by L. L. Raand
“Niki!” Sylvan shouted. “Let her go!”
Instantly, Drake was freed. She fought the urge to slump down as she struggled to fill her lungs with air. Her throat was raw and her wrist throbbed, but she refused to give in to the shadows that crept over her mind. Stiffening her spine, she stared at the female who stood between her and Sylvan with an expression in her eyes like nothing Drake had ever seen before. She had no doubt this Were wanted to rip her limb from limb, and probably would have had she continued her fruitless struggle.
Drake was aware of a crowd gathering outside the cubicle, but she didn’t care about anything other than Misha. To her astonishment, Sylvan reached down and lifted the unconscious teenager into her arms as if she weighed no more than a child. For the first time Drake noted the changes in Sylvan’s face—an angular elongation and sharpening of the bones that seemed to be disappearing even as she watched. The Alpha’s limb had reverted to a hand as well.
“She’s too unstable to move,” Drake warned.
Niki growled softly. Drake ignored her, her focus on Sylvan.
“At least let me check her before you leave. If her temperature is still elevated, she could seize. Her lungs are already compromised.”
The Were Alpha seemed not to have heard.
“Max,” Sylvan said. “Take Jazz and Alex out to the Rover.” She gave the boys a brief glance, her expression softening for an instant.
“Go. I have Misha.”
The teenagers obeyed instantly. As they trooped out behind the enormous, craggy-faced Max, Drake tried to approach Sylvan, only to find Niki firmly in her path. She hadn’t even seen the Were guard move.
“Excuse me,” Drake said, meeting Niki’s gaze but attempting not to transmit any kind of challenge. She wasn’t interested in fighting, but she intended to speak with Sylvan.
Niki’s expression remained completely impassive, but her green eyes flared in warning.
“It’s all right, Niki,” Sylvan said with surprising gentleness.
Niki hesitated and Drake could feel her reluctance, sensed her agonized compulsion to follow two dictates. She pictured how it must have looked to Niki coming upon the mad scene in the cubicle—Misha thrashing in agony, the Were teenagers almost out of control, the enraged Were Alpha. Drake had been standing so close to Sylvan and with her hands on one of their young. No wonder she’d ended up against the wall. Niki had been trying to protect Sylvan, and Drake respected that.
“I’m no threat to your Alpha,” Drake said, her anger dissipating.
“I give you my word.”
Niki’s brows rose in surprise. Her harsh glare softened, but she said quietly, “If you make one wrong move, I’ll rip your throat out.”
“So noted.”
Apparently satisfied, Niki stepped aside.
Sylvan frowned at Drake. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” Drake replied.
“What you did—getting that close to Misha, to me—was very foolish.” Sylvan stroked Misha’s hair and the girl whimpered, burrowing her face against Sylvan’s neck. “We’re very protective of all our young, but especially the females. When one is threatened, we become—aggressive.”
“What I did was as natural for me as what you did was for you.”
Sylvan shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“At least tell me what happened here,” Drake insisted. She understood enough of Were culture to know they were driven more strongly than humans by physical instincts, but her instincts to care for the injured were just as strong. “I’ve seen something like this before.”
“That would be very unlikely,” Sylvan said.
“Just explain—” Drake hesitated as Sophia Revnik, the Were medic, slipped through the crowd and into the cubicle.
“Alpha,” Sophia said, dipping her head briefly before glancing at Niki. Her gaze seemed to catch as it passed over Niki’s face.
“Imperator.”
“Sophia,” Niki said, her tone low and rough.
“I’m sorry, Alpha,” Sophia said to Sylvan. “I was across town when I got the call. I came immediately. How is she?”
“Better.” Sylvan cradled Misha’s head against her shoulder, her blood-streaked hand on the back of Misha’s neck. This might not have been an isolated incident. I need you to check the records for other rogue attacks.
Sophia nodded.
