Читать книгу Wolf Whisperer - Karen Whiddon - Страница 9

As the afternoon drifted into evening, Kelly remained in her chair, watching him. She found herself tracing the lines of his rugged face with her gaze, pondering the strength of his profile and the breadth of his shoulders.

He’d been married to her cousin Maggie. Though Maggie was dead, that made him family. She’d sworn the oath with him, bound him to her, and he was hers now.

This feeling—it had to be desire. She’d read about it, heard songs about it, but until now, she hadn’t been touched by it. It felt like a small flame building inside her; she felt a longing to touch him, to press her lips to his bronze skin, for an unspeakable, unthinkable more.

Shaking herself back to her senses, she pushed to her feet. Perhaps her lonely exile was finally getting to her. She’d never met a man who affected her the way this one did. Of course, living out here in the wilds of Wyoming, she met few men, other than her neighboring ranchers. And they certainly didn’t make her want what she couldn’t have.

She reminded herself that he’d mentioned trading her sister for his children. Though she doubted he actually had her sister, he might know where she’d been taken. His kids were a different story.

Even if he brought Bonnie back, Kelly couldn’t guarantee the return of his twins. While she hadn’t heard anything about his kids being taken, it sort of made sense. Any child born of a Tearlach must be protected, and with their mother dead, her mate should have died also. That was the way of things. Once Maggie had died, the children had to be protected. Their gifts were too highly valued, too much of a temptation for someone merely after the prize a Tearlach’s gift could bring.

If they’d been allowed to remain with Mac, their lives would have been in danger from the moment they hit puberty.

That night, she made a pallet on the floor and slept, drawing her dogs around her like a shield. The kennel had a functioning alarm, which, though not monitored, would at least alert her to any intrusion. If the attackers came back, at least she’d have some kind of warning.

But the night passed uneventfully, and she woke in the morning feeling rested and completely healed. The man—Mac—still slept, though his color had improved and she judged that he was very close to being one hundred percent improved.

While waiting, she purified the area, drawing the ritual from instinct and memories. She set up an altar, a small replica of the one she’d had in her home, using some candles she’d dug out of a drawer and a half-burnt stick of incense.

Then, she bowed her head and offered up a prayer, though to what god, she couldn’t say. In the end, she supposed it didn’t matter to who or what she prayed. She—and her family, as well as this man who was now bound to her—would need all the help they could get.

First, she had to take care of her dogs. In the closest town, she had one person she trusted. Ben was human, without any knowledge of shifters or vampires or, most important, Tearlachs. He’d come forward two years ago, wanting to volunteer for the dog rescue group she’d founded. He often helped her save a doomed dog, both fostering and helping to transport them, often from across the country. He’d even stayed with Kelly’s personal dogs once or twice when she’d felt the urge to travel. She often called him her big brother, only half-jokingly. She knew if she ever really needed him, he’d have her back, just like a real brother.

Ben answered on the third ring. “Kelly! It’s been a while, way too long. What’s up?”

She could picture him, the eternal hippy with his too-long gray hair pulled back in a thick braid and his uncombed beard going in every direction. Ben was retired career military and she supposed his wild appearance was his way of rebelling at years of being told what to wear and do. He was also a former sniper and a crack shot.

“I need your help.” Briefly, without giving too many details, she outlined the situation. Years ago, she’d hinted vaguely to Ben that she’d done a stint of undercover work, highly classified, and she called on this cover story now.

“Call the police,” Ben advised. “See if they can send a few state troopers out. Sounds like you need some firepower.”

Kelly didn’t even bother to respond. She just let Ben think about what he’d just said.

“You can’t involve the authorities, can you?” Ben finally asked. “That’s why you called me.”

“Exactly.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Watch my dogs. I know this is asking a lot—”

“Nah. It’s okay. You know I love your pups. How many are you up to these days?”

“Seven house dogs. Plus more in the kennel. If it’s okay with you, I’ll bring my seven out to your place. The others will need transporting to a temporary foster home.”

