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Rory rode in the back of the van with ... Siofra.
Was that even her real name?
It hadn’t smelled like a lie when he heard it, but she hid secrets for sure. From the terrified look and obvious exhaustion, he could understand her not spilling her guts to strangers.
Vic drove the van that bumped along the dirt road as they left the Black River Pack compound. The whole van stank of wolf. Once Vic delivered them to a private airport in the area, Hawk would pick up Rory and this unusual female, then fly them to headquarters.
Hawk should arrive by eleven, as Rory had explained to Siofra.
After Cole shared Hawk’s ETA in military time back at the compound, the nymph asked why they were talking in code.
The Guardian wanted her returned immediately and had specified that Rory be the one to escort her.
By the time he’d herded the despondent woman to the van left behind by the wolf pack, the rest of the team had scoured the building for all the electronics and any bit of intel they could glean.
Most of that was piled back here with him.
And her.
Rory had argued against binding her wrists, while at the same time making it clear there was no question she’d leap out of a moving vehicle to escape.
Justin had given him a look of death and demanded, “If you don’t want to secure her physically, then what the hell do we do with her, genius?”
Cole stepped between them and suggested Rory ride in the back as her guard since the boss wanted him to return with her.
Even Ferrell voted in favor of riding with her.
His agitated jaguar had been sending him a flurry of bloody images since Rory had failed to shift when the wolf shifters attacked him.
Agreeing to ride with Siofra calmed Ferrell and allowed Rory the chance he’d been waiting for to get some answers.
Now he just needed to convince this frightened woman to talk during the short ride to the airport.
She’d been staring him down with those beautiful eyes, and the bruise on her cheek and jaw had him wanting to rip a wolf apart. She still wore a damp hospital gown, but he’d given her a blanket to wrap up in and a bottle of water she currently squeezed into an hourglass shape.
He’d had Vic flip on the rear interior light. Rory didn’t need it with his keen shifter eyesight, but the dim yellow lamp allowed Siofra to not be entirely in the dark.
A thousand questions rolled around in his head, but the top one was about her energy. During the few seconds he’d touched her when he pulled her off the wolf shifter she’d bowled over, he’d felt a jolt of that energy bleed into him through his hands and feed down to his leg. Again.
His damaged limb had stopped aching and started healing a tiny bit in that one moment.
He desperately wanted to find out if she had the power to heal his leg, or maybe even the issue with his animal.
But he couldn’t very well take her into custody then ask her to heal him. She wasn’t under arrest, but she was right about not being able to walk away. In her shoes, he wouldn’t be happy either. For now, what he could do was find out what the hell was going on with her and what the Black River pack wanted with her before they got separated.
Actually, this conversation had to happen before they reached the local airport where they’d be flown to Spartanburg.
Rory would not hold any truth against Justin when he filed his report. Just like he’d told his friend, Rory would take full responsibility for pushing the extraction plan timeline. That move would have screwed them all if the woman had not been on site when they entered the compound.
She had been, just as Rory had known with his sixth sense, but the Guardian had no tolerance for lack of discipline on a mission.
If the team switched directions halfway through every mission just because someone had a feeling, people would die.
He wasn’t sure what he’d say to his boss, but he’d felt pulled to go in immediately to save her.
Would she talk to him? “How’re you doing, Siofra?”
She grumbled, “I’d be better if I was free.” She glanced over at him. “Why do you always yell at me?”
The question threw him a curve, forcing a defensive reply. “I don’t.” Any of his teammates would have called him on that lie.
“Yes, you do,” she countered. “And you do it whenever I’m helping. You have no right to be angry with me.”
He couldn’t argue that point. He did feel bad about yelling at her, but she kept racing into battles where claws ruled. “Okay, you’re right, but I wasn’t angry with you.”
The wary expression on her face questioned his words.
He explained, “I’m sorry it sounded that way. I admit I was furious, but not at you. I kept seeing you jump into battles between shifters and you weren’t a shifter. That makes me crazy every time I think about it.”
