by Zoe Chant
Hugh’s mouth twisted. “It’s worse than that. Let’s just say that there’s more than one reason why there aren’t many of my kind.”
Unicorns had been hunted nearly to extinction during medieval times. As far as most shifters knew, they were extinct. But even before they’d been targeted for their horns, they’d never been numerous.
A unicorn could mate…but only at a terrible cost.
It would be worth it, his unicorn said softly, in the depths of his soul.
Hugh shook his head free of the ridiculous thought. He absently rubbed his left bicep, tracing the lines of ink hidden under his sleeve.
“I can’t have a mate, Ash,” he said. “And that’s why I don’t want the rest of the team to know about her. The damn idiots would never let it go. I wouldn’t be able to explain without revealing what I am.”
Ash was silent for a moment. “Even if you are unable to…there are other ways of showing love.”
“You think I haven’t thought of that?” Hugh snapped. “Could you be around your true mate, every day, unable to claim her?”
Ash’s gaze flicked sideways, to the closed door of the pub. “It is preferable to never seeing her at all.”
“No, it’s not,” Hugh said. “Better to cut her off cleanly, rather than torment us both with something we can never have.”
“I thought that too, once,” Ash said, very quietly. “But you will find that it is not so easily done.”
Hugh looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
The hint of human warmth in Ash’s face fled, his expression hardening back into its usual impassive lines. “I was merely referring to John and Griff. They too attempted to deny their mates. You know how successful they were.”
“I’m not them. I’m used to dealing with constant pain.” Hugh straightened, setting his shoulders. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my mate. Even from me.”
Chapter 5
“I’m not going.” Hope’s bottom lip stuck out like a toddler about to throw a tantrum.
Ivy dumped an armload of clothes into the duffel bag lying open on the bed. “Yes you are.”
“We can’t run away again!” Hope swiveled her wheelchair, blocking Ivy’s path as she headed for the dresser again. “Not now, when things are finally looking up! We’ve got a nice apartment, you’ve got a job, I’m doing well at school, I’ve got friends—“
“Yeah, well, you should have thought of all that before you decided to snuggle up to a shifter crime boss, shouldn’t you?” Ivy said. “Move out of the way.”
“I didn’t know that’s what Gaze was!” Hope didn’t budge. “As far as I knew, he was a nice guy. I looked him up on Facebook! He has a charity helping out homeless shifter kids!”
Ivy snorted. “No, he has a tax-deductible scam that supplies him with brainwashed foot soldiers for his little mafia. Obviously. Why can’t you ever think?”
“Oh, yes, because that’s clearly the reasoning process of a well-balanced and healthy mind,” Hope snapped back. “Excuse me for not wanting to live my entire life like a paranoid sociopath.”
“You’re only alive because I look out for you!” Ivy kicked Hope’s wheelchair out of the way with one booted foot, regardless of her sister’s squawk of outrage. “And if we want to stay alive, we have to clear out. Right now. Tonight.”
Hope’s battered wheelchair jammed as she tried to reverse out of the corner. It hadn’t been in great shape even before it had been dropped down an elevator. Now one of the axles was bent, and kept sticking unpredictably.
“Here,” Ivy said, feeling a stab of guilt as her sister wrestled with the unwieldy machine. “Let me help.“
“I can take care of myself,” Hope snarled.
Hope’s thin hands tugged futilely at the rims. Ivy could only watch for a few seconds before she couldn’t stand it anymore. Without a word, she took hold of the wheelchair handlebars. Hope’s shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t protest as Ivy dragged the heavy device backward.
“Goddamn piece of crap,” Ivy muttered over the groan of protesting metal. “I’m gonna get you a new one, I promise.”
“With what?” Hope’s lower lip was still stuck out mulishly, but now there was a hint of a tremble about it. “Running away and starting over is going to wipe out every penny of our savings.”
Ivy flinched from the uncharacteristic bleakness in Hope’s voice. She knew the reason.
