Wolf Fever

Carol couldn’t believe it. But then again, she’d felt deep in her bones that Doc’s shifting into the wolf and not being able to shift back was only the beginning of the nightmare.



Lelandi rubbed her arms as she followed them into the great room. “You can go and help our men. I’ve got a guard detail already.”



“No,” Jake and Ryan said at the same time. “They’re all betas,” Jake added. “Sam will be here as soon as he can.”



“I could run Carol over to the hospital until Sam relieves you, Jake,” Ryan offered, figuring this time they wouldn’t have any trouble.



“No,” Lelandi said. “What if North and his men try to ambush you?”



“I need to take care of the men who’ve been injured,” Carol said, her voice resolute. “It’ll take Sam an hour to pick up Silva and get here.”



“Ryan?” Jake asked.



On the one hand, Ryan wanted more protection for Carol. On the other, he knew she needed to get to the men and minister to them. He pulled out a gun.



“I can manage. Besides, North and his men are probably still running through the woods.”



Jake considered the gun. “Silver bullets?”



“No. Regular. It’ll slow them down if they try to take Carol hostage again. It’s unlikely they’ll be out here watching what we are doing after the last fiasco—fishing for a wolf with a net. Are you all right with this, Carol?”



She was already headed for the door. He swore she would have been the first one on the scene to take care of the wounded on a battlefield, no matter what the threat to her own safety, and he couldn’t help admiring her for the quality.



He strode after her, glancing over his shoulder at Jake. “We’ll let you know if we encounter any trouble or, if not, when we reach the hospital.”



Jake gave him a stiff nod.



“Be careful,” Lelandi said to Carol.



“You take care of yourself,” Carol said, her look worried. Then she headed out of doors.



As soon as Ryan and Carol were secure in the truck, he tore off for town. “Had any more visions? Anything about your shifting or the men and the net? The men who were shot?”



She leaned against the seat and ran her hand over his plaid. “No. If I’d had a vision, I might have been able to stop the shift.”



“I know you don’t believe it now, but the sooner you embrace our ways, the easier it will be for you to adjust.”



“Thanks for having faith in my other abilities anyway.”



“If you’d danced any longer with me at the gathering the way that you’d done, I would have believed in anything.”



She chuckled and then grew serious. “Believing in my sixth sense scares you.”



He cast a wry smile at her. He didn’t scare easily, but yeah, knowing a person could have glimpses of future trouble was a bit unnerving. Not only that, but the fact that she could touch an object and gain insight about it seemed too surreal to be true.



She let out her breath. “I thought you ought to know that your sister called me back and talked to me further about you.”



His neck muscles tensed. God only knew what Rosalind had told Carol. That he’d kept a portfolio of pictures of her? That he wanted her to be his mate even before he realized that was the issue? His sister had already stirred up enough trouble.



“She said you used a fake psychic once who got you into real hot water over a case of slander. So I understand how you would feel that we’re all frauds.”



“I didn’t think you were a fraud, exactly.”



“Right. I just make up stuff because I’m such a great storyteller.”



He rubbed his temple, getting himself deeper into this. “I had to know that you were for real, Carol. From the time we met, I’ve tried to debunk your ‘visions,’ at least in my own mind. It didn’t work. Either you had hearing like Silva, which you couldn’t have had as a human, or you just happened to be at all the wrong places at the right time. And that was too much of a coincidence. Unless you were seeking to learn the truth about the murder.”



“And you suspected I might be?”



“No. You’re a healer. First and foremost. If you investigate anything, it’s related to helping others to heal. Murder cases are not your forte.”



“Hmm.” She unsnapped her seatbelt to slide across the bench seat, snapped on the belt in the middle of the seat, and snuggled up next to him.



He wrapped his arm around her and held her close as he steered the truck with one hand. “About the night you saw some of our kind shape-shifting, I agree with you. You couldn’t have witnessed such a thing in the dark. Not without our wolf’s vision.”



“But you’ve never sounded like you believed me. Well, maybe an inkling. Yet you continued to question me and offer other reasons why I thought I had visions.”



He shook his head. “I was grasping at straws, and all of them vanished before I could grab hold. No, I believe you’re the real deal. And I need your help.”



