cross paths with the team of hyenas. If they were working for the Venifucus, they weren’t to be trusted or afforded any sort of concessions when crossing anyone else’s territories.
When the phone in his hand rang, Jim answered it, though he hadn’t wanted to make too much noise. Still, he wanted to talk to Ezra Tate, his point of contact at SeaLife Enterprises, who had hired him for this gig. Jim spoke in low tones, but before the call had progressed too far, he saw Helen stir in her chair. By the time he ended the call, she was awake and looking at him, even as she yawned.
“You’re looking better,” she said as he lowered the phone and met her gaze.
“You saved my life.” He hadn’t quite intended to say that so baldly, but it was true, nonetheless.
Helen blushed a little, the spots of color on her cheeks stark against her pale face. She looked a bit like a ghost of herself, which meant she’d given a lot of her own energy toward keeping him alive. He’d have to protect her while she recouped her energies. He owed her that much.
“I’m just glad those things were scared off by the fireworks,” she said, modestly.
“So, it was you with the fireworks,” he marveled. “I almost thought I’d imagined that part.”
“Nope,” she assured him with a small grin. “I lit up the skies, and I think I singed a few of their hides, too.”
“Good for you,” he praised her, glad to see her smile, even if it was faint.
She looked so pale, so in need of energy. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect her from all harm, but he knew he was in no position to do that just now. They both had some healing to do before
they would be at full strength once again.
“What made you think of fireworks? For that matter, what made you come here?” he asked, curious. Grateful, of course, but really, really curious.
“My mother sent me. She had a vivid dream vision yesterday night, and she sent me off in the morning with the instructions to stop at the fireworks shop just over the border and stock up before I got here.” She let her head roll back to rest on the back of the wide chair. “I had no idea what she had in mind at the time, but when it all started to happen, I suddenly knew what the fireworks were for. I’m just glad it worked to scare off those… Were those hyenas?”
“Hyena shifters,” he confirmed. “I’ve come across them before, but never in the States.” He frowned at his phone. “I was texting Uncle Arch about them. They’re common in parts of Africa and a few other spots in the world, but it’s unusual for a trained team like that to work on this side of the Atlantic. Arch is checking to see if there’s any scuttlebutt about a mercenary group hiring out to someone in the States.”
“Do you think we’re safe here?” she asked, her eyes looking a bit haunted.
“We don’t have a lot of choice right now, considering the state of us both, but I think we’re okay for a while. That was Ezra on the phone, and he’s turned up some interesting data about the man I’m tracking. Ezra’s going to arrange a private plane so I can fly out of here to a place in Texas where he thinks I might be able to pick up the trail,” he told her.
“I’m going with you.” There was no doubt, no hesitation in her voice.
Jim wasn’t sure what to make of her insistence. He’d assumed she’d go back home after her very timely intervention, but apparently, she had other ideas.
“I’m not sure—” he began, but she cut him off.
“I am. Coming with you. Mom insisted, and if you knew my mother, you’d understand that she only insists when there is absolute necessity.” She looked a bit embarrassed, but he wasn’t going to argue.
Even though it might be dangerous, he couldn’t bring himself to send her away. The truth was, he wanted to be with her, no matter what. He wanted her by his side, where he could keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t drain herself, as she had, ever again. He could almost be mad at her for allowing herself to get into such a delicate state, but she’d done so saving his life, so he found he couldn’t complain.
“It’s not really safe, but…” Yeah, he was a total scoundrel for feeling satisfaction that she wanted to go with him into danger. What was he thinking? He should be doing everything in his power to protect her, not bring her along on an interstate manhunt.
“Good. Call Ezra back and tell him you’ll need two seats on that plane,” she instructed, then stood and walked, somewhat unsteadily, into the bathroom.
Jim could only stare after her, marveling at the way she’d managed to issue orders. He hadn’t thought she’d had it in her, but she’d surprised him, yet again. Happily. He liked a woman with gumption.
Helen felt awful. She’d just barely made it into the bathroom on her own two feet, but she’d made it. She sagged against the counter, holding on for dear life. Saving Jim had taken all her skill and all her energy. But it had been worth it. The world would have been a sadder place without him in it, and she wasn’t altogether certain she wanted to live in such a place.
She used the bathroom and then splashed cold water on her face from the sink. It felt good. She would’ve liked to take a shower, but she didn’t think she had the strength to stand up that long. As it was, she’d been able to clean the blood off her hands before falling in a heap into that big chair at the side of Jim’s bed, but little else. A change of clothes would be nice, but she’d left them outside.
Jim was out there, too. She’d have to face him again, and do her best to hide just how drained she was. She could feel the concern radiating off him in waves, but there was nothing really wrong with her that time wouldn’t heal. She just needed to let her reserves rebuild naturally. A good night’s sleep ought to do it. Most of it, anyway.
