The Wolf Siren

He put on a CD of old-school country music classics, believing that even the most die-hard introvert couldn’t sit quietly through Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, and Dolly Parton.

Eventually, even though she never looked directly at him, she began tapping her foot, proving him right.

Good. An outward sign she was finally relaxing.

Again she glanced sideways at him, and then looked away without speaking. He didn’t ask her if she had a question or needed something. Not yet. Since it would be a long drive cross-country from Seattle to upstate New York, he had the luxury of taking things slow.

Her stomach rumbled, causing her to flush red.

“Are you hungry?” he asked quietly.

“I could eat,” she admitted, careful to keep her eyes firmly fixed on the passing terrain. “What did you have in mind?”

An image flashed before him. He saw himself, as vividly as if it were happening, slanting his lips over hers, plundering her mouth with his tongue.

Swallowing hard, he blinked to dispel the picture. “How about a burger?” he managed. “I’m sure we can find a fast-food place.”

She made a noncommittal sound that he chose to take as agreement. He stifled the urge to smile. After speaking to Lucas and agreeing to help, Kane hadn’t been sure what to expect. While he knew Lilly was emotionally and physically fragile, he hadn’t realized he’d have to continually fight the urge to pull her into his arms and swear to her he’d give his life to keep her safe.

This was a given, even though she didn’t realize it yet. Maybe she never would. None of that mattered. She was his to protect, no matter the cost. As a Pack Protector, recruited at an early age, he always took his duties seriously. Even in his real job as a veterinarian, he considered himself dedicated. His clients and their pets—his patients—loved him for it. They’d even understood when he’d taken a leave of absence from the veterinary clinic to help Lucas protect Lilly.

“How often do you shape-shift?” Though she asked the question casually, the intent way she fixed her sky-blue eyes on him told Kane it was important.

Since he knew she wanted him to think it wasn’t, he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “As often as I can. How about you?”

“I’m the opposite. I’d be happiest if I could figure out a way to never shift again.”

He’d expected this. Lucas had mentioned that Lilly had issues with shape-shifting. After what she’d been through, Kane could well imagine.

“There.” She pointed at a sign for a well-known fast-food restaurant. Obliging her, he took the next exit and parked close to the entrance.

Her question pleased him. It showed a bit of natural curiosity, a spark of life, a quality he’d feared he’d have to help Lilly completely rebuild.

After they’d both eaten and freshened up, they got back on the road. Kane had barely driven thirty miles before Lilly fell asleep again. Eyeing her, he couldn’t resist a smile.

She slept well for several hours. A good, clean rest, he thought. She didn’t appear to suffer from nightmares or even dreams. Apparently she had no bad associations from riding in a car.

He drove until dusk, then a bit farther. His neck hurt, his hands were stiff from gripping the wheel and he needed to stretch his legs. In the passenger seat, Lilly had begun to stir, blinking sleepily and looking around her with the barely awake curiosity of the truly innocent.

“Where are we?” she finally asked, her voice rusty.

“Nearly to Billings, Montana. We’re going to stop in a little bit.”

“Okay.”

Relief flooded him, though he was careful not to show it. Driving so long with only his own thoughts had made him wonder how she would do in a hotel room alone with him. He’d calculated they’d need to stop three times and they’d have to share a room each time. No way was he letting her out of his sight, not even to sleep. While he’d make sure they’d have separate beds, she’d be spending the darkest part of the night with a virtual stranger. Apparently, she wasn’t concerned, which was much better than he’d expected. He nearly smiled at her. Only the notion that it would probably scare her kept his face expressionless.

With classic country music wailing away in the background, they continued on. He pulled off I-90 in Billings, figuring ten hours on the road was enough for the first day. Truth be told, since Lilly had slept for several hours, he could have gone farther, but having recently made the trip from Texas to Seattle, all that driving had begun to catch up with him and he needed to rest.

After stopping in the office and paying for one night, he returned to the car holding the plastic key card. They drove around to the back side of the building, looking for Room 149. Parking in front, he glanced again at Lilly and then killed the car engine. The exterior of the hotel appeared a bit shabby, but hopefully the rooms would be clean. He slid his key into the sensor and opened the door. Lilly drifted along behind him like a ghost.

Kane turned on the lights, inhaling the slightly musty scent, and looked around. Two beds, check. Worn carpet that had seen better days. But a working window air conditioner. The bathroom was large and had obviously been redone. There were four white towels, a bit thin but clean and serviceable. Exactly what he expected to find for thirty-nine dollars a night.

“After you,” he told Lilly, gesturing toward the bathroom. “I don’t know about you, but a hot shower would feel really good right now.”

