“Your brain has been taxed to the limits of its endurance. On the way here, you stopped breathing. Then you had seizures and a slow bleed that came tenuously close to becoming an all-out hemorrhaging. Your brain is done. It can’t take anymore, or you’ll be done, too.”
“Melina,” he said softly. “I’ve known you for years. You’re an awesome doctor, and you want what’s best for your patients. I know you have to give it to me straight. So here’s where I have to do the same.”
She waited while he rested, gathered his thoughts. He was getting tired again.
“The thing is, being a Healer is who I am, just as being a doctor is who you are. I can’t separate that from myself any more than I could cut out my wolf. I discovered I could heal when I was just a child and a neighbor’s cat broke its leg. I picked it up and just . . . fixed it.”
“I didn’t know that.” She gave him a fond smile.
“I never told anyone about what I did. But from then on, I used it whenever I could. In my mind, there was no need for others to suffer if I had the power to stop it. You see? I have to give my soul to see others well. That’s what I know.”
“I understand.”
“I know you do. I just had to tell you that I’m not being reckless, or using my gift lightly. I know exactly what’s at stake, but when it comes to the lives of my Pack brothers and my mate, there’s no question I’ll risk everything to make sure they’re okay.”
“And if you die?”
“Then I die,” he said with a small smile. “Most creatures do, sooner or later.”
“You’re a rare man, Healer.” She stood and looked between him and Selene. “I hope you both realize how lucky you are.”
With that, she left them alone. Zan stared at the door she’d just gone through. “She’s lonely. I wish she could find a mate who completes her the way you complete me.”
Warmth shone in his mate’s eyes. “I wish she could, too. Did you know her deceased mate very well?”
He cocked his head. “You know, it’s funny you should say that. The team and I worked under Terry for five and a half years. But in all that time, I never felt I knew him as well or was as close to him as I’ve become with Nick in the months since he took over.”
“What about the rest of the team? They feel the same way?”
“I’m pretty sure they do. Especially Jax. He never cared for Terry that much.”
“That’s sort of strange.”
“Yeah. A part of me wonders whether Terry had anything to do with the ambush that killed half our team. Then I feel like a complete shit for even thinking ill of the dead.”
“It’s a legitimate concern. When someone holds himself aloof and then something bad happens, you find yourself questioning what you thought you know.” She suddenly got a strange look on her face.
“What is it?”
“That’s exactly how I feel about my uncle right now,” she said quietly. “He’s always held himself so aloof, up on his moral high ground that nobody else can possibly reach. And now I find myself questioning why he’s always been so against me finding my father.”
“Have you asked Nick lately about the past?”
“Yes. He said I wasn’t ready to accept the truth, and maybe he’s right. It scares me.”
“You don’t want to find out something you believed was really a lie.”
“Yes, same as with your team and this Terry.”
“Sometimes the truth isn’t meant to come to light,” he said. “I wonder at times if that’s not best all around.”
“I don’t agree, at least not where my uncle and my father are concerned. Despite our differences, I’m really worried about Nick. He’s depressed, Zan, and I mean that seriously. Something has to give, and one of them is going to tell me the truth if I have to beat it out of him!”
He smiled. “I don’t doubt you would.”
“Believe it.”
He did. Selene was fast reaching the end of her patience with both men.
For now, all Zan could do was be a comfort and source of support to his mate.
Nick was about to crawl out of his skin.
He was starting to feel like a fucking bat, and he had to get out of this big rock and into the sunshine before he went crazy. How the hell did the vampires stand living inside a mountain?
Walking the corridors and searching without success, he finally found a vampire who directed him to the nearest exit. One that had a pathway leading from it into the forest below the mountain.
When he arrived at the exit, he discovered a large vampire soldier guarding a heavy metal door, presumably to the outside. The vamp stood straighter, eyeing Nick suspiciously as he approached.
“I was told this way out leads to a good place to go for a run. I’m assuming that’s not a problem?” His light, friendly tone had no effect whatsoever on the vampire.
“You assume wrong. Prince Tarron doesn’t like anyone leaving the stronghold in daylight.”
“Well, I’m guessing he meant vampires, members of his coven who shouldn’t go out because they’ll get burned. I’m neither—I’m a wolf and I’m a visitor.”
“Same rules apply.” The soldier was as immovable as the rock they were standing on.
Shit. “Listen, man. My wolf needs to run or he goes a little nuts. If he goes nuts, there might be trouble when he gets mean. And then it would get back to the prince, and he’d demand to know why I wasn’t allowed the simple courtesy of—”
“Fine,” the soldier growled. “But if something happens to you, it’s your ass.”
“Thanks.”
The soldier muscled open the heavy door and let it swing wide. Fresh mountain air, tinged with just the right amount of cold, hit him in the face, and he sighed in appreciation. As he stepped through and made his way down the steep path, the sights and scents of the wooded area below had his wolf straining to be freed.
The woods met the path some one hundred yards down, and he found a good place to stash his clothes. Quickly, he stripped and let the change flow over him. Muscle stretched and bone popped, his body reshaping into his wolf—a form he didn’t get to enjoy nearly enough just for the sheer pleasure of it.
