Protecting the Wolf's Mate (Blood Moon Brotherhood) Page 13

  “Blood, DNA samples, some of the bone fragments.” He broke off.

  “You don’t want to tell me this?” She shifted in the chair, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Almost as if she were pulling into herself. “Because you don’t trust me?”

  “What weapons?” he repeated his earlier question—and avoided answering hers.

  He hadn’t been prepared for her answer. But why was he surprised. At every turn, Cyrus had proven again and again that he was a monster. What she told him turned his blood cold. Injecting silver and cyanide into the bloodstream? Cyrus didn’t just want to wipe out their pack, he wanted to torture them.

  “May I see the bone?” There was almost a reverence to her voice.

  He nodded. “Why?”

  She rested her chin on her knees. “I have no memory of where I came from or who my pack was. I know it’s unlikely this bone will change that, but still, it is a part of our species. Which makes it a part of my history, too.” Her gaze locked with his. “Is it wrong to want to know who I am?”

  “No. Not at all.” He couldn’t imagine it. His upbringing was nothing out of the ordinary, but it stitched together who he was. “If you share what you do remember, we might be able to find some clues.”

  “It’s my turn to ask why,” she whispered. “Why do you want to help me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” His irritation returned. “No matter what you think, we’re not enemies. You’ve become part of the pack—one more reluctant member.” But there was more to it than that. Whether she was significant to the pack or not, she was to him. Each day, another thread seemed to tie them together. It was unnerving as hell.

  “You know packs don’t work that way, Hollis. I’m simply a guest who’s stayed too long.” She paused, chewing her lower lip. “Is it my turn?”

  Her quick dismissal stung. While he was trying to make sense of the hold she had on him, she seemed completely unaffected by him. Save attraction. She wanted his body—but not him. His thirst for knowledge took a nosedive. “I’m not sure.”

  “Then it’s my turn.” She smiled. “If you want me in your pack, why not take me to bed?”

  His almost abated erection stirred. Damn her. He shook his head, his frustration bubbling up. Now that she’d figured out she was his weakness, she’d be more exhausting than ever.

  She nudged his knee with her bare toes. “Don’t go mute now.”

  “I told you to pick a different topic.” He glared at her. From the sultry rasp of her voice to the open invitation in her eyes, she was playing with fire. Surely she knew that.

  “You wear anger well.” Her foot slid into his lap.

  He stared down at her foot. Even covered in tiny scars, her skin was silk under his fingers. When she flexed, the bones of her ankle and foot seemed fragile. But a fragile person wouldn’t have survived the abuse she’d experienced. She knew what pain was—suffered God knows what. An uneven scar ran along the outside of her calf. His thumb smoothed the raised white line. “Who did this to you?”

  She would have snatched her foot away if he hadn’t held it in his lap.

  “It’s my turn. Tell me.” The words tore from his chest, broken and raw and furious.

  “Let go.” Gone was the playful teasing. In its place was brittle fury.

  “Cyrus?” he pushed. “Byron. Who?”

  She tried to pull away again, but he held tight. “Let me go, Hollis.” Her voice wavered.

  “You wanted to play this game. Answer me.” He knew he should stop. There was panic in her eyes…and pain. But the roar of blood in his ears and a veil of red clouded his vision. All that mattered was her answer. He had to know, had to act. “Tell me, Ellen, so I can kill him.”

  Ellen froze, her gaze locking with his. Her forehead creased. A deep, unsteady breath spilled into the quiet of the cabin. “Would you?” she whispered.

  He let go of her ankle then, shame burning his palm—and pressing in on his chest. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t want to restrain her or put pain or fear in her eyes. He would have pushed out of the chair if she hadn’t climbed into his lap.

  Her head fit against his shoulder, the short wisps of her silken black hair brushing his chin. She pressed as close as possible, twisting until the beat of her heart thudded against his chest, against his own heart. The tip of her nose brushed his throat as she sighed. His arms wrapped around her. This was right. It soothed him to hold her.