“Why?” Her soft question pushed him to talk when he hated trying to explain himself.
But he didn’t want her to think he hadn’t appreciated her selfless act. He said, “I don’t like seeing you hurt. I don’t want you sliced up by razor-sharp claws or killed by a shifter fist to the head. Hell, your face is swollen and turning color from someone hitting you. I bet a wolf did that, right?” Just thinking about it had his insides torn up and Ferrell growling.
She touched her cheek. “I failed to lower my eyes when I spoke to their alpha. One of the guards backhanded me to fix my attitude.” She gave a sad smile. “Didn’t work. ”
“Which wolf?”
She dropped her hand. “Why?”
“Because I will find him one day. When I do, he won’t harm another woman ever again.”
Sitting back, she studied Rory for a long time until finally saying, “That’s nice.”
The fury inside him that had been bubbling since they climbed into the cargo area subsided a little.
Using his medic’s bedside manner voice in an attempt to keep her hackles down, he asked, “How’d you come to be caught with the shifters the bounty hunters had in cages?”
“Why?”
Adversarial little thing. “I’m trying to understand how you eventually ended up captured by a division of the Black River pack.”
“Men.”
“Men? I need a little more.”
She chewed on the side of her lip, looking like she was doing all she could to keep from screaming at him. With a glance to the side, she whispered as if speaking to a different person. “Not now.”
If she thought he hadn’t seen her lips move or heard those words above the noise of the diesel engine, she was wrong. Who had she been talking to? Asking about that would only sidetrack her attempt to communicate.
Brushing her white hair off her face in a tired motion, she leaned back with her arms crossed. “Men, as in men are the bane of my life. They live for the sole purpose of destroying any chance I have for happiness. They always want, want, want something from me. No one ever gives a damn about what I want.”
That was a mouthful for her, but it hit him in the heart.
What life had this woman led before now? She sounded like she’d had a relationship go bad and she spoke as if all men had conspired to destroy her life.
Giving him a pointed look, she said, “Just like you and your buddies. I appreciate you coming to save me, but the only thing I’ve asked you for—twice—is to let me go.”
She had him there.
But what could he do? He was obeying orders. More than that, he had this burning need to protect her, even if that meant protecting her from herself. She had a determined streak that said to hell with risk.
“Where’d you grow up?” he asked, trying again.
“A slave under a man’s thumb.”
Had she been a captive before? Undeterred by her distant attitude, he kept pushing. “Where were you before you met up with the female shifter and her son on that bus?” He had the route the long-distance bus had taken from Texas, but she could have switched buses.
“Texas.”
Truth. “Where were you living in Texas?”
“Somewhere in South Texas. I caught a bus in Columbus.”
“Are you running from someone?”
She rubbed her forehead and looked away, debate playing out in her expression. She didn’t answer, instead slashing her unusual gaze back at him when she asked, “How’d you hurt your leg?”
He got that she wanted a break from questions, and that was fine. She’d answered a few. He’d learned from being a jaguar shifter that patience paid off when in pursuit, especially one as nervous and untrusting as this one.
She lifted her eyebrows as if to challenge him for not replying.
He swallowed a chuckle.
That she could be surrounded by monsters and hold her own was downright sexy. She might be nervous, but she had plenty of fight in her.
He explained, “During our first meeting, after you ran off, I got attacked by two jacked-up wolf shifters. One shredded my leg to the bone.”
She sat up and tiny lines formed at the bridge of her nose. “Were you shifted?”
“Yes. I won the fight, but my leg came out on the short end in that one.”
Easing back against the wall of the van as it bumped onto a smoother road and jostled them, Siofra said, “That was a day or two back.” She stopped as if trying to determine the day, then shook it off. “Have you shifted to heal?”
She seemed fairly clued in about shifters, which was another piece of her makeup that churned his curiosity. But he hadn’t planned to share as much as he had. He tried to make it sound standard, which was not the case.
Shrugging, he said, “I shifted, but this just happens to be a slow recovery.” Admitting that raised his dread at seeing the Guardian, because Rory’s leg had not healed any further. It would take only one look for the Guardian to make good on sending him to Wyoming or putting Rory into an unconscious stasis.
