“Have you worked up antidotes from the notes she gave you when Alex was injured?”
“Not really,” Doctor Waverly said, his demeanor tired. “I’ve been trying. It’s only been a couple of weeks, Ulfric. Science can’t move that fast. Right now, the best idea I have is flushing it out. It’s working on the rats. It buys them time, and with care, they heal from it. But that only works if given within a short interval from when the poison is introduced.”
“He’s doing what he can,” Sherona said, her voice more defensive than the doctor’s.
Nolan wondered, not for the first time, what her relationship was with the doctor. “I believe him, Sherona,” he said gently. “I’m just asking his progress, not condemning it.”
Sherona had the grace to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Ulfric. I’m not accustomed to dealing with rational weres.”
“I know. Roxy for a neighbor had to be tough.”
Sherona nodded. “Worse in some ways because our shadow doesn’t work the same as your packs. We’re much more independent. Makes it harder to keep war from breaking out when you have wolves like Boris hunting in your territory, despite the agreements to stay off our land.”
Nolan raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m surprised he’s still alive.”
“He won’t forget his lesson.”
“I—” He stopped as images slammed into his head then dropped to his knees while clutching his temples. Alex knelt down beside him, but he couldn’t hear what she said. All he could do was see the images flooding his head as they pounded their way through. His head throbbed with the intrusion in techno-color—like watching a movie with faded out corners.
But the pain. It screamed through him like a locomotive out of control. Screeching and wailing in protest of the visions he saw, of the fighting, of the intruder in his mind.
“What is it?” he finally heard Alex ask.
“Lance.”
***
Lisa let Lance drive again as he knew where they were headed. Both had mostly sat silent, deep in their own thoughts. The last few years were an emotional blur, and the impact of Lance’s involvement in saving her still pushed through her heart and rearranged her mind—not to mention that he claimed she was his mate.
A fire started low in her belly. Well, her body believed him. And her mind? It would take more than one night for her mind fully to catch up. Still, he’d risked his life to save hers, and that wasn’t something to throw away or take lightly. And in the warehouse, hadn’t she wanted him to touch her? Hadn’t she felt jealous when Sherona intimately talked in his ear?
Part of her werewolf heritage was smell. Perhaps, in her unconscious state, she’d taken in his scent and knew he meant safety? She took a deep breath in, closing her eyes even though it was dark. The feeling of safety and being cherished washed through her. That theory held promise. But she still had a lot of ice shards in her heart. Would she be a woman Lance deserved or would she be forever doubting him and his motives as a result of Joseph’s perfidy?
“Penny for your thoughts,” he said quietly.
She studied him for a moment, then decided to let him know her mind. “I’m worried I’ll not be able to heal from Joseph’s actions enough to be a good mate.”
He never took his eyes off the road, and sat silent for so long, she wondered if he would answer. When he did, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she held. For a short moment there, she’d wondered if she’d be rejected by Lance as well. Funny, as she’d never wanted to date again anyway.
“I don’t come to you a fresh innocent, either. I have my baggage. One of the best—and most damning—features of being a werewolf versus other weres or humans, is that our mates are known to us, almost immediately. You felt it. I knew it before I spoke to you. It’s our human minds that throw up obstacles.”
She knew what he said was truth as there’d been enough couples that she’d seen come together and quickly. But...just but. “You’ve been so good to me. I don’t want to shortchange you.”
“You won’t,” he said and gave a sad laugh. “I’m worried I won’t be able to be a proper mate to you when the time comes.”
The words slammed into her. “Why not?” He couldn’t leave her already! She wanted time to explore the feelings he brought out in her. Course, hadn’t she just said she couldn’t?
“Roxy’s tortures were wide and varied. And...” He paused and swallowed.
She wished she could hold him now. He looked so lost and forlorn. “And?” she gently prodded.
“And what if I can’t make love to you?” His voice could barely be heard in her SUV.
