Shadowed Flame

by RJ Blain

  I should have been bothered by my nudity and the bruises mottling my skin, but I was too tired and queasy to fight Ryan as he helped me out of the tub and went to work with a plush towel. It took all my concentration to stay on my feet and ignore my queasiness.

  When the nausea finally won, Ryan held my hair out of the way and didn’t say a word.

  When my stomach wasn’t rebelling, I alternated between burning and freezing. In the brief periods when I felt almost human, I slept until the fever took hold again. I had faint memories of talking to Dad several times, although the specifics of the conversations slipped away from me. In my more coherent moments, I was aware of intense hunger driving me, forcing me to eat despite my awareness of the misery I’d suffer as a consequence of obeying the gnawing, growling demands of my stomach.

  Through it all, Ryan remained close, sometimes pacing the bedroom, sometimes hovering in the doorway, and sometimes lying stretched out on the bed beside me, watching me with quiet intensity.

  It didn’t take me long to realize when his eyes brightened, Ryan’s wolf watched me.

  Part of me was no longer human, too, and she liked his attention and wanted more of it. Despite my incessant nausea and fever, my wolf wanted me to shunt aside my discomfort and pursue the patient male.

  The longer he waited, the more my wolf wanted him.

  When I finally woke feeling more like a human than a zombie, Ryan was sleeping on top of the covers beside me, dressed in a rumpled t-shirt and a worn pair of jeans. I had no recollection of dressing, but I wore a long dress shirt too big for me. He snored, a soft, rumbly sound my wolf enjoyed listening to. Hunger cramped my stomach, and I eased my way out from under the duvet, wincing in anticipation of pain.

  I stood, my body creaking protests at having been immobile for so long, but the discomfort I expected didn’t manifest. I stretched both of my hands, and while my fingers were stiff, there was no other evidence of my time with Harthel.

  Once I satisfied the demands of my appetite, I would deal with figuring out what happened next.

  My wolf didn’t want me to leave Ryan, but I ignored her whining. While I was attracted to the man, and had been even before I had started sharing my head with her, I wasn’t about to go jumping my two-time rescuer.

  But damn, I wanted to, and my wolf knew it.

  I made my way to the kitchen, careful to keep quiet so I wouldn’t disturb Ryan. Dim overhead lights guided my path, and I dodged around the armchair partially blocking the hallway leading into the living room. The curtains covering the cabin’s large front window were closed, and I detoured to peek outside. Everything was dark, but I could hear the hiss of snow and wind against the glass.

  From what I could tell, the accumulation came up to my knees, but I couldn’t tell if the snow had blown against the window or if it had continued to fall while I had been ill. My wolf wanted out, and her restlessness drove me to pressing my hands to the glass.

  Winter cold numbed my skin, and my wolf whined her impatience and desire for fresh air. I glanced in the direction of the front door, shifting my weight from foot to foot.

  It had been too long since I had been able to take a deep breath of fresh air without my chest and lungs hurting, and my desire to experience the winter bite of a blizzard lured me across the living room. There was no sign of an alarm system, just a chain, a deadbolt, and a regular lock. I found it amusing Ryan used the chain in addition to the two locks.

  If someone made it past the deadbolt, the thin chain wasn’t going to help much.

  However, the chain would prevent the door from flying in my face if the wind was too strong, so I left it in place. All I wanted was a deep breath, not to let in too much cold air.

  I cracked open the door, shivering at the sting of wind-driven snow, and breathed in, savoring the crisp, clean scent that flooded my lungs. I was aware of my wolf’s attention on every little subtlety in the air. The snow had a scent, which she ignored. The hint of wood warned me a tree had fallen somewhere nearby. Even without her help, I was able to pinpoint the harsh bite of gasoline and smoke.

  Underneath it all was a spice undertone partnered with the musk of wolves, and my desire to escape into the snow chilled to wariness. I closed the door and locked it.

