Searching her memory, she drew a blank. “I don’t—”
“Try. Think back to when you were two.”
Something…some memory, long forgotten, teased the back of her mind.
Luc slammed against the door again, causing the man to jump.
“Tell me your name,” Sam demanded.
“I’m Michael.”
“Michael?” The name, too, struck a chord, though she had no idea why. “I don’t know anyone named Michael.”
“You know me. You’ve always known me, even if we haven’t seen each other in thirty years.”
Outside in the hall, she could hear the sound of Luc conferring with Carson and someone else. From the wary look on Michael’s face, he heard them, too.
“Stop the games,” she told him. “And tell me who you are.”
“I’m your brother.”
A suffocating sensation clogged her throat. “I don’t have a brother,” she whispered.
Bam. Luc and reinforcements slammed against the door. Hard. Judging from the sound, Carson and the other man had joined him.
“Don’t say that! Of course you have a brother.”
“No, I—”
“You don’t remember me.” Michael’s voice shook—Sam couldn’t tell if it was with rage or grief.
Was it possible he was really her brother?
She chose her words carefully. “How could I? I don’t even remember my father.”
“You’re lucky.” His expression bleak, Michael began to pace. The restless energy in his movements reminded her of Luc. “Though a lot of people thought he was brilliant, I know better. He was insane.”
Swallowing, she tried to understand. “I don’t—”
“Our parents were selfish. They cared only for themselves. Our mother wanted you because you were human. But me…”
Sam could understand his pain. All her life she’d felt similar echoes whenever she wondered why her own father didn’t love her.
Again the men rammed the door. Still, the chair and the thick wood held.
“All my life, Father told me how you were destined for a life of greatness, while I…was nothing.”
“He knew?” Her voice rose. “Are you saying he knew I might be a healer, and still he left me to be raised completely ignorant?”
Michael nodded. “It’s possible. I told you he was nuts. In his own way, he hated the Pack. Even though he returned to live among them, he did everything he could to prevent them learning about you. He never knew for sure if you were really a healer.”
“He didn’t bother to try and find out.”
“I know.”
“But why?”
He lifted his hands in a shrugging gesture. “Who knows?”
The sounds from outside the door had stopped. Sam knew Luc wouldn’t have given up and gone away. More likely, he’d regrouped with Alex and Carson and was coming up with a better plan.
“I still don’t understand. Why separate siblings? Mother hated my father. She had so much bitterness, it was painful to see. But you—you’re her child. You had nothing to do with any of that.”
Expressionless, he watched her. “Evidently she felt I did. Father was the same way. Lonely and resentful. He never stopped hating her for making him leave. I think he truly believed she was his mate. When she didn’t want him, he couldn’t make himself strip her of the only one she loved—you.”
They’d each lived with the crippling knowledge, trying to fathom how a parent could abandon their own child.
“Maybe in her own way, she loved you.”
His mouth turned down. “How could you think she did? She cut me completely from her life. She never called, never sent a birthday card, and didn’t even tell her baby daughter—you—that I existed. What kind of mother does that? She simply turned her back on me and acted as though I’d never been born.”
Sam didn’t know what to say. His hurt was so visible, so similar to her own, that she wanted to hug him. But he’d kidnapped her, was trying to force her to heal him, and she still didn’t know for sure he was who he claimed to be.
“All we have is each other,” Michael said.
Sam bit her lip and said nothing. In one way, he was right—she had no family that she knew of, except for him.
If he was telling the truth. Studying his face, she saw no hint of her mother’s features or her own.
“You still doubt me?” he asked. Before she could answer, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a black-and-white photo. Passing it to her, he waited.
At first, she couldn’t comprehend. The faded picture showed a man, a woman Sam recognized as her mother in younger days, and two small toddlers, arms linked. One was Sam. The other…
“Me,” he said quietly. “Our family, in happier times, though this disease has made me look like an old man.”
