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Rune’s jaw clenched as the cold metal pressed up against me. I waited for pain, but nothing happened. Then the tiniest pinch. He’d barely made a scratch.
I reached up to push his wrist sideways so I could speak without sawing my own vocal cords. “That’s not nearly enough.” Not at this distance from the Guardian.
Rune’s response was forced through lips that barely moved. “How much blood do you need?”
“Half a cup,” I estimated. “Maybe a little more.”
His eyes closed for far longer than they had last time. Persimmon scent enfolded me. If I had to make a guess, I would have thought Rune was carrying on a silent conversation with his wolf.
His next words confirmed it. “A cut that large could be a danger to you. I’d be more precise with lupine teeth.”
He wanted to bite my throat? Like that out-fashioned ritual between lovers, the one a Whelan Alpha could never indulge in?
I narrowed my eyes down to slivers. “This won’t be a mating bite.”
Rune’s reaction was so fast I almost missed it. First a widening of his pupils then a harsh head shake. “I’d never do anything you didn’t want me to.”
“But do you have enough self-control to hold back?” His wolf, after all, was close to the surface. I could see it there, watching me out of his human eyes.
I expected bluster, but instead he kept his response simple. “I do.”
And I believed him. Believed him and found my own wolf strangely silent in my belly.
Kale, meanwhile, was out there somewhere. He might be in trouble. Every second counted.
So I nodded. “Go ahead.”
I expected Rune to shed his clothes and shift. Okay, maybe I was hoping he would. Instead, he stayed completely human, all except for the wolf-sharp teeth that abruptly filled his mouth.
It was grotesque. Not just slightly pointy human teeth, but actual lupine fangs pressing past human lips the wrong shape to hold them.
It was also strange. Why struggle to fit wolf teeth in a human mouth when he could just shift and do the job right?
Rune must have caught the glint of discomfort in my eyes because his forward motion ceased six inches away from my skin. He started to retreat, but we didn’t have time for that.
I reached out and grabbed his hair, pressing him forward. “Bite,” I commanded, even though I knew the order wouldn’t compel him.
He didn’t resist my pressure, but he didn’t bite either. Not at first. Instead, his lips soothed my throat. Not quite a kiss. Not quite a nuzzle.
Whatever it was, it woke parts of my body that I’d forced into dormancy. Warmth suffused me. I softened...then the pain came.
Werewolves had no special healing powers besides bone-setting during shifts, so a bite to the throat was just as painful for us as it would have been for a human. Strangely, though, the tear this time was dulled by pleasure. Rune’s teeth on my skin felt more right than wrong. Muscles stayed loose and my eyes remained shut.
Only when hot blood trickled down onto my collarbone did I blink back to reality. Kale. The Guardian. I twisted away from Rune and leaned forward, guiding the ruby flow down onto blue petals.
Blood loss made me lightheaded. Or so I assumed, even though I wasn’t really losing that much blood. I was definitely dizzy. Panting.
Whatever the reason, I was grateful when Rune’s hands clasped my shoulders. Steadying me. Supporting me.
Preventing me from falling over when a root lunged up the trickle of blood and invaded my throat.
***
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”
The Guardian didn’t say those exact words, but the sentiment suffused me. Impatient. Annoyed to be called upon twice in one day.
“I need....” I coughed against the root that pressed against my windpipe. Its intrusion had halted the flow of blood, but I had to force myself not to jerk away from it. I would have preferred Rune’s teeth at my throat.
More annoyance from the Guardian. The emotion could be summed up in a phrase something like: “Spit it out.”
Meanwhile, one of Rune’s hands slid away from my shoulder and onto the soil-encrusted tendril. He didn’t bear down, but his touch was a warning. “Tara. Are you alright?”
I nodded, then regretted it when the movement tore skin away from the root and restarted the bleeding. Beside me, Rune growled. I reached out blindly, fingers clenching down upon his knee.
We needed to stay focused or the Guardian would lose interest. The chances of it answering my call a third time in such fast succession was zero. “I need to know where Kale is. You remember him. The human child.”
“The girl?”
“Boy,” I corrected. “He was at school an hour ago....”
I closed my eyes and drew up a map in my mind, knowing the Guardian would pluck the information out of my head far easier than I could put it there. It was a human map, based on roads. But the Guardian could translate....
