Jewel shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably the same way the Texas Pack did. You know how gossip works. One person tells another, etc. With e-mail, rumors can crisscross the country in hours.”
“Have you looked for him?”
“No.” She and her husband shared another long glance. “My mate and I just got back. Actually, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind taking a look around. Maybe you can sniff him out.”
Luc cocked his head, considering. “I can do that,” he finally said, glancing at Colton. The human watched the conversation with interest, seemingly unfazed by all this talk of Packs and healers.
“I’ve adapted,” Colton said, not the least bit apologetic.
Jewel reached for her mate’s hand. The movement seemed unconscious, as though she craved his touch without deliberate thought.
Luc envied her that.
Something must have shown in his face. Watching him closely, Jewel made a tsking sound. “You aren’t married, are you?”
He shook his head, then asked the question he most wanted answered. “How’d you know?” He looked from one to the other. “When you first met, did you both instantly realize the other was meant for you?”
Both Jewel and Colton laughed. “Not hardly,” the man drawled. “But something drew me to her. I couldn’t seem to stay away.”
Intrigued, Luc leaned across the table. “What happened when you learned she could shift? Were you prepared? Or did it just come as one big shock?”
“You’re in love with a human?” Disarmingly perceptive, Jewel gave him a sympathetic look.
“Not exactly.” No way was he going to explain and let her report back to her Pack that he thought the healer was his mate. Not only would that complicate things, but his claim would supersede any they might make, making the healer’s home Pack the one in New York.
Just thinking about this made him scowl. Politics like this he didn’t want to get involved in. Ever.
The waitress came and took their orders. All three ordered the largest steaks available, cooked rare. Once she departed, both Colton and Jewel stared at Luc expectantly, waiting for his answer.
Instead, he steered the conversation back to the reason they’d met. The healer.
“Do either of you know her?”
Jewel shook her head. “I’m just getting to know people here. I had a rocky start.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.” Colton chuckled. “I know her, and I can’t believe y’ all are talking about Sam Warren. I’ve known her ever since I moved to town. Nice lady. But she’s just a regular woman—a librarian, for Pete’s sake—not some mystical healer. Maybe you’ve gotten her mixed up with Patricia Lelane, the vet. Now she’s a healer if I ever saw one.”
When neither Luc nor Jewel laughed, Colton raised his hands. “Fine. Assuming you know what you’re doing, I’ll stay out of it.”
The steaks arrived and they all dug in. Luc and Jewel ran a close race, devouring theirs before Colton had eaten half of his.
“You’re not wolves, you’re pigs,” he snorted.
Luc grinned and checked his watch. Tossing three ten-dollar bills on the table, he stood. “I enjoyed meeting you two. Dinner is on me.”
“Let me know if you find out anything about this rogue shifter, okay?” Jewel asked, her expression concerned.
“I will.”
With a lot to think about, Luc drove back to check on Sam.
She still slept. He sat by her bed in the darkness and watched her, marveling at the connection they shared. Did she feel it, too? He thought of the way she’d kissed him, and knew she must.
Feeling both exhilarated and lonely, Luc went outside. The moon hung weakly in the November sky, barely a sliver. He walked the length of Sam’s backyard, heading toward the trees. Once he’d reached the woods, he removed his clothes, stashing them in the deep crotch of a tree.
Cross-legged, he took a seat on the ground. Tasting the cold night air, he smelled deer and rabbit and raccoon, but no other predators.
Yet. A wolf’s nose worked infinitely better than a human’s.
One last look around and Luc pushed himself to his knees. Crouching low on all fours, he concentrated and began the change. The time had come to hunt.
As his bones lengthened and his body reformed, joy filled him. The wolf had been forced into submission far too long. Now he pushed harder against the human cage than he’d ever done before.
Luc erupted into wolf, rather than changed.
Though flashes of light always accompanied a change, this time the color was intense, fluorescent and blinding. Releasing his last shred of humanity, Luc gave himself over to wolf, and the change became complete.