“In other words, me.” Ben’s dry tone contained a hint of amusement.

“I couldn’t ask you to take them. My seven are enough.”

“How about I pop out there daily and feed them? Would that work?”

Kelly thought for a moment, then reluctantly answered. “No. Too dangerous.”

“For me? I thought it was you they’re after.”

He had a point. “True, but I can’t say for sure they won’t be back. I don’t want you anywhere in the vicinity if they do. They’re more deadly than I can say.”

Ben snorted, but he gave in. “Fine. I’ll take your word for it. Let me make a few phone calls about the kennel dogs and I’ll let you know. When do you want to bring yours over?”

“The sooner the better. Today? Tomorrow?”

He whistled. “You are in a hurry, aren’t you?”

His tone made her want to smile. Immediately, she quashed it. “I’ve got to get on the road.”

“Hunting or fleeing?”

This time Kelly had to fight to keep from laughing. “What do you think?”

“I think I wouldn’t want to be whoever you’re after when you catch up to them. You sure you don’t want me to round up my buddies? We could help you out.”

Ben and his friends referred to themselves as the Redneck Posse. Kelly suspected they’d all once been part of the same Special Ops unit, but she didn’t know for sure. She’d never asked and Ben had never volunteered the information.

“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.” She could imagine his reaction if she told him her attackers had been vampires and shape-shifters. “I need you here more.”

“All right, then. Just thought I’d offer.” Rather than disappointed, Ben actually sounded a bit relieved.

“And I do appreciate that,” she said.

“How long should I expect you to be gone?” Ben asked, probably more out of curiosity than anything else. He lived alone, with one dog and an ancient parrot.

“As long as it takes,” Kelly answered. “I have no idea. That’s the best I can do.”

“See you tomorrow, then.”

Hanging up the phone, she turned again to study Mac. One of her rescue dogs, a pit bull mix named Brandi, who’d only recently been given house privileges, had gone to sit by the man’s side. The large animal’s posture was alert and watchful, as if she was guarding one of her pack mates or her best friend.

This stunned Kelly. Brandi generally avoided people. Kelly had been working with the former dog-fighting casualty for three months now and the animal barely allowed her to touch her coat. Now the burly dog sat by the side of the ill man as though compassion was her middle name.

Interesting. If she had time, she’d study this in more detail. Brandi’s behavior could mean a breakthrough for other dogs that had suffered at the hands of dog-fighters.

But with time running short, Kelly could focus only on Mac, doing what she could to ease his suffering while he rid his system of the poison. For the next several hours, she sat vigilant by his side along with the dog, keeping him clean and trying to get the occasional bit of liquid into his parched mouth, wiping it up as it ran down his chin.

It shouldn’t be much longer now. The wound continued to heal at an amazing rate. As the fever shook his muscular body and he thrashed about in the covers, Brandi would whimper. When she laid her square-shaped head on Mac, the man quieted instantly. Though the smell of poison tainted the air, the animal didn’t seem to notice or care.

Beside Mac on the table, his cell phone vibrated. Snatching it up before it could disturb him, Kelly debated answering. Someone as beautiful as this one must have a significant other, not to mention family and friends. Most likely they were worried that he wasn’t returning their calls.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Who is this?” A masculine voice, full of suspicion.

“My name is Kelly McKenzie. I—”

“The Tearlach?” He sounded skeptical, which was good.

“You people keep calling me this,” Kelly snarled, only half acting as she forced rage into her voice, building up so she could sound convincing as she spoke the first lie. “I don’t even know what the word means.”

“Right. Whatever. Look, this is Donald, of the Society of Protectors. Put Mac Lamonda on. I need to talk to him.”

Glancing at the man still unconscious on her futon, Kelly sucked in her breath and prepared to tell the second lie. “He’s gone,” she said. “He left.”