After nearly two years of scrimping, they’d almost saved enough for the down payment on a basic electric wheelchair. Hope never complained, but it was painfully obvious that she’d been finding it harder and harder to manage the manual one.
At the rate she’s been slowing down, she won’t be able to move herself at all in a matter of months.
Her wyvern stirred, and Ivy quickly shoved the grim thought to the bottom of her mind. There wasn’t anything either she or her beast could do about her sister’s degenerative, fatal condition. But her animal didn’t understand that.
Her wyvern would burn down the world, because nothing mattered without Hope.
“I’ll figure something out,” Ivy said, trying to sound confident enough to convince even herself. “One problem at a time. Let’s just concentrate on getting out of here.”
“Do we really have to go?” Hope said plaintively, as Ivy started packing again. “You got off last time with the police, with the plea-bargain and giving testimony against that awful pegasus Killian. Couldn’t you, I don’t know, offer to turn Gaze in?”
“For what? Throwing a Christmas party?” Ivy made a face. “He never flat-out said he did anything illegal. Even if he had, it would just have been talk. I’m the one who committed actual property damage.”
“It was self-defense. He did attack you first.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure any jury is really going to take my word for that. Besides, the police are the least of our worries. Think, Hope. I defied an alpha crime boss in front of his own gang, and destroyed half his apartment to boot. You think someone like Gaze is just going to let that slide?”
Hope bit her lip. “We could…we could ask for help.”
Ivy let out a bark of disbelieving laughter. “From who? The police?”
“From Alpha Team.”
Ivy jumped as if Hope had zapped her with a taser. Underwear cascaded out of her hands, scattering over the bed.
How did she guess? What gave me away?
“No. Definitely not. No way.” Ivy scrabbled for the fallen pants, keeping her back turned to hide her expression. “You heard him, he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“What?” Hope sounded baffled. “You mean Hugh? Never mind him, from what I’ve heard he’s rude to everyone. I was talking about Griff. He’s always been nice to us.”
“His name’s Hugh?” The words slipped out before she could catch them.
“Well, I don’t think there can be two white-haired shifter paramedics in Brighton, so yeah, I’m betting that was Hugh Argent. Griff’s told me about him.”
Ivy battled herself, but couldn’t restrain her raging need to know. “Did Griff, uh, happen to mention what sort of shifter Hugh is, by any chance?”
“No.” Even with her back turned, Ivy could feel Hope’s narrowed eyes boring into her neck. “Why are you so interested?”
Ivy’s face burned. “Uh, no reason.”
“Ivy…” The pitch of Hope’s voice rose in a delighted, disbelieving trill. “Do you liiiiiiiiike him?”
“No!” Ivy whirled, fists clenching in handfuls of underwear. “Of course not.”
“You do! You do like him! You never like anyone!” Hope’s eyes widened. “Is he your mate?”
Ivy opened her mouth to deny it… but her wyvern rose up, choking the words in her throat.
He was her mate. She couldn’t claim otherwise. Not even to herself.
Hope let out a strangled shriek of excitement. “He is! Oh my God, Ivy! Why didn’t you tell me str
aight away? Can he touch you?”
Ivy rubbed absently at her wrist, still feeling the lightning-jolt of those strong fingers closing over her bare skin. “Yeah. He can.”
“Ha!” Hope made finger-guns at her. “See? I was right all along. I knew that your true mate wouldn’t be affected by your venom.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Ivy tossed a pair of underpants at her sister’s smirking face. “You also thought an evil basilisk shifter crime boss might be my one true mate, so don’t gloat too much.”
“But this is perfect!” Hope plucked the underwear from her head, throwing it back into the half-open dresser. “If Hugh is your mate, then Alpha Team will definitely protect us from Gaze. And I bet Fire Commander Ash will be able to sort everything out with the police too. We don’t have to run!”
“Yes, we do.” Ivy retrieved the pants, stuffing them into the suitcase. “Because they’ll be selling snowcones in Hell before I ask him for help. You heard him, Hope. He never wants to see me again.”
