Alpha Pack 4 - Hunters Heart (8 page)

Afghanistan six years ago by those rogue wolf shifters, we

were human. Those of us who survived healed fast, and

became shifters. Our Psy gifts were enhanced by the

change, too. But none of those ugly bastards were our

mates.”

“Good point. So it would seem that one doesn’t have to

be a shifter’s mate to benefit from the bite.” She paused.

“Maybe a human just has to possess a Psy ability.”

Ryon considered this, and nodded. “That could be the

connection. Maybe that’s why we survived the attack

when so many others didn’t.”

“Or it could be simply a thing between mates. Anyway,

it’s certainly a theory worth more study.”

“This is all fascinating, but—”

“I know, you want to see Daria. Impatient, aren’t you?”

She graced him with a full-fledged smile. “Noah’s putting

her into a room now, second one on the left. He’ll come

and get you when he’s done.”

“Thanks, Melina,” he said with feeling. “For

everything.”

“Don’t thank me. You’re the one who’s got your work

cut out for you these next few weeks and months, getting

her settled in. Helping her accept a whole new reality. I

don’t envy you that task.”

Giving his hand a quick squeeze, she turned and walked

briskly away. In less than five minutes, Noah was there.

“You can see her now.” With a sympathetic smile, the

nurse left.

Somehow, walking into her room was the hardest thing

he’d ever done. For a long moment he stood inside the

door and studied the slender, battered woman on the bed.

She was lying on her back, lashes like black lace on her

high cheekbones. Her arms were on top of the covers, the

right one in a cast and sling resting on her stomach, and he

noted the scratches on the left arm weren’t quite as angry

and raw in appearance as they should be. Her color was

much improved, and he noticed for the first time that her

skin was a rich bronze, whether from being outdoors a lot

or from her heritage, he could only guess. Maybe a bit of

both.

As he moved closer and took a seat beside the bed, he

was relieved to see that her breathing was deep and even.

She seemed to be at peace.

He worried about how long that would last.

For several long moments, he contemplated Melina’s

parting words, that she didn’t envy him the task ahead.

Daria might forgive him, but getting there probably would

not be a joyride.

Despite his relief at seeing her already healing, the first

hint of trepidation seeped through like black sludge.

Daria had to forgive him. Had to. The alternative was

unthinkable.

• • •

I shouldn’t be alive.

That was Daria’s initial thought as she blinked into the

sunlight filtering through the crack in the blinds in the

sterile room. Yes, she was completely positive she had

been dying out in that isolated stretch of wilderness, lying

broken at the bottom of a ravine.

How am I here? How?

Gradually, bits and pieces returned. Rescuers had found

her.
He
had been among them, the one she sought. Talking

to her, encouraging her to live. What was his name?

Her thoughts were sluggish, but she finally recalled she

didn’t know it. As more of the fog lifted, she realized that

her vision of him being attacked hadn’t revealed that piece

of information. Nor had they exchanged names when she’d

come to him astrally and begged for help. Then a slight

rustle sounded from her right and she turned her head to

see the man in the flesh, dozing in a chair beside the bed.

She sucked in a sharp, involuntary breath, ignoring the

pain it caused. However beautiful he was in her vision

w a s
nothing
compared to the real thing. Even with his

long, lean frame sprawled in the uncomfortable-looking

chair, shadows under his eyes, and snoring a little as he

slept like the dead, he was stunning male perfection.

He wore faded jeans and a short-sleeved button-up shirt

that wasn’t tucked in. The buttons were open halfway

down his torso, as though he’d thrown on the shirt and

couldn’t be bothered to finish with the task. Though she

couldn’t see his feet, she guessed he must be wearing

tennis shoes.

Taking in her surroundings, she noted that this room was

much like the one she’d visited him in—when? She had no

idea how long she’d been here. There was no clock on the

bedside table or on the wall. There wasn’t much of

anything except a pitcher of water, a plastic cup, the chair,

her bed, and a rolling food tray that held a vase of pretty

flowers.

She blinked at them, and suddenly remembered her dad.

Were they from him? If so, where was he? Maybe he’d

gone for some food.

The blond man stirred in the chair and opened his eyes,

revealing the crystal blue that she remembered. Stretching

his back, he sat up, and in spite of his obvious fatigue, he

smiled at her. His teeth were straight and white, and the

effect on his already breathtaking looks made her heart

skip a beat.

“Hi there.” The rich timbre of his voice was smooth,

sexy. Like the rest of him.

“Hello.” Her own voice was raspy, as though she

hadn’t used it in months. “Where am I?”

“A . . . private facility.” Before she could question him

about that, he scooted closer and laid a big hand on her

arm. Or rather, over the sling and cast covering her arm.

“How are you feeling?”

She paused, taking stock of her body. “Sore. Hurts a

little.” Then she frowned. “Seems like I should be in more

pain, though. Good drugs, maybe.”

Those gorgeous blue eyes grew solemn. “Something

like that. Do you remember your name and what you were

doing in the Shoshone?”

“I’m Daria Bradford, and I’m a wildlife biologist

specializing in the study of wolves.” She swallowed, the

dryness in her throat making her hoarse. Immediately he

caught on and poured her a cup of water, sticking a straw

in it. Then he held the straw to her lips.

“Just a few sips. Don’t want you to get sick.”

The water was heaven. More so was the solicitous

attention from this kind stranger. “Thank you.” She sat

back and he placed the cup on the table.

“You’re welcome.” He paused. “Do you recall how

long you’d been in the area before you fell into the

ravine?”

