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“Angus’s healer called Angus to tell him he’d been summoned to our hotel room,” Charles said. “Just after I felt your need.”
A
“Yes, well.” A
“I’d like it if you’d come here, too.” She’d like it a lot. “Maybe Angus-but no one else. Tom’s been hurt pretty badly.”
“Badly enough the rest of his pack needs to stay away,” said Charles coolly. Her sense of him had faded with his urgency, and she wasn’t sure she should trust that coolness. The drop from violence to calm had been too fast.
“Right,” she answered, though it hadn’t been a real question. “Moira and I got him back here-but I didn’t realize how badly he was bleeding. There’s probably a blood trail-”
“No,” said Moira firmly, though she was as white as the sheet she was sitting on-as white as it was because they were both covered in blood. “I took care of the blood.”
A
“You heard that?”
“I did.”
“So we’re safe in the room. Tom’s not mortally wounded-I don’t think…” The room abruptly smelled different. “He’s changing.”
“Best thing for him to do, if he can,” said Charles. “You stay back from him. Moira should keep him calm enough that he’s safe to be around. I’m coming-and I’ll call Angus and tell him that if he values his second, he’ll call off the rest of the pack. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, and you can give me the whole story then.” Her phone stopped making noise, so she decided that he must have ended the call.
“Have you been around Tom when he changes before?” A
“Yes,” said the witch.
“Good.” She let herself sink into the chair opposite the bed. “Just sit still. It’ll take a while longer this time-and changing when you hurt really sucks. He’ll be vile-tempered when he comes out of it. Maybe not really himself, not for a while. Give him a little time before you touch him. He’ll probably let you know when he can bear it.”
“They almost killed us,” Moira said. “If I could have seen them-”
“That blast of sunlight was impressive,” A
“Why would vampires attack us?” asked Moira. “Oh, I know they aren’t friendly-but they are practical. Attacking Charles’s mate is anything but practical.”
“Someone paid them, I expect,” A
“You think one of the werewolves is behind this?”
“I don’t know.” But she was afraid she did.
Tom completed his change. His breath came out in harsh, groaning pants. His fur was chocolate brown except where a silvery scar wound around his muzzle-and he was nearly as big as Charles in wolf shape. Charles was a very big wolf.
Moira reached out and touched his neck, and the wolf lunged, sending A
Someone knocked on the door, and it wasn’t Charles.
SIX
CHARLES forced himself to walk. There was no hurry. Tom would have been a problem under other circumstances. But his mate was there to keep him under control. And even mad from pain and weakness, Tom wouldn’t hurt an Omega.
He was off balance: A
There were very few people he’d cared for enough to panic over-and most of them were long dead and forever beyond need of his aid. His father and his brother Samuel he could usually trust to take care of themselves.
A
She’d said she was fine, and she meant it. He’d heard the stress of survival in her voice, but she was safe for now. And Tom would need calm to deal with his wounds, not some adrenaline-jacked wolf who wasn’t one of his pack. But even at a slow, steady pace, Brother Wolf fought against his control, growing more upset, not less.
And the human half wasn’t far behind. Someone had tried to hurt his A
A young man walking in the other direction jerked his head to stare at Charles-and quickly dropped his gaze when his eyes met Charles’s. Only then did Charles realize he was growling softly.
He stopped, sucked in a deep breath-and hesitated as the air he’d taken told him something… unusual. Something missing. Something like the usual concentration of city smells.
He stood on a wide swath of pavement that was as clean as it had been the day it was poured. No visible garbage wasn’t really strange, not in Seattle, where the rain washed the sidewalks on a regular basis. But no garbage, no scent, no anything, that was odd. Odd enough to allow him to hold off the frantic need to find A
Tom’s witch had dealt with the blood trail, she’d said, and he was willing to bet that he was looking at the results: a wobbling stretch of walk two shades whiter than the cement around it. It was still a trail for anyone who wanted to follow it-though he supposed a blind woman couldn’t know that. And it was a lot better than the blood that would have sent a slew of human police to the hotel.
He could follow it to the hotel-or he could go hunting. He stood very still and consulted Brother Wolf. Then they turned away from the hotel.
Yes, said Brother Wolf, at one with his human half.
Blood and flesh would be welcome. A
So there was time to feed. To rid them both, him and Brother Wolf, of the anger so they could regain their balance.
It wasn’t long, only a few blocks, until the u
It was full dark, though the hour wasn’t late-a little after six, he thought. It had been twenty minutes since A
He stepped back into the clean space and looked around. A blackened bit of cloth, wet and dirty, a plastic bag that spilled two pairs of women’s shoes with another shoe, hot pink and scorched, several feet away. A little casting about on the edges of the witch’s spells-and he smelled vampire.
Vampires in Seattle attacking wolves. He considered it-and clenched his fists at the thought of his A
The cloth smelled of nothing. The lone pink shoe hadn’t been so thoroughly caught in the witch’s cleaning spell. When lifted to his nose, it smelled faintly of burning flesh and vampire.