  Hunger forgotten, I returned to the bedroom, hovering in the doorway while debating if I should wake Ryan and tell him about what I had scented outside. My wolf whined in my head, and I was aware of her desire to find somewhere dark and confined to hide.

  “Ryan?”

  The soft snoring I found comforting ended in a snort, and the man bolted off the bed so fast I sucked in a breath, tensing. He was at my side before I had a chance to retreat, and his nose flared. “What’s wrong?”

  “There are wolves outside.”

  Ryan’s eyes narrowed and brightened, and he breathed in deep. “Your wolf wanted fresh air.”

  Over the years, I had learned to listen to tone as much as watch body language when trying to keep one step ahead of businessmen who believed me inferior because of my age and gender. I relaxed at the lack of accusation in Ryan’s tone, although the stiffness in his stance concerned me. “I did, too.”

  His smile softened his expression. “Once you’re fully over the ritual sickness, we’ll hunt.”

  My wolf’s excitement roused at Ryan’s words, and my reservations clashed with her desire for fresh meat and blood. In order to distract myself, I considered my health—or lack of it. “Won’t I slow you down?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Would I ever get used to acknowledging my shortcomings? I clenched my teeth, straightened my back, and forced myself to look him in the eyes. “My asthma.”

  Ryan sighed and shook his head. “You won’t slow us down. I’ll explain later. First, I want a look at these wolves.”

  Something about his tone warned me of trouble. “Is there a problem?”

  “Depends on who has come calling.” With his cheek twitching, Ryan stalked in the direction of the front door, and I followed in his wake. He hesitated near the kitchen. “If they’re Inquisition Fenerec, it’ll probably be okay, as long as I can convince them you’re not a threat. Follow my lead.”

  “You mentioned something about the fact you weren’t supposed to…” I shrugged, uncertain of what he had done wrong by saving my life.

  “Secrecy is important to the Inquisition. No one is supposed to know we exist, and I took a lot of risks at the airport.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Ryan scratched his scalp and shrugged. “When you had trouble breathing, I began the ritual on you, and I took a few precautions to keep you from shifting for the first time. It was risky. It might not have worked. I hadn’t done the ritual before; I’d been taught how, but I wasn’t supposed to use it without being sanctioned. If I had fucked it up, we’d both be dead right now along with anyone who had witnessed it.”

  My eyes widened. “Why?”

  “Fenerec are dangerous. Never doubt it for a second. We’re a threat to Normals, and the Inquisition exists to prevent us from preying on humans incapable of defending themselves. I’ll have to explain the rest later. I want you to stay behind me and keep calm. Don’t let your wolf take control. If she perceives a threat, she’ll want to.”

  While I didn’t have any reason to believe he was lying to me, I didn’t feel very threatening, and if I was at risk of my wolf taking over, I couldn’t tell. She seemed content enough to lurk in my head.

  I had no idea how Ryan expected me to keep control—or how I’d even know if I was losing control in the first place. All I could do was try. I fisted my hands, lifted my chin, and said, “Okay.”

  Ryan’s preparations worried me and my wolf, and by the time he finished triple checking his gun, I wanted nothing more than to find a safe place to take cover. He held the weapon in a firm grip, headed to the door, and unlocked it. Unlike me, he let the wind blow it all the way open.

  I shivered from the cold on my bare legs,
pressing my hands to my legs to keep Ryan’s dress shirt from billowing. Snow swirled inside, and I backed away, torn between keeping my eye on Ryan and trying to spot the wolves in the snow.

  Their scent strengthened. Through the pale haze outside, shapes moved, but instead of the wolves I expected, four figures approached.

  “Come in.” Ryan kept his gun low and pointed at the ground, his finger clear of the trigger. “That all of you?”

  “That’s all of us,” a man replied, and my eyes widened with recognition.

  Dalton Sinclair had been the last person to see me before Harthel had kidnapped me, forcing Ryan to finish turning me into a werewolf—a Fenerec. My nose told me wolf, and my wolf confirmed my belief.

