The Awakening: Aidan (2 page)

The place had a definite homey vibe to it. You’d never know a shifter’s life was in danger by looking at it. With that thought, she haphazardly parked the car beside a four-door truck that made her sedan seem ant-like in comparison, grabbed her briefcase, and jogged up the path. The door flew open before she’d made it onto the porch.

“He hasn’t come out of it!”

Despite the panic on the man’s face, her breath caught and she stumbled to a stop. She didn’t know whom she’d been expecting, but this young, muscular all-man
man
was certainly not it.

Shaggy ginger hair topped his head. The same color stubble lined his cheeks and strong jaw. Green eyes with tiny laugh lines crinkled at the edges watched her, though she figured their appearance was more from worry than laughter right now. That thought brought her out of her hottie-induced stupor. “Where is he?”

“In the living room.”

She went to brush past him, trying to keep her wayward eyes from the thick expanse of his chest that taunted her from beneath the stretched fabric of a green cotton T-shirt that read “Kiss Me, I’m Irish.”

The word “kiss” held her transfixed for a moment, and she paused in the doorway staring at it. A rumble from his chest nudged her back into motion, and she hurried into the room. She felt his eyes follow her, felt them burn into her ass as if he’d actually touched her there.

She was a professional, for goodness’ sake. She’d been around plenty of attractive men. What was it about this one that made her have a momentary lapse in judgment?

No matter. She had a job to do.

Placing her briefcase beside her on the floor, she studied the blond man sitting on the chair, so deep in
Bahrraj
, completely lost in his mate’s emotions, and her heart twisted. As she grabbed a penlight from the pocket of her suit jacket, she stepped in front of him and lifted his eyelid wider. She flicked the light across his pupils. No dilation. Damn it.

“Is he going to be okay?”

She wanted to ignore the other man, pretend he wasn’t there, but she couldn’t disregard the worry in his voice. Without looking at him, she said, “Give me just a minute. I need to do a few things.”

She lifted a stethoscope from her briefcase. She hadn’t used the thing in eight months, but even after she’d made the decision to never work with shifters again, she couldn’t bring herself to toss it away. Weak on her part, but she wasn’t completely anti-shifter. Just…worn out.

Placing the scope to the man’s chest, she listened to his heartbeat. The
Fewshon
buzzed in the background like static from a radio. The fact that she could hear it was concerning. He was even deeper in
Bahrraj
than she’d thought. She moved the scope to his right side under his rib cage, listening for a rumble of his beast. Silence. She clenched her teeth together. Worst-case scenario right in front of her. Thank God she’d brought her kit.

Straightening, she pulled the plugs out of her ears and let the scope hang from her neck. She turned to face Mr. O’Connell. His eyes pierced hers, assessing her with an interested gleam. He stepped closer to her, and she tilted her chin up in warning.

“Mr. O’Connell—

“Aidan.

“
Mister
O’Connell, he’s very deep in
Bahrraj
. I’ll need to take extra measures to reach him. I’ll need for you to leave the room.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “No.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Like she hadn’t seen
that
coming. Heaven-for-freaking-bid she ask a shifter to do something he didn’t want to do. “If you insist on staying, I’ll need your help.”

“I’m listening.”

“He needs more outside stimuli. What’s Liam’s favorite food?”

“Pork chops.”

“Do you have any on hand?”

He nodded.

“Could you throw some on so we can get the scent inside the house? It will help reach him.” Which was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. If it got him out of the room so she could do what she needed to do, then she had no qualms about lying.

When he didn’t move, she leveled him with a stare. “Now.”

A slow grin spread across his lips, drawing her attention to them. Irritation spiked. Not only for noticing his lips, but for what that slow grin had meant. He thought she was cute for trying to boss him around. Ass.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said in a slow drawl.

While he rustled around the kitchen, she calculated the distance. He should be far enough away. He may feel some residual effect, but she and Liam should be safe from any negative impact it may have on Aidan. Jaylin riffled through her briefcase and pulled out the leather package containing the
Splycer
.