Then, before Donald had a chance to question her, she closed the phone, hanging up on him. Immediately, she turned the cell off, in case he called again.

There. That was done. The subterfuge necessary to protect her sister had begun. Regardless of which scenario was true, them believing he was gone couldn’t be anything but good. If Mac Lamonda was working with the Protectors to capture her, with him gone, they’d waste precious time trying to contact him before they’d send others. By then, she’d have vanished. If he was working alone and, as a renegade, had captured Bonnie in order to trade her for his children, he’d have no backup.

Win-win. Though she wouldn’t consider it as such until Bonnie was free and safe.

With a sigh, she dropped the cell to the ground and stomped on it hard, crushing it beneath the heel of her shoe until it no longer resembled anything phonelike. Then she picked up the pieces and carried them to the trash bin.

Turning, she began heating up a frozen dinner in the small microwave. Luckily, she kept a well-stocked freezer in the basement of her home and the fire hadn’t damaged much down there, except for leaving an abundance of sooty smoke and ash. She had no electricity, but living on a remote ranch, all she’d had to do was fire up the generator.

Soon, the soothing scent of macaroni and cheese filled the room.

Turning, she found Mac sitting up in bed, watching her. A moment of surprise stunned her—his eyes were so unbelievably blue, after all—and then she felt a pang of recognition so immediate, so deep, she couldn’t catch her breath.

Recognition? That made no sense. She’d never met this man before, anywhere. If she had, she knew she’d never have forgotten.

Mac’s ever-present watchdog Brandi raised her head, eyeing Kelly with a watchful gaze that looked eerily similar to the man’s. To her surprise, despite the tantalizing aroma of food, the animal didn’t move from her position at the edge of his bed.

“Hey.” Mac gave her a weak smile. His raspy voice made him sound as if he’d just woken from a long, luxurious nap instead of a near-death fever. She found it sexy as hell. Unfortunately.

“Hey, yourself,” she said briskly. “I was just making some supper. Are you hungry?”

Searching her face, he frowned. “I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway.” Glancing at the nightstand where his phone had been, his frown deepened. “Were you talking on my cell phone a minute ago?”

Ah, the moment of truth, time to tell him she’d lied to his employers as to his whereabouts, even insinuating that he may have died. Though reluctant to begin, Kelly knew it was necessary. She didn’t have a choice. That didn’t mean she’d enjoy it. “Yes,” she answered. “I was.”

He nodded, as if her intrusion into his personal business was perfectly normal. “I see. Who were you talking to?”

Changing the subject, Kelly asked a question instead of answering. “Do you realize what happened? You were shot with a silver bullet. You almost died. But you didn’t.”

Inane chatter, but sometimes a simple pointing out of the facts was necessary before hitting him with the big one.

Mac’s frown deepened. She saw the exact moment he remembered. Everything.

“Silver bullets. Hell hounds.” For a moment he glanced down at his leg, wincing. “I remember. You’re right—I shouldn’t even be alive. How’d I get in here?”

“I helped you. Mostly, you walked.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded. “You lived because you’re under my protection. You won’t die. We are one.”

Gaze locked on hers, he swallowed hard. “So it is true. You really can do this? When you said we were one, that’s what you meant?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “You were married to my cousin. Didn’t Maggie ever discuss this with you?”

“No. She thought all of this was a big joke.”

Now he’d succeeded in shocking her. “Being a Tearlach was amusing to her?”

“You’d have to understand her sense of humor. But yes, she thought the rest of her family took it all too seriously.”

Careful now, she tried to figure out how to phrase her next question. “Besides what you learned in the Protector’s file, how much do you actually know about us?”

“How much did Maggie tell me, you mean?”

She nodded.

“Very little.” He sounded bitter. “I didn’t even know about the protection thing until I read the file. We were together three years and she never said those words to me.”

Careful not to show her shock, Kelly nodded. Luckily, Mac didn’t understand enough to realize the ramifications of this. She did. Maggie had not considered Mac, her husband and the man whose children she’d borne, her true mate.