Wolf, Luc rose to his feet and tasted the breeze. He smelled only November—the hint of a cold snap hovering to the north, the acrid taste of smoke left from someone who’d burned leaves earlier.
Glorying in his strength, he roamed the forest for hours, glad to feel the moist earth beneath his paws, constantly searching the air for the scent of another shifter.
But though he revisited all the areas where the werewolf had been seen, he had no luck.
Once, deep within the woods near a fast-moving stream, he found a spot where a campfire had burned, but the faded scent was completely human. It could have belonged to hikers or campers. No, he was looking for the trace of shifter.
He’d talked to several people in town and knew where each claimed to have seen the werewolf. Yet as he traveled to each and every place in his wolf form, not once did he pick up a single hint that told him shifter.
Luc wasn’t aware of a way any shifter could completely obliterate his or her scent. Perhaps the rumors were wrong.
Finally, as the winter moon hung cold and distant in the inky sky, he changed back to human form, found his clothes and climbed in his rental car to head back to Sam’s. He’d learned absolutely nothing.
Time crept slowly forward, like a tortoise looking for a pond. He grew impatient, waiting for the leaves to change. Instead, he woke one morning to find most of them dead, clinging stubbornly to the trees as though they meant to remain that way forever.
Forever. He felt as if he’d waited for the Halfling to reveal herself for an eternity. Waited with his patience unraveling like a frayed rope, slivers and chunks pulling free until an entire lifetime became encompassed in the threads.
Though only days had passed, his life was now measured in days. The time had come. He was dying. Nothing could save him but hope. Nothing could help him but a healer.
He must grab the woman. Now, when the days merged into nights and the weeks into months. Now, when he could no longer tell whether he was man or wolf or both or none. All he knew was that he wearied of the wait.
He grunted, for a moment forgetting what shape he wore. Glancing down at his forelimbs, he saw pale skin and ragged nails. Human, then. Good.
Now he would succeed. And live. Even the scrabbly trees whispered this in the wind. The time had come to make another move.
Dimly aware of Luc returning, Sam struggled to wake enough to greet him. But her body craved sleep as much as she craved his touch, and she couldn’t make her eyes open or her voice work.
The next thing she knew, sunlight streamed in the windows. Stretching, she realized Luc lay beside her, one leg over hers.
Instantly, desire flared. He resembled nothing so much as a dark angel, beautiful and sensual. Even as she debated bending in for a kiss, he opened his eyes.
“Morning.” His smile made her stomach flip-flop.
“You stayed with me.” The minute she spoke, she regretted opening her mouth.
“Except for a brief walk through the woods, yes.” His pupils darkened. “Do you always look this good when you wake up in the morning?”
As she tried to come up with a witty reply, he sat up, narrowing his eyes. “What is that?” Lifting his head, his nostrils flared. “Do you smell—?”
“Smoke.” She sniffed the air, too, hoping the odor came
from someone burning leaves. No such luck. A quick glance down the hallway revealed wisps of smoke drifting from underneath the closed closet door.
She climbed out of bed and headed toward it.
“Wait.” Luc grabbed her arm. “You get the cat and go outside. Call 911 from your cell phone. Let me see if I can contain it.”
She didn’t want to leave her home, but he made sense. Scooping up the agitated cat, she headed for the door. Halfway there, something exploded. A shower of sparks, then black, pungent smoke poured from the doorway adjacent to the den.
“My kitchen!” Sam reversed direction, but Luc’s broad-shouldered body intercepted her.
“Outside.”
“But—” The smoke grew thicker, making it hard to breathe.
“Go. That sounded like a grenade. Wait for me outside.” He disappeared into the thick cloud of smoke.
Coughing, she reached for the door handle. Stumbling outside, eyes watering, she placed the cat on the grass and doubled over, gasping for air. Beside her, the cat bristled and coughed, hacking smoke from his lungs.