Years ago, when she’d been inexperienced and allowed emotion to cloud her judgment, she’d made the mistake of using the device in the presence of another male shifter, something she’d been taught never to do. She’d ended up having to tranquilize the raging beast that had emerged. She’d never made that mistake again. She withdrew the small tool, no bigger than her thumb, and put the earbuds back in her ears.

The smell of pork chops cooking started to permeate the air. Good.

Now to find his beast and bring it back to its rightful place under Liam’s rib cage, so it could help him fight his way back to reality. Unfortunately, his beast could be lost in one of six areas. Placing the stethoscope on his wrist, she listened for a faint rumble. Nothing. She checked around his back and temple, and finally heard the low vibrating growl below his ear where his jawbone stopped. She pulled the cap off the electrode and placed the two coils directly to his skin and pulled the trigger. A red flash lit the room as the sounds of electricity shooting from the
Splycer
into Liam rent the air. His body jerked. Once.

“Liam!” She barked the word, with force and dominance. She snapped her finger.

“Liam!” she repeated.

She saw a flicker in his eyes, a quick shadow that passed right across the iris. Then the tense shoulder beneath her palm relaxed and he blinked.

Jaylin sighed. Thank God. She’d had patients in
Bahrraj
before, but never this deep. His gaze focused on hers and her stomach dropped at the lost look of a
Dserted
shifter. She smiled at him, trying to keep the pity from her face. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

He frowned and moved back in his seat. “Who the hell are you?”

Jaylin straightened as Mr. O’Connell walked into the room with three pork chops on a plate in one hand, while rubbing his chest with the other, a look of confusion on his face.

Yep, he’d felt it.

“What the hell was that red—hey there, buddy, you scared the hell out of me.”

Liam glanced around the room, his frown deepening. “What happened?”

Jaylin sat on the coffee table across from him. “Liam, I’m Dr. Avgar. Mr. O’Connell called me for help. Do you remember anything?’

His jaw turned to granite. “No.”

He was lying. They all did in the beginning, until it got so bad they could no longer lie. “You felt her, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You need therapy. A way to learn to cope. It’s only going to get worse.”

He finally looked at her. The sadness in his eyes reminded her why she’d never mate a shifter, never want to even garner the interest of a shifter. The man standing behind her burned into her awareness.

“I can refer you to someone who can help.”

Mr. O’Connell walked into her line of vision. “No. We need you.”

She glanced up at him. Big mistake. She had the hardest time looking away. “I’ve already told you I no longer take shifters as patients. I work strictly with humans.”

“Can you cure me?”

The soft words came from Liam. When she looked at him, she wanted to cry at the hope in his eyes. She was going to cave. It was why she’d gone strictly human. One look at an emotionally wounded shifter, and she was a goner. “I can help you cope. There is no cure.”

“I’d like for you to help me.”

She stood and grabbed a card from her wallet and handed it to him, unable to believe she was actually going to do it. “Call my office in the morning and we’ll set up a time for you to come in.”

He shook his head sharply. “No. You’ll come here.”

“I don’t make house calls.”

Mr. O’Connell stepped forward. “I’ll pay triple your hourly wage plus gas.”

She swallowed. “You have no idea what I even charge.”

He shrugged. “Money’s no object if Liam can get the help he needs. I’ve been told you are the best…so we need you.”

“But—”

He held up his hand. “Three hundred and fifty an hour, two hour-long sessions a week, and I’ll even pay you the hourly rate for your drive. It took you forty-five minutes to get here, so that’s an extra three hours a week.”

Her eyes almost bulged from their sockets. Seventeen hundred fifty dollars a week? Was he kidding? From his outfit to his cabin, he didn’t look like he had that kind of money just sitting around. She narrowed her eyes. Maybe he was all talk. She’d had it happen before, where the patient was desperate enough to offer anything to get help, but couldn’t follow through.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll need half of the first week’s fee up front.”

Let’s see him get out of that.

He simply left the room.

She blinked. What did that mean? Did he or didn’t he have the money?

She shook her head and busied herself putting her supplies away. A few minutes later, a white envelope was thrust under her nose. She shot a glance up at Mr. O’Connell, irritated by the triumphant smirk on his lips.

