Wolf Fever (27 page)

He moaned. “Carol…” She swore that if he didn't have such a husky, rushed voice, he might begin to beg. Begging was good.

Paused in a partial crouch, hovering over him with her hands planted on either side of his body against the soft couch, she held herself aloft, planning to sit and take hold of his sex and stroke until he was unable to stand the sheer pleasure another second. Until the back of his fingers swept up her inner thigh and she bit her lip, his touch sending a tremor of need through her. And then his fingers chafed against her thigh again, whisper soft,
heating her core, and making her blood burn for him. His hand touched the short curly hairs at the juncture of her thighs and paused there.

She leaned against his hand, pressing her mound against his tormenting fingers. Her arms were giving out, so she decided to forgo stroking him and situated herself over his arousal to take the plunge. But she also wanted to draw out the experience, so she lowered herself against his hand again, stirring him into action. His fingers slipped into the wet folds, and she nearly died— a wonderfully exquisite death.

Every fiber of her being, wolf and human, craved having the alpha male. Nothing else mattered. She was beginning to move higher, to line herself up with his arousal, when his hands grasped her inner thighs, and she swallowed a gasp. He wasn't going to let her take control.

He pulled her closer, his thumbs directed toward her woman's core, and then reached up and began to stroke her. Her whole body felt like vanilla pudding in his hands, and she didn't think she could stay like this for very long without collapsing on him. His smile said he knew it, too. His strokes became faster, bringing her to the edge and stirring her passion until… she felt the sun and moon collide—and she cried out at the first time she'd ever felt so wildly intoxicated, her body still quivering with the rush of adrenaline.

Ryan should have warned her that if she thought to entice him with her feminine wiles, she'd better be prepared to accept the consequences.

The smell of her sweet arousal and the way her legs straddled his, opening herself to him, were driving him mad. Holding onto his sanity, attempting control while
she touched him, had to be the hardest thing he'd ever done. Hell, as soon as she climbed on top of him, leaving herself ripe for penetration? He'd wanted to take the plunge right then and there. He sighed. The little red wolf would be the death of him.

He released her thighs and reached up to take hold of her waist. She gasped as he lifted her away from him and switched places so that she was on her back, her sweetness bared to him. Alpha male on top, in control, he slid his hands up her arms, lifting them above her head so her breasts were ready again for his tongue.

She was beautiful and sweet in a spicy way, and all his.

She smiled at him and licked her lips with a slow slide meant to prime him. But he had been ready to finish this before they'd even shed one article of clothing. He slid his leg over hers and pinned her to the couch. Her lids lowered, and he gently touched her lips with his. He craved her more than he'd ever desired anyone.

As soon as he kissed her, she ran her hands over his arms, her touch tantalizingly sensual. Then she lifted her leg between his, gently pressing against his stiff erection. He groaned, and her lips twitched upward slightly. But he wouldn't be pushed into a quick resolution.

He lowered his head and latched his mouth onto one of her nipples again, the bud puckered for his enjoyment. She moaned and ran her hands through his hair, her fingertips massaging his scalp with such finesse that he wanted to rest his head against her breast and give in to the sensual feel. He couldn't decide which gave him more pleasure, hearing her light moans as his fingers stroked her swollen nub, or the way she caressed him— as if he was as precious to her as he felt she was to him.

With her orgasm still fluttering deep inside her, he slipped his erection into her and thrust again and again, deeper, harder, primal with wanting, as he claimed his mate forever.

“Ryan,” she cried out when he couldn't hold onto the moment any longer and filled her with his seed.

He had meant to build up slowly, to make her enjoy the pleasure of him touching her last, but she arched against his fingers, her breathing shallow, her heartbeat pounding wildly, her eyes closed as her tongue wetted her lips, and he knew she couldn't last much longer. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever been with—from the golden blonde hair framing her alabaster skin to nicely rounded breasts that made his mouth water for another taste, and nipples dusky pink and fully extended for his pleasure.

