Wolf Fever (11 page)

He still didn't believe it. “The light from the house must have illuminated the forest some.”

Carol gave a short laugh. “Yeah, right. Even you couldn't believe something so ludicrous. I'd envisioned following the others into the woods. I hadn't been turned yet. The vision was vague. I only knew Lelandi wasn't with the men and women there. But I recognized some of Darien's people and tried to warn Lelandi about what Darien and his people were.

“She wasn't from Silver Town, and because she was smaller, I thought she wasn't one of you. I thought she
was like me and that Darien intended to change her. I'd never suspected anyone could be born as a werewolf.”

Silva leveled her gaze at Ryan. “Yep, so how do you explain that?”

Carol loved how Silva needled Ryan. She knew if Lelandi was here, she'd gang up on him, too. Not that Carol couldn't hold her own, but it was nice to have the ladies backing her up. She'd never had friends like that before.

Ryan's forehead wrinkled as he considered Silva in a disgruntled way. “Aren't you supposed to be bringing us sandwiches?”

Silva smiled. “Yesiree.” She said to Carol, “He gives you any trouble, sugar, you just let me know.” She sauntered off with the tray of beers for another table.

That's when the whole group from the gathering seemed to arrive at the tavern en masse. Darien walked in first with his arm possessively around Lelandi's shoulders. He looked straight at Ryan and Carol sitting at his table, but instead of making a fuss, he escorted Lelandi to a table nearer the restrooms.

Carol took a relieved breath, glad at least Darien didn't seem to be bothered about this. Maybe Ryan had been right in thinking that Darien had set this up, so he didn't mind giving up his table to them because of it.

As Jake followed them inside, he grumbled, although sounding more amused than truly annoyed, “Sam needs a talking-to if every time we come here, he's allowing some outsider to sit at our table.”

Darien slipped his arm down lower, around Lelandi's waist, and leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Worked out well the last time.”

Five men escorted Becky to a table. Marilee had
several others falling all over her as they grabbed a table and stuck it against another farther away. Mervin was with the second group and gave Ryan another hard look.

Carol studied the women for a moment, still trying to remember where she'd seen them. At the hospital? As patients? But they weren't from around here. Then again, Lelandi had said she'd interviewed them, so maybe they'd been here for a couple of days prior to the gathering. Or maybe earlier to see what Silver Town had to offer before they even expressed an interest in attending the gathering.

“So where were we?” Carol asked Ryan, ready to end this. There was no convincing the stubborn man of science that what she could envision could really happen.

“You were saying you saw our kind shifting while you were still strictly human. Then Darien would have had to turn you if one of Lelandi's pack hadn't during the battle.”

“Probably. But you missed my point. I didn't
physically
see them shape-shift in the woods. I saw it in a vision of the future way before the battle commenced. When I eventually did see the scene for real, I had already been turned.”

She could tell he didn't believe a word of it. No reaction, no expression to indicate what he was thinking. Trying to figure out the next question he'd ask her to see if he could tear her story into bits and prove it was all something made up from a way too vivid imagination?

She ought to tell him about the ghost she once saw. That was sure to go over really well. When she'd told some friends about it, the ones who believed in apparitions had known she was telling the truth. The others had
had the same look as Ryan did now. Disbelief, not even a small smirk in amusement. No, he was not amused. He was too steeped in scientific fact to believe in ghosts or anything else in the supernatural realm.

“I bet you never read about fantasy worlds when you were young. Never believed in the Easter bunny or Santa Claus,” she said.

He gave her a broad smile that made her wish she hadn't made the comment.

“What?” She let out her breath. “Don't tell me you and your kind don't believe in fantasy worlds. You're a living, breathing fantasy—all of you…well, us—if you want to really get technical.”

“Fantasy is in the eye of the beholder. We are the stuff of legends, not fantasy exactly.”

“Right, so I have psychic visions, and you think that's fantasy. But for me, it's real.”