Hope’s beaming smile flickered uncertainly. “He can’t really have meant that. He has to be a shifter of some kind if he’s on Alpha Team, so he must know that he’s your true mate.”
“Yeah, well. He clearly doesn’t want to be.”
Hope chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Maybe…maybe he was just in shock. Or—I know! Maybe he was being all snarly because of his overpowering attraction to you. Maybe he had to be rude so that he didn’t sweep you up and carry you off to claim you there and then!”
Ivy gave her sister a level look. “Do you ever actually listen to the words coming out of your mouth?”
Hope ignored this, digging into the side pocket of her wheelchair. “Call him. You have to.“
Ivy groaned. “Hope. Are you seriously suggesting that I dial emergency in order to make a booty call?”
“No,” Hope said, rolling her eyes. She pulled out her cellphone and waved it in Ivy’s direction. “I’m suggesting that you call him at home. Or even better, turn up in person. I have his number and address right here.”
Ivy stared at her sister. “Why on earth do you have Hugh Argent’s home number and address?”
“Griff gave it to me,” Hope said absently, scrolling through her contact list. “In case we ever had an emergency.”
Ivy’s forehead furrowed. “What do you mean, an emergency?”
“You know, with your…” Hope made a vague hand-gesture that encompassed Ivy’s entire body. “With your venom.”
Ivy shook her head, still baffled. “No paramedic would be able to help if I accidentally touched you.”
“Hugh’s not just a paramedic. He’s got healing powers. Really strong powers. Griff made me promise not to tell anyone, but he said Hugh can heal just about anything.”
Ivy froze.
The tingle of his bare skin against hers, the lightning-strike impact of his touch… maybe it wasn’t because he was her true mate. Had he been counteracting her venom?
And if he was powerful enough to do that…
“Hope.” Ivy crouched down so that they were eye-to-eye, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Tell me exactly what Griff told you about Hugh.”
Chapter 6
Hugh stared into his tea, and contemplated the void of the rest of his life.
Normally, it was a relief to retreat to his house and shut out the rest of the world on his days off. Now, however, the silence of his soundproofed study seemed oppressive. No matter how he tried to relax with his favorite lapsang souchong and a good mystery novel, his nerves were wound tight. Not even the purring cats on his lap were helping.
He kept finding himself looking up, listening for…something.
Something that wasn’t there.
Something missing.
If only we knew what that could be, his unicorn said snippily. Truly, a mystery for the ages.
Anyone who thought that unicorns were all sweetness and light had never lived with one in their head. His beast could be a sarcastic sod when its horn was out of joint.
With a growl of frustration, Hugh pushed aside his stone-cold tea. Much to the displeasure of his cats, he rose. Even though he should have been exhausted after his twenty-four-hour work shift the day before, a strange, restless energy filled him.
He raked his hands through his hair, casting around for something to do. He’d already washed up the single plate from his breakfast. Every book on his oak shelves was perfectly sorted into its proper place. Even the oriental rug only had a few cat hairs clinging to it.
Everything in his entire house was arranged exactly to his liking. He’d never invited anyone—not even his fellow firefighters—to enter his home. It was the one place where he could escape the constant, incessant onslaught of other people’s lusts and desires and emotions. It was his sanctuary.
Now, it felt empty.
Work, he decided. That was what he needed. A purpose. He needed to get out there and do what he was made to do.
Yes, his unicorn agreed. So go to her.
“Oh, shut up,” Hugh muttered under his breath as he hunted for his shoes.
He wasn’t on call at the moment, but he was a familiar enough sight at the local hospital. A white coat and a confident manner would mean he wouldn’t be challenged.
He’d ghost through the critical care wards, touching a shoulder here, pretending to take a pulse there. And there would be five or ten or two dozen people who’d start to feel much better, and never know the true reason why.
And you will still feel the same, his unicorn murmured.
