Jacques froze. "You're sure?"
"Yes. You have to warn Lord Kyran and the others."
"Shh. I'll take care of it, but you have to calm down before you tear something open." Jacques smoothed a hand over Soren's chest. "That human doctor did one hell of a job patching you up. It'd be a shame to waste his handiwork."
At the mention of Ryan Hightower, Soren went cold. "The doctor...dear God, he knows what we are. The others--"
"Aren't going to touch a hair on his head," Paxton Elliguard said as he sailed into the room. "Sorry. I couldn't help but overhear."
"I don't care about that, but I have to know that Hightower won't be harmed." Soren felt a mingled stab of guilt and pain as he struggled to sit up. "I dragged him into this. He deserves our protection."
"And he has it." Jacques put his hands on Soren's shoulders and eased him back down to the mattress. "Lord Kyran has marked Ryan Hightower with the full protection of the pack. No one's going to come after him, Soren." He was quiet for a minute. "You took quite a risk, calling out to him."
"It was the only choice," Soren said. "You and the others would never have gotten to me in time. Besides, I knew I could trust him." The minute he'd peaked into Ryan's head, Soren had known his secrets would be safe with the man.
"I'm just glad you were able to communicate with him." Jacques paused. "You know that should have been impossible, right?"
Soren closed his eyes. He didn't want to think about that. Not now.
Jacques seemed to get the message. He patted Soren's shoulder, then stood. "I'd better get back to the village. Mother and Delia are worried sick."
Soren didn't say anything, just allowed his ravaged body to slide back into sleep.
***
When next he woke, morning light was creeping through the window. Soren blinked himself awake, then turned to find Ryan Hightower sleeping in the bedside chair. Yesterday he'd been too focused on survival to give Ryan more than a cursory glance, but this morning Soren took a long, hard look at the man.
He was handsome in a classical, human sort of way, with a messy mop of short brown hair crowning his angular face. Average height, not nearly as tall as Soren himself, but well built. Ryan wasn't wearing a shirt, exposing a muscular chest and the same kind of tight, firm stomach that really flipped Soren's switch.
He made a face. No way was he going to start ogling humans. Instead, Soren refocused his gaze, his eyes landing on the patch of scar tissue over Ryan's heart.
Soren spared the man a moment of sympathy. His own chest was aching like a son of a bitch.
"Mine doesn't hurt." Ryan opened his eyes and looked directly into Soren's. "Not anymore."
Soren cursed under his breath. "You were reading my mind."
"Don't blame me." Ryan stretched. "You started it."
"Yeah, well...it's amazing how desperate a man gets when he's been shot in the chest."
"Speaking of, I'd better check your wound." Ryan stood on noticeably stiff legs. "Be right back."
Soren watched him limp out of the room. The movement was infused with an odd sort of grace, and Soren couldn't help but feel a grudging admiration for a man who'd been so injured, yet remained so strong.
If you want to know what happened, all you have to do is ask.
Soren bit back a growl. "Stop speaking into my head," he yelled out.
Ryan came back in with a medical bag in his hand and a grin on his face.
"Sorry, but it's a novel experience for me." He set the bag on the foot of the bed, then came to stand closer to Soren. "Can all of your people do it? The mind-speak thing, I mean."
"Telepathy is just like any other talent. Some have it, and some don't." Soren jumped as Ryan began working loose the tape on his chest. "Damn, that hurts."
"Quit being a baby." Ryan peeled away the layers of bandages. "Looks like it's healing well." He prodded the neat row of stitches with one finger. "No sign of infection."
"My people heal fast." Soren pushed his hand away. "Stop poking me."
"If you have the energy to be this surly, I know you'll make a full recovery." Ryan pulled a roll of clean gauze from his bag. "I'll bandage you back up, then give you a shot for the pain."
Soren shook his head. "Human painkillers don't work on us."
"Elliguard told me. That's why he brought some supplies over last night."
The last thing Soren wanted was to be doped up. "Thanks, but I'll be fine. Unlike you humans, my people heal fast."
"Suit yourself." Ryan taped the fresh bandages in place, then stepped away. "Did you know that your lip curls every time you say the word?"
Soren had no idea what he was talking about. "What word?"
"Human." Ryan closed his bag with a snap. "You've got a serious prejudice going for my kind."
"Are you calling me a bigot?"
"I'm not calling you anything, just making an observation." Ryan grabbed the bag and headed for the door. "Try to get some rest. I'll be back in to check on you later."
Soren watched him go, a mixture of righteous indignation and anger percolating in his gut. How dare Ryan insinuate that he was some kind of humaphobe? It wasn't Soren's fault that he'd been genetically blessed. And why did he care what Ryan Hightower thought, anyway? So what if the doctor was one of the most intriguing men he'd ever met? It wasn't like Soren was attracted to the guy. No way would he ever let himself fall for a mere mortal.
Soren argued himself to sleep.