“Ah, Ryan,” she whispered, her heated little body arching one last time. She sighed and licked her lips again, the orgasm rippling through her in another cascade of waves.

No one had ever said his name with such eroticism, longing, and need.

For a minute, he lay snuggled together with Carol, loving the feel of her silky warmth, the vitality of her beating heart, the sweet scent that was unique to a red female, and even more special because of Carol's alluring fragrance. He had spent five months obsessing over her, and now she truly was his.

Teaching her the way of the wolf was next on the agenda. That trial had only begun.

S
NUGGLED AGAINST
R
YAN'S HOT, MUSCLED FRAME
, Carol needed a moment to realize that someone was at the basement door trying to get in, shattering her blissful contentment.

“Carol and that gray outsider have locked the damn door to the basement. I've tried to reach her, but there's no answer on her cell phone. Are you sure that you have the key to the facilities down here?” Nurse Matthew asked outside the door to the lab, lounge, and laundry area.

“Oh, hell,” Carol said, scrambling to untangle herself from Ryan on the staff-lounge sofa. “We must have fallen asleep.” She searched for her bra and frowned.

Naked, his body a chiseled wonder, Ryan put his arms behind his head and watched her.

Her face heated as he eyed her breasts. If she and Ryan had been someplace else, someplace more private, and had the circumstances been different, she would have told the intruders to go away.

“Later, Ryan,” she said, her voice still hushed. “We've got to get dressed.”

He got up off the couch slowly like a wolf, took her shoulders, and then kissed her mouth leisurely and with meaning. He had claimed her; she was his; and everyone had better get used to the idea.

All right, all right, so she was his. And he was all hers, too. But this was not the time to prove it.

She nipped his mouth. “Help me find my bra.” She hurried to pull on her panties, her scrub pants, and then her tennis shoes.

He searched under the couch and around his pile of clothes. “Don't see it.”

She gave him a dark look. “Fine. Get dressed. Hurry.”

“I've got the janitor's keys, and one should unlock the door,” Jake said, his voice a little louder than necessary, as if he was warning Ryan and Carol to get ready for the incoming invasion. One key, then another was inserted in the lock, metal against metal.

“Jake,” Carol whispered.

“Hurry it up,” Matthew said.

“There are at least fifty keys on this ring. You know which one it is?”

Silence.

Ryan dragged his shirt on and slipped into his pants. Carol ran her fingers through her hair, trying to put it in some kind of order. Then she hurried over to the lab and retrieved the lab tech's report and blood samples from Doc Weber in his wolf form.

“Where's Doc Weber?” Jake asked Matthew conversationally, still playing with the keys in the lock.

Thank you, Jake,
Carol said silently.

“He's wolf napping again in his office on a dog pad they brought over from the vet's kennel after Doc refused to lie on his bed. As fastidious as he is, he probably didn't want to shed fur on the linens. He's still running a fever and coughing. The shift didn't knock out the virus like it should have. So he can't have had human flu.”

Carol examined the blood sample under an electron
microscope, observing roughly spherical shapes that were covered in rigid spikes like a halo.
Some halo.

She glanced back at Ryan to see if he was dressed yet. He had finished buttoning his shirt and shoving the tails into his pants and was giving her a devilish wink and a little smile when the door lock clicked open. She shook her head at him. In his macho way, he just had to prove to Darien's pack that she was his. Not that she minded. At least no other male would think she was fair game any longer.

Ryan zipped up his zipper and buckled his belt as Jake and Matthew walked into the room.

“The men who were shot are here,” Matthew said to Carol, giving Ryan a scathing look. “Why did you lock the damn door?”

“For protection,” Ryan said as Carol's face grew hot with embarrassment. “In case North or his gang happened to break into the place.”

“The men who were shot?” Matthew reiterated. “Darien had to send some folks over to Doc Mitchell's place to care for the animals in his kennel until they can locate the vet. It's not like the doc to disappear without a word to anyone, especially when a lot of pets needed his care and no one was scheduled to take care of them in his absence.”