“We’ll both take this one day at a time,” she finally decided as she studied his features. She’d given Joseph more for less. How could she deny Lance? She couldn’t. Even now she felt the pull of his masculinity. And hadn’t they kissed in the garden like all new lovers? Maybe they were both overthinking their problems. As she recalled their kiss, her belly tightened, and she imagined doing more with him.
How she wanted that—to kiss someone without the deadness inside she’d had since Joseph’s betrayal, to be loved again. When Lance kissed her, she’d been unable to think of anyone but him. Her body had caught on fire. When he’d swung her in happiness back at the Waverly Mansion, a small chip of ice had broken off.
Lance pulled into a driveway at a primitive-looking house and stopped the car. He leaned over to her, took her chin in his hand, and studied her face. “I will earn your trust. I promise that whatever my failings are, I’ll never do what Joseph did. I’ll never abandon you or leave you to face difficult situations alone. Your scent, your existence, kept me alive when I might have given up. It gave me hope for the future and allowed me to continue to fight Roxy in the best way I could. You’re special. Always will be to me. The gift of hope is a treasured thing when life otherwise seems an empty void.”
Tears streamed down her face as he fervently spoke the most beautiful words she’d ever heard. “Lance,” was all she could say through the tears. Her heart swelled with the beginnings of love. His words instilled his own hope within her soul more than their brief moment of intimacy.
Gently, he bestowed a kiss on her. Their lips fused, and something in her mind clicked over. Nothing with Joseph had ever been this tender, this sweet. Just as important, she believed in Lance. She didn’t know how, but she did. Her life, her soul, her heart, so empty and cold, began to thaw as his words and his touch reverberated through her.
His lips left hers, and he met her gaze when she opened her eyes. “When we’ve finished here, we’ll go away somewhere. Maybe to a cabin. I don’t know, but somewhere where we can be alone and have time to get to know each other. No pressure on either of us. Is that acceptable?”
Acceptable? That sounded like the greatest thing since she’d become a werewolf. “Yes,” she said before her insecurity could talk her out of it.
He kissed her once more on the forehead then they got out. She came around the front of the car and took his hand. There were two other cars there, one of which she recognized as Moriah’s, an Elite Guard. The other, she didn’t.
“Sure has a lot of company for someone in exile,” she said nervously.
“Agreed. You know either of the cars?”
“The red Honda is Moriah’s,” she said.
“Moriah?”
“Elite Guard. Woman Alex fought during our first combined meeting?”
“Right.” They walked slowly up the dirt path toward the front door. All at once, Lance stopped moving and stared off toward the horizon.
What the hell?
Chapter Eleven
Lance didn’t like the look of things when they stepped out of her vehicle. It also occurred to him that he didn’t know Lisa’s status with the tribe. Had the ulfric adopted her into the tribe, or would they be in trouble if someone caught them on the restricted lands?
No. Nolan wasn’t stupid or careless. They wouldn’t be in trouble. Still, he couldn’t help the cra
wling sensation of dread as he moved toward the front door. His legs acted as if he were dragging them through mud and reality wasn’t real anymore. Then the vision slammed him again. This time, it started in the cabin.
The men attacked a woman he didn’t recognize while Joseph stood by laughing. Everything glowed red around him and the other men.
Lance struggled to get out of the vision. He already had this vision and knew where it ended. He didn’t want to see it again. His head felt like someone had him in a vise though and made him look, made him turn toward the violence.
The woman, Moriah? He heard Lisa yell. The woman fought back hard. Lisa and Lance joined in. Joseph took advantage of the distraction and ran out the front door. The men tried to keep the rest of them in the cabin, but they eventually pushed passed them and outside.
The full moon lit the night, and Joseph’s white shirt was like a beacon. They followed after him, running to intercept.
The men followed them out and soon they were all fighting. Joseph struck out at Lance with a limb he hadn’t seen him carrying. The strange glow threw him off, and he stumbled to the side. Moriah slammed Joseph with her body, but the other men were right there and began to fight.
