Claiming Ana (5 page)

A wave of exhaustion made her sway on her feet. Tired. So tired. And this was so outside her realm of expertise. Add to that, her arms ached from supporting him and her feet were killing her after being on them for eighteen hours straight.

Howl reached his bloody hand for hers. “You can do this, Ana. I trust you.”

The moment of self-doubt fled as quickly as it came.
Just because I’m not a medical doctor doesn’t mean I can’t get the job done. I’m the best help available.
She couldn’t wimp out now; Howl’s life was at stake. As his weight became too much for her to support, she slumped to the floor, taking him with her. At the last moment, she managed to twist them so their backs came to rest against the cabinets. Thunder rumbled and shook the kitchen window above the sink.

The kitchen radio switched from Carrie Underwood’s
Blown Away
—someone had a sick sense of humor—to another weather bulletin.

“The National Weather Service in Huntsville, Alabama has issued a tornado warning for the following counties in North Alabama: Marion and Winston until 1:30 AM. At 12:15 The National Weather service indicated rotation within this storm five miles southwest of Hamilton, Alabama moving north northeast…”

“Damn. I forgot about the sirens.” Leaving Howl where he was, she rushed to open the basement door. “Taffy! Basement now.” The dog streaked by her as she went to gather Circe and her kittens. Taking basket and all, she ran down the basement steps and placed the basket under the laundry table. Giving the dog a pat on the head she said, “Taffy. Stay. Guard.”

The dog encircled the basket and lay down. “Good girl. I have to go up.” Racing up the stairs, Ana closed the basement door. Howl had slumped over almost into a lying position. There was no way she could get them both to shelter, and she wasn’t about to leave him here to take his chances.

She pushed the kitchen table flush against the counter over him. Crawling underneath the table, she scooted in beside Howl and tried to cover him with her body. The rumble became a roar. Using the structure of the table as a guide, she mentally conjured a shield of magic around them. She heard the crack and pop of trees snapping, roaring wind, then utter quiet.

Lifting the shield, she shot a glance at her patient, but he was still unconscious. Oblivious to anything that might have happened. Her house appeared to be intact. Well, what she could see of it from the kitchen. She slid his head off her shoulder and rested it against the cabinet door. Her fingers lingered for a moment in the surprisingly soft, silky strands of raven-black hair before she got to her feet.

She pushed the table back in place and opened the basement door. There was no way she’d be able to lift Howl up onto the table. She’d have to tend to him where he lay, on her kitchen floor. Taffy padded over and plopped down. Head propped on Howl’s bare feet, the dog gave a low, mournful howl and licked his big toe lovingly, then bumped Ana’s ankle, wanting to be petted.

“I know. Good girl, Taffy. Let’s take care of him now, okay?”

Ana closed her eyes, sending up a quick prayer that the service had been restored as she picked up the cordless phone off the kitchen counter. She pushed
talk
. Damn, still no dial tone. The storms must be delaying phone line repairs.
Not to mention who knew what kind of damage this latest storm had caused. Cell phones were useless in Shady Creek. The town’s petitions for a closer cell tower had fallen on deaf ears. Heart somewhere near her stomach, she faced the still-unconscious man. “I guess we’re on our own, tough guy. May God help us both.”

Grabbing the old quilt off the sofa, she took two sheets out of the linen closet, as well as a micro fiber blanket. Good thing she had a large, country-style kitchen, she thought as she created a pallet beside the big man.
Okay, I can do this. I have to.
Ana wedged herself between Howl and the cabinet and fit her arms around his chest, turning him so that his shoulders were above the folded blanket and sheet.

Good lord, the man weighed a ton.

For a moment, she was trapped between the cabinet and his fevered body. Ana clenched her teeth as she scooted with him, getting most of his upper torso situated. Once that was done, she chanced a peek down the long length of him. He was…well-built. Feeling distinctly guilty for copping a look while he was unable to protest, she grabbed the second sheet and threw it over his lower body. With quick, efficient movements, she lifted his legs and centered him on the blanket.

She gathered gauze and the supplies needed to clean his arm and began the painstaking process of making sure no debris remained. She’d examine the rest of him for any other injuries, but she was fairly sure if there were, they’d be minor. Using antiseptic and a large bulb syringe as a makeshift suction device, she found the ragged edges of the entry wound, but no exit wound. The bullet must still be embedded in his shoulder.

Bending over him, she lay her hands on his bare chest. She winced at the pinch of pain in her own shoulder as she slid her healing magic carefully through him. There. A glint of metal.
Not far into the tissue. Whatever the slug was coated with helped to hold it together and prevent tissue damage.
With his extensive blood loss, she only hoped he wouldn’t need a transfusion. Fresh blood ran in small rivulets down his chest as fast as she swiped it away. There was no stopping it.

Again she cursed her luck. She would have driven him to the hospital if not for her crushed Jeep. He moaned in agony, drawing her attention. Using a clean dishcloth to wipe the sweat from his face, she hoped his fever wouldn’t get worse. Thunder rattled the kitchen windows. She jumped. Her nerves even more on edge. If another warning were issued, they would be stuck topside again right through the middle of the storm.
I can’t move him now, anyway.

“So hot.” Howl groaned and turned into the damp cloth. “Fire.”

She wet the dishcloth and bathed his face with cool water. Was that steam rising from his forehead?
I must really be out of it.

“You have a fever. If I could just stop the bleeding.”

He opened his eyes and turned his dark head in her direction.

Her next thought had nothing to do with soothing words or medical care. He really had the most unusual eyes, almost the color of an old Spanish coin: more gold than amber. Once they locked onto hers, she couldn’t break that visual connection. It was then she realized how dangerous her situation really was, both physically and emotionally. Like the strays she took in, she might just as easily fall for him, and when he ran, he’d leave her heart ripped in pieces. Unlike Circe, she couldn’t just cuddle him by the fire and decide she’d keep him.