And there was so little enjoyment in his life.
His wolf darted into the forest, and he thought of Selene. She hadn’t spoken to him in the two days since Zan had begun his recovery. His daughter wanted him to open up and he’d claimed she wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to face that he was the one who wasn’t ready to open wounds best left closed.
Except those wounds were festering, and would be until they were dealt with once and for all. In the aftermath, he could very well lose his baby for good.
Heart heavy, he ran. His wolf gradually took the forefront of his mind, and it was a relief of sorts from the troubles that had been crowding his mind and giving him no peace. He reveled in the leaves and dirt under his paws, the fresh air. His wolf body, unencumbered by his human limitations, soared over rocks and fallen trees.
He’d been running for maybe half an hour when he slowed to a trot and heard . . . singing. Halting, he cocked his head, unsure at first. But yes, there it was. The sweetest female voice, softly singing a popular tune about love lost and found again. The voice was captivating, the melody like a bird’s trill among the branches. For a moment, he thought maybe he was hallucinating and it would turn out to be a bird after all.
But as he approached a break in the trees, the breath left him. If he weren’t in wolf form, his knees would’ve buckled and he might have uttered a quiet exclamation.
The woman was beautiful. The most stunning piece of living artwork he’d ever seen. She was of average height, about five feet, five inches tall, and a dark cloak hugged what he figured was a slim frame. Her face was exquisite, her skin pale and creamy, with high cheekbones and a thin nose. Her long-lashed eyes were huge, dominating her face, perfect pencil brows arched over them. He couldn’t tell their color from where he stood, but that hardly mattered.
Gorgeous, straight, shining chestnut hair tumbled around that striking face and to her waist in a silken fall. She was sitting on a rock by a babbling stream and thankfully wasn’t aware of him watching. He shouldn’t spy, but he wanted to observe this beautiful creature unimpeded for as long as he was able.
She kept singing. And he kept watching and listening, the sound reaching somewhere deep inside him to soothe the hurts that had been raw and bleeding for too long. He tried to catch her scent, but the breeze was blowing in a different direction.
Though he couldn’t be sure, he assumed she was one of Tarron’s coven. They were so far into the mountains, and there were no houses around these parts. If she was a vampire, how could she be out in the sun? He’d heard only ancient vampires, and now rogues, could do that.
The urge to reveal himself was strong. In fact, the pull became so irresistible that he took a few steps forward—but a loud voice shattered the tranquil atmosphere.
“Calla! Calla! Dammit, where are you?”
Tarron. That was the prince’s voice, and he sounded both annoyed and worried. The vampire he now knew was Calla snapped her head up, startled, looking around. Moving quickly, she slipped from her rock, uttered a curse—
And vanished.
Nick couldn’t understand the sudden despair that washed over him as he stared at the empty space where she’d been. He’d observed her for only a brief time, so his reaction didn’t make sense.
In the next instant, Tarron appeared close to the spot where the mysterious Calla had been. Muttering, he looked around and shoved a hand through his hair. Nick kept his cover for some reason, instead of going to his new friend. Who was Calla to Tarron? Friend? Family?
Lover?
A low growl rumbled in his chest, but thankfully Tarron didn’t hear the noise. The vampire vanished, translocating to who knew where. Teleportation was one ability that sort of freaked Nick out. Hammer, his friend and right-hand man, could do it, but he was the only Pack member who could.
Deciding to head back, he took off at a trot. All the way back to the stronghold, he found himself recalling every minute of his observation of the beautiful vampire. Calla. He wondered if he’d see her again, perhaps meet in person sometime. He very much hoped so.
He located his clothes and got dressed, then made his way back to the metal door and knocked. The same guard let him in, appearing no happier than he had before.
He thanked the soldier anyway, started to take his leave, then stopped and faced the man again. “By the way, do you know a vampire named Calla? About five-five, beautiful, long chestnut hair, sings like a bird—”
“That would be Princess Calla Shaw,” the guard said, eyes narrowing. “Prince Tarron’s sister.”
Well, fuck a duck. “Maybe we’re talking about different females? Tarron’s last name is Romanoff, not Shaw.”
“The princess is the only Calla in this coven, and she is a widow. She is much adored and fiercely protected by her brother, and I suggest any leanings you have in her direction you allow to pass.” His tone was curt.
Aw, hell. “Thanks for the warning.”
Heaving a sigh, he walked to Tarron’s office, cursing his luck, which never seemed to change. Then he booted up his laptop. He’d check his e-mail, see if anything of interest had come in today.
Immediately, he was sorry he looked.
All thoughts of beautiful vampires vanished at the knowledge of the choice he now faced.
Two days later, Zan was declared fit to leave the infirmary, as long as he promised to take it easy. Which he did, with his fingers crossed under the sheets. He was a wolf. They didn’t do sedentary very well.
He wouldn’t be taking it easy in other areas, either. Today, his rampaging dick simply would not stand down. All of this nearness, cooped up in the infirmary, smelling his mate’s sweet scent night and day, was making him bug nuts, so to speak.