Wolf Fever (31 page)

After sleeping a few hours, and still feeling the sensual glow that always lingered after making love with Ryan, Carol returned to the kitchen to begin working on the
Aconitum
cure. The plant also was called monkshood, leopard's bane, wolf's bane, and dozens of other aliases. Not only was it touted as an herbal cure for colds and fever, but it also slowed the heart rate and numbed nerve endings to pain.

However, the roots of the plant were poisonous, and while the mostly deep blue or purple flowers were strikingly beautiful, they could also be deadly. So why did some werewolf lore state that the flower was a cure for being a werewolf? It killed wolves. But wouldn't it kill the human half also? Still, often legends arose from some truth. What if it would cure what ailed them?

The dawn was just beginning to appear, the darkness fading as the sun rose. Ryan was again reading through the files on Miller's computer, which Ryan had brought
back to Doc Weber's house. Ryan's cell phone rang, and he yanked it off his belt.

“Yeah, Tom?” He glanced at Carol. She assumed it might be good news, but Ryan's expression was noncommittal as he stalked out of the kitchen to the living room to speak to Tom.

Carol started boiling the roots of the wolf's bane in a small stainless-steel pot. When Ryan walked back into the kitchen, she knew he was going on another fact-finding mission. Unfortunately, he'd done so at least once a day, sometimes more, and nothing had ever come of it.

She'd quit asking, and he hadn't offered explanations. The disappointment at not getting any closer to a solution was too much to deal with.

“I'll be back shortly.” He leaned down and kissed Carol's cheek, but a new look of worry reflected in his eyes. She rose from her chair and took his hand.

“What's the matter, Ryan?”

“Nothing. Just another lead, as usual. I'll be back soon.” He pulled her close and hugged her tight.

It didn't seem like “nothing.” Knowing him, he was probably afraid to make her more anxious than she already was.

“You're not going into another wolf fight, are you? Without my help?”

He chuckled, kissed her generously on the mouth, and embraced her warmly.

“No more wolf fights for now. And I wouldn't think of not taking you with me to get me out of hot water if I needed it.”

“Liar,” she said affectionately.

He smiled. “Truly, no wolf fights. Just another lead.”

She let out her breath, squeezed him back, and said, “All right. Bring me the vaccine, and I'll make it worth your while.”

He laughed and cupped a breast. “You will anyway.” He rubbed her back, said his usual, “Good luck,” and headed out of the house.

If he said he wasn't going into a wolf fight, she believed him. Only sometimes, the unexpected happened. Something was bothering him, and she wasn't certain she wanted to know what it was. But she suspected—he was fighting the shift, just like she'd been doing for days now.

Ryan had been surprised as hell when he discovered that Miller had a bank account and safe deposit box at the Silver Town Bank. That seemed to confirm that Miller was plotting to take over the town. Ryan had wasted no time in getting a court order from the local judge that allowed him access to the safe deposit box. He hoped something in the box would reveal whether a cure of vaccine existed, although it was a long shot, and he didn't want to give Carol any more false hopes.

She was aware that something more than usual was bothering him. The real dilemma was his need to shape-shift, which had been growing since the night before. He'd never worried about shifting, but as more of Darien's people were affected, his own concern had grown.

Not only that, but he'd noticed that Carol's body temperature had been warmer the previous night, and he thought she'd been running a low-grade fever. Although she hadn't mentioned anything to him about it. Even he had a sore throat this morning. He wondered if the virus
was geared to push their wolf half into taking over once they were at some stage of being sick.

Thankfully, humans in the area were no longer shooting wolves. Darien's stiff policy of jail sentences, hefty fines, and rescinded hunting licenses had been enough of a deterrent. Also, those who had shape-shifted into wolves were trying to stay close to their homes in the woods. Those who lived in town had been taken in by families living out of town to try to reduce the problem of human-wolf contact.

Ryan drove to the bank, parked, and stalked inside where Mason, the bank owner, quickly greeted him. Mason took him to the bank vault, where the safety deposit boxes were located behind a cage door.

Wearing one of his expensive gray suits, the gray-bearded banker led Ryan inside the vault. “I'd wring Miller's thick neck if you hadn't already killed him,” the banker told Ryan.

“I wish we could have kept him alive, at least until we learned if he had a vaccine or not,” Ryan replied.

“From what I've heard, it couldn't have been helped.” Mason unlocked the metal box with its two keys and let Ryan open it. He scoured over the documents, receipts for medical supplies, rubber-banded bundles of one-thousand-dollar bills, and…

Ryan pulled a deed for a house in Silver Town out of the box. “Hell, apparently Miller had set up housekeeping here only a month after the big fight between Darien's people and the reds.”

“Well, I'll be damned. No one ever thought to see if he'd purchased real estate here. Now what?” Mason asked, stroking his beard.