Mmm. Cuddling Howl by the fire.
She had more than cuddling in mind.

“No hospital. You take it out. I’ll be fine…Ana.” He took her hand in his and squeezed. As it had earlier in the day, Howl’s touch sent a lightning flash of heat through her body. He said it with such conviction she could almost believe him. “I trust you. Just get it done. Not much time.”

Relief made her smile. He’d heard her and was lucid enough to remember her name. That was a good sign.

“Alright. I don’t have an anesthetic that would work on you.”

“Just do it.”

“Fine. Remember that later.” Ana touched two fingers to his temples, whispered quietly and called forth her magic.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving your life. Let me in. Trust me, Howl. Sleep.”

“Ah, hell.”

“Now go out.” She realized he was already out cold again.

She rushed into her exam room and gathered the additional supplies and instruments she needed to fish the bullet out. Returning to Howl’s side, she tried to focus her thoughts. She pulled back the plunger on a syringe and gave him a local anesthetic to take the edge off his pain. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had that could be safely given to a human. She prided herself on her calm manner in serious situations, but her patients were four-legged and didn’t talk back. And they didn’t look like the sexy guy occupying a good-sized chunk of her kitchen floor. Outside, thunder rumbled, rattled the windows, and rain began to pour, again. Would these storms never stop? She kept one ear tuned to the radio for announcements.

After cleaning the entrance wound, Ana slid her magic under his skin again, probing.
Too deep. No way I can remove it without magic.
She tugged on the metal with her power until she could feel it sliding back through the torn tissue, healing as she pulled out. She was surprised how easy it was to remove the bullet. Bright metal shone back at her as she grasped it with the forceps. Silver. Ana stared in disbelief. She had her answer to the copious blood loss, the fever, but she wasn’t ready to believe Howl could be…

I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets. My would-be lover is a werewolf.

No way. No freaking way. Her gypsy granny had told her stories of men who morphed physically into wolves, either by curse or blood. Hand shaking, she dropped it into a specimen jar, and lifted it to get a better look.

She had intended to turn the slug over to Cade as evidence to ID the shooter. An odd numbness invaded her limbs. With exquisite care, she drew one finger down the jagged opening. The skin melted together to cover the wound. She went to the sink to wash her hands and made her choice.

I can’t go to Cade now
.
He’s a fair man, but he won’t understand. He will see him as a threat and…
No. Howl was in danger. There was only one reason someone would use a silver-coated bullet unless they were a nutbar. She turned to stare at her patient warily, as if he’d suddenly morphed into that phenomenal creature.
Someone wants Howl dead. Painfully dead.
If he shifted, she could use her powers to protect herself if need be, but it wouldn’t come to that.

She washed him up, and then cleaned the kitchen around him. It looked like her long day had turned into an early morning. Her good deed had just put her between the proverbial rock and a very hard place.

* * * *

Van Michaels slid his pistol back in its holster and silently waited in the pounding rain. He scanned the woods for any sign of wolf or man. Finding none, he continued the search, working his way toward Raven’s house. His cousin had walked right into his trap. No more sounds from the wolf. No padded feet beating a rut into the forest floor. Still, he had heard the eerily human howl of pain as his bullet hit the mark.

He’d followed Howl from Seattle and a dozen other places since his awakening. The moment it occurred, Van felt a change within him and knew what he must do. Raven had become wolf, and he, the wolf’s bane, must end him, just as his father had been forced to end his own twin.
Damn that curse!

Van walked slowly through the woods toward the old farmhouse Howl had been renting. He needn’t find Howl’s body, only confirm the hit. So many times he’d seen it before. Inhumane but necessary, the silver would poison the wolf’s blood, until it ran like water. Howl would bleed out and die. And if the blood loss didn’t kill him, the silver would burn him alive from the inside. Van noted blood on the forest floor and the smeared handprint. Death would come, slowly.

6

Howl woke lying flat on his back on the floor, a fuzzy blanket under him and a soft, warm quilt covering his nakedness. He sniffed the air, caught the coppery scent of blood under the strong smell of cleaner and coffee.

He’d kill for a cup of coffee. Hell, why stop at a cup? Why not the whole damn pot? Maybe then he’d feel something a little closer to human. The slightest movement made his arm ache like a throbbing tooth. To make matters worse, he was hard as a rock.
Yeah, Raven, like this little blanket is going to hide it from her.
Sensing the subject of his desire was close by, he noted his blood was no longer boiling with poison, just pure animal lust.

Opening his eyes, Howl stared at the wooden beams exposed in the ceiling. He’d taught himself to take stock of his surroundings before reacting to any situation. More than once the precaution had saved his life. The events of the previous evening came back with a rush.
Ana’s cabin. I made it here.
He remembered being shot, the light in the woods, and Ana’s magic sliding through him like a drug.

“Oh, great, a fan.” He growled as a big moving blob of gold fur tackled his chest and slobbered all over him. Talk about being violated. “Hey, knock it off. You’re not my kind of girl. Where’s Ana?” he bellowed, then stifled a groan as his head thumped in protest. A whiff of something cut through the pain. Howl sniffed the air again. Over the dog, he recognized the dark, heady scent of jasmine, woman, and gypsy magic.

There she is.

A steady rhythm of clicks came closer and the scent intensified. A slim, tan foot in a sling-back heel stopped next to him. Howl let his gaze trail up the long length of bare flesh, from her bright pink toenails until it disappeared under the hem of a red skirt.
Mmm. I’d like to taste that smooth skin.
Instinctively, he reached out and brushed his fingers across her calf.