Authors: Jory Strong
Healer's Choice (21 page)
Aryck could follow his father’s line of thought, his suspicion that perhaps the Wolves wanted to expand their territory. Guns could be found in the rubble and salvaged. But without ammunition, they were useless, and ammunition was difficult to acquire. It required a trip into the human world and could wipe out a pack’s store of recovered coins and gems.
Coyotes preferred flight over fight. Their land was ruin-filled, more suited to hiding than hunting. They held it unchallenged because it served as a buffer of sorts between stronger, larger predatory groups.
After a long moment of silence, Koren answered,
I don’t know if the Wolves are dealing with the humans
.
The sudden quiet bothers me as much as the gunfire did. For now, we wait. We watch. We try to make sense of what the humans are looking for on Coyote land so we can assess the danger of them moving into our territory.
I don’t know if the Wolves are dealing with the humans
.
The sudden quiet bothers me as much as the gunfire did. For now, we wait. We watch. We try to make sense of what the humans are looking for on Coyote land so we can assess the danger of them moving into our territory.
The link with his father fell away. Aryck offered the book to Rebekka, unconsciously holding it in a way that forced her fingers to brush against his. Only to release it and walk away when his cock responded instantly to her touch, and his mind filled with fantasies of pulling her more firmly against him.
Rebekka placed the journal in her pocket with shaky hands. The sudden race of her heart edged out exhaustion and cleared the fuzziness from her mind.
Why now?
she wondered, trying to ignore the fluttering through her chest and the lingering heat where their hands had touched.
Why him?
she wondered, trying to ignore the fluttering through her chest and the lingering heat where their hands had touched.
Why him?
It was obvious from the way Aryck stalked off that he wasn’t any happier about the physical attraction than she was. So why did he find excuses to touch her? In a day, maybe two, she’d be on her way to Oakland.
She closed her eyes but couldn’t escape the sight of him. He was there in a hundred images. In both of his forms.
It wasn’t just his physical beauty affecting her; it was his determination. His relentless resolve to save the cubs that caused a melting sensation in the region of her heart and a traitorous internal voice to whisper,
And he doesn’t have a mate
.
And he doesn’t have a mate
.
Despite what she’d thought when she first saw Melina crouched next to Aryck’s jaguar form, they weren’t paired. There was no bond-scent, Levi said, so they weren’t permanently mated.
She felt a blush rising to her face as she remembered the awkward conversation she’d had with Levi before he left with Cyrin. It was a talk spawned by her embarrassment at not being able to hide her physical reaction or the shame she felt at desiring someone she thought was already claimed by another.
Despite Levi’s warning her against getting involved with a pure Were, one who might play with her but who would never take her as a mate or leave his world for a human one, a fantasy crept into her thoughts. Of touching her hands to Aryck’s chest, exploring with her fingertips. Tracing the smooth flow of muscle and circling tiny nipples.
The melting heat in her chest slid downward, through her belly and into her labia. Her channel spasmed.
She opened her eyes, banishing the images. Levi was right.
Getting involved with a pure Were, especially one who lived outside the red zone, would be a mistake. It would only lead to heartbreak.
The crushing weight of exhaustion returned and Rebekka wanted to close her eyes again and sink to the ground. She doubted landing on hidden rocks would matter at this point. Sleep would claim her before she touched the bed of leaves on the forest floor.
Imagining it increased the pull of gravity. Her knees bent in preparation for yielding.
Canino rumbled and rubbed against her, jolting her to wakefulness. She placed a hand on his shoulder as ahead of her Aryck turned, his lips pulling back in an instant snarl and his eyes going fierce.
As silently as he’d stalked away, he returned, his movements holding the dangerous grace of a jaguar going after prey. His hand gripped her wrist like an iron manacle, the impact of it forcing her to take a step away from Canino.
Canino snorted before yawning widely. His emotions brushed against Rebekka’s empathetic senses, amusement coupled with satisfaction at having delivered a barbed taunt to another big cat.
“There’s no time to waste,” Aryck said, his voice gravelly, harsh. “Three of the cubs barely remain in this world. The other two are not far behind them.”
His words were a club Rebekka used to beat back exhaustion and keep it behind a barricade of determination. “Let’s hurry then.”
She refused to fail the cubs. Even without the root she needed for the wash she could use her gift to battle infection and to restore skin and muscle.
It wouldn’t be permanent, not until the nanites were destroyed. But she could stabilize the cubs, keep them alive until a true healing was possible.
A mile passed in bristling silence with Aryck shackling her to his side and ignoring her. The longer it continued, the angrier she got.
Rebekka tugged, attempting to break Aryck’s hold on her wrist. His fingers tightened in reaction. She pulled again. Harder. And when he didn’t let her wrist go, she halted, digging in her heels so there was a sharp jerk down the length of their arms.
He turned, and she felt her lips pulling back in a snarl of her own. “Release me.”
Surprise probably accounted for him doing just that. It was there in his eyes, glinting along with something else. Appreciation maybe.
Rebekka refused to contemplate it. She shook out her arm like a prisoner freed from a chain, then, without a word, continued in the direction they were headed with fast, purposeful strides.
He caught up easily, striding close enough so every other step it seemed as though his arm brushed against hers, sending a jolt of awareness through her. To take her mind off his effect on her, she asked, “Will your pack have found the root by the time we reach the cubs?”
Aryck faltered, recovering with cat quickness so there was barely a change in the smoothness of his movements. She added, “I know you were showing someone the picture of the plant.”
“How?”
Her eyebrows drew together. She wondered why he would ask such thing when the answer should be obvious. “I live and work among Weres.”
“Outcasts.”
She drew away from him then, a step, all the trail allowed but enough so there would be no casual touch of his skin against hers. “You say it as if they were all guilty of crimes.”