Suddenly, anger filled her. “If you knew, why did you do things this way?” she asked. “Why not simply come to me and tell me? Why use force?”
The regret vanished from his face. “Because our father trained me well. He had a plan, and made sure I could implement it before he died. I am strong, a good hunter, but once your abilities are known you will have all the power. You’ll be honored and revered by our people. My people. Meanwhile, I’m…”
“Sick?”
“Dying,” he snapped. “I’m dying, Samantha.”
“Not tonight.” Handing back the photo, she kept her voice gentle. “You aren’t dying right this instant, like Lucy.”
Though he curled his lips into a snarl, he did not contradict her.
“I’m here to try to heal a dying little girl. She’d been given a week to live, but now they say she won’t last out the night. If you let me go and heal her, I give you my word I’ll heal you in a day or two.”
“No. I don’t want this cancer inside me. You’ll heal me now. Once I’m well, I’ll allow you to heal the sick kid. For a price.”
Desperately, she tried to think of an explanation that would convince him. This man—Michael, her brother—obviously cared nothing about anyone but himself.
The door splintered, and burst open with a crash.
Michael cursed. Moving so fast Sam couldn’t react, he spun and grabbed her. “I’m sorry it’s come to this,” he growled, holding a knife to her throat. “Heal me or die.”
Luc and Alex froze. Behind them, a dark-haired man who could only be Carson stared.
“Sam.” Luc started toward her.
Michael tightened his grip. “Don’t come any closer,” he warned. “Or she’s dead.”
Alex clamped his hand on Luc’s shoulder. “Calm down, man. More than Lucy’s life is in danger now—Sam’s is also at stake.”
His eyes glowing with fury, Luc nodded. Carson let go of him, glaring at Michael. “What do you want?”
“Healing,” Michael said. “And you two need to back off. This is between me and her.”
Luc made a strangled sound.
“Blood to blood,” Michael added.
“This defeats the purpose. If you kill her, you’ll have no chance of being healed.” Speaking in a calm, rational voice, Alex took a step in front of Luc, effectively blocking him. He also, Sam noticed, moved closer.
Michael laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “I know that. If you two could have left well enough alone, I wouldn’t have had to go this far. But my sister and I have some catching up to do.”
“Sister?” Luc raised a brow.
Brenna appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?” Her eyes narrowed as she took in the situation, and she began backing away. “One of the nurses has called security.”
“Keep them away or Samantha dies.”
“But…” She glanced helplessly at Carson. “My little girl is…”
“Without this healer, she’s already dead.”
“Enough,” Luc roared. Shoving aside Alex, he dived for Michael.
“No!” Carson twisted to grab him. Off balance, he only succeeded in knocking Luc s
ideways, slamming his head into the corner of the nightstand. Luc lay crumpled in a heap.
“Luc,” Sam cried.
“Don’t move.” Michael still held the knife. “He’s only stunned. He’s a full-blooded shifter. Only fire or a silver bullet can kill him.”
With a wolflike snarl, Brenna launched herself at him. Carson threw himself in her way, blocking her, holding her wrists as she raged.
This distraction enabled Luc to push himself up unnoticed. Having the same idea, Sam raised her arm, knocking the knife away from her throat at the same time Luc leaped for Michael.
The blade bit into Luc’s neck.
Everyone, including Sam, froze.
“Luc!” Brenna gasped. “Hell hounds, he’s—”
“Don’t move.” Taking advantage of the situation, Michael twisted the knife. Blood trickled from the deeper wound. “Any of you.”
Sam couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think, couldn’t move. For the first time she understood the true meaning of the word mate. “Don’t you hurt him.”
“Heal me,” Michael demanded, cutting his eyes to Sam. “If you want this man to live, heal me.”
“A knife can’t kill me,” Luc managed to gasp. “Don’t listen to him.”
The other man laughed. “Fool.” Using his other hand, he pulled out a small, chrome-plated pistol and pressed it against Luc’s temple. “This is fitted with a silencer and loaded with silver bullets, which definitely will kill you. Make the smallest move and I’ll squeeze the trigger.”