  And scared the shit out of him.

  “You make me lose control,” he murmured against her temple.

  “You can lose control with me,” she whispered, burying her face against the side of his neck.

  …

  Ellen stared around the lab, shock and awe rendering her speechless. If Finn and Hollis used their money on things like weapons and defense instead of planes and vaccines, the Others wouldn’t stand a chance. How could Cyrus compete with such resources?

  “You could defeat them,” she said.

  Hollis glanced up from the chart he was reading aloud to her. “What?”

  “Look around you. Think of the weapons you could create, the men you could hire to hunt them. Your pack would be unstoppable.” She stared at him, saw the confusion on his face and tried again. “I understand you do important work here.” She took the chart form him, scanning over the pages and pages of charts and numbers that made her head spin. “I would never ask you to give that up. But defeat the Others and you can come back to it, Hollis. Once they are gone, there is nothing to stop you from doing what you want.” She sighed, shaking her head. “You disappoint me.”

  He sat on the stool at her side, taking the file from her hand. “Because I’d rather cure—”

  “You think they will leave you alone when this is cured? That he’ll care you’re no longer wolves?” She frowned. “You’re not a stupid man, Hollis. Think.”

  He frowned back at her. “What threat would we be to him then?”

  “You’d know he existed—that this world existed. And you’d have beaten him, by surviving and escaping.” She touched his cheek. Her wolf loved touching him. “He’ll never let you live. Once you’re cured, you’ll be that much easier to kill.” Didn’t he understand? They could stop this. “Once he is gone, your lives—as wolves—would be forever changed. There would be nothing to run from, Hollis. You and your pack would be safe. This cure won’t save your pack. Only killing Cyrus can do that.”

  His hand covered hers. Those green-green eyes searched hers until her body thrummed with need.

  “Dr. Robbins?” A woman in a white lab coat came in, carrying a stack of files and papers. “You wanted the latest results.” She paused, watching Ellen as she pulled away from Hollis’s touch.

  The way the woman looked at Hollis made her wolf bristle. And that the human dared to look her up and down? Her wolf longed to put the woman in her place. Her hands fisted at her side as she stared at the woman. But Hollis clasped her wrist, his tone calm as he murmured, “Thank you, Kim. You can leave them on my desk.”

  Kim glanced between them with a nod, then left them.

  “Kim should learn her place,” she snapped.

  “She’s my administrative assistant,” Hollis explained. “That is her place. Here, in the lab.”

  “I don’t like her,” she pushed, tugging her arm from his.

  Hollis’s chuckle surprised her. “She’s very capable.” His casual declaration made her temper flare.

  “How nice for you.” Why was she reacting this way? The woman was weak, vulnerable, and unaware of their world. Hollis didn’t look at Kim the way he looked at her—he didn’t burn for her.

  But perhaps Hollis wanted that. Someone who wasn’t her. If he did cure them, he could live a normal human life with someone capable and pretty, like Kim. “Perhaps I should go to the hotel while you finish your work here.” She wrapped her arms around her waist.

  “Is that what you want?” he asked, sliding off the stool and standing bef
ore her. “All of these resources available to you and you’d rather sit at my place?”

  “Hotel. You live in a hotel.” She’d never heard of such a thing. A hotel was a luxury, not a lifestyle. “I don’t understand you at all.”

  “It’s convenient for my hectic lifestyle.” His gaze was fixed on her. “You don’t want to stay?”

  “I never wanted to come,” she reminded him, hearing the petulance in her voice and hating it. How could she explain how out of her element she felt? Vulnerability was a weakness she refused to entertain. “This world is not mine.”

  He studied her. “You wanted to see the bone.”

  She stared at him. “The bone? The bone. It’s here?”

  He pulled a key-card from his pocket and led her to a door in the far wall of the lab. “Through here,” he said, inserting the key-card, then punching in the code to open the door. “All of my unconventional research is kept in the vault.”