“Time to pay a call at his house at 150 Oak Drive. Thanks, Mason. I'll let you know if I find anything.”

As Ryan headed out of the bank to his truck, he called Tom with a heads-up and then drove over to Miller's home. It was a modest place with black shutters framing two large windows and massive oaks shading the grass. The lawn was a little shaggy, probably because Miller had been dead for ten days and a warming trend and spring rain had encouraged the growth.

Sheriff Peter Jorgenson drove into the drive, and Ryan gave him a silent nod of greeting. He'd planned to use his lock picks, although he supposed that some of the neighbors might be human and having a police officer on hand would be better. The sheriff was better yet.

“Peter,” Ryan said as the sheriff climbed out of his vehicle.

“Ryan. Tom called and said to meet you here. Think this is where the gold is?”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

Peter stifled a cough.

“You, too, eh?”

“Hell, yeah. I don't think any of us are going to escape it.”

Deputy Trevor drove up, lights flashing. He waved and joined them as Peter unlocked the door.

“Can you believe the bastard was living among us?” Trevor said, punching his fist into the palm of his hand.

“The guy had balls. I'll give him that,” Ryan said.

When they entered the house, the smell of fresh paint assaulted them. New carpeting covered the floors, but the place was empty. No drapes over windows covered in mini-blinds. No furniture.

“Not moved in yet, looks like,” Trevor said, sounding thankful, as though just the knowledge that Miller hadn't been living under their noses all along was a relief.

But the knowledge that Miller hadn't moved in ratcheted up Ryan's anxiety a notch. If Miller hadn't been here, he most likely wouldn't have left anything here. Still, they had to make sure.

While Trevor checked the bedrooms and bathroom down the hall, Ryan and Peter stalked toward the kitchen.

Everything looked brand new—appliances, cabinets, black granite countertop—despite the home being an older model.

“He was getting ready to move in, I suspect,” Peter said, searching through the drawers and cabinets.

“Yeah, probably just waiting for us all to be infected and unable to shift back. Wonder what he would have done about the wolf half of us. Not many of us would have let him live if he'd ventured out of his house.”

Ryan noticed that the fridge was running. He pulled open the fridge door. Through the glass top of one of the drawers, he spied several vials of liquid and packages of powder in a manila envelope.

“Might not be what we're looking for,” Ryan said, pulling out a vial and looking at it like it was the most volatile thing in the world, “…but then again it might be.”

“Hot damn,” Peter said.

Ryan opened a piece of paper from the envelope and read the first few lines of scribble. And smiled.

T
HE FRONT DOOR TO
D
OC'S HOUSE OPENED, AND
C
AROL
wondered if Ryan had found anything this time. She immediately straightened her back as she stood at the counter. She was boiling water in an electric teakettle in the process of making anise tea, one more possible herbal remedy for fighting a viral infection.

Again, she considered the wolf's bane solution she'd cooked and hidden in the crisper of the fridge. She wouldn't risk giving
that
remedy to anyone else. She did consider drinking a bit of it herself, now that she was sick with the flu, to see if it might be a cure.

She tilted her head in the direction of the footfalls. They were a woman's, much lighter and delicate than Ryan's heavier step. She thrust the container of wolf's bane back in its hiding spot and closed the door.

Then someone else's footfalls sounded. Two women? At first, she thought it might be Bertha, bringing her and Ryan a snack as she'd been doing for the past several days, trying to help out in any way that she could, but they'd eaten breakfast an hour earlier.

Carol turned stiffly to see who was coming. Her skin felt warmer than normal, and she suspected—although she couldn't find a thermometer in Doc's house to confirm it—that she had another low-grade fever. She felt tired and out of sorts, her head throbbing, and she was deathly afraid that anytime now she'd shift.

The only reason she hadn't yet, she figured, was because she'd shifted to help Ryan fight Miller. Before that, she'd shifted so she could play fishnet tag with North and his men. That might have knocked out the urge for the time being.

With any luck, maybe she'd find a cure before she felt the compulsion again.

The footsteps grew closer. Couldn't be Silva. She was sick and terrified of shifting. She didn't want to get near Carol and risk contaminating her. Or Nurse Charlotte. She was too busy dealing with patients to come to the house.

Which left Lelandi and some other women in the pack that Carol didn't know well. Lelandi had better not be coming here to see her!

“Who's there?” Carol called out, not wanting Lelandi to come any closer, if that's who it was.

The footfalls continued through the living room in the direction of the kitchen.

“'Tis I, Rosalind,” Ryan's sister said, her voice bright and cheerful.

Carol's mouth dropped. Oh, hell. She didn't want anyone to lose faith in her ability to find a cure now that she was sick and could be on the verge of shifting at any time, but she didn't want Rosalind exposed to what she had, either.