She looked up at him with a surprised expression. “My help?”



“In case I’m investigating a situation and you may be able to see something I can’t.”



“So, that’s what this is all about. You want me to be your mate so I can solve all your cases for you.”



Loving her sense of humor, he chuckled darkly. “Yeah, devious of me, isn’t it?”



She sighed. “I’ll help if I can. My visions aren’t always predictable. I can’t force…”



He looked down at her, his expression warning her he knew better.



“… always force them.”



“Only when you’re fighting the shift. And that was the other thing. You couldn’t fight the shift unless you were somehow special.”



“Special,” she murmured. “No one’s ever called me that. Crazy, yes. Well, not so much that word exactly, but Dr. Metzger inferred it.”



“Crazy, eh? You’re about the sanest person I know.” He gave her a warm squeeze. “For five months I’ve been thinking about you. Did Rosalind tell you that? That I’ve been fiercely distracted? She’s a gardener at heart, but she was doing some investigative work of her own, trying to discover what ailed me.”



“She said you have pictures of me. Were they good shots?”



“I figured she’d mention them. I took photos of many of Darien’s pack members.”



“Hmm-hmm, and I wasn’t under suspicion. Not really, according to Rosalind. So why the pictures? And why so many? Fess up, Ryan. You’ve always wanted me.” She rested her hand high on his thigh, the heat sizzling through his denims and arousing him instantly. “But now if you want me badly enough, you’ll have to deal with Darien.”



“I told you that if I’d wanted you, nothing would stand in my way.”



“Just a little psychic business.”



He sighed. “That wouldn’t have stopped me. See anything in regards to us being together?”



Chapter 23



CAROL LIGHTLY RUBBED RYAN’S THIGH UP AND down, nearly touching his package on the upsweep. He was ready to pull the truck over and take her for his own before they even reached the hospital, but it was too dangerous with North and his men still unaccounted for.



“Hmm,” she murmured in a sultry way, “I dreamt you came dressed in your plaid to rescue me on a white steed. It was the night North and his men took me hostage. You yanked off your plaid, wearing only your shirt and boots, and wrapped the fabric around me. Then you carried me off to the castle.”



Prophetic that she should dream of him in that way? Or some deep-down Freudian desire to be with him that cast her into a fantasy world where he was her knight? He’d dreamed of her, too, only she was wearing the silky translucent gown that he’d seen her in when she had stood gazing out the window at him.



“Castle? I was the laird, no doubt.” And he would have been, had his family kept the drafty old keep. But sometime or another, they’d lost it to taxes and moved to Prince Edward Island first, and then eventually to North Carolina where many Scots ended up. Werewolf or otherwise. Some of his family settled in Colorado, and there they’d stayed.



“And your clansmen were glad to see you’d finally found a lady to tame your wild ways,” Carol said, her hand still stroking his thigh with a light touch.



“Sowing my wild oats, you mean.” He winked at her.



“Do that often?”



He laughed. She chuckled. “But I’m worried about being a MacDonald. What if the McKinleys had fought the MacDonalds?”



“In the old days, who knows? Now, it doesn’t matter. You know what this means?”



“What?” Her hand paused on his thigh.



“We’re moving the engagement date up.”



She stroked his leg some more, and he gritted his teeth against the rising tide of need. “If we have time before Doc and the other men arrive…” he said.



She stilled her hand on his lap. “What about Darien?”



“He’ll understand. Believe me. Know anyplace private where we can… sort things out?” He didn’t want to tell her that he had already made Jake aware Carol was his, that Silva would be the next to know, or that Darien already asked if he’d take her as a mate.



Chuckling, she squeezed his thigh. “You get right down to business, don’t you?”



“You saw me rescue you and whisk you away from the villains to the safety of yon castle, so it seems you had a premonition. Since you can’t change fate, we seem destined for this. So, is there any place private where we can go?” he asked again.



Smiling, she shook her head.



“I thought you were an adventurous sort. But more than that, I’ll barely be able to move in the direction of the hospital if you keep manhandling me.”



She laughed. “An exam table? Stirrups?”



“No hands examination?” He grinned. “Now that’s an idea.”