Sure enough, a new image replaced the map, one that didn’t originate with me. A literal bird’s eye view of Kale stepping onto a city bus heading north. It was just a flicker before the bird doing the watching lost interest and swooped down into a holly tree. I blinked and even that image was gone.
“Look up the schedule for the R line,” I murmured. But Rune’s hands didn’t move. One remained on the root, the other on my shoulder.
Okay, I’d do it myself once I was done with the Guardian. But there was more to find out first. “Can you tell if he went of his own volition?”
It had appeared so from the bird’s point of view. Still, the sullying of my glitter had left me leery....
Unfortunately, the Guardian remained silent on that point.
So it needed more inducement. I released Rune’s fingers and fumbled for the wound at my throat instead. Squeezed the edges to dredge up yet more blood.
Rune hissed even though I was the one who felt the pain. He didn’t stop me, though, when I repeated my question. “Did someone force Kale to leave?”
Rather than answering, the root shot out from between my fingers. Disappeared back into the soil.
The Guardian either didn’t know or it didn’t care to say.
***
“LET ME HELP YOU.”
As he spoke, Rune pressed something soft against the wound he’d created. I’d never been a heavy bleeder. In seconds, I knew, my blood would clot.
But I didn’t wriggle away. Instead, I stayed where I was until he released the pressure and peeked beneath the makeshift bandage. Lowering the square of fabric—it was a cloth handkerchief—he swiped at the trail of blood that had slipped down onto my collarbone.
Each stroke was soft yet firm. His fingers on my bare skin left me lightheaded. I clenched my teeth against a pleasure-filled hum.
Now his cloth dabbed lower, following the blood trail. The stain had slid past the ledge of my collarbone and down between my breasts. Rune’s eyes rather than his hands followed, but I still heard him swallow. Felt the immaterial touch.
When he averted his gaze, it was as if a cloud had passed in front of the sun.
“Let me help you,” Rune repeated, pressing the handkerchief into my hand.
I blinked, not quite able to understand what he was asking. I was quite willing to have him help wipe away the blood, but he’d halted that job prematurely. When I dabbed at the sticky residue myself, I couldn’t help imagining his fingers there instead of mine.
No wonder my voice was husky when I answered. “You already did.”
Rune shook his head even as he flowed upward onto his feet. The back door creaked once. Twice. Then my clothes landed with a limp flop behind me. The artificial chime of a cell phone powered up.
“The R line is a local bus,” Rune said, telling me what I knew already. “If it’s running on time, it’s made four stops since picking up Kale. You need eyes you can trust hunting for the child.”
“My pack....”
Rune had been studiously looking away from me until this point, but I felt the moment his gaze seared back in my direction. My shirt was already on and it was long enough to cover my privates. Still, I froze like a fish caught in a net.
“Fae can glamour themselves to look like anyone,” Rune reminded me.
“The alternative?”
“Samhain Shifters. Some of us can hunt for the child. The rest will sniff through your clan in search of fae intruders. We can’t be sure the fae aren’t using glamour to masquerade as one of your own.”
And, just like that, the soap bubble of pleasure popped. Right. I wasn’t some damsel in distress being seduced by a knight in shining armor. I was Alpha and dominant outsiders were a danger to my pack.
I yanked on my pants then stuffed my feet into shoes while asking the obvious question. “Are any of these Samhain Shifters half-fae like you willing to provide their true names as collateral?”
As expected, Rune shook his head. “No, but they’re the only ones other than you who I’ve told my true name.”
I hesitated. That meant something. But did I really trust Rune enough that his trust in others should sway me away from my duty? The web of trust sounded awfully convoluted to me.
I shook my head just as Rune’s voice curled back around me. “The one who isn’t dominant is able to see through glamour. May I invite Athena into your pack?”
He was so polite. So sturdy. Like a fencepost to lean on. I yearned to accept his assistance.
Still, my father’s words hung in my mind: “The Alpha must depend on no one.”
No. I tried to force out the single syllable, but couldn’t quite manage it. Not when doing so would send away the sole ally who eschewed my job title and instead used my name.
Instead, I left the tiniest crack of willingness open. “We don’t have time for this,” I called over my shoulder as I strode toward the front of the house. “Kale needs me. We can discuss your fae hunt after he’s found.”