  “Unconventional?” she asked, following him through the door. She stopped inside, the hum of energy that greeted her unexpected.

  “Things no one else has access to. I’ve been collecting items since we were changed,” he said, flipping on the muted overhead lighting. “Some of the artifacts are quite old.”

  The ground seemed to sway under her feet. A low vibration began on the soles of her feet, shimmied up her legs, past her knees, and settled into her torso. She pressed herself against the wall at her back, fighting back the panic that sank deep into her stomach. Closing her eyes didn’t help as much as she’d like, but the room was no longer spinning. The sound was still there—a noise that made her head ache and her teeth chatter.

  “Hollis?” Her voice shook.

  Hollis’s hands gripped her upper arms. Warm. Steady. Keeping her upright when she would have easily slid to the floor. She stepped forward, sliding her arms around him and allowing his heat to warm her through.

  “Talk to me,” he murmured against her temple.

  “Noise. Dizzy.” She swallowed. “Too much.”

  He opened the door and dragged her back out. “Sit,” he said, gently pushing her down into a large, leather office chair. “I’ll get you some water.”

  She rested her head on the chairback and waited, breathing easier as the sensations slowly ebbed. Sweat dripped down her back, pearled on her upper lip, and made her palms clammy.

  “Here,” he said, placing a tall glass in front of her.

  She drank it all down, taking the wet paper towels he offered to cool her heated skin.

  “What was that?” He pulled a chair close to hers, then sat, facing her.

  What should she tell him?

  “Whatever you tell me stays between us,” he said, taking her hand.

  “Finn is your Alpha.” Her voice wobbled.

  He smoothed the plastered strands of hair from her face. “He’s never used that against me, never demanded I tell him something. There’s no reason that would change now.” He leaned forward, tilting her face so he could examine her. “Your eyes are dilated. You’re pale. Accelerated heartbeat and respirations. You were like this before, in the clearing.”

  “Not like this,” she argued. “I’ve never experienced anything like this.”

  “You see things?” he asked, softly.

  She nodded.

  “Through touch?” he asked.

  “Yes. Normally. But I didn’t touch anything just then,” she argued, the panic crushing in on her. Even her wolf was unsettled. “I couldn’t see or hear beyond the noise. The room was moving.”

  “What noise? What did you hear?” he asked.

  “Voices. Sounds. A crowded room.” She gripped her head in her hands, pressing. “It hurt.”

  “How does it normally work?” he asked.

  “I touch them—read them, their thoughts and memories, experiences and conversations.” She looked at him, almost nervous. Only Cyrus knew. It was one of the reasons she was still alive. How would her revelation impact Hollis?

  “People only?” he asked. “Never an object?”

  She shook her head. “Objects, yes. Personal items—handmade or…or a journal. An object that has captured the essence of a person. A book. A knife. Important to a person or ritual. Magical items. I’ve dreamed of others. A necklace once. It was important to me.”

  He sat back, still studying her. “The items in that room? They’re speaking to you.”

  She stared at him, far too unsettled for her liking. “That’s never happened before. I have to touch and concentrate. This…this was too much.” Her stomach churned, a powerful thud setting in at the base of her skull. What would she find in that room? Did she want to know? “I…I want to leave.”

  “You could help me understand things I’ve been researching for years,” he murmured. “Things beyond science. Things that could help the pack.”

  “The pack? Or your cure?” She sat back in her chair, mimicking his posture.

  He blew out a slow breath. “One doesn’t forgo the other.”

  “I won’t help you eradicate what I am.” Exhaustion made arguing pointless. “I can’t go back in that room.”

  “I could bring items to you—one at a time?” he asked. “You want to know what happened just now, what it means.”

  “Do I?”

  He nodded and pushed out of his chair. He returned seconds later, her water glass refilled. “Tell me about the necklace. Who did it belong to?”