***
Three days. Three days of Soren in his house, grousing and snapping like the wounded animal he was. Three days of living with the knowledge that his house was under guard by creatures who weren't even supposed to exist. Three days of being under the same roof with the sexiest man he'd ever seen, a man who thought Ryan's entire species was three steps down on the evolutionary chain.
If Ryan didn't get out of the house--and soon--he was going to go out of his mind.
He carried a breakfast tray into the guest room, where Soren was already awake, sitting up in bed. He looked pale, and for a minute Ryan was afraid he'd reopened his injury.
"Are you all right?" Ryan plunked the tray onto the dresser, then rushed to the bed. "Are you hurting?"
Soren gave a quick shake of his head. "I'm fine. Just...just had a dream is all."
"A nightmare?"
Soren turned his gaze away from Ryan's face. "Something like that."
"I'd say that's normal, under the circumstances." Ryan went back to fetch the tray. "God knows I had more than my fair share of bad dreams after my accident."
Soren was quiet for a minute, studying him. Finally, he said, "You told me all I had to do was ask if I wanted to know about the accident."
"So?"
"So, I'm asking," Soren said. "Unless you've changed your mind and don't want to talk about it."
"It's okay." Ryan placed the tray on Soren's lap, then sat down at the foot of the bed. "I've made my peace with it." He sighed. "You've already figured out that it's been a while since I stopped practicing medicine, right?"
Soren nodded.
"It's been over a year and a half since I stepped foot in a hospital." Ryan waited for the pain that usually came when he thought about his lost career, but oddly enough, it never materialized. He cleared his throat. "I lost a patient."
"Your first one?"
Ryan shook his head. "I practiced medicine for nearly six years. I lost several, I'm sorry to say, but this one was different." The twisted, scarred face of the gang-banger he'd tried to save flashed into his mind. "This kid was a drug dealer, had been shot twice in the head at point blank range by a rival. His brain was already scrambled when they brought him in."
Soren folded his hands over his stomach, ignoring his untouched breakfast. "Doesn't sound like there was anything you could've done."
"There wasn't, but I had to try. The minute I opened him up, I knew it was a lost cause, but the other members of this kid's crew..." Ryan's breath hitched as he thought back to the shouts o
f anger and denial that had filled the waiting room that morning. "Let's just say they weren't so understanding."
"In other words, they needed someone to blame besides the actual shooter, and you looked like as good a fall guy as any."
"Exactly."
Soren's dark eyes softened. "What did they do to you, Ryan?"
"Sabotaged my car." Ryan scrubbed a hand over his face. "Cut the brakes."
"Jesus."
"I guess they figured a life for a life and all that." Ryan shook himself. "I ended up plummeting off a rocky shoulder into a ravine." The doctor in him sought the cool detachment of a medical explanation. "Shattered my knee and broke both my femur and my tibia in more places than I care to count." He managed a weak smile. "I have more pins and screws in me than Ace Hardware."
Soren didn't laugh. Instead, he pointed to Ryan's chest, to the jagged scars marring his skin. "And those? Did that happen in the accident, as well."
"Yes and no." Ryan struggled with the memory. "The guy who rigged my car...he followed me home from work to make sure he'd done the job right."
"Don't tell me he--"
Ryan nodded. "When he realized I wasn't killed in the accident, he pulled me out of the car and stabbed me three times for good measure."
Soren's handsome face became an angry mask. "Say the word and my people will hunt him down and feast on his entrails."
"Uh...thank you, but no. The cops nabbed him and his buddies. Got a life sentence each after the DA tacked on some of their other crimes."
"They deserved worse." To Ryan's surprise, Soren reached out his hand and clasped Ryan's arm. "You're a strong man. You wouldn't have survived it, otherwise."
Ryan hadn't felt strong--then or now--and the compliment embarrassed him. He stood up. "I came in here to tell you that I'm going to run into town for supplies. I should go." He turned to leave, then stopped and pivoted halfway back around. "You need anything?"
"No, thank you."
Ryan gave one nod, then made to leave.
"Ryan?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for telling me."
"Thank you for listening." Ryan gave him a hesitant grin. "Who'd have thought you were so good at it?"
***
Who'd have thought you were so good at it? Two hours after Ryan left and the words were still ringing in Soren's head. Amazing that a backhanded compliment from a mere human could please him in such a way.
Soren cursed under his breath as he paced the length of the guest room and back again. Ryan Hightower was no mere mortal, and he damned well knew it. First the mind-speak, then that damn dream. Soren went hot all over as the sleep images came back to him, he and Ryan locked together with Soren's cock buried in that tight ass. More than sex, the dream had been about a claiming, and Soren was half scared, half hopeful that the dream had been nothing less than a prediction of the future.
He kicked at the bedpost. Damn the man and his heroic story of survival, anyway. From the minute Soren had heard all that Ryan had endured, an odd, protective curtain had fallen into place. Soren, who made it a point to avoid humans like the plague, was actually aching to take Ryan into his arms and kiss it all better.