Which meant there might have been another. Enough to make her wonder if Mac indeed was the children’s real father.

She said none of this, aware he certainly wouldn’t appreciate it. Yet the only other option was that Maggie had wanted to ensure that if anything happened to her, their children would still have a father.

“Tell me what you know,” she urged.

“Are you immortal?” he asked, his expression serious.

“No. And neither are you, now that you’re under my protection.” She avoided using the more honest phrase bound to me. “Tearlachs eventually do die, of course, usually of old age, but nothing else can kill us. Except fire. That never changes.”

Eyes narrowed, he swore. “So the only advantage over being a regular shifter is that you can withstand silver bullets.”

At a loss for words, because there was more, so much more than that, she swallowed. “I—”

“Damn. I don’t see what the big deal is. No wonder Maggie joked about it. Tearlachs aren’t really all that different than regular shifters. So you can withstand a silver-bullet wound. So what?”

“You’d be dead if it weren’t for that,” she pointed out. “And you forgot to mention our ability to confer this gift on another person.”

“True, and thanks for that. But I still don’t understand why everyone is so eager to form an alliance with the Tearlachs.”

“The ability to withstand a silver bullet could come in handy in the event of a multispecies war.”

To his credit, he caught on immediately. “In other words, if the humans came against us like they did back in the Middle Ages.”

“Exactly.”

He didn’t appear convinced. “How likely is that? It’s—”

“Far-fetched.” She dropped into the chair at the side of the futon, aware she had to tread carefully. Though she’d never had to have this conversation with someone, she’d heard stories of others who had. What she bestowed was a gift, a treasure beyond price. Yet the recipients didn’t always view it that way.

“Why me?” he asked, as she’d known he would.

Keeping her expression neutral, she lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Because you happened to be there when I was attacked. I didn’t want to have your death on my hands.”

“I see.” His bemused look told her he didn’t. “If this is such a good thing, then why didn’t my wife …”

She felt a knife twist in her heart. “I don’t know,” she answered. She wanted to ask him if Maggie had loved him, but wasn’t sure she wanted to know. It was too personal and, ultimately, none of her business.

Odd. Completely and utterly strange. She’d never been one to shirk things and had always believed in straight-on honesty right from the start, but she didn’t think she could handle any more of this.

Trying to think, she looked away. Was she required to inform him how deep the bond she made between them went? Or would it be better to let him find out for himself?

Choosing the latter, she rubbed her hands together.

“Now,” she said briskly. “You’ve asked your questions. I want to ask a few of my own.”

“Go ahead.”

Her turn. Kelly stared at the man, wondering what questions she should ask to get the most knowledge in such a short span of time. She’d chosen him, like it or not, by an impulsive act of mercy. Now, she needed to find out what sort of man she’d picked.

She’d always trusted her dogs’ judgment of people. They all loved Ben, which was part of the reason she trusted him.

Brandi, the golden-eyed pit bull with the battered ear, never strayed from Mac’s side. She adored him. Kelly suspected that it might be a case of one damaged individual drawn to another, as if the dog recognized a kindred spirit.

Maybe that rationale would explain why she’d given something so sacred to a complete stranger. Sometimes, she felt like one with the damaged dogs. Something she’d never admitted, not even to herself, until now.

Putting such thoughts from her head, she forced herself to focus on what she needed to know.

“Have you remarried?” Though he didn’t wear a ring, she needed to get this out in the open.

One brow went up. “Maggie’s only been gone eighteen months.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No. What about you?”

“This isn’t about me,” she said, her tone impersonal. “I don’t have the benefit of a folder with all your personal info inside like you did.”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “Ask away.”

She wished she was better at this or, at the very least, had some sort of checklist to operate off of. Something along the lines of “ten things to ask before you bind yourself to someone.” Only, in her case, it would be too late.

The deed was done. Once given, her protection could not be taken back.

