Wolf Undaunted

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Dave shrugged, his own expression puzzled.

“So what do we do with a ghost?” Ryder asked.

“An exorcism?” Hunter asked.

Ryder turned to his brother. “Since when do we do exorcisms?”

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything. I’ve never had a patient haunted by a ghost before.”

“You want to experiment?” Ryder asked in disbelief.

“No,” Zane said, shaking his head.

“Hell, yeah,” Hunter said.

“And how do you think you’ll sell that to Vivianne Marchetta?” Ryder asked, gesturing to the still-unconscious woman.

Hunter grimaced. “Good point. She’s already going to be pissed when she wakes up...” He brightened. “So why not give her something she can be really pissed about?”

“No,” Zane repeated, louder.

“Exorcisms work on demons, not ghosts,” Dave interjected, then shrugged. “I think.”

“How do we know this is really a ghost, and not a demon?” Hunter asked.

Zane put his hands on his hips. “Oh, come on. First I’m a hallucination, then a tumor, and now I’m a demon? I take offence to that.”

Dave’s lips quirked, then he met Hunter’s gaze. “He’s not a demon. He’s offended by the suggestion.”

“He? Who’s he?” Ryder asked.

“Good question,” Dave said, and arched an eyebrow. “Who are you?”

Zane sighed. “My name is Zane Wilder.”

“Zane Wilder?” Dave repeated. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“The Alpine guardian?” Ryder asked. “Wasn’t that the name of the guardian Lucien Marchetta killed?”

Dave glanced between Vivianne and Zane. “Interesting.”

“Stop saying that,” Zane muttered.

“A lycan?” Hunter asked, then chuckled. “Oh, man, a lycan haunting a vampire. That’s gold.”

“How does that happen?” Ryder asked. He frowned as he turned to the witch. “Dave?”

Dave tilted his head as he thought about it, then shrugged. “Yeah, I’m drawing a blank.” He glanced over at Zane. “Did you have a thing for Vivianne?”

Zane frowned. “No.”

“I mean, before you died?”

“No.”

“Were you both in some sort of relationship?”

“Hell, no. I’d never even met her. She’s a vamp, for crying out loud.”

“Huh.”

“What’s he saying?” Ryder asked.

“Uh, no,” Dave told them. His frown deepened. “Does she have something of yours? Maybe it’s not the woman you’ve attached to, but an object that she holds...?”

“Nope.”

“Then, how are you attached?”

“If I knew that, I would be able to unattach and get out of here.”

Dave sighed gruffly, then nodded to Hunter. “Wake her up.”

Hunter grimaced, and gently pressed his fingers to her temples.

Zane watched as Vivianne’s eyelids fluttered, then her eyes opened. He saw confusion, perhaps tinged with a little fear, and then the anger flared.

* * *

She was on her back, staring up at a group of men, with no recollection of how she got in this position.

And it freaked the crap out of her.

Eyes sparking red, she bared her teeth, and she welcomed the sharp sting of her incisors lengthening.

She swung her legs off the gurney, landing lightly on her feet. She glared at Hunter, then Ryder, and she hissed when she noticed the tall, muscular man with the dark sunglasses.

Zane braced his hand against the gurney, and shot her an expectant look. Damn it, she could still see him. Yet, the reason she was here, the current bane of her life, was not a face that caused her fear. In fact, seeing Zane came with a soft dose of reassurance. God, wasn’t that all kinds of sad.

“What the hell did you do to me?” She rasped at Hunter, her fists clenched as she started to slowly advance on him. The last thing she remembered was him asking her if she was ready for tests, and then boom—blackout.

Hunter Galen held up his hands, but didn’t retreat from her. “Whoa, lady prime, relax. I had to get you to completely relax so I could scan your mind.”

Her eyes rounded. “You knocked me out?”

Hunter shrugged, and she couldn’t help but notice he was not remorseful in the slightest. How the hell did someone—anyone—knock out a vampire prime so quickly, and so damn easily?