For an inkling, he appeared to consider her words as plausible. But then he said, “I believe we've established that fact.” He shrugged. “Me believe in Santa Claus? Only if he wore a wolf suit sometimes.” He smiled again.

“Our versions of fairy tales might surprise you. Little Red Riding Hood? The wolf, as caring about children as a good family dog might be, was trying to escort Little Riding Hood home safely to her grandmother. The woodcutter was the villain. He didn't give the wolf a chance to prove he was one of the good guys. The woodcutter took one look at the wolf and immediately labeled him as a beast of prey. Our kids, of course, read the original version also, so they know what others are talking about. But we feel we're a little more open minded.”

She raised her brows. “I take it the wolf is not the bad guy in
The Three Little Pigs
, either.”

“Nope, he was totally framed.” Ryan gave her that wolfish grin that suited him so well. He pulled out his credit card, tapped it on the table while watching her, and then finally asked, “Do you feel there's a reason for having the visions?”

She shrugged. “You don't believe anyway.”

“If I did, why do you think you have them?”

“I have no idea why some people have a psychic connection and others don't. Probably just like no one knows why some have a photographic memory or can create music without any training or are geniuses in mathematics or quantum physics. Makes life more interesting when we're not all the same. Don't you agree?”

He studied her, and she swore he was mulling that over. Maybe he wasn't hopeless after all when it came to believing in something that wasn't exactly scientifically proven.

She sighed deeply. “No one in my family has any paranormal abilities. At least not that anyone is willing to speak about. No one wanted me to reveal my talents, either. I even had nice little discussions with a psychiatrist, starting when I was seven.

“Dr. Metzger attempted to brainwash me for three years, trying to convince me I had an overactive imagination. That paranormal abilities weren't possible. That they couldn't be recreated in a scientific environment. In other words, those of us who have these abilities make mistakes like lab rats and don't get it ‘right' all the time. So, we're phonies. All of us.”

Ryan's jaw tightened fractionally. She wasn't sure what the message was there.

“You know what made Dr. Metzger finally give up on me?” She raised her brows, waiting for Ryan to signal for her to continue. She'd never discussed the reason with anyone except her mother because the psychiatrist had been so mad at Carol. She wouldn't have told Ryan, but for whatever reason, she wanted him to believe her. Not that telling him the story about the doctor would make any difference, but…

Ryan didn't say anything for a moment and then asked, “What made him give up on you, Carol?”

“I saw his wife and unborn child die in a car accident before it happened. At least I assumed it was going to happen. I didn't know anything about them. They might have died years earlier. But I saw his very pregnant wife driving the car, and she looked the same as the picture he had of her on his desk, probably taken shortly before the accident. I was sure it was a vision of some future happening.

“I wouldn't have told him about it, but I thought maybe, just maybe, he could stop her from driving into the city. We lived in Denver at the time, but he lived out of town. In my vision, it was winter, and the roads were icy. Their car skidded on the slick roads and crashed into a tree. He didn't believe me. Got really angry instead. Said I was creating the tale because I was mad at him for trying to help me. Help me! Ha!”

She silently fumed, remembering that day so well. Hot tears had filled her eyes, her throat closing.

“He said I was a horrible person for making such a story up.”

No one had ever said anything like that about her. Not someone who was supposed to have her best interests at
heart. Carol took a deep breath, the feelings of that day swamping her with regret. For years, she'd wished she'd never said a thing to him about his wife. At least she hadn't had to see him any further after that.

She looked at the table, fighting bitter tears. “He slammed his fist on the desk and cursed me. The frost giant and his icy blue eyes turned darker and colder. Tears rolled down my face. I was only ten at the time. No one had ever gotten that angry with me over anything.”

“Hell, Carol. His license should have been revoked.”