Luc smiled, a cold, feral grin. A warning, Sam knew.
“Heal me, healer,” Michael said, apparently choosing to disregard it. He made a movement, causing a thin ribbon of blood to leak from the wound and run down Luc’s neck.
Sam’s answering cry of rage was met with a smirk.
“This may not kill him, but it’ll make him suffer like hell. He’ll be pleading for that silver bullet before this is over. Now heal me.”
She tried to reason with him once more. “Michael, there’s a little girl down the hall. She’s dying. Now. Tonight. Let me heal her first, then I’ll heal you tomorrow.”
“No. Me first.”
“But she has no time. She’s—”
“Now!” he roared. “Before I lose patience and your mate dies.”
“I’ll do it,” she said, lifting her chin. “I give you my word.”
“Sam,” Luc protested. “Lucy—”
“Will be next.” She cut him off. “Let me do this.”
No one but him knew what two healings would do to her, especially ones much more complex than sick animals.
“I won’t let you die,” Luc vowed.
“Shut up.” Michael ground his teeth. “She’s already given me her word. Maybe I’ll just kill you now and get it over with.”
“You can’t force a healer to heal.”
“I’m not forcing her,” Michael said. “She’s given me her word. She wants to heal me, don’t you, Samantha?”
Swallowing hard, Sam nodded.
Eyes glittering with rage, Luc fell silent. Sam knew he was weighing his options. Surely he realized if he tried to stop her from healing Michael, he’d die and be unable to prevent anything.
She read his decision in his face. He had no choice but to stand back and watch her heal them both.
And pray she didn’t die.
In the doorway, Brenna and Carson moved closer together, silently watching.
Sam took a deep breath. “I don’t even know if this will work,” she told Michael, ignoring Brenna’s gasp. “I’ve only healed animals.”
He bared his teeth, looking more like a wolf than a man. “I’m half animal. Now do your thing.”
She barely hid a shudder of revulsion. “I have to touch you. Under your shirt.” Hesitantly, she held out her hands, moving the cloth away and placing her fingers on the bare skin of his side.
Heal. Heat flared through her into him. Michael made a sound of wonder and of ecstasy.
As always happened, Sam saw flashes of his life. This time, rather than the disjointed impressions she received from animals, she saw clearly his life with their father, a stern man whose face looked totally unfamiliar, and others of his Pack.
“Sam.” Luc was calling her name. She broke the trance to open her eyes, and saw him reaching out to touch her.
Michael growled, shifting his hand so the knife twisted in Luc’s throat. Pain flashed across Luc’s face, making Sam’s heart stutter. Though the healing process shouldn’t be interrupted, for Luc she’d risk anything. Even her life.
“Leave him alone,” she cried, lifting her too-hot hands off Michael. “Or I won’t finish.”
All of them stared at her. Carson and Brenna wore identical quizzical and worried expressions, no doubt wondering if she could heal Michael. Luc watched her with tenderness and fear warring in his face.
And Michael…Michael watched her with greed.
He wanted more. More heat, more healing, more power.
She gave him all she had, healing him and knowing what would happen once he was whole. Every animal she’d ever healed fell unconscious when her gift started to work.
Michael was no different. Collapsing, he dropped the gun. It went off, shattering the television. At the same time, he pulled the knife free from Luc’s throat.
Blood gushed. More blood than Sam had ever seen in her life.
“Luc!” she cried, running to him and instinctively placing her hands on his throat. She gave what little she had left, forgetting his life was not in danger, and refusing to let him suffer.
“No.” He shoved her away. “Save Lucy,” he managed to gasp, before collapsing again.
“He’s right.” Brenna took her arm, pleading with her eyes. “We shifters can heal ourselves.”
Dazed, barely able to lift her head, Sam looked around the room. For the first time she noticed Carson was gone. “Where is he?”