“He's got canine influenza,” Carol said finally. “Doc Weber does. The respiratory illness causes coughing, runny nose, and fever,” she added for Jake and Ryan's benefit. “We can medicate him, make sure he has plenty of fluids, and help him through this. If any of you don't know, the virus was first found in horses, but then it transferred to greyhounds. But it doesn't transfer to humans.”

She looked up at the men, her expression worried. “He could get pneumonia.”

Matthew frowned at her. “But that doesn't make any sense, since the canine virus doesn't transfer to humans. He was sick before he shifted.”

“The virus he has can't transfer to humans. I'm sure he had a human flu virus before the shift, but we don't have a blood test from him while he was human to prove it. If so, the virus he had before he shifted might not be one that can't transfer to canines.

“I believe what we have here is a novel virus. One that is an offshoot of another. Maybe. I don't know for sure. But the virus appears to affect the werewolf kind. This inability to shift back has to have something to do with the virus. Don't you think?”

Ryan nodded. “Sounds like that could be the case.”

“You haven't had any flu-like symptoms, have any of you?” she asked them.

Impressed at the logical way Carol dealt with a medical mystery, just like he would in a P.I. investigation, Ryan peered over her shoulder at the lab results.

“No. I think you might be right. Everyone in the pack needs to be warned not to shift if they can avoid it. Especially if there's any indication they're coming down with a bout of the flu. Hell, I need to notify my pack and my sister.”

He lifted his phone off his belt, hoping no one in Green Valley had been inflicted with the virus, if that's what it was. He called his sister first.

“Rosalind?”

“Well? Did you finally see the light with Carol?” She sounded like she knew he had, even before he told her so.

“Listen, we've got problems here.”

His sister remained silent. She knew that when his voice took on that dark tone, he meant business. “At least one of the people in Carol's pack has come down sick with something. A flu-like virus, it appears. It seems that if a person with this virus shifts into the wolf, he or she can't shape-shift back into human form.”

“You can't be serious!” Her voice was more than concerned.

“I
am
serious about this. I'll call my second in command, but I don't want you to be exposed to anyone until we can sort this out.”

“Ha! This is the biggest season for my nursery business, Ryan.”

“Rosalind.” He only had to say her name once for her to know how grave this was.

“All right,” she said tightly. “Carol discovered it, didn't she?”

He glanced at Carol. “Yeah, Carol's the one who discovered the sickness and the results.”

“Through her visions, right?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“Didn't I tell you so?”

“Yeah, so you've said already, and I've finally… well, hell, she's got really good hunches.” He gave Carol an elusive smile as she raised a brow at him.

“Not just hunches.”

“She's the real deal.” His voice turned more commanding. “Don't shift, all right?”

“All right already. I said I wouldn't.”

He let out his breath. “I've got to call my sub-leader.
I'll be home soon. Keep yourself isolated from the others. All right?”

“I will.”

“I'll call you when I know anything new.”

“Good luck, Ryan. She'll do it. She'll find a cure.”

“Now you can see the future?”

Silence. Then his sister said, “Yeah, just like I know that if you haven't taken her for your mate already, you will soon.”

“Bye, Rosalind.” He wasn't about to say anything to her about mating Carol while Jake and Matthew were listening in on the conversation. He clicked off the phone.

“Hunches, huh?” Carol asked Ryan.

“Yeah, damn good ones. It's going to take a while to get used to you knowing things before I do… in an unscientific way, but…” He shrugged, punched in another number, and said, “Granbury, it's McKinley. Find out who all in our pack might be sick with a flu-like virus. Upper respiratory ailments. Make sure you warn them not to shift. That has dire consequences.”

He looked over at Carol and found her observing him, a frown knitting her brow.

“They can't shift back if they turn into the wolf. I know it sounds crazy, but I've got an expert on the case. No one else who can help it should shift, either. But especially those with the flu.”

“Your administrative assistant was sick this morning.”

“Hell. Has she shifted?”

“Not that I know of. She called in sick today. I'll call her, and if I don't get an answer, I'll run by her place and warn her.”