  She took a sip, her gaze falling from his. “My pack. The women of my pack. It was a record of our lineage, a badge of pride, really.” She smiled. “A bead for each child birthed. We were a mighty pack.” She ran her fingers along the invisible necklace, remembering the weight and texture of each stone. “Faces, names, fragments of time. Lost to me now.” Smiling children. Tiny babies. Her baby. Her heart twisted sharply. “The necklace—and the memories. So faint now.” She would never forget her daughter. Never.

  “What happened to your pack?” he asked.

  “That’s when this happened.” She pressed a hand against her scar. “I can’t know for sure, but Cyrus was there.” Her finger traced the rim of the cup. “He’s taken everything that mattered from me. Everything.” She welcomed the fury, preferring the familiar heat. Whatever was in that room was powerful, drowning her in unease. The glass in her hands trembled.

  Hollis took the cup from her and placed it on the desk. He cradled her hands in his. Staring at them with such intensity, Ellen held her breath.

  “I have questions I want to ask you,” he murmured. “So many things I want to know.” His green gaze met hers. “But I don’t want to cause you pain.”

  She swallowed back the hostile retort that instantly sprang to her lips. It was a survival skill—deflect and minimize. But this was Hollis. His concern was sincere. And knowing that, seeing that, had a powerful effect on her. Her hands itched to touch him, to read his thoughts for more. He was so like her, so guarded and wary. Opening up wasn’t easy for either of them.

  Still, she needed to try. Her wolf needed it. “I’m used to pain, Hollis. It’s kept me alive for so long I wouldn’t know how to exist without it.”

  His brow furrowed. “That’s not living.” His hands tightened around hers. “You’ve seen things, know things, I never will. Dark things. Evil things.” He cleared his throat. “That is why I refuse to accept this world. Help me to understand why preserving this life is so important to you.” There was an edge to his words. Desperation. Anger. The promise of so much more.

  The longer his green gaze locked with hers, the harder it was to breathe. “Why, Hollis? What difference does it make to you?”

  Chapter Twelve

  He forced the words out. “Maybe you’re right,” he ground out. “About a wolf.” He cleared his throat. “Having a wolf.” It was the only way to explain what was happening to him. Too many times his control had slipped away from him—with her. This was the only thing that made sense. That what was happening between them made sense. And it scared t
he shit out of him.

  She searched his face. “And you want to understand him?”

  That was part of it. A small part of it. But it was the easiest place to start. It would be better to keep this as straightforward as possible. For both of them. “Yes,” he ground out.

  Her gaze swept the laboratory. “Before you try to wipe him out?” she whispered. “So you can take notes, complete spreadsheets, and draw your conclusions prior to cutting out half of what you are? You’ve been so careful to keep him locked up inside, now you want me to help you draw him out? Why?”

  Frustration rose up. “What choice do I have? Do I want to be a fucking monster? Hell, no. None of us do.” He looked at her, holding nothing back. “But the antidote development is going nowhere. If I can’t cure us, the only other option I have is protecting them.”

  She stared at him, silent for a long time.

  “You could help me—”

  “Help you? Is that why you brought me here? To test your antigen on me? To cure me?” Her words were flat. “If it kills me, at least I’d die for something you believe in.” She frowned up at him. “Versus something worth dying for.”

  “You can’t believe that?” The vein in his head throbbed, tightening. “You don’t believe that?”

  “No?” she asked.

  “You are too important to me.” What the fuck did that mean? He wasn’t sure. And, the look on her face, told him she wasn’t happy with his response, either.

  Her brows rose. “Because I have answers you want,” she whispered, pulling her hands from him.

  “Yes, you know things I don’t. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that doesn’t matter. It does.” He cleared his throat. “It’s more. And you know it. You feel it. I’m supposed to happy about the connection that’s forming between us? That having a weakness is okay?” he countered, refusing to give in to her. This was ridiculous. He would keep on fighting, for both their sakes. Even if she didn’t approve.

  “I am not your weakness.” Her eyes narrowed. “You fight what you are. You deny your instincts and your power. That is your weakness. What is between us would make both of us stronger.”