Carol shook her head. “The worst was yet to come. When I left his office, he called my mother in, and behind his closed door, he told her he wouldn't see me any longer. That I was hopeless. That I was making up horrible stories. My mother asked what kind of stories, but he wouldn't elaborate. I heard him tell her through the door of his office that if I was committed, I'd quickly get over my need to make up these stories.”

Ryan looked on the verge of getting up from his chair and coming around the table to comfort her, but she didn't need his comforting touch. She'd dealt with the issues, and they were in the past. At least that's what she kept telling herself. Yet the memory of Metzger's piercing eyes and the way he'd slammed his fist on the desk was forever imprinted on her brain.

“My mother kept asking me what I'd said to Dr. Metzger. I couldn't tell her, not until later that night. In the beginning, I really had hoped the ‘special' doctor could help me sort out my abilities. Sometimes I wished I didn't have them. Sometimes I wished everyone else did so they knew what it felt like. But denying my
‘talents' wasn't feasible. So I just didn't let on that I had them.”

“Did Dr. Metzger's wife die?”

C
AROL SLUMPED A LITTLE IN HER CHAIR AT THE TAVERN
as she was aware of Ryan's intense gaze on her. She had found no satisfaction in having been right where Dr. Metzger's wife was concerned. She only wished he'd saved her before Carol's vision had come true.

“Yes, his wife died. Not immediately. Three days later, she drove into Denver, or was on her way to Denver, when her SUV slid on ice and she hit a tree. She was in a coma for a couple of days, and then she and her unborn child died.”

When Ryan didn't speak, she added, “It's not an exact science. I didn't know when it would occur. But usually when I get a vision, it's something that will happen pretty soon.”

She gritted her teeth and swallowed the bitterness that came with knowing something bad was going to occur and that she couldn't do anything about it.

“Mom tried to keep it from me, not wanting to upset me. But I'd been looking for the news story, hoping that if it did come to pass, Mom would finally believe me. We never talked about it though. I guess I was always afraid she might think it would be a good idea to have me committed.”

Ryan reached out and took hold of Carol's hand and squeezed. Although she thought she wouldn't appreciate it, she loved the way he gave her a little of the solace she
could have used years earlier. But then again, as much as she tried to tell herself she could deal with it, maybe she really wasn't doing that great a job still.

“Hell, Carol, I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well, no one does who doesn't live with an early warning system in their heads.”

“What happened to the doctor?”

“Dr. Metzger moved away from Denver, and I always wondered what he thought of my abilities then. Maybe if he had another patient who ‘suffered' from my kind of delusions, he would treat them with more respect. Give them the benefit of the doubt. And maybe if he'd listened to me, he could have saved his wife and unborn child. I don't know. I wanted to save them in the worst way, but no one would have ever believed me.”

Ryan frowned but didn't release her hand. “
Can
the future be altered?”

“I don't know for sure. My visions are hazy, not fully developed for the most part. So I suppose that in those cases, the truth of the matter hasn't really been revealed.”

“Do you always foresee something bad?”

She ran her free hand over her chilled glass. “No. It causes problems with Christmas presents and keeping them secret. Especially from me.”

“Because you can touch an object and know something about its contents?”

“Sometimes its history. I can see flashes of who had touched it and why. Sometimes a glimpse of the department where the item was purchased.”

That brought a sexy smile to Ryan's lips, and his thumb stroked her hand with a gentle caress. That little
stroke and the smile on his lips made butterflies flutter about in her stomach.

“Wish I could read minds,” she said.

He chuckled. “I can imagine you might sense some impressions others wouldn't want you to know about.” But then his expression turned dark and he changed topics. “Who is the red who was skulking around Darien's house? Is he after you or Lelandi? Or something else entirely?”

At least he was done questioning her about her psychic abilities. “Lelandi thinks it might be the brother or a cousin of the one who bit me. The men are named Connor and North.”

Ryan closed his gaping mouth and sat very still. “I thought they had all died. Hell, one of them wants
you
for revenge.”