His nostrils flared. She braced for an argument. Instead he answered her original question. “My father is speaking with our healer, Phaedra, about the root. If she’s not familiar with it, he’ll ask others.”
“And the cubs? Can you describe their current condition?”
“No. He didn’t show me images of them.”
The tightness in Aryck’s voice revealed his fear they would be too late. Rebekka returned to his side, unable to stop herself from taking his hand in a silent offer of comfort. “I can run for a while.”
He brushed his thumb against her knuckles in a soft caress, then slipped into an easy lope. She fell behind within steps and found a pace she could sustain.
They slowed and sped up as needed. Stopped when absolutely necessary.
Rebekka drew on strength beyond any she thought to possess. She endured because she couldn’t accept the price of failure. Pushed on, fueled by optimism when she drew abreast of Aryck and he said, “The plant has been found and the roots harvested. Phaedra assumes you’ll need boiling water to create the wash. It should be ready by the time we reach camp. We’re close now, less than a mile.”
“Good,” Rebekka said, the pain in her sides making it difficult to say more.
They arrived a short time later, finally stopping in front of a house well hidden by trees. From inside the small building came the steady beat of drums and songlike chanting.
Rebekka forced herself to remain upright though she trembled with physical exhaustion. The gathered Jaguars would view it as a sign of weakness, but at least they wouldn’t scent fear on her at being in their presence. She’d come too far, endured too much, to feel anything but a driving need to get to the cubs and heal them so she could finally rest.
An old woman stepped through those gathered. She was cool-eyed and assessing. “The water boils,” she said, thrusting a wooden cup into Rebekka’s hands. “Drink this. It will revive you so we can make the wash for the cubs. They grow worse, but I believe there is still time to heal them if we hurry.”
Phaedra, the healer
, Rebekka thought, drinking the bitter brew and recognizing it as a stimulant some of the brothel prostitutes used when they wanted to work longer hours to pay off their debt more quickly.
, Rebekka thought, drinking the bitter brew and recognizing it as a stimulant some of the brothel prostitutes used when they wanted to work longer hours to pay off their debt more quickly.
She handed the cup back to the old woman. “This way,” Phaedra said, leading Rebekka to the back of the house where other Jaguars waited.
It was easy to pick out the parents of the cubs. They stood in pairs, desperate hope shining in their eyes as well as the promise of death if a human caused further harm.
Several copper pots hung over small fires, the water in them boiling. On a nearby table lay the roots she needed, along with bowls, knives, and stone pestles.
Aryck took the blanket-made satchel from her shoulder before she could slide it off. He unknotted it, gently dumping the contents on the table. Rebekka pulled the journal from her pocket, opening it to the page describing how to make the wash.
Phaedra emitted a low, threatening growl and instantly Rebekka found herself behind Aryck. Canino crowded in, trapping her against the table and answering Phaedra with a growl of his own.
Several men shed loose clothing, shifting form. They crouched in readiness for attack.
A knife appeared in Aryck’s hand, pulled from a sheath he wore on his thigh.
Fourteen
THE back door opened, freeing the stench of infection and making the sound of the drums beating within throb through the air. A man stood in the entryway.
“Enough,” he said, his voice holding such command Rebekka knew instantly he was the alpha, and most likely Aryck’s father given how closely they resembled each other.
His gaze fell on Canino. “This is no place for you. Melina will take you to my home until the cubs have been healed. The enforcer has promised Rebekka safety while she is among us. No harm will come to her on Jaguar lands.”
Rebekka touched Canino’s shoulder, using her gift to communicate calmness and acceptance. He rubbed against her, eliciting a growl from Aryck, before padding away to follow Melina.
One by one the male Jaguars reclaimed their human shapes and pulled on their clothing. The pack leader sent a hard stare at Phaedra. She bowed her head slightly. “I am too old to have reacted without thinking. The book smells of Jaguar, but its origins and how it came to be in human hands aren’t as important as its contents. My apologies to Rebekka. If she will read what has been written, we will set to work.”
Aryck stepped back and Rebekka reclaimed her spot next to Phaedra. The Jaguar healer made no attempt to see the words written on the pages as Rebekka described what needed to be done.
Phaedra listened. She assigned tasks to those gathered, halting Rebekka only once and asking to see a picture of a familiar plant bearing an unfamiliar name.
Compared to the length of the journey, creating the wash took very little time. Yet by the time it was done, the concentrated solution mixed with cold water so it could be safely applied, Rebekka’s worry was profound.
“The parents will apply it to their cubs,” Phaedra said, though she lifted one of the basins containing the wash and carried it into the house herself.
Rebekka stood aside, allowing the others to precede her. Four couples passed by, the male in each pair stopping to pick up a basin before following his mate inside.
Aryck motioned Rebekka ahead of him. She entered the house, barely noting the old men with their drums or the caped figure with his back to her.
It was obvious every effort had been made to keep the sickroom sanitary, but the stench was overwhelming. She sought out the cubs with her eyes, a soft sound of distress escaping with the first sight of them.
Horror filled Rebekka, though she’d known what to expect. They were nearly unrecognizable as something living instead of slabs of skinned meat.
Pallets were positioned to allow family members to gather around them. Only the shape of their limbs told her four of them were in animal form while the fifth was a boy of about eight.
Unlike the cubs in jaguar form, there was only one parent present at the pallet the boy lay on. Tears streamed down the woman’s gaunt face, and she rocked, so lost in grief she seemed unaware of the activity going on around her.
Phaedra tended the cub. Rebekka went to her side, taking up a small cup and dipping it into the basin.
Aryck joined them, crouching next to Rebekka. “This is Caius. His mother is Deidre. She recently returned to the pack after losing her Tiger mate. Caius is like his father.”
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