Thinking about injuries, Rory asked, “How’s the wound where that jackal cut you with his claw?”
Moving her hand to her stomach, she said, “Fine. Getting better.”
“Lie. I saw your midriff when you ran from the bounty hunters. Your skin had healed completely in minutes. Your bruises from where they hit you tonight are already fading, and your arm is almost healed where that wolf clawed you.”
She gave him a flat stare. “Why ask me when you know the answer?”
Yep, she was skittish and not ready to trust him, especially after that trick question. He admitted, “To see if you’d tell me the truth and find out if ... you’re a healer.”
She turned to stare at the electronics and files piled between them and the wall separating the cargo area from the driver. She wouldn’t look at him for a while.
He waited as patiently as Ferrell stalking dinner.
When she finally turned to face him again, she sounded despondent. “I told you I’m not a healer. I have no idea where this power came from, but it’s not safe.”
To her credit, she kept warning him about her power, but he hadn’t sensed any threat when they’d touched. Just the opposite.
He leaned forward, propping one hand on his knee and dropping his other one to gently squeeze the aching leg. “I don’t know that it’s dangerous to everyone. It didn’t harm me.” He debated on how much to say, but ... he was in deep water with the Guardian, his jaguar could be dying and he was staring at the one person who might be able to help him.
His jaguar had calmed around her for some reason, too.
Rory might be making a mistake, but he took a leap of faith and told her, “In fact, your touch healed a wound I received during our first encounter.”
Her mouth fell open, an honest reaction. She snapped her lips closed and asked, “How ... I don’t ... how do you know my energy healed your wound?”
“If you’ll recall, you saw my shoulder get ripped open and I hadn’t shifted. When your fingers touched my damaged shoulder, I felt your power rush into me and start mending it. The minute you pulled away, my shoulder healing slowed, and it stopped completely the next day.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Really? What about now?”
He shrugged. “It’s getting there.”
Talking to her about this went against every belief he had to never admit a weakness to anyone, but he’d carried his secrets for the longest time.
Where had that gotten him?
The Guardian believed he was killing his animal.
Rory had no idea if he was doing the right thing by telling a stranger, but he could feel his life force dwindling. He’d ignored it for too long.
She had no reason to trust him, but she had once. If she would again, he had a feeling he could find his way out of the mess he and his jaguar were in.
Could a nymph repair him beyond what his Guardian had accomplished?
She chewed on her lip again, but this time she seemed to be considering something and said, “I felt your power, too. It was ... huge, strong. I’ve seen jackal shifters heal fast and I never got the sense that they were as powerful as you.”
There was a new snippet of information.
Where had she been around jackal shifters to observe them?
She was starting to give him tiny bits of truth, which he interpreted as tiny steps toward trusting. His instincts said this was huge for a woman on the run, and that he needed to move ahead carefully.
He let the topic of jackal shifters be for now and answered her. “I am more powerful than most shifters when entirely healthy, but there is no absolute rule for any shifter.” That sounded better than admitting he and his jaguar couldn’t fix this problem. “My boss is a powerful healer. He worked on my leg and it’s on the mend.”
Lie, Ferrell sniped at him.
Now his jaguar wanted to use words?
Mate heal.
Rory sent back, I’m trying to fix whatever is wrong with us, but she is not our mate.
His jaguar remained quiet, and felt withdrawn. Not a good sign.
Ferrell didn’t even send him a bloody image. That was actually a bad sign. Was his animal giving up on them? What the hell had Rory done to fuck this up so badly?
Siofra’s gaze dropped to the leg he’d been rubbing. He lifted his hand away, a kneejerk reaction to anyone noticing him in a weakened state.
Ridiculous action, considering he’d already admitted the wound was not healed.
She stood up with her hand on the back door and leaned over to keep from hitting the roof. The hospital gown hung on her like a sack.
He went on immediate alert.