Flames billowed up into the sky. The entire back of her house appeared to be on fire.
Another explosion rocked the night. Luc! Had he gotten out?
A maroon van pulled up to the curb. Ignoring it, Sam struggled to straighten, watching for Luc, praying he would appear on the porch any second. The cat darted off, crouching behind a shrub.
“Are you all right?” An older man wearing sunglasses and a cowboy hat over long, silver hair, came up to her. When Sam looked up and opened her mouth to respond, he jabbed something sharp in her arm.
“What the—!”
“Sedative, sweetheart. You’re going to sleep. When you wake up, you’re going to heal me.”
What? Sam tried to move away, but the drug had already begun to take effect. The man’s image wavered as she felt her legs go boneless. She slid to the grass while the cat watched from under his bush.
Help me! Luc…
As if she’d summoned him, Luc appeared on the porch, the blaze behind him illuminating his powerful figure. Sam tried to lift her hand toward him, gasping as the stranger grasped her under the arms and began dragging her to the van. She slipped in and out of consciousness, aware only that she mustn’t let the stranger get her into his vehicle.
The sound of Luc’s feet pounding the earth echoed her heartbeat. She opened her eyes to blurrily register his flying leap as he tackled the other man. The two of them tangling on the lawn were the last things she saw and heard before the drug finally claimed her and the world went black.
The gray-haired stranger went down far too easily, and too late to soften the blow. Luc realized the man was hiding his frailty behind baggy clothes. At least the bastard let go of Sam, who promptly moaned and sank to the ground beside the still-as-death cat.
“Do you not realize what she is? Let me have the healer,” the man said, scrambling to his feet.
In that instant, Luc got a whiff of his scent and growled. Pack. The other man was Pack. A Halfling. Worse, he’d called Sam a healer. That meant he knew what she might be able to do.
Was this man the werewolf who’d been terrorizing Anniversary?
The stranger seemed to realize Luc had discerned his true nature. He backed away and took off for the van. Luc started to follow, but Sam moaned again and he went to her instead.
When he reached her, what he saw on the ground beside her nearly stopped his heart. A syringe.
Hell hounds.
Snarling in fury, he spun and sprinted for the van. With a squeal of tires, it pulled away just as he reached for the door handle.
He cursed again, committing the license plate to memory. Grabbing his cell phone, he dialed 911 and reported the explosion and the van, but not the abduction attempt. He hung up without identifying himself.
Once he’d finished, he scooped up Sam and deposited her in the backseat of his car. He returned and made a cursory search for the cat. The animal must have run off. He’d call Patricia and have her come out and find it.
Just as Luc would let the authorities deal with the fire. No way was he leaving Sam in anyone else’s hands.
At first, he started to take her to his motel room. But then he realized a lot of people, Patricia included, might believe he’d set the fire, and send the authorities after him. Even though he’d done nothing, time spent in a police station lockup was time he could not afford. Especially with Sam unconscious.
No, his motel room was no longer safe, at least not until she woke and could tell the authorities the truth.
Even then, the Halfling who’d tried to grab her might still be a dangerous threat. He’d used a syringe, though if he wanted Sam to heal him, Luc wagered the effects of whatever drug he’d selected would be only temporary.
The question of how the Halfling had known about Sam remained. As far as Luc knew, only two Packs were aware of her potential—the New York Pack and the Texas Pack, both of which disallowed him. Though word might have spread, it had only been a little over three weeks since Sam had healed Tomas. No way would the news have made it to outsiders so quickly.
The other man had been a Halfling. If not Texas or New York, then what Pack? Though he’d looked vaguely familiar, Luc couldn’t place him. He’d had the look of an outsider, an outcast. And, if he turned out to be the legendary werewolf stalking Anniversary, he’d broken several major Pack laws.
Sam made a sound, reminding Luc he had more immediate problems. He drove to the edge of town and parked on the shoulder of the road, trying to decide. He’d left only a few changes of clothes in the motel room, and his toiletries could be replaced.