She was just afraid the hyenas would come back. It had to be pretty obvious which way she and Jim had gone when she’d hauled him from the beach. She’d erased the blood trail, but she wasn’t sure her work was shifter-proof. They could probably smell things on a much deeper level than she could erase magically.
“Helen?” Jim’s voice came to her from the other side of the door. “You all right in there?”
“Fine. I’ll be right out.” Surely, he wasn’t standing up already? Though, his voice had sounded as if he were standing just on the other side of the door.
She’d been told that shifters healed faster than regular folk, but other than the little bear cub they’d rescued from the paper mill, she’d never had occasion to really use her healing gift on a shifter. She’d definitely felt Jim’s innate magic sparking off her own when she’d started working on his wounds. It had resisted her, at first, but there came a point where her energy meshed with his and began to work in tandem.
The effect was kind of amazing and allowed her to do far more healing on him than she would have been able to do on a non-shifter. Something about his metabolism or his wolf or his magical core allowed her to direct almost double the energy at his wounds than she otherwise would have had. It hadn’t all come from her. No, it was clear to her, at least, that a good portion of that magic had come from him. His wolf, his psyche, his soul…she wasn’t sure. But it had definitely come from him. Somehow.
She gathered what was left of her strength and stood up straight as she grasped the door handle and turned. She’d have to face him, and she’d have to convince him that she was all right, except for a little drain. It wouldn’t do to let him know just how much of herself she’d given in order to keep him among the living.
It had been well worth it, of course. She wouldn’t have been able to face it if she hadn’t been able to save him.
She opened the door, and there he was. Standing. Right in front of her.
Chapter Five
He shouldn’t have been able to stand yet, but apparently, his will was greater than any wound he might have received. His muscles rippled as he lifted one hand to touch her cheek.
“You look tired,” he said, his voice holding a note of gentle care that she hadn’t really heard from him before.
“I am tired,” she admitted, “but I’m okay.”
“You need some sleep,” he said, turning to escort her toward the bed, his muscular forearm under her hand. How had he managed to maneuver her into that position?
He was limping, and she immediately grew concerned. “You shouldn’t be walking on that leg,” she scolded gently.
“It’s feeling much better already,” he told her, pausing as they reached the side of the wide double bed. He turned to face her and looked down into her eyes. Her breath caught at the tender look on his face. “Have I thanked you for saving my life yet?”
Mutely, she shook her head. She wasn’t sure what was happening here, but it felt…big. Important. Life-altering.
His head lowered, and he placed a gentle, chaste kiss on her lips. Then, he drew back, meeting her gaze. Her lips tingled where he’d touched them with his. Never had she had such a visceral reaction to a man’s kiss.
“Thank you, Helen. You saved me, and you gave of yourself to do so. I will never forget your courage or strength.” That sounded sort of…final. Like he was planning on leaving again. No way was she going to let that happen. He might be on a mission, but so was she.
Without thinking about the consequences of her action, or why she thought it was a good idea, she reached up and dragged his head down for another kiss. A very different kiss that was far from chaste.
She sucked on his lips, demanding he engage fully with the tempest inside her that yearned to get out. He hesitated maybe half a heartbeat before succumbing and joining his lips to hers in a kiss that was anything but tepid. No, this was full-on heat. Desire. A sparking fury of passion.
His tongue swept into her mouth, spiking her excitement higher. Lost in his kiss, she felt her energy replenishing at an astonishing rate. Was this all it took to rev her engines? A kiss from a shirtless, hot, devastatingly attractive male?
Somehow, she didn’t think just any male would do. There was something incredibly special about Jim. Something she couldn’t quite define but knew was extraordinary. She clung to him, running her hands over his skin in the way she’d longed to do before but hadn’t allowed herself.
She’d touched him, but only to heal. She’d kept her attentions as professional as she could, regardless of her attraction to him. He’d been unconscious and near death. That had been no time to run her fingers over his chest the way she was doing now. Her restraint had been rewarded with the most amazing kiss she’d ever experienced.
All too soon, he drew back. She was glad to note that he was breathing as hard as she was. He had not been unaffected by their kiss.
“I wish it were otherwise, but we don’t have time for this right now,” he told her, his voice low and gruff.
“What do you mean?” Instantly, she was on alert. Even as her lips tingled in the aftermath.
“I was going to let you grab a few minutes of sleep while I arranged things, but Ezra called back while you were in the bathroom. He’s got a plane for me.” He looked reluctant to say the rest, but he went on anyway. “And Uncle Arch texted me back about the hyenas. His intel is mostly rumors and hearsay, but it’s nothing good. His advice was to get out of town as soon as possible.”
Helen saw the wisdom in that. She’d been worried about the hyenas finding them again, too. She nodded.
“I called down to the desk and checked out of my room,” he went on. “I didn’t leave anything in it, so I don’t need to go back there.”