  “Dalton? Dalton Sinclair?” I blurted.

  How could Dalton be a werewolf, too?

  Ryan jerked in my direction, his eyes widening. “You know him?”

  “We’ve met. Small world, Miss Evans.” Dalton stomped inside.

  “You were there, on the street where the car went off the road. Were you hit? Were—”

  “I’m tough to kill, Miss Evans. If someone wants me dead, they’ll have to do a lot better than that.” After the other three men entered the cabin, Dalton closed the door and locked it.

  My face burned when I realized our late-night visitors were naked. I slapped my hands over my eyes, which resulted in a few throaty chuckles. “Please put some clothes on.”

  The only man I wanted to see naked was Ryan, and before I even considered sleeping with him, I needed to get my head screwed on straight—and learn a lot more about life as a Fenerec.

  My wolf’s attention focused on Ryan, and I was aware of her desire for me to latch my teeth onto his throat until he submitted to us. It took every bit of willpower in my possession to lower my hands and head for the kitchen. I paused at the oddly bright light of the coffee maker, shook my head, and started to brew a pot to keep my attention focused somewhere safe.

  Ryan followed me, setting the gun on the counter. “I’m going to assume since you neglected to bring clothing with you that you’re not here to get rid of us. There should be something that fits you in the bedroom closet down the hall.”

  I listened to the soft pad of feet on the floor, heading in the direction of the bedroom I had been sharing with Ryan.

  My nose warned me Dalton was still somewhere nearby.

  “We were in a hurry. And no, we’re not here to get rid of either one of you. I’ve been assigned to handle your punishment, but I’m not in the mood today. Bad puppy. Don’t do it again.”

  “Are you being serious? That’s it?” At the disbelief in Ryan’s voice, I risked a glance at him. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open.

  “Very. I do expect for you to give me a complete explanation of everything that has happened, however.”

  “Please put some clothes on,” I repeated, careful to keep my gaze fixed to the countertops or coffee machine.

  “It is a bit chilly in here.” Dalton chuckled and headed down the hallway.

  I sighed my relief, slumping over the counter. “That was awkward. How do you know him?”

  With a quiet laugh, Ryan gave my elbow a nudge with his. “You’re feeling better. No more nausea?”

  “I woke up hungry. Not so hungry now.” I wrinkled my nose and glared at the coffee machine. “So, how do you know Dalton?”

  “He’s an Inquisitor. Most Fenerec packs stick to a set region, but Dalton and his team tend to travel all over the world. They’re called in whenever there is a problem outside of a pack. I wasn’t very subtle when I went hunting after you. They tracked my phone here.” Echoing my sigh, Ryan settled in beside me, resting his elbows on the counter. “I was worried they’d be hostile.”

  “I remember.”

  “There’s something going on, though.”

  At the worry in Ryan’s voice, I straightened and shifted my weight from foot to foot. “What makes you think that?”

  Ryan glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t let his appearance fool you, Matia. Dalton Sinclair is someone you do not want to cross, and when he is playing nice with those who have broken the rules, there’s a reason for it. He wants something. What, however, I don’t know, and that worries me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  My wolf didn’t like so many males nearby.

  It wasn’t fear driving her, but some other instinct I didn’t understand made her wary of them. Half the time, she wanted me to keep between the four men in the sitting room and Ryan, who stayed with me in the kitchen. The rest of the time, she urged me to bare my teeth and drive them out into the snow.

  “Relax,” Ryan whispered in my ear.

  It took a great deal of effort to force myself to lean against the counter and pretend every muscle wasn’t tensed and ready for something—anything—to happen.

  Dalton cleared his throat and propped his feet up on the coffee table from his spot on the middle of the couch. “Let’s get down to business. Cole, I know you’re concerned, especially in light of your recent behavior. Had the circumstances been any different, we’d be having an entirely different conversation right now.”

  Ryan stiffened beside me, and my wolf identified the sharpness in his scent as anxiety. “What do you mean, sir?”