While he debated, he placed a call to Carson.
“How’s Lucy?” he asked. The silence on the other end of the line tied his stomach in knots.
“Not good,” Carson finally replied, his voice vibrating with tension. “What’s keeping you, man?”
Luc started to explain about the fire and the failed abduction attempt, but some instinct made him ask another question instead. “What are you not telling me?”
His friend gave a weary sigh. “I just got off the phone with Dr. Nettles. Lucy’s slipped into a coma. They aren’t optimistic about her chances.”
Closing his eyes, Luc swallowed. “Give it to me straight.”
Tears came through in the other man’s voice. “They say she doesn’t have long—” His voice broke. Clearing his throat, he finished. “She doesn’t have long to live.”
“What? A month? A week? How much longer?” Luc couldn’t take an unconscious—and uncooperative-woman on a plane. Plus, he needed at least a day or two to make Sam aware of her heritage. “Give it to me straight.”
Carson spoke in the unemotional tone of a man who no longer believed in miracles. “They’ve given her a week to ten days, Luc. No more. How quickly can you get the healer here?”
“Give me two days,” Luc said.
Carson started to comment, then drew a breath. “Please get her here as quickly as you can. She’s our last hope.”
Luc took I-45 north, heading out of town toward Dallas. He’d pick up I-30 there and head northeast, hoping to make the Arkansas border before dark. Surely once he explained the situation, Sam would understand.
Curled up in the backseat, Sam slept. Luc drove until his eyesight blurred, drove until the winter moon hung like a chilly sliver in the inky sky. As each hour passed and Sam didn’t stir, his worry grew. Whatever drug the Halfling had injected into her was strong.
When he reached Texarkana, he found a cheap motel and stopped for the night. He’d have a full day tomorrow when Sam woke and demanded an explanation. She wouldn’t take kindly to him carrying her off without her knowledge.
The fire, the stranger trying to grab her, these events conspired to give him reasons to get her out of town. But, though she’d been with him when the fire had started, once he started talking about Pack and shape-shifters, he wouldn’t blame her if she suspected he’d s
et the fire.
At the motel office, he left her in the car while he checked in. Then, driving around to the back and their room, he left the car running while he unlocked the door and propped it open.
She woke when he turned the ignition off, barely. As he lifted her out of the car, she mumbled something about the cat and snuggled into him. His chest tightened.
Mate. One more secret he had to share with her.
Carrying her into the motel room, he rehearsed what he’d say once she regained consciousness. Bad enough to wake in a strange bed with him beside her, but once she learned they were in Arkansas on their way to New York…
Lucy. He must think of Lucy. With her life at stake, saving her came first, not the wishes of the woman he now knew to be the only one for him.
Once he’d settled Sam in bed, he covered her with the light blanket and told himself he wouldn’t touch her again. Instead of watching her sleep, he took a seat in the hard-backed chair at the desk and stared at the phone. Should he call Frank and tell him what he’d done?
How long he sat motionless with Sam’s soft breathing the only sound in the room, he didn’t know. Her scent, light and floral and earthy, seemed to fill the space, just from her presence. He felt oddly content, strangely at peace.
A noise from outside, low and guttural like a banshee’s moan, roused him. Curious, he went to the window, peering around the curtain. Outside, the wind had picked up, sending the bare tree branches flying like frenetic, grasping claws. The moon had disappeared, replaced by huge, roiling clouds.
A November storm. Arkansas got snow, he knew, but he also remembered reading reports of ice storms snarling electrical lines, downing trees and destroying homes.
Fat raindrops spattered the window. They came down hard and angrily, as if a warning of a gale yet to come. Lightning flashed; a few seconds later came the sharp crack of thunder. So far, only rain. Luc let the curtain fall. How ironic! The stormy weather mirrored the tumult inside him.
Sam slept through it all.
Touch of the Wolf Page 9