She was nine hundred years old. She’d honed the compulsion skills to a fine art, and had built her defenses so strongly that not even her older father could crack her mental barriers.

And this light warrior had tapped her on the forehead, and she was out like a light.

What had he seen in her mind? What secrets had she revealed to him, exposed to him? Damn it, she felt compromised. Violated. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pulled back to reveal her teeth.

He arched an eyebrow and held out his palm. A ball of liquid fire rolled and flared, hovering over his skin.

Vivianne flinched, springing away before she could control her reaction. Fire. One of nature’s weapons that a vampire couldn’t fight. And something that she feared beyond a reasonable self-preservation. Zane shifted in front of her, and the golden light dimmed a little.

“Hunter!” Ryder snapped. He flicked a spark that hit Hunter on his earlobe, and the light warrior jolted. The ball of fire dancing in his hand winked out.

Hunter frowned at his brother as he rubbed his ear. “Party pooper.”

Ryder shot him an exasperated glare, then turned to face Vivianne. “I know you’re pissed, but you want us to treat you, and this is the only way we can do it. Vampires, especially vampire primes, have natural shields that can prevent us from scanning, or even treating. You want to know why you’re seeing and hearing a lycan, this is how we figure it out.”

His words, uttered so calmly, so earnestly, gave her pause as the meaning sank in. “Did you?” she asked as she peered around Zane’s broad shoulders. “Figure it out?”

Ryder held up his hand, palm down, and dipped it side to side. “Sort of.”

Her shoulders sagged with disappointment. She could still see Zane. Hell, she was hiding behind the big lycan. She straightened her shoulders at that realization and stepped out to his side. She’d hoped Ryder would snap his fingers with an “Ah-hah!” and then follow it up with a temporary prescription to kill off her hallucinations. But now that there were two light warriors looking at her warily, a werewolf phantom who was still very much present, and a guy wearing motorcycle leathers and sunglasses—she frowned.

“Who are you?” she asked him. She’d seen him before, but couldn’t quite place him.

He pursed his lips. “Really? I’ve saved your life twice now.”

She arched an eyebrow.

“My name is Dave Carter, I’m the witch who put you under the suspension spell to stop the lycan toxin spreading your system. I’m also the witch who was there when you woke up, and fought with your brother to defend you against your father’s men.”

“You’re the one who put me in the coma?”

Dave gave her a courtly bow. “You’re welcome.”

“Then how do you explain him? Can you see him?” she asked, jerking her thumb in Zane’s direction. Zane frowned.

Dave shook his head. “I can only see him if I’m linked with you.”

Vivianne frowned. “Linked? What does that mean?”

“If I touch you, I can see him, hear him. If I’m not touching you, he’s gone.”

“He’s right here and can hear every damned word,” Zane growled.

Vivianne swallowed. He’d been touching her when she was unconscious. Her hands curled into fists, and Dave held up a finger.

“Don’t. I’m not a sleaze. For this, think of me like you would a doctor.”

“You’re not a doctor,” Ryder and Hunter chorused.

“A magical doctor. Whatever. What do you remember of the night you were bitten?”

The change of topic caught Vivianne off guard, and she blinked. “Uh, pain,” she said instinctively. Zane looked at her, an understanding in his eyes. He’d “visited” her last nightmare. He’d seen her memory on replay—although there were some bits that were more of a fantasy than a memory.

Oh, God, no. Not a fantasy. That would imply she’d wanted him to kiss her, that she’d been harboring some secret desire for the damn werewolf. Ugh. No. Not that.

Although, he was a good kisser. In her dreams, anyway. Better than good, actually. Pretty damn fantastic—damn it, there was that word again. She was not crushing on the lycan. Her father would disown her. Her colony would spurn her.

“It was pretty sudden.” She hurried on, hoping that Hunter didn’t still have some backdoor access to her mind and see her mentally fumbling about over Zane. “Black wolf, bounding out of the darkness, fangs. Pain. Then pretty much nothing.”

Dave folded his arms, and his leather jacket creaked with the movement. “Do you remember anything about visiting the Woodland pack?”