Kicks, grunts, and moans... Blood, spittle, and growls... On the fight went. Moriah and Lisa had Joseph under control, so Lance moved to the men.
He thought he heard another voice, but then some weird haze blocked him, and it skipped forward. Again Lance struggled against the vision, but it persisted.
The darkness permeated into the deep shadows, but the full moon lit the rest of the night. Ryan and three other men were standing nude over a man, their bodies covered in blood that looked like dark streaks tattooed into the men’s skins.
Their raucous laughter filled the cold, night air. On the horizon, a lone wolf howled, calling for reinforcements. The men’s laughter stopped in mid-cackle, and fear poured out of their pores, tangible and glowing like silver in the moonlight, ethereal.
A red mist began to form, mingling with the silver and following it back to the men. It absorbed into them like butter into hot bread, leaving a slight red-hued aura around their skin. The red mist had left tracks which could be traced back to the woodlands, but once there, the trail dissipated into nothing within the deep blackness of the forest, its origins hidden.
The four men with the red auras began to kick the body on the ground then turned on each other. Soon they were all in werewolf forms. Growls encompassed the night sounds, silencing some, overpowering others. Barks mingled with the growls.
Suddenly, the scene changed pictures the same way a kaleidoscope changes colors. A wolf lay next to the human form, licking the face and whining. The moonlight softly caressed both woman and beast. Then the woman rose up, floating off the ground, still unconscious, and her head dropped back. Her hair floated in the breeze and hung almost weightlessly.
Her body was dark, yet the lunar rays reflected white. The wolf howled, its nose pointing to the sky, almost as if he were defying the moon to take the woman from him. Gently, the woman’s nude body drifted to the earth, and the wolf quit howling and simply lay by the woman, dropped his head into his front paws, and became still.
He felt Lisa’s hands on him and tried to use that, but instead, the vision turned.
Off to the side, in the darkness, another wolf came out of the tree line, the greyish pelt unfamiliar to him. The newcomer headed straight for the woman and other wolf at a full run. Lance tried to scream a warning and no sound came.
“Lance!”
This time Lisa’s urgency and the fear in her voice penetrated the vision. His mate was distressed, and he had to respond. He blinked, trying to clear his eyesight from the weird vision world. “Lisa,” he said weakly.
“What’s the matter?” Her anxious eyes were looking over his body in a controlled frantic check for a health reason for his state.
He smiled at her concern. “It’s the visions. Nearly the same one as I’d had at the bar.” At her confused look, he explained. “When Ryan made that accusation that I was out of it, he wasn’t far from right. Usually, they’re short and easily managed. This one is persistent and—” He frowned as he tried to recall the details again. “There were some major differences this time.” Like the body changing to a man then back to a woman, but not the same woman. And why couldn’t the scenes all stay the same? How many times and ways was Ryan going to kill someone?
What did it mean? Things were different. Some were the same, but still, he’d never had a vision change like this before. The woman he’d seen the first time had been Lisa. This time it was Moriah. How could this be? And the wolves were different. Last time, he’d known the wolf had been him. This time, it had been someone he didn’t recognize.
“Visions?” Lisa asked cautiously, her voice low.
“Every werewolf has a gift, sometimes more.”
“I don’t,” she scoffed.
Again, he smiled at his mate. “You have one of the greatest gifts. You’re the healer for our pregnant weres, and you’re an Elite Guard. I heard what you needed to do to pass. You managed to beat others out despite being a new werewolf. So you have the gift of protection as well.”
Lisa blinked, her eyes unreadable to him. “I never thought of it that way. I’m...not sure what to say.”
Just then, the door opened, and they both turned to see Ryan. “Well, look what we have here.”
“What are you doing here, Ryan?” Lance challenged.
“We came to make sure Joseph was properly exiled, of course,” he replied smoothly.
Lance’s heartbeat increased, and his wolf instincts were going off like a fire alarm with burnt toast. Because Ryan looked a lot—no exactly like—one of the men in his vision, he’d made the assumption, but perhaps the vision hadn’t been literal. “We?” he inquired.