“That doesn’t matter,” Hugh said out loud to his animal, as he looped his hospital pass over his neck. “I don’t have to be happy to help people.”
Which was just as well, given that he didn’t expect to ever see his mate again.
Hugh opened his front door, and found himself staring down into a pair of blazing emerald eyes.
“Can you heal my sister?” Ivy demanded.
Hugh had treated patients in many difficult circumstances. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d had to perform CPR while things literally exploded around him. On one occasion, he’d even been on fire himself. And of course, there had been the memorable time he’d struggled to heal a gaping chest wound while floating on a magical iceberg above the biggest shark in the entire sea.
None of those occasions compared to now. It took all of Hugh’s control to keep his eyes on his patient, when all he wanted to do was gaze at the astonishing sight of Ivy in his house.
Even without looking at her, he could track her every movement as she prowled around his study, wary as a stray cat. The heat of her body warmed the whole room like a log fire on Christmas Day. Her fresh, clean scent was a mix of wild mint and storm air, with an underlying womanly fragrance that had his unicorn pawing the ground.
Focus. Hugh shut his eyes, wishing that he could close his nose as well to that intoxicating scent. He concentrated on his sixth sense instead; the subtle feel of energies running through Hope’s body.
Her eyebrows twitched under his palm. “That tickles!”
“Sorry.” Hugh moved his hand from her forehead to the nape of her neck. “Just a few moments more.”
He frowned as he once again encountered the strange darkness that he’d briefly sensed before. To his senses, the energy running through Hope’s nerves seemed to flicker and spark, like faulty wiring. It reminded him a bit of the acid-pitted cables in the elevator shaft. It was like her nervous system was being eaten away by some malign substance.
It wasn’t an injury, or a disease. It wasn’t congenital, either—her body knew that something was wrong, and was trying to fight it.
“You don’t have motor neuron disease,” he said, opening his eyes and drawing his hand back again. “In fact, if I was making a diagnosis, I’d say you’ve been poisoned.”
Hope bit her lip, glancing at her sister as if seeking permission. Ivy jerked her chin down once in a slight nod.
“I was,” Hope said,
turning back to him. “By our mom. In the womb.”
Hugh’s eyebrows rose. Shifter pregnancies were complicated at the best of times. A mother who was a wyvern shifter, her very blood venomous…that had to make it difficult to carry a pregnancy to term. In fact, he would have placed money on it being impossible for a wyvern shifter to give birth to a normal human.
But there was Hope, right before his eyes.
“Chronic poisoning.” Suddenly, her condition made a lot more sense. “How the hell did you survive gestation?”
“Our mother can control her venom,” Ivy said. She tucked her gloved hands under her armpits, shoulders hunching. “Most wyverns can.”
“Once Mom found out she was pregnant, she tamped down her toxicity as much as she could,” Hope said. “She didn’t shift once, the whole time, even though it made her weak and sick. She wanted to give me a chance to survive if I turned out not to be a wyvern shifter.”
“And she wanted to avoid another me,” Ivy said in a low voice. “Just in case it turned out Hope was a wyvern shifter.”
The quiet pain in her tone seared him more than the loudest scream of agony. He clenched his hands at his sides, forcing down the urge to touch her. To hold her and soothe away all her hurts…
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He was having to concentrate so hard on holding himself in check, the words came out harsher than he’d intended.
Ivy didn’t flinch, but her shoulders stiffened. “Forget it. It’s none of your business.”
“If it’s part of your family medical history, then it is my business,” he countered. “If I’m to have a chance of healing your sister, then I need to know everything.”
Actually, he was pretty sure he already knew as much as he needed…at least when it came to Hope. Ivy was another matter, though. He couldn’t ignore that momentary flash of pain. He had to know what had caused it.
Even if he couldn’t do anything about it.
Ivy raised her chin, glaring at him icily. “Our mother shifted a lot when she was pregnant with me. She thought that might be why I’m venomous all the time, even in human form. Why I’m broken.”