Drake sensed the silent communication. The Weres had never admitted to having any kind of telepathic ability, but it was clear Sylvan was addressing Sophia in some way. While she appreciated the need to prevent knowledge of Were biology from being turned into a weapon against them, she resented being excluded. Irrational, but there it was.
These Weres shared something unique with Sylvan Mir, and Drake envied the intimacy.
“I want to know what kind of emergency treatment I should institute next time,” Drake repeated, shrugging off the emotional reaction that made no sense to her.
“Niki, Sophia,” Sylvan said, “wait outside.”
Sophia immediately retreated to the hall, but Niki whipped her head around, muttering something too low for Drake to hear.
“I’m fine,” Sylvan said. “Go, I’ll be right there.”
With one last warning snarl in Drake’s direction, Niki disappeared.
Sylvan regarded Drake with a penetrating stare. “If this happens again—or anything like it, you should not interfere.”
“I won’t stand by and watch a patient die.”
“You don’t understand the repercussions. What kind of danger you’ll be in.”
“Then why don’t you tell me.”
“I don’t know you, Dr. McKennan. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“You’re not Pack,” Sylvan murmured, wondering why she was bothering to explain. Revealing their presence to the human population had been risk enough. She would not expose her Pack or any of the other Praeterns to potential genocide. She didn’t even know why she lingered to talk to this human doctor. Misha, although not in immediate danger, was exhausted from her instinctive struggle to shift and expel the poison. The toxin leaching into her system had blocked her shift, and she was at risk for more serious complications. Complications Sylvan had no intention of revealing to a human. Sylvan needed to get Misha home so the Pack medicus could monitor her.
Drake frowned. “What happens the next time a Were comes in like this, and you’re not here?”
“I will be.”
“You can’t be everywhere,” Drake insisted, her temper rising. She did not suffer impotence well.
“I will be where I need to be.” Sylvan started toward the hall, then stopped and turned back. “I apologize for any pain we may have caused you. The Pack is in your debt and you may call on us for repayment at any time.”
Drake straightened. “No debt is owed, Ms. Mir. I would do the same again.”
“Beware that your bravery does not lead you into harm, Doctor.”
Sylvan stepped into the hall where Niki and a redhead nearly too beautiful to be male fell in on either side of her.
Watching them glide down the hall, their long strides fluid and graceful, Drake noted that all three wore T-shirts, jeans, and no shoes.
The big male Max, who had escorted the teenagers out, had been dressed the same way. Another secret she would not have the answer to this night. Sylvan Mir and her wolves disappeared, leaving Drake feeling oddly empty.
CHAPTER THREE
You worthless mutt! Your orders are to capture females, not kill them!” Rex clubbed the young male on the side of the head, knocking him to his knees, and kicked him in the midsection. “I should gut you for letting them escape.”
“Please, Rex, I’m sorry.” The Were moaned and curled into a ball as the tall, muscular blond known only as Rex loomed over him. Rex was decked in leather from head to toe, and was as much feared in his human shape as wolf. He killed ruthlessly and efficiently in either form.
“We didn�
�t expect them to resist—they’re only pups. But they fought, and the struggle was beginning to draw attention, so we retreated. We thought—”
“I don’t pay you to think.” Rex kicked the sniveling underling again. “I pay you to do as I command.”
Rex paced the length of the abandoned warehouse situated on the banks of the Hudson, his anger a black miasma threatening to snap his control. Bare bulbs swung from exposed beams, and the smell of rotting fish and decaying wood assaulted his acute sense of smell. He was forced to make his headquarters in a decrepit, derelict building while Sylvan Mir’s expansive compound occupied thousands of acres within the even vaster territory owned by the Timberwolf Pack. He should be the leader there, not her. Pivoting sharply, he stalked back to the pathetic, cowering runt who had let a prime female escape. He’d promised delivery and now he would have to find a plausible reason for the delay.