“Do we have an arrangement?” he asked.

She took the envelope and opened the flap to find nine crisp hundred-dollar bills.

“Consider the extra payment for the gas you used on the way up here.”

For once in her life, she was at a loss for words. She’d been certain he was bluffing, that she didn’t have to worry about being around him anymore, that she’d leave here tonight never to see Mr. O’Connell again.

But money talked, and right now she needed it. Badly.

Since she’d cut her patient list by more than half, she was barely making enough to feed herself, much less keep the practice open. This kind of money would help with the loss of income and hopefully give her some time to grow her human patient list.

“Well?”

The one word grated on her nerves.
He
grated on her nerves. Yeah, she needed this money, but not if it meant dealing with this man twice a week. Then she noticed Liam rubbing his palms on his jeans. Cagey. Juiced. She grabbed the stethoscope from her briefcase. As she bent toward his chest, he jerked away from her.

“Hold still.”

He froze. She placed the scope back over his heart. The buzz of the
Fewshon
was still audible, although not as loud. The shock should’ve knocked the connection into submission and she shouldn’t be able to hear it. She listened under his rib cage. His beast made the mournful sounds of a wounded animal. Frowning, she straightened. The poor man was on the brink of another
Bahrraj
episode. But when would it hit? It could be an hour, a day, maybe two. But it was going to happen. Soon. Money or not, he needed her help and she couldn’t in good conscience walk away from him. “I have a few hours free in the morning.”

Mr. O’Connell stepped forward. “Perfect.”

She tilted her chin in the air. “My appointment is with Liam. I’m willing to come, but only if he’s alone.”

He lifted one brow. “I live here.”

“Don’t you have a job?”

“I work from home.”

Damn. “Then stay in your office.”

“I can do that.”

She frowned in suspicion at his easy acceptance, but forced herself to look back at Liam. “I’ll see you around ten.”

He nodded.

“Now if you gentlemen will excuse me. I need to get home.” She grabbed her briefcase and ignored Mr. O’Connell as she walked by him to the front door, but it was hard to ignore his scent, which attacked her nose with its mouthwatering appeal. No cologne. All shifter and woods. The image of Mr. O’Connell shirtless, skin glistening with sweat, as he used an ax to chop wood teased her mind. That would be a sight to behold.

Wait. What?

She shook her head.
Get your mind out of the gutter, woman. He’s a shifter.

That fact alone should’ve tempered her awareness of him, but it was there in full force, knowledge of his species and all. Not good.

She reached for the doorknob just as a strong arm shot past her. His hand slid across hers and sent a thrilling shock up her arm that shot to straight between her legs. She snatched her hand back.

“Allow me.” The deep masculine drawl breathed into her ear, causing another wave of liquid heat to wash over her.

She stumbled back as he opened the door, then rushed past him and down the path. His footsteps followed at a leisurely pace. When she reached the trunk of her car, she turned. “You can go back inside, Mr. O’Connell.”

He stopped in front of her, his chest mere inches from her face, the word “kiss” once again holding her captivated. She wanted to trace each letter, feel the muscles twitch under her finger with each light caress. Hear his beast growl in approval.

Instead, she tilted her head back to look at him, then had to crank it back some more. It was like looking up at the Jolly Green Giant. Part of her wished she’d worn higher heels. The four-inch ones perhaps, so he didn’t make her feel so small and vulnerable—but she had a feeling that even if she could look him in the eyes, he’d still have that ability, and that annoyed her.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Mr. O’Connell, I suggest you take a lesson in personal space.”

Damned if he didn’t move closer, forcing her to tilt her head even farther back. She wanted to step back, step away from the overwhelming awareness, but she held her ground. She’d shown a moment of weakness by stumbling away from his touch at the door. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it again.

“Call me Aidan.”

“You’re the roommate of my patient. You’ll always be Mr. O’Connell.” But, boy, was she tempted to say his name. Just once. To see what it felt like on her tongue. “Good day, Mr. O’Connell.”