“You can't come in,” Carol said, her voice firm.

“Lelandi said it was all right.”

“Lelandi's wrong.” Carol frowned. “Who's with you?”

“Lelandi,” Darien's mate said, sounding amused.

“Lelandi, you shouldn't be here. Neither of you should. I… I'm sick.”

They were nearly to the kitchen. Carol turned off the teakettle, but she didn't know what else to do. It hurt to stand or sit or even lie down. Her joints all ached. Her throat was sore. She felt miserable.

“Don't come in,” she warned.

Lelandi and Rosalind ignored her and entered the kitchen, each carrying a brass container of red roses. Rosalind was wearing a pale pink sweater and matching jeans. Her curly, long brown hair bounced on her shoulders, and her amber eyes sparkled with excitement. Her smile was sweeter than Ryan's and not as devious as his often was.

Her red hair tied back in a bun, Lelandi wore a loosely fitted emerald sweatshirt and sweatpants. Carol wondered if Lelandi's jeans were getting a little too snug around her waist with triplets on the way. Lelandi gave her a knowing smile.

“Ryan has good news. But you've beat him at the game again.”

Carol slumped on the chair, feeling lightheaded. Tears blurred her eyes. Even if Ryan had found the vaccine, it would only protect werewolves from getting the virus, not cure those who had it already.

“What are you doing here, Rosalind? You shouldn't be here,” Carol said, defeated though hopeful that Ryan
did
find the vaccine and that it would help those who weren't sick.

“I couldn't stand being in Green Valley and not knowing how this was all going down. Lelandi told me you were looking into herbal remedies. I have a greenhouse and wanted to bring all kinds of fresh herbs for you to use in your search for the cure.”

Carol sighed. “You shouldn't have come. What if you get sick, too?” Then she frowned and looked at Lelandi. “If Ryan found the vaccine, how would
I
have beaten him at the
game
?”

Lelandi beamed, then crossed the floor, pulled Carol from the chair into her embrace, and hugged her soundly. Carol wanted to break loose and dash away from her. But Carol didn't have the strength. Was Lelandi mad?

Rosalind waited, but the way she was standing so rigidly and grinning from ear to ear, Carol wondered if it was because she knew for sure Ryan and she were mated. But that would all be for nothing if she didn't find a cure!

“Darien shifted a few minutes ago,” Lelandi said, tears misting her eyes. “God, Carol, you did it. That first remedy you tried—the one he balked at and I had to force him to drink? The spicy ginger tea? Combined with the raw onion chunks left soaking in honey overnight that he growled at me over, and the Echinacea… all of the different remedies together worked. It just took a while, but… he's back to his usual self. Well, a little gruffer than usual. He would have come down here personally and thanked you…”

Tears streamed down Carol's cheeks like a river run amok. She couldn't grasp the ramifications of what she'd done, and she wasn't sure she could accept it. What if they turned back? What if this didn't last?

Rosalind joined them. “Ryan found a jewel when he fell in love with you,” she said, and tugged Carol into a hug. “I've always wanted a sister who could beat him in something.”

But it wasn't a game. She embraced Rosalind back, pleased to have another sister to add to her family in any event. She reached over and drew Lelandi into an all-girls' hug.

“Are you sure, Lelandi?”

Tears streaked down Lelandi's cheeks now, too, and she nodded vigorously.

“Oh, hell yeah. He's giving orders, yelling at Tom for allowing you to let North into the exam room and nearly taking off with you; giving Jake grief for shape-shifting and getting stuck, even though he knew it couldn't be helped; and scolding me for allowing you to mate with Ryan without letting him know first.”

She smiled. “We'll miss you, Carol. Will you be all right when Ryan takes you home to his pack?”

Rosalind took Carol's hand and squeezed. “Silver Town's not that far from Green Valley. She'll visit. We both will, if it's all right.”

“For the all-girl-night parties,” Carol said, trying to smile.

Rosalind gave Carol another hug. “Sounds like those could get out of hand, and I'm in. After you and Ryan are all right and no one from our pack will get sick with this…” She grinned even more broadly. “…You can come home. Don't tell Ryan, but I'm moving to a condo in town, closer to my garden shop. The house will be yours and Ryan's. He'll say no, because he wants to keep an eye on me, but I need a little freedom, and… well, this is going to be perfect.”

“I… I—”

“Darien is so proud of you,” Lelandi said. “So very
proud of you. He'll tell you himself after he finishes ordering everyone around. At least those who haven't shifted yet.” She motioned to the doorway. “Ryan ran the vaccine to the hospital, and Charlotte and Matthew will be giving vaccinations to anyone who isn't sick. Rosalind and I were already vaccinated.