The male scuttled back against the wall, drawing his knees up to protect his body. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. He glanced at the ragtag assortment of rogues clustered in the shadows, hoping for some support. No one came forward in his defense and his voice rose as he babbled, “We’ve been watching their perimeters, Rex. The pups are restless and often stray outside. We’ll get another one.”
“You’d better,” Rex growled through gritted teeth. He kicked the huddled youth into unconsciousness, then turned on the rest of the pathetic group shuffling uneasily nearby. “What are you still doing here? Don’t you have product to move out on the streets?”
“Yes, Rex,” they replied in unison before fleeing.
Alone in the dank darkness, Rex raged at the injustice and bad fortune that had left him with nothing but a handful of decent soldiers and a pack of worthless rogues to carry out his orders while Sylvan Mir played at being Alpha. Her Pack was promised to him. Promised.
Now that she had been appointed Special Councilor, the other Alphas were afraid to move against her. As if her negotiations with the humans really mattered. Weres should never negotiate with humans or any other species. Weres should take what they wanted—and he would. Starting with the Adirondack Timberwolf Pack.
CHAPTER FOUR
How is she?” Niki slid onto the bench next to Sylvan in the rear of the heavily reinforced Rover. They’d removed the seats and bolted benches along each sidewall to make transporting Weres in pelt form easier. Lara, the youngest of the centuri at just twenty-three, drove while Max rode shotgun. Andrew and the two boys sat on the floor, while Sylvan held Misha.
“She’s weak, but there’s no sign the toxin is spreading.” Sylvan skimmed her hand over Misha’s cheek. “No indication of cellular breakdown.”
“You’re sure it was argyria poisoning?”
“Yes.” Sylvan’s voice was still rough with fury. “I’ve got the proof in my pocket.”
Niki sucked in a breath. “What is it?”
“A knife blade, coated in silver. It must have struck bone and broken off when they stabbed her. I dug it out from under her shoulder blade. Another three inches and it would have been in her heart.”
And the beautiful young Were would have been dead before Sylvan could have reached her. Sylvan snarled her rage.
“You shouldn’t be carrying it,” Niki said, looking panicked. “Let me.”
Sylvan swiveled her head and narrowed her eyes. “And risk you getting cut?”
“Alpha—” Niki’s tone was agonized.
“Niki,” Sylvan chided, cupping Niki’s jaw in her palm. She leaned closer and kissed Niki’s forehead. “Stop worrying. I’m in no danger.”
“You’re not impervious to the poison. Damn it, Sylvan, you’re not immortal.”
Sylvan grinned. “Trying to scare me?”
Niki rolled her eyes. “As if I could.” Her expression suddenly grew serious. “What if Misha develops the fever?”
“She’ll fight it. We’ll help her.” Sylvan breathed out a sigh. “She’s young and strong. The anaphylaxis stopped as soon as I got the silver out. She should heal the injury rapidly as long as the dose of toxin isn’t too high.” She tightened her arms around the young Were who slept so innocently in her arms. “If the paralytic had spread much further, she might have been permanently damaged.”
“Her shoulder.” Niki shuddered. “If the muscles are destroyed, she won’t be able to run.”
For a wolf there was nothing worse than being chained, being unable to run, unable to hunt, unable to breathe free under the moon.
“Misha will be fine.” Sylvan rubbed her cheek against the top of Misha’s head, then wrapped an arm around Niki’s shoulders and pulled her close. Niki laid her cheek on Sylvan’s chest and threaded her arm around Sylvan’s waist. The boys crowded closer, one wrapping his arm around her calf, the other laying his head on her thigh. Andrew braced his back against her other leg.
“Rest, my wolves,” Sylvan murmured, tilting her head against the window and closing her eyes. “Everyone is safe.”