"Careful, little brother. Your soft side's starting to show."
Soren jumped as Jacques sailed into the bedroom. He pinned his brother with a withering stare. "It's bad enough I've got Ryan playing around in my head. I don't need you there, as well."
"Couldn't help it," Jacques said. He set the suitcase he was holding onto the floor. "Your thoughts were all but screaming at me."
Soren ignored that last comment and pointed to the suitcase. "What's that?"
"Clothes, dumbass." Jacques pointed to Soren's nude form. "Wouldn't do to greet Lords Kyran and Saxton bare assed, now would it?"
"They're here?"
Jacques nodded. "In the living room."
"I'll be dressed and out in two minutes."
"Gotcha." Jacques went out to wait.
Soren made quick work of grabbing some jeans and a t-shirt from the suitcase. Nudity was no big deal amongst shifters, but it felt good to be wearing clothes again. He'd been half hard so many times around Ryan that it would also add an advantage the next time he and the doctor were alone together.
Once dressed, Soren stepped out into the living room. Kyran and Saxton were sitting on the sofa, the two of them managing to look regal despite being crowded in amongst cardboard boxes and packing crates.
"Soren." Kyran stood up to shake Soren's hand. "You're looked a damn site better than I expected."
Saxton rose. "I'm sorrier about this than I can say."
Soren arched a brow. "You've no reason to apologize to me, Lord Saxton."
"I'm afraid I do." Saxton gave a weary sigh. "I have reason to believe the hunter you encountered in the woods is here because of me."
Soren sat down hard in the chair across from the sofa. "You're going to have to explain that one."
Kyran and Saxton reclaimed their seats. Soren noticed for the first time that Jacques had made himself scarce. He got a bad feeling that whatever Saxton had to tell him was one hell of a bombshell.
Saxton opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again as if unsure what to say. Kyran wrapped one arm around his lover's shoulder.
"Easy, love. Just take your time and tell Soren what he needs to know."
Saxton leaned into the embrace for a moment, then pulled back and took a deep breath. He looked at Soren. "You know about my powers?"
Soren nodded. Saxton's talents were no secret amongst their clan. He had the power to transmit pain from one mind to another--a rare gift that made him a man not to cross.
"Unfortunately," Saxton said, "the elders of my former clan--the one I fled long before I met Kyran--knew of my powers, too. They'd hoped to harness them for their own use."
Soren could see that. "You told them to go to hell, I'm guessing."
"Yes, but here's where it gets tricky." Saxton drew in a deep breath. "There was a member of the clan, a human named Mercer, who wouldn't take no for an answer."
"A human." Soren's eyes went wide. "What was a human doing amongst a clan of shifters?"
"Mercer was married to our alpha's daughter," Saxton said. "Because of Mercer's standing in the community surrounding the clan, the marriage was approved."
"It's not unusual for shifters to marry humans." Kyran looked Soren in the eye. "You above all others should know that."
Soren looked away. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of his past.
Saxton must have sensed Soren's reticence, because he changed the subject. "From the description of the hunter Jacques took from your memories, I'd say he and Mercer are one in the same. It's been a while since I've seen the man, but the resemblance is too close to be a coincidence."
"But how would Mercer have known where to find me? I made certain I wasn't followed while I was here, scouting out Ryan's house."
"I knew it. You were spying on me."
Soren turned to see Ryan standing in the doorway, face flooded with color.
He swallowed. "Ryan, I--"
Ryan ignored him, making his way instead to where Kyran and Saxton were sitting. He stuck out his hand. "Ryan Hightower. In case you missed it, this is my house."
"I know." Kyran stood and shook with him. "Kyran Durand, Alpha of Clan Thorn." He gestured to Saxton, who'd also risen from the sofa to shake Ryan's hand. "This is my consort, Saxton Talcott."
"A pleasure," Saxton said. "Kyran and I are in your debt for saving Soren's life."
"He wouldn't have been here if you hadn't sent him to spy on me in the first place."
"Ryan." Soren came to his feet. "That's enough."
Kyran held up one hand. "Dr. Hightower is right. We owe him an apology." He met Ryan's accusing eyes with a level gaze. "My only excuse is concern for my clan. When we realized a stranger had bought this property, we felt it wise to take precautions."
Ryan was quiet, watching Kyran with an intensi
ty that made Soren nervous. After a tense minute, Ryan nodded. "I can accept that." He took a step back. "I'll leave you to your meeting."
"There's no need." Kyran slipped his hand into Saxton's. "We were just leaving." He looked to Soren. "As for your last question, I have no idea how Mercer knew to target one of our men here, or why he went after you, specifically. All I can promise is that I won't rest until I find out." He straightened. "Until I do, we're adding extra patrols around the property. You and your ... Dr. Hightower will be protected."
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