Was she about to jump, thinking he wouldn’t go after her with a damaged leg? If so, she was very mistaken.
No, she squatted down and leaned forward on her knees, then reached out to touch his leg. She paused at the last second, staring at his black fatigues, and looked up with big eyes. “Can I see it?”
His heart thundered in his chest.
He wanted her to touch him in the worst way and not just to heal his leg. That was just plain strange. He shook off the crazy thought and focused again.
She was still waiting for his answer.
“Sure. You can see it, but I warn you it’s not a pretty sight.” He pulled up the pants leg until he revealed the hideous collage of raw muscle, bones and skin trying to regenerate.
She cringed, but to her credit she didn’t throw up.
He wouldn’t take any drugs to dull the throbbing out of fear it would slow his healing even more. Based on what the Guardian had done, his leg should have mended more by now.
The sadness in her eyes touched him in a way that few things did. He didn’t want her pity, though. He’d closed off his emotions years ago to survive being a Gallize shifter after losing his brother and ultimately his family.
She barely spoke. “You really think I can heal this? I’d like to do that for you, but I’m not sure I know how.”
No one got through to him, really deep inside him, but the genuine concern in her voice woke his heart with a jolt.
He admitted, “I don’t know, but I’m willing to try ... if you are.”
She reached out again, but pulled back.
His heart dove to his feet. “You don’t have to,” he said, letting her off the hook.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, but I have no control over this power. Sometimes it doesn’t show up at all and other times it’s been ... deadly. I don’t want to hurt anyone, especially you.”
The truth poured through her heartfelt words.
His jaguar hummed. Rory’s pulse skyrocketed when she said “especially you.” “When you say deadly, do you mean that jackal you killed with your hands?”
“It was an accident!” she said in a pleading voice as if she needed someone to believe her. Her face crumbled. “They were both accidents.”
“Both?” he asked softly.
She covered her mouth and her eyes welled with tears. When she spoke, her words were thick with emotion. She shook her head slowly as she stared straight ahead, lost in some memory, but kept talking as if on autoplay. “I ... I didn’t even know I could do it, but the first one ... he was ... a jackal ... bigger, stronger ... ” She cupped her throat, a movement of fear, and kept staring with unfocused eyes. “I tried to get away, but he had me down and ... ” Pausing, she swallowed a choking sound. “ ... he ripped my clothes and ... I could feel energy in my feet, then my legs and ... then he tore my pants and I panicked.” Her voice went up to that of a child in distress. “I don’t know. I grabbed his arms and ... the power just ... shocked his body and he ... ” Tears ran down her face, but she was too locked in her nightmare to realize anything but the horror she relived.
She moaned in terror.
Shit. He reached down and picked her up under her arms, lifting her across his lap. He pulled her close and held her against his chest, rocking her. “Shh. It’s okay. Sounds like he deserved whatever he got.” He kept her that way, holding her safely while she bawled her eyes out.
This woman was no killer.
She was a survivor in a world of preternatural monsters, a whole different level of predators from human ones.
Rory had no idea what her power was all about, but he was damned glad it showed up in time to zap that piece-of-shit jackal.
At least he hoped she’d stopped him before he raped her.
When her sobbing finally slowed down, she was sniffling and hiccupping at the same time. If it hadn’t been such a dire situation that had brought on this moment, he’d smile over how adorable she was when she had her claws pulled back and allowed him to hold her.
She felt good in his arms.
Too good.
He should put her on the bench next to him.
Not fucking happening.
He paused at noticing his jaguar was still silent, but not withdrawn this time. No, this was different.
Ferrell seemed ... peaceful.
Was she healing his animal without any idea what she was doing?
When she wiped the back of her hand across her nose, then on her hospital gown, he did chuckle.
She lifted her swollen eyes to him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“What?” she repeated.
He should have figured out by now she was persistent, if nothing else. “I like how comfortable you are right now. You’re pretty and sweet. A winning combination.”
She looked at the hand she’d just wiped on her gown and rolled her eyes. “Not my best moment, but the only shower I’ve had was getting hosed down by the wolves so this rag is as good as a tissue.”