She didn’t sleep as the Rover turned off the highway onto an overgrown, unmarked trail that led deep into the forest to the Compound. Instead, she mentally replayed the scene in the ER. She dealt with humans on a daily basis and unlike many of her Pack, she didn’t think that humans were weaker or less honorable than Weres just because they lived by a far more ambiguous moral code. Still, she couldn’t afford to trust them—she couldn’t put her Pack, or any Praetern species, at risk by confiding in a potential enemy. But she had allowed Drake McKennan to witness more of their vulnerability than any human ever had, believing instinctively that Drake would hold their secrets. This human female had slipped through her defenses, and that made her very dangerous indeed.
CHAPTER FIVE
Drake found Sophia in a small conference room tucked into an alcove in the ER. The Were medic sat alone, filling out charts.
Ever since Sylvan and her Weres had left, the ER staff had been giving Sophia a wide berth, and some had been casting curious glances in Drake’s direction. She’d even heard a few disgruntled comments about those kind going somewhere else for emergency treatment. Tonight, for some reason, the thinly veiled prejudice bothered her more than usual.
She kept seeing the pain and terror in Misha’s eyes.
Drake poured herself a cup of coffee and when Sophia glanced up from the charts, pointed to the pot. “Want some?”
“No thanks.”
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink coffee.” Drake sat down across from the blonde at the small round table that bore the stains of many leaky paper cups and spilled take-out food containers.
“I didn’t think it was possible to be in medicine and survive without coffee.”
“Most human drugs, even caffeine and alcohol, don’t really have much effect on us,” Sophia said softly, appearing curiously shy.
“Something about our metabolism just counteracts them.”
“I guess that can be good or bad, huh?”
Sophia smiled, and Drake was struck by the subtle similarity in her appearance to Sylvan and Niki. Like the other two Were females, the muscles in her bare arms below the short sleeves of her scrub shirt were subtly enhanced, the sweeping arch of her cheekbones bolder than that of most women, her eyes slightly up-tilted. And the edges of her deep blue irises flickered with gold. That was as far as the likeness went, however. Both Sylvan and Niki exuded an air of confidence that might have been construed as arrogant if it hadn’t seemed to be such an innate part of their personalities. Sylvan was several octaves higher on the aggression scale than even Niki. Sophia, while outgoing and friendly, lacked that aggression—for want of a better description. One feature they all shared, however: they were each extraordinarily beautiful.
“Is your baseline temperature higher too?” Drake grimaced at the burnt aftertaste of her coffee and set the mug aside.
“Almost two full degrees. How did you know?”
“Misha’s temperature was shooting through the roof. A lot more than that two-degree d
ifference could account for.”
Sophia looked away uncomfortably.
“She didn’t seem to be febrile when the boys brought her in. Is it okay to call them boys?”
“Boys works fine. We also call them pups,” Sophia said softly, “or young.”
“Pups seems about right.” Drake laughed and Sophia grinned.
“She was on the verge of Were fever, wasn’t she?” Drake asked.
“I didn’t examine her. I couldn’t say.”
Drake knew she was being evasive. “If human medics knew more about Were physiology, we could take care of these emergencies when one of your medics wasn’t around.”
“We’re not all that different. Organs in the same place, more or less. Same skeletal structure when we’re in skin form—” Sophia sighed.
“Obviously there are differences, but they’re not readily apparent.”
“And you can’t tell me?”
“That’s for the Alpha to decide.”
“Sylvan.”
Sophia flushed. “The Alpha, yes.”
“She knew you on sight. Are you friends?”
“With the Alpha?” Sophia stared at Drake as if she had just said something terribly amusing. “No. She’s the Alpha. She knows all our names.”
Drake wanted to keep Sophia talking. She wanted to know more about Sylvan Mir. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Sylvan had handled the teenagers. Her combination of discipline and tenderness had struck a chord in Drake, whose own adolescence had mostly been one of indifference bordering on neglect. The way Sylvan had attacked the poison in Misha’s body, as if it were a lethal enemy to be destroyed with claws and teeth, had taken Drake’s breath away. She’d been brutal, fierce, stunning in her wrath. The Were Alpha was an intriguing contradiction, and Drake was fascinated.