She nodded, the slight movement making her neck

twinge. “Almost two weeks. And I didn’t fall, I was

pushed. I told you that before.”

A blond brow arched attractively, disappearing under

the fringe of bangs that fell into his eyes. “When you

astrally projected yourself into my hospital room. You

have a gift.”

There was no accusation in his tone. No stunned

disbelief, no censure or disgust. Just honest interest. Why

wasn’t he shocked? “Yes.”

“All right. Why did you go off the trail? Why did you

run from the scene of the body you found, and who pushed

you into the ravine?”

“Back up. I can’t believe you’re taking it so well that I

have a Psy gift.”

He laughed softly. “Trust me, nobody around here will

bat an eyelash at that.”

“What do you mean?”

“All in good time.”

“What’s your name?”

“Ryon Hunter,” he said softly. “At your command.”

He was gazing at her as though she held the answers

he’d sought all his life. It made her feel warm and fuzzy all

over. Weird. And sort of nice.

“It’s good to meet you.” It came out sounding shy,

though she wasn’t typically a shy person at all. This man

got to her, and she didn’t understand why.

“You mean good to meet me
again
.”

“That’s true.” More questions hovered on his lips, she

could tell. But he simply waited. “How long have I been

here?”

“Since yesterday. You were out all night.”

“Okay. To answer you, I broke camp yesterday morning

and left in sort of a hurry because I heard something that

frightened me. A screeching sound.”

“Screeching? Like a bird or something?”

She shook her head. “No. Have you seen any of the old

Godzilla
movies? That awful sound he makes when he’s

trashing Tokyo? That kind of noise, exactly. It echoed

through the mountains.” This information earned her the

dubious look that the revelation of her Psy gift had not.

“It sounded like Godzilla?”

“It did,” she said stiffly. “Every living thing in the forest

went still and silent. My job entails working in nature,

being alone and isolated for weeks at a time as I study the

wolf packs and check their progress. I don’t scare easily,

and I wouldn’t exaggerate something like that.”

He held up a hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you

would. I just can’t come up with anything that would make

a noise like that.”

“Whatever it is, the creature isn’t any type that belongs

in this area, I can assure you.”

After a moment, he nodded. “And then?”

“I hurried out of there, but as the morning went on I

managed to convince myself it was nothing. Until I found

the body.” The memory threatened to make her ill. “I can’t

remember what got my attention first, the sight of clothing

on the ground, or the smell. I went over to investigate, see

if the person was alive, and the body was mutilated. I’ve

never seen anything so gruesome. Ever.”

“Me, neither,” he agreed grimly. “We discovered the

corpse just before we found you, and we’re pretty sure it

was a woman, from parts of her clothing.”

She shuddered. “I didn’t look that closely. I got sick and

then fetched my radio, started to call the rangers. That’s

when the wolf showed up.”

At that, Ryon tensed. “What did it look like?”

“That’s one of the strange things—it was snow white.

Very rare in the wild for an albino of any species to

survive.”

“White? Was it a male?” he asked, his expression

serious.

“Female, sort of small. But she appeared large enough

when she bared her teeth at me and started chasing me

away from the scene of the body. I ran, and came to the

edge of the ravine. When I turned to face her, she lunged

and pushed me over the edge.”

He looked stunned. “Jesus. Maybe the woman was her

kill and she didn’t want you near it?”

“Could be, but I have my doubts. Have you ever seen a

wolf do that to a human?”

“Not a
real
one,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. Anyway, we’ll know more soon, when the

medical examiner finishes with the body.” He fell silent

for a moment, studying her. “I saw you a couple of nights

ago, when I was attacked by some . . . subjects my team

and I were chasing.”

“I’d wondered if you knew I was there, or

remembered,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure what drew

me to you, to be honest. I fell asleep that night and had a

vision of you in the alley with your friends, fighting some

humanlike creatures that looked like vampires. Crazy, I

know.”

A faint smile curved his lips, but he said nothing. The

smile wasn’t mocking, and his eyes were devoid of humor.

“I have real-time visions sometimes when I sleep. I’m

projected into the scene whether I want to be there or not.”

“Wouldn’t that be Dreamwalking, in that case?”

“No. Dreamwalking requires the person, or both parties

if there’s more than one, to be dreaming, and the scene

isn’t necessarily real, or happening at all. It’s often a

fantasy that disappears when the person wakes. It didn’t

actually happen, but the memory can be shared if there’s

more than one Dreamwalker involved. A meeting of the

minds, if you will, rather than reality.”

“I see. So you really
were
there, in the alley with me.”

“Yes. Even in my sleep, I projected a form of myself to

the actual scene that was taking place.”

“Okay.” So simple, his acceptance.

“Just
okay
? Where is your attitude, the sarcasm? What

did you mean when you said nobody around here would be

surprised by my gift?”

“Because nobody will.” He sighed and braced his

elbows on his knees. “You asked me where you are. Right

now you’re a guest of the Institute of Parapsychology,

housed in a secret location in the Shoshone National

Forest.”

“The Institute of Parapsychology,” she repeated, turning

over the term in her mind. Gradually, it dawned on her.

“The study of the paranormal.”

“Yes. As well as the effects of that world on all of us

who live here at the compound.”

She digested this. “And just who are you?”

“My team is called Alpha Pack. We each have different

Psy abilities and we get called all over the world to

handle paranormal predators like the rogue vampires you

witnessed us battling.”

“They really were vampires?” she whispered.

His voice was gentle, almost apologetic. “Those fangs

weren’t fake, honey. Neither was the silver knife that one

bastard buried in my side.”