“All right. Make sure she gets plenty of fluids. The
canine flu isn't supposed to transfer to humans, but the way this is affecting our people, we're not sure of the effects with the shift. I'll give you an update as soon as I can. And let me know what's going on with Ingrid.” He snapped his phone shut and put it away.

Carol gave Ryan a weary smile. “Thank you.”

“I'm sorry, Carol. I guess I was just too set in my ways before.”

Jake raised his brows when Carol looked at him. He was studying her way too much. His gaze shifted from her to Ryan.

She rose from the chair and headed for the stairs. “How are the wounded men doing?” she asked Matthew.

“They'll be fine. They're still in their wolf form. The bullets aren't silver. But the men lost some blood, and all three are sick with whatever Doc probably has. Three of them suffered hind leg wounds. One was hit in the rump,” Matthew said, leading the way up the stairs, Carol following behind. “If we could have found Doc Mitchell, he could have performed the surgery at his vet clinic.”

Ryan watched as Carol disappeared and then turned to see what Jake was doing in the staff lounge.

Jake glanced at the couch and drew closer. Then he bent over it and poked around. Hell. Jake pulled the silk bra out from between the back and seat cushions and took a deep breath. He shook his head and tossed the bra to Ryan.

“Looks like you two took the plunge.” He gave Ryan a dark smile. “About time. But Darien will not be pleased.”

Ryan tucked the incriminating evidence into his pocket. Carol would not be pleased to know Jake had
found her bra, and while he didn't like to keep secrets from his mate, he had no plans to tell her about this.

He took off for the stairs, and Jake followed him. As soon as Carol finished treating the injured men, Ryan had every intention of transporting her home. To his home. His bed. He had people who could keep her safe just like Darien did. Now she belonged to his pack, not Darien's. And if his own people could suffer the same trouble as Darien's, Ryan needed to be there for them. He rubbed his chin in thought. As long as she could do her research in Green Valley. He'd have to make sure she could.

After they arrived at the operating room, Jake and Ryan served as guards and waited inside by the door. While Matthew assisted, Carol removed the bullet from the first of the patients. Ryan admired Carol for her dedication to the patient's care. She worked efficiently with steady hands, her deportment self-assured. Matthew aided her, his expression one of deep admiration, as if he had every confidence in her abilities. When she stitched the man's wound closed, she looked as though she could work like this all night. She had to be tired, but she didn't let on.

“I keep telling you that you ought to be a doctor, Carol,” Matthew said. “Before Doc Weber arrived here, you'd removed how many bullets from pack members?”

“Three men wounded in that bank robbery. We heal faster, as long as the bullets aren't made of silver. Rifle bullets can do a lot of permanent damage to humans, but our bodies will heal from the injury, given time. So it's not the same.”

“You have the smarts and the skill to do it, Carol,” Matthew argued.

She might believe she wasn't capable of doing the job, but with her determination, Ryan thought differently. If she wanted further medical training, he'd back her all the way. But one thing was certain: his Green Valley pack needed a
lupus garou
who had the medical skills she did. He needed to arrange for a wolf doctor to start a clinic, and she could attend him. If she wanted further training after that, Ryan was all for it.

Matthew bound the man's injured leg, and then they moved on to the next man.

Avery.
Hell, he was sick now. And he'd danced with Carol. She'd been around Doc all day, too. Ryan had danced with Marilee, and she also was ill. He wondered how long the rest of them had before they shifted with no way to change back.

Ryan turned to Jake. “Where are Marilee and Becky now? They're both sick with this crud. If they've got it, we don't want them returning to their pack and carrying the virus there.”

“What if they brought it from their pack?” Jake jerked his phone out of its pouch and punched in a number. “Bertha? This is Jake. Marilee and Becky were staying at your bed and breakfast, right?” He frowned and then stared at Ryan. “Hell. All right. I'll tell Darien and give Ryan the word.”

Jake hung up and punched another button.

“Darien,” he sighed. “We've got more trouble.”