“Doc also shifted back—we suspect maybe even earlier than Darien. We didn't know it until just a few minutes ago because he was so tired that he slept through the whole thing. He'll help with the vaccinations and wants to tell Ryan to join our pack and forget taking you away.

“Of course, Darien would say no to that. It's one thing for Ryan to come here to help us out with an important matter. But it's another for Darien to have to butt heads with him all the time.”

“Carol?” Ryan called as he entered the house. “Have I got good news! We found the vaccine.”

Smiling, Lelandi and Carol wiped away residual tears as the women all waited for Ryan to enter the kitchen.

Ryan's smile faltered when he saw Rosalind and Lelandi with their arms around Carol's waist. “I got waylaid at the hospital and thought the two of you had gone home,” he said to Lelandi.

“We were on our way there when Darien called Lelandi with the news. Carol found the cure,” Rosalind said, proudly. “So we had to tell her right away. Once you and she are cured and ready to come home… well, everything will be right with the world.”

He looked from Rosalind to Lelandi. She shrugged. “Darien's raising Cain with everyone—North and his pack members; the two gray females, Becky and
Marilee, for their shenanigans; and Tom for allowing North to nearly take off with Carol at the hospital.”

“He shifted back.” Ryan smiled with a bit of the devil in his expression. “He's mad at me for taking Carol as my mate without his permission, I can just bet.”

“Um, yeah, but he'll speak with you after he makes sure Carol's cure has lasting power.”

Ryan chuckled darkly. “And now?”

“Doc Mitchell hasn't changed back yet, and he's having fits over it. Doc Weber said the two of you can stay in his home as long as you like. He'll stay with Doc Mitchell in his big, old house in the country until the vet shifts back.”

Carol felt relief and exhaustion, knowing that she no longer had to push herself to find a cure and that Ryan wouldn't have to keep looking for a vaccine. She slumped down on the kitchen chair and wanted to sleep for the next year without waking to do anything.

Ryan saw the telltale signs that Carol was truly sick. He assumed she'd been trying to hide it from him earlier. Now he saw how her eyelids drooped, her eyes glassy and her face pale. She looked worn out and sick. Like he felt.

“What's the cure?” he asked, ready to give it to Carol first.

She motioned to the fridge, teakettle, and herbs and spices sitting in containers on the counter. “A half-dozen remedies together. But I've detailed everything in my notes on the computer.”

He glanced at the packages of licorice sitting on the countertop. “Not the licorice.” He frowned at her. “Or the onion soaked all night in honey, surely.”

She smiled a little and reached for his hand. “At least we don't have to try wolf's bane.”

“Wolf's bane?” Rosalind and Lelandi said at the same time.

Carol shrugged. “It could have killed us. I need to throw that remedy out before anyone drinks it by accident.”

Everyone looked at her as if she'd lost her mind.

“Or it could have been a cure, according to werewolf lore. It was used for medicinal purposes eons ago. And as a poison.”

Lelandi asked, “Where is it?”

“The bottom-right crisper in the fridge, blue container.”

Rosalind went to dispose of it.

“Until we can move to Green Valley, Carol and I will stay here,” Ryan said, damned thankful they hadn't had to try wolf's bane. He hated the taste of licorice, and the idea of onions soaked in honey was sure to turn him off eating either for months.

“What about Puss?” Carol asked, and sneezed.

“Maybe Puss should stay with us a while longer while you get your rest,” Lelandi suggested.

Carol nodded. The fight was out of her. She needed to rest.

Ryan gathered her up into his arms, feeling how warm her body was and knowing she was running a fever.

“No one is to disturb us… for anything.”

Rosalind grinned. “I never thought I'd see the day that my brother would be mated.”

Lelandi patted Ryan's back as he headed for the guest bedroom. “Take good care of her.”

“She'll be good as new before you know it.”

But Carol wasn't good as new in short order. She was run down, stressed to the max, and totally worn out. She lost her voice, coughed constantly, ran fevers, and ached all over. Ryan, who wasn't nearly as sick, was still feeling poorly. He had to watch the way he coughed and grimaced every time he swallowed. Yet he took care of Carol as if he were her personal nurse, bossy sometimes and coaxing at other times.

He brought her fresh boxes of tissues and glasses of water and orange juice and sore throat lozenges and expectorant medicines. He forced down pots of ginger tea, onions minus honey, honey on toast—hopefully with the same benefit, small doses of licorice, and garlic. He tried all the remedies she'd used with Darien and the others who had contracted the virus, except for the exercise routine.

Three times the previous night, she'd had the damnable urge to shift, and the heat had again struck her. Three times, Ryan had made love to her, and to her amazement and joy, he'd coaxed the urge to shift right out of her. If she'd known that hot sex would keep the shift from occurring, she would have dragged him from the woods the first night she'd seen him and sneaked him into the guest bedroom to ply his erotic moves on her.