“He had to go distract a curious nurse. She heard the noise and wanted to investigate.” Brenna touched Sam’s arm. “Please come and heal my daughter.”
Sam inhaled and nodded. Holding on to Brenna’s arm for support, she allowed the other woman to lead her out of the room and down the hall.
Luc must have blacked out. When he opened his eyes, he was alone in the room with a still unconscious Michael. Sam’s brother. Whoever had gathered the intelligence on her had missed that one little detail.
Sam!
Pushing himself to his feet, he realized where everyone had gone. To Lucy’s room. The Turners didn’t know that Sam’s powers were limited.
Heart thudding hard in his chest, he staggered into the hall, hoping against hope he’d make it in time to stop her from trying to heal Lucy. Somehow, some way, the doctors would have to make the little girl hold on until tomorrow. Sam couldn’t heal her now—she’d die.
Slowly, he pulled the door open. It creaked, causing Alex to turn. He beckoned Luc inside. Sam was already kneeling by the bed. Brenna stood at her side, head bowed, Carson clasping her hand. Alex’s wife, Lyssa, watched them, her pretty face wearing a grave expression. An older man with a full head of steel-gray hair, whose scent told Luc that he was a shifter, kept a vigil at the foot of the bed. He must be Dr. Nettles.
And Sam…In an instant, Luc realized Sam had already placed her hands on Lucy’s chest. Energy pulsed in the room, so strong and intense that it reminded him of how he felt when he changed and became wolf.
Damn. Lucy looked so tiny, so helpless, dwarfed by the large hospital bed. And Brenna—beautiful, kind Brenna, wore an expression of such hope she appeared transformed.
How could he stop this? He couldn’t.
Yet he knew he couldn’t lose Sam.
Quietly, he moved closer. Neither Brenna nor Sam acknowledged his presence, though Carson gave him a small nod. Under Sam’s hands, the little girl took shallow breaths, her chest rising and then appearing to collapse. Lucy looked so wan and lifeless, so different from the bright, vibrant child
he remembered.
Could Sam heal her? And if she did, would she be sacrificing her own life for Lucy’s?
Frozen, Luc found himself praying for the first time since his brother died.
All he could think about was Sam’s narrow brush with death after healing both the cat and the poodle. She knew the risks, yet still was willing to try to heal the three-year-old after curing her own long-lost, deranged brother.
Luc took a deep breath. God, how he loved her.
His throat aching, he stared at the tableau by the hospital bed, watching Sam and Lucy, uncertain what would happen to either of them if he interrupted now.
Radiating from the little girl, the heat and pressure and sense of power increased, constricting Luc’s throat, his chest. What was this? In all his research on healers, he hadn’t come across this. It was something new and different. A quick glance at the others told him they felt it, too.
Head bowed in prayer, Brenna moaned, an echo of sound so low and otherworldly it sent a shiver down Luc’s spine. Not quite a howl, closer to a cry.
A moment later, Alex tipped his head back and joined in. Not an expression of mourning, or even despair, but of hope and unity.
Of Pack.
Luc felt an answering cry building in him. The noise escaped him—almost as if pulled from his throat.
Only the humans, Carson and Lyssa, were silent, watching the shifters with wide eyes. The humans—and Sam. Head bent, the Halfling who could not change used her energy to heal.
While Luc watched, Lucy’s pale skin became flushed. Faint at first, the color spread from her chest, slowly infusing her with rose. With health.
Brenna gave a glad cry and they all crowded around the bed, touching one another, drawing on each other’s strength.
So intent were they on Lucy’s returning health, none of them noticed Sam growing paler, bloodless, as though the healing process stole every ounce of her vitality. As if she were giving her own life force to the sick little girl.
Now Luc finally understood why healing drained her.
The monitors hooked to the little girl started going crazy. The doctor quickly punched some buttons, quieting the sound.
“Mama?” Lucy opened her eyes. Bright, curious eyes the color of a robin’s egg, full of curiosity and health.
Touch of the Wolf Page 14