Wolf Whisperer. Karen Whiddon

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      “Why?” he asked. “From what I’ve seen of you, you seem to operate on hunches and supposition. Kidnapping someone really isn’t the sort of thing we do.”

      “Maybe not now. But I know differently. Think about what your organization was less than a year ago. Protectors were nothing more than paid assassins. They exterminated anyone who didn’t conform to a predetermined set of narrow rules. They were corrupt through and through. So don’t tell me it’s not possible.”

      He bowed his head. “True. But those individuals and their followers are all gone. They’ve been punished. Things are different now.” Taking a deep breath, he watched her, no doubt waiting for her to speak. When she did not, he continued as if she had.

      “You speak of us with such rancor.” Watching her the way a wolf keeps an eye on a sunning snake, he grimaced. “Since you feel that way, why did you save me? I’m a Protector. My loyalty is with them.”

      “Still? Surely after this, you must have doubts.”

      “Why would I?” He spread his hands. “You’ve given me no proof, no evidence. You were attacked and we both were shot. That’s all we know.”

      He had a point. All she had were her hunches and, while they were rarely wrong, she had no proof.

      “Furthermore, why do you want me to go with you? You don’t know me. If you don’t trust them, you shouldn’t trust me, either.”

      As if she had a choice. One impetuous act, and here they were. Stuck together for the rest of their natural lives. Only he didn’t know that yet.

      With a sigh, she realized she’d have to tell him the rest of it. “Let me try to explain. As I told you, you’re under my protection now. Now that we’ve said the words and completed the ritual, we’re bound together. This is not something I take lightly.”

      “Bound together? For how long?”

      “For a while,” she said vaguely, aware he’d probably press for more details. How could she tell him that they were, theoretically, bound together for the rest of their lives? Did he really need to know that in her world, a Tearlach spoke those words only once? To the one who would be their true mate? Not just to some random stranger, no matter how beautiful he might be.

      Oh, what a horrible mistake she’d made. Still, when she imagined him lying dead in a pool of blood, she knew she’d do the same thing again.

      Apparently, her words were enough to make him suspicious. “Why do I get the feeling that there’s a lot you’re not telling me? You’re feeding me bits and pieces of the story. I need you to spit it all out. I’m listening.”

      “I’m not ready to do that yet.” She met his gaze, being as honest as she could. “Sorry.”

      “Then give me back my phone.”

      Stubborn man. If she had an ounce of sense, she’d hand him back the pieces of his cell and send him on his way before either one of them got hurt.

      But she couldn’t. That was the crux of it. She flat-out had no choice. He didn’t have a choice, either. If he wanted to pretend he did, that was up to him. He’d find out the truth sooner or later.

      “I’m not giving you back your phone. I’ve already destroyed it. Look, we’re bound together, you and I. Like it or not. I said the words, saved your life, and there’s a debt to be paid.”

      As they locked eyes, something clicked in his gaze and she knew he had begun to understand.

      Dipping his chin, he finally acknowledged the truth of her statement. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ll go with you. I do owe you for my life, and I always repay my debts.”

      Honor, she thought sardonically. Rare among shifters these days. As if he truly had a choice. Careful not to show any emotion, she nodded. “Thanks.”

      “Hold on.” His smile contained a hint of mockery. “I’m not finished. I’ll go with you, but in return, you have to promise me one thing.”

      She crossed her arms. “Go ahead.”

      “If on the chance you’re wrong and the Protectors are not behind this, will you agree to at least talk to them?”

      She considered. “Maybe.”

      Immediately, he shook his head. “That’s not good enough.”

      Hiding a smile, she finally nodded. “Fine. If you’re wrong and can prove it, I’ll talk to them. No promises beyond that.”

      With that, he seemed satisfied. “All right, then. It’s settled. Where are we going and when do we leave?”

      “As soon as you’re well enough.” She glanced at her watch. “I want to make sure you’re all healed. Maybe a few more hours, maybe tomorrow. We’ll have to take the house dogs to a friend in town.”

      He nodded, then shoved aside the sheet and swung his muscular legs to the side. Pushing to his feet, he waved away her clumsy attempt to offer support.

      “I’ve got it.” Swaying slightly, he looked like a sailor trying to find balance during rough seas. Jaw clenched, he grabbed the side of the futon and, using it to steady himself, took a tentative step forward.

      Then another. When he looked at Kelly, grinning, she felt an odd knot in her chest.

      “I did it,” he said, sounding triumphant. “I’m good to go.” His smile widened as he examined the shrinking patch of skin where the bullet wound had been. “This is freakin’ amazing. You can’t even tell I’ve been shot.”

      Such was the blessing—or the curse—of being protected by a Tearlach.

      While she was pondering this, Mac disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

      As the day moved on, his strength improved. At lunchtime, he was starving, eating three sandwiches and an entire bowl of chips, plus an apple and two pickles.

      “You look good.” She gave him the honest compliment. “But you’re not fully healed yet. Rest, if you can. We’ve got a long trip tomorrow.”

      He smiled wryly. “Yes, Nurse Kelly. Whatever you say.”

      At that, she couldn’t help but laugh.

      “You’re right, I need to lie down,” he said. When she nodded, he went straight for the futon, her pit bull Brandi settling on the floor at his side. Closing his eyes, just like that, he fell asleep.

      She watched him doze, unable to help herself. Whatever force that drew her to him tormented her, making her want to climb up on the futon and curl into his side. She restrained herself, just barely, and kept one eye on the time.

      An hour later, the sun had begun to travel toward the horizon and he woke up. It was time to go.

      Crossing to his side, she rubbed Brandi’s head lightly before scowling at him. It occurred to her that her best armor might be an unpleasant attitude and she tested that now.

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