Three men stepped out onto the porch with Ryan. Ryan made a wide circle with his arm encompassing the others. “Yes, we.”
“I’m here to speak with Moriah,” he said.
The men all laughed, and Lisa gripped his hand.
Lance moved forward, speaking a little louder than necessary. “I’m here to give Moriah a message from the ulfric, as well as see Joseph.”
“After you,” Ryan mocked with a bow and a gesture toward the door.
Lance gave him a dark look, and keeping a strong grip on Lisa, walked through into the healer’s house. A woman he presumed to be Moriah stood over the couch in the living room. Joseph was unconscious and in human form, some scrapes and bruises still showing on his nude body.
“Moriah,” Lisa said. “This is Lance.”
“Hi. What are you two doing here?”
“The ulfric sent us. He said to give you a message and said we could confront Joseph with what he’s done to my mate.” Partial lie of course, but that little bit of truth is why Ryan and the other weres hadn’t spotted the lie.
Moriah appeared smarter than the others. She narrowed her eyes at him then glanced at Ryan and the three men who followed them in. She did some quick movement with her hands, and he sensed Lisa tense up next to him before she pulled her hand out of his.
Lance nonchalantly took a step ostensibly toward Joseph, but opened up his stance so he could see everyone in the room. “He doesn’t look in very good shape still.”
“Don’t let him fool you,” Moriah said. “He’s weak, but healing rapidly. I don’t know why you let him live, but I hope you knew what you were doing.”
“So do I,” he replied grimly. “But there are reasons I couldn’t be the one to kill him.”
Moriah darted a glance to Lisa then back at him. “I see. Well, I have no such compunction,” she said tersely. “I’ll kill him if he twitches wrong. Vile betrayer of innocents.”
The venom in her voice rocked him. Moriah wasn’t just a guard. She was a protector. That was her gift—her primary gift. Sudden clarity shot through him. No wonder Moriah became the woman in his vision. At some point, something chang
ed, and Moriah came to be here alone when Ryan showed up, making her the target.
The shift in a vision startled him but also made him afraid. If he couldn’t trust his visions, then where was he? It had saved his life more than once. No. He had to accept that decisions could change his visions. And he’d been shown the possible differences in the outcome in the vision. Still, he didn’t know how much was literal and how much was symbolic. He started watching Ryan carefully as he racked his brains for the names of the other three. Two of them, he was sure he knew.
“Jason. How’d you get here? The whole of Wahpawhat pack is looking for you.”
“The whole of Wahpawhat pack doesn’t concern me.”
Moriah growled, and Lance’s muscles tensed. “And who’s your friend,” he demanded.
“None of your concern.” Jason laughed.
At the same time, Ryan replied, “Steven of the Seathe pack. He’s here to make sure things go how they’re supposed to.”
“I’ve seen him here before. You’re the one who poisoned Marty—both times,” Lisa said, her voice deeper than Lance had ever heard it.
The men all laughed. “You should teach your dog to keep her mouth shut. Now we’re going to have to kill all of you,” Ryan said and struck at Lance.
The other men attacked the women while Ryan fought him. He blocked Ryan’s punch with his forearm and hit him in the abdomen. Ryan gasped and hit a glancing blow off his shoulder. The bruising hit staggered him back. He kicked out and hit Ryan in the ball sack.
The man doubled over and backed away some more. Lance slowly started circling, trying to maneuver so he could get out the door, instead of having Joseph so close in case he awoke. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Moriah and Lisa doing the same. He reminded himself that Lisa was trained and could defend herself, so he needed to focus on Ryan.
The minute distraction gave Ryan an opening, and Lance’s head snapped back forcing him to take a step behind him for balance. That step back saved him. Joseph had awoke—if he’d ever been asleep—and swung the lamp at him. The lamp missed and shattered on the floor. Lance jumped forward and tried to grab Joseph before he left the building.
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