Therefore, she persisted. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No. I was an only child. And, before you ask, my mother is still alive. She’s a shifter. I never knew my human father.”

Gently, she asked the rest of it. “You and Maggie had two children, if I remember right. A boy and a girl?”

He glared at her. “Twins. Caleb and Isobel. They’re three. I haven’t seen them since their mother died.”

She noticed he held himself stiffly, as though by moving less he could make himself invisible, invulnerable or both. Though she’d never had children, she could definitely relate. She missed her family. She understood very well how the pain of loss never went away, just diminished slightly over time.

She didn’t show her pity, aware she wouldn’t want his whenever she spoke of the loss of her own family and the death of her father. She already knew he felt as if he’d laid his soul bare in front of her, a distinctly uncomfortable feeling. Compounded by the fact that they were virtual strangers … She bit her lip and forced herself to look at him.

Now he looked away. A moment passed, a bit of silence broken only by the jagged sound of his breathing. When his gaze finally returned to meet hers, she saw anger lurking in the depths of his blue eyes. A second later, it was gone, quickly banished.

She sighed, well aware of how sorrow could eat you up from the inside out. “It’s not easy, is it?”

“No. Even after all this time …” As he trailed off, the rawness of his repressed emotion lurked in his voice. Of course, the anger that blazed in his eyes told her what was coming next.

“I want my children back.” Leaning forward, his gaze captured and held hers. “Honest to hounds, if you have an ounce of compassion, you’ll help me.”

She said nothing, unwilling to make promises she couldn’t keep.

Finally, he nodded, his jaw set. “Why are you doing this? What’s your reasoning?”

“I want my sister back. So we do have something in common.”

“Then why won’t you work with me?” His rough voice spoke of his emotion. “If I can get your sister for you, will you make sure I find my children?”

Though she knew she should lie, she couldn’t force the words from her suddenly closed-up throat. When she finally did, she only repeated the question that he’d never answered. “Do you have my sister?”

Slowly, he shook his head, his bereft expression letting her know it pained him to do so. “No. Nor do I know where she is. I can tell you that the Protectors aren’t the ones who took her. I was only bluffing earlier, because I’d hoped you could lead me to my kids.”

Since he’d given her a truth, she could only respond in kind. “I don’t know where your children are, either. I wasn’t even aware that they’d been removed from your custody.”

“Stolen,” he snarled. “Don’t make it sound so civilized. I was at the funeral home, planning for her funeral, for Christ’s sake. Someone from Maggie’s family—your family—swooped in and grabbed them. They couldn’t even attend their own mother’s funeral. Maggie’s family had disowned her, so I had to bury her alone.”

The words hung in the air between them. Despite herself, Kelly’s eyes filled with tears.

“You’re crying?” he said, his tone filled with an odd combination of wonder and anger. “Why?”

Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, she sighed. Then, she gave in to temptation and reached out and touched his jaw, feeling the stubble like sandpaper against her fingertips. After the first reflex, a nearly imperceptible jerk, he froze.

Feeling completely stupid, she took her hand away. “Sorry.”

“Yeah.” He stood, placing one leg in front of the other as if testing his own strength. After a moment, he began to walk, slowly at first, increasing his stride as he gathered confidence. “Can we stop with the fifty questions?” he asked.

“For now. But I’m sure there’s more I’ll need to know later. I’m trying to get to know you,” she said.

“Again, why?”

Once more, she offered the truth. “I’m hoping to learn something that will explain to me why I offered you my protection.”

He stared. “You speak as if giving your protection is an unusual thing. Is it that rare?”

“Yes. Extremely. We can only do that once in our lives.”

Again his face closed in, letting her know he was thinking of Maggie, the wife who had chosen not to give him the precious gift, who had never truly been his mate.

“Why does it matter?” he finally asked, the devil-may-care smile at odds with the bleakness in his gaze.

“Believe me, it does.” And that was all she’d say on this. For now.