“Or Lelandi. Or maybe he just wants me. Not for revenge. Just as a mate.” She shrugged like it didn't matter. Although it did. She definitely didn't want anything to do with Lelandi's old pack. She sure didn't want to be thought of as someone's possession because his brother or cousin had turned her.

Ryan glanced at Darien, who was still seated across the tavern with Lelandi and his brothers. “You said that Darien ordered the bachelor males to guard you?”

“Yep. Who else?”

Grinding his teeth, Ryan scowled. “They're not trained for this kind of work. Mervin's a damned barber. Avery? He sells gas at the local station.”

“He owns the gas station and convenience store.”

Ryan ignored the comment. “And Christian? He's a used car salesman.”

“Manager and owner of previously loved cars. At least two of the cars he has for sale are new.”

Ryan shook his head. “Right. Not one of them is qualified to protect you.”

“I'll just have to take my chances. Besides, any of them just has to shift, and that takes care of that.” At least she figured it did. They all had very wicked canines when needed.

“We're all hunters when in our wolf form, Carol. That's not what I'm referring to. In their human occupations, they don't normally hunt killers.”

She reached over and patted his hand. “I'm sure I'll be fine.”

“You'll have a premonition, and it will save you.” He ground out the words, as if he couldn't believe she'd be that naïve.

“Like I had about being one of you?” She raised her brows. “No. The premonitions are annoyingly unpredictable. So if I were to have one, it wouldn't mean it would help keep me safe.”

His lips parted, and then he tilted his head to the side, a strange look on his face. “Have you had any lately?”

“Not that you would believe.” She took a long sip of her drink to steady her nerves.

She wanted to tell someone who would believe her because she knew something horrible was going to come to at least a few of the people in the pack and they would have to figure out a way to stop it. But hell, if people who normally believed her wouldn't about this, no way would a P.I. trust her visions when he didn't think her capable of having such abilities.

She shook her head. No. Until she saw more of the dilemma, she couldn't solicit anyone's help.

Ryan had never considered that Carol would have been plagued by visions when she was young and that her parents would have sent her to a psychiatrist for it. Hell. The bastard should have had his license revoked for the way he'd treated Carol. Ryan hated seeing how much the earlier experience had affected her, even though she had fought revealing her feelings.

If she was as young as seven when she began having visions, she might truly have abilities. He shook his head at himself. As an investigator, he had to look into this new lead before he began jumping to unsubstantiated conclusions.

He was also torn over the new information concerning the red who could be stalking the women. He really thought it was that cousin of Lelandi's, Ural, and no real problem. The guy was a nuisance but not a threat.

If it was the brother or cousin of the one who had bitten Carol, was he after her? Or Lelandi? Either would be a prime target for a disgruntled pack that had lost a battle with the grays. And both male reds could be dangerous.

Darien would ensure that Lelandi had the utmost security as the pack leader's mate, and he stayed with her all night, so no problem there. But Carol… Darien couldn't be serious about having the lame betas serve as bodyguards for her. And the notion that any of the others would stay with Carol during the night… hell, that got his blood pressure up.

But something more was troubling her. Something had been bothering her in the truck when they'd parked at the tavern. And she wasn't sleeping, although Ryan hadn't meant to upset her when he mentioned it. He couldn't help but notice the circles under her eyes, and he wanted to know what was disturbing her sleep so much. After he mentioned it, he figured he hadn't quite posed the question in a manner meant to solicit the truth. Instead, he'd antagonized her.

Might as well get this over with and ask what she thought she'd envisioned, while he tried to keep an open mind. He tilted his chin down slightly, and with his most—or at least what he hoped was his most—reassuring expression, he said, “I'm a reasonable man. Try me.”

She studied him for several long seconds, and he wondered what tale she'd come up with. She finally took a deep breath and seemed to come to the conclusion that she might as well talk. Humor him, maybe. “Darien shape-shifts but can't shift back to his human form. Lelandi's worried sick about it, but I haven't a clue as to what to do.”