He should have killed all the wolves.
“Whoa,” she said, putting her hand on his chest. “What’s wrong? You’re squeezing the breath out of me.”
“Sorry. Just ... I don’t like hearing about one more person abusing you.”
She cocked her head, giving him a deep look. “Why? You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t have to know a woman to not want her misused.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. She touched his cheek and her energy hummed against him.
“You’re welcome. Did you stop that jackal before he ... ”
“Did the deed?” she finished. “Yes, but I still don’t know how it happened. I have no idea how I killed the bounty hunter jackal who was attacking you, either, but ... I was trying to stop him from hurting you.”
Did she think he was going to hold that against her? “I’m glad you did. Thank you for putting yourself at risk again, but I don’t want you hurt.”
“You’re welcome,” she whispered. Letting out a deep sigh, she said, “Sorry for crying all over you. That’s been coming for a while, but I’m recovered from my pity party. I want to take another look at your leg.”
She thought crying over almost being raped and killing two men unintentionally was having a pity party. Damn, had no one cut this woman any slack?
He helped her to her feet and waited as she knelt again.
When she positioned herself in front of his leg and wiped her face on her gown again, Rory lifted the pants leg once more.
“That’s awful,” she said as if to herself.
“I’ve had worse,” he admitted, but failed to add that it had been a long time ago when he was learning to control his jaguar.
“Ready for me to try to touch you?”
He put a finger under her chin and lifted so she would face him. “Only if you want to try this. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t choose to do. Before you do, I need you to know that I still have to deliver you to our boss, because we made an agreement with the woman who sent us to rescue you. She protects shifters and is taking care of all those women and children we saved from the bounty hunters. She’s the one who was adamant about finding you.”
“What are you saying?”
“Whether your touch fixes any of my leg or not, I can’t just let you go. To be completely honest, I would have a difficult time knowing you were out there alone and being hunted, but I have orders to take you in. No one will hurt you there. We all want to help you, but I won’t let you do this and not know everything.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of testing my energy to heal you?” she asked, with a twinkle in her unusual eyes.
“No. Maybe, hell I don’t know.” He dropped his hand from her chin. “I’ve never had to ask anyone outside of our group for anything. I just don’t want to be one more man taking advantage of you.”
She listened quietly and some understanding dawned in her face. She murmured, “Not like the others.”
He asked, “What?”
Brushing away whatever she’d realized, she nodded. “I understand what you’re saying. Thanks for being honest with me, but I still want to try if you’re sure you want to be my guinea pig.” She gave him a crooked smile.
His heart did a double backflip. He was in far more danger from that smile than he was from her energy.
“I’m willing. I know you have concerns about your power, Siofra, but you can’t hurt me. I’m hard to kill.”
She flinched at the last word and he regretted going that far, but he didn’t talk to women a lot. He could make them happy as hell in bed, but not with his words.
Talking always got him in trouble.
He’d pointed out all the potential negatives, so he gave her the positive. “Your power has already touched me and didn’t harm me those times.”
“There is that, but I don’t even know if it will show up again,” she murmured.
“I understand.” After all this woman had been through, he was amazed and humbled that she was willing to try to heal his leg even knowing he would still deliver her to his boss.
She focused all her attention on his leg as if she were a surgeon. When she reached out this time, she carefully placed three fingers along the damaged calf.
Heat and energy flooded his leg, shooting up into his body. The muscles and tendons tightened as if cinched down with a ratchet. The pain was excruciating. Far worse than what the Guardian had put him through.
Ferrell howled and banged, fighting to get out. That energy was flooding him.
Rory gripped the edge of the bench and banged his head back, moaning.
Siofra’s voice came to him from a distance. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not touching you. Rory, please don’t die. I’m sorry.”
Shit, he’d gladly die right now. His leg felt as if claws were ripping it apart again and his head wanted to explode. His eyes rolled so far up in his head, everything went dark.
His last thought was to ask her not to escape, but the words never made it to his lips.