  “Dalton. Sinclair, if you absolutely feel you must stand on formality.”

  “I’m a rogue, sir. I’ve violated several taboos. Why are we having this talk when you should be dealing with me?”

  “Let’s start at the beginning, since Miss Evans has no idea what is going on. It’s best if she understands everything, as I require her to be a part of this conversation without feeling like an outsider or interloper.” Dalton crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze focused on me.

  In the dim illumination, the man’s eyes had a disconcerting gleam to them, as though they glowed of their own volition, in a too bright gray that unsettled and intrigued me. My wolf whined in my head, and her presence faded, retreating to some dark recess, leaving me to deal with our four late-night visitors.

  “I haven’t had a chance to teach her much,” Ryan confessed.

  “Of course not. I’m not criticizing. You did as you needed to do, and you did so with admirable caution and care. That, in part, is why the Inquisition has chosen to turn a blind eye. I need you to tell me everything that happened from the beginning, however.”

  Ryan flinched. “It’s a long story.”

  “I have time.”

  Dalton’s companions made themselves comfortable; two flanked him on the couch while the third opted to sit on the floor with his back resting against the coffee table. Breathing in deep, I tried to make sense of the smells, but with my wolf in hiding, I was only able to pinpoint the five signatures of male wolf, with Ryan and Dalton having the strongest scents.

  With a heavy sigh, Ryan retrieved two stools from the other end of the kitchen and offered one to me before sliding onto his. “Are you aware of my last assignment, sir?”

  “No. My instructions were to rendezvous with you and handle the situation however I saw fit. I have orders to give you a new assignment, should I be satisfied with your stability.”

  Ryan snorted, and when his posture relaxed, I hopped up on my stool at the kitchen counter to listen to the conversation. While I had made coffee, I was the only one who had a cup, and I grabbed my mug, taking a cautious sip while enjoying its warmth in my hands.

  “Is your last assignment relevant to the situation?”

  “Yes.”

  When Ryan refused to elaborate, I fought my urge to grin. The tactic was one my father and I used in business arrangements often; by forcing Dalton to ask questions, Ryan was holding his ground. Sometimes, being forthcoming had benefits; offering information could be used to garner good will. It could also be taken as a sign of weakness.

  If Dalton wanted anything out of Ryan, I had a feeling the man would have to work for it.

  Dalton sighed, and I had the feeling he understood the situatio
n as well as I did. “I’d rather not be here all night playing games, Cole.”

  “Ryan.”

  “Not exactly the sort of progress I was hoping for, but I’ll accept it.”

  “I was assigned to track down a rogue pack. The trail took me to La Guardia. By the time I figured out what they intended to do, it was too late; I got caught in the blast after security. I had been sent in with three other operatives; one was killed, the other two were in the airport before security.” Ryan sighed and shook his head. “We got sideswiped, sir, and once we figured out what was going on, it was too late. As it was, I was down and out for several hours before I managed to get back on my feet.”

  “You were also at La Guardia, Miss Evans.”

  I nodded, but if Ryan meant to railroad Dalton into directing the conversation, I would play the same game. Ignorance caused many problems in the business world, and I had no doubt the same applied to Fenerec.

  Until I knew more about what was going on, I didn’t want to say too much.

  Ryan shifted on his stool, and I was aware of his attention on me. “I started the ritual in La Guardia and used wolfsbane to prevent her first shift. She was dying. She would have died if I had done nothing.”

  “That was risky, Ryan.”

  “I refused to let her die without doing something.”

  “You forced the ritual on her.” Dalton sat up, cocked his head to the side, and watched Ryan, his expression neutral.

  “By the time I began the ritual, she was no longer capable of agreeing. I made the decision for her. I accept responsibility.”

  Dalton waved his hand in dismissal. “What is done is done. The fact she is seated beside you is evidence enough she wanted to live. How did you give her the wolfsbane if you performed the ritual when she was incapacitated?”