What she thought she'd envisioned wasn't possible. He didn't say anything, and the look on her face said she knew she'd wasted her breath on him.

“You've told them?” He wondered how they had reacted to the news. Not that it would persuade him to believe in something he truly couldn't wrap his mind around.

“Of course not. I mean, not Darien. Lelandi, yes.” But from the bleak expression on Carol's face, he assumed Lelandi hadn't believed her. He wished that she had, for Carol's sake.

“She didn't think what you had to say had any merit.” Ryan folded his arms, suspecting Lelandi didn't believe her for the same reason he didn't. What Carol thought she saw just couldn't happen. Probably nightmares brought on by all the changes in her life recently.

She finished her drink and stared at the table, and he figured he might have upset her, which he'd had no intention of doing, by bringing up the subject of recent visions.

Ryan let out a heavy sigh. “Carol, is this nightmare you're having about Darien not being able to shift back what's troubling you and keeping you from shifting? And consequently keeping you from sleeping nights? Because I've got to tell you that Lelandi's case, where she was afraid her brother would die and she couldn't shift back, is the only case I've ever heard of.”

Carol smiled as if he was so off base it amused her in a cynical way, and then she leaned back against her chair and promptly changed the topic.

“So if I needed a bodyguard, since you've got the qualifications, could I hire you? Since you don't believe anyone here is qualified. Although it depends on your going rate. I can't be too frivolous with my hard-earned income.”

He frowned at her, not liking that she switched the subject, so he had no qualms about changing it again, thinking about what Jake had confided in him about Carol not shape-shifting yet. He didn't believe she could fight the change for five months.

“You
have
shape-shifted, haven't you? Without anyone being aware of it. You've had to run as a wolf and haven't had time to sleep to make up for it. Am I right?”

The corner of her mouth inched up. “Sure, I've shape-shifted. And you're right. I've been running around in the woods at night, but I have to work at the hospital during the day and haven't had any time to take a wolfish nap. You really are a great detective. But then I'm sure you already knew that.”

She was too coy and had switched too easily from being indignant to being complacent. He gave her a small smile. “You can't be fighting the shift.”

“Nope, when you're right, you're right.”

He'd rather she'd continue to be indignant. Like this, she was too agreeable and toying with him. He took another tack. “I found no sign of your wolf scent in the woods. You haven't been running through them as a wolf.”

“Right again. I run around the guestroom at night. Haven't howled yet, though.” She shrugged. “Not sure how to do that.”

Ryan lifted a brow. “It comes with the shift. A natural part of who you are. Instinctively, if you're to howl to let others know where you are, to gather the pack, to warn others away, you howl. If not, you don't.”

“Of course. I haven't needed to howl.”

He rested his arms on the table and leaned closer, unable to shake loose of what he knew had to be the truth. “You can't be refusing to shift.”

She smiled. “Refuse to shift? Of course I can't. That's impossible. Everyone keeps telling me that.”

Hell. She couldn't be stopping the shift. But then again, the woman was unusual. Intriguing. Maybe she did have the inner strength to fight it. He tried another ploy.

“How does it feel when you shift?”

“Furry.”

He chuckled and then grew serious again. “How are you keeping from shifting?”

She smiled just a little, her eyes, her lips. Something about that look made him think of a wayward wolf, full of mischief, impish, not to be trusted.

“Don't tell me. Your visions are keeping you from…” His mouth gaped as he recalled another incident. “When Mervin grabbed you in the great room, he triggered your need to shift, didn't he?”

Her expression froze, and she didn't say a word.

Which gave away what truly had happened. “You changed clothes but not to compete with the other women. That wouldn't be like you. Hell, you were stripping out of your clothes when Lelandi chased you down.”

Ryan should have been there, not that lame Mervin. Although if he'd seen Carol fighting the shift, he wasn't sure what he would have done. Tried to convince her to shift, learned what he could about how she was fighting it, maybe.