Though she dipped her chin to acknowledge him, she didn’t comment. Instead, carrying her overnight bag, she brushed past him and closed the bathroom door behind her. A moment later, he heard the shower start. When he did, something that had been clenched inside of him relaxed. Odd, but he hadn’t even realized he’d been so tense.

He took to roaming the room, stopping occasionally at the single window and peering out through the middle of the closed curtains. Not that he expected to see anything—he was 100 percent certain they hadn’t been followed—but old habits were hard to break. Plus, during his twice-yearly stints working for the Protectors, he’d come to appreciate the value of being overly vigilant.

The shower cut off, drawing his attention to the closed bathroom door. Though he knew it might be a bit of a cliché, he was a man and couldn’t help but picture her reaching for a towel, her pale and creamy skin glistening with water.

A few minutes later, she emerged, a towel piled high on her head. Her long legs were bare under a soft black T-shirt that skimmed her knees. She barely glanced at him, claiming the bed farthest from the door. He watched her pull the ugly, patterned bedspread down and fold it neatly, before she slid under the worn sheets.

“Here,” he said, tossing the television remote on the bed near her. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Still keeping her profile averted, she ignored him.

Since he could well understand her nerves, he moved past her, careful to act as if everything was perfectly ordinary. He hoped she’d be able to relax once he closed himself in the bathroom. Maybe find something banal on television to help lull herself back to sleep.

The hot, as close to scalding as he could stand, shower improved his mood 100 percent. He dried off, dressing in loose gym shorts and an old T-shirt even though he preferred to sleep naked. After brushing his teeth, he opened the door, listening for the sound of the TV. Instead, only silence greeted him. Not completely unsurprised, he saw she hadn’t turned it on. Instead, she lay curled into a ball, her long lashes fanning the curve of her cheek. She didn’t move as he quietly approached her, though he could tell from the uneven rise and fall of her chest that she only pretended sleep. Even so, she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Then, while he stood drinking in the sight of her, she began trembling. A horrible, violent shivering, reminding him where she’d been and what a man looming over her bed most likely meant to her.

Horrified, he stepped back. His inner wolf snarled, evidently unsettled by the sudden, sharp ache just below his heart. Moving carefully, he crossed over to his own bed and pulled back the covers. A quick glance over his shoulder at her revealed her shaking hadn’t abated in the slightest. Poor Lilly was clearly terrified.

His chest tight, he considered his options. Deciding, he snagged his car keys from the dresser. “Be right back,” he murmured, even though he knew she wouldn’t acknowledge his words.

Unlocking his car, he reached into the backseat and retrieved his battered guitar case. While he was out there, he did a quick scope of the parking lot, reassured by the emptiness of the well-lit area. Even the highway seemed quiet. Not a lot of activity on I-90 near Billings at night.

Back inside the room, he bolted the door behind him. Lilly continued to lie in the same position, her slender body still wracked by shudders. Cursing under his breath, he sat down on the edge of his bed and fumbled with the latches on his case, careful not to look too long at her.

Once he had the old acoustic guitar out, he considered. He needed something soothing, not the rollicking bluesy-country music he generally favored. His entire family played one instrument or another. One of the first things he’d learned on the guitar was the old Beatles song “Let It Be.” Perfect.

She gave a reflexive jerk of her shoulders when he strummed the first chord. Ignoring this, he continued softly playing, singing the words in his low voice. While he sang, his wolf tried to sense hers. So far, even though such a thing was common among Shape-shifters, he hadn’t been able to do this with her, not even the most minute fraction of contact. Kane couldn’t understand why her wolf seemed to be locked away most of the time, though he guessed this was the result of the torture and experiments she’d suffered while locked away in the basement of Sanctuary. He had hopes that eventually, with the passage of time, she’d be able to return to a semblance of normalcy.

So he continued to play music for her, and for her wolf. He’d learned music not only calmed the savage beast, but provided a soothing balm to troubled souls.

Gradually, her trembling appeared to lessen. Encouraged, he began another song. This time the old Bob Dylan tune “Blowing in the Wind.” Though several artists had done covers of this song, in Kane’s head he always heard Bob Dylan’s gravelly voice. Kane knew all the words to this one, too, and he sang with his heart, quietly paying homage to a beautiful woman who should never have had to endure what she had.

Midway through this second song, Lilly opened her eyes. She turned her head and, after a moment of silent scrutiny, she pushed up on one elbow to watch him.

Progress. He barely managed to suppress an encouraging smile. Instead, pretending not to notice, he launched into some old Judy Collins, refusing to reflect on how every soothing song he could think of was from four or five decades ago. What could he say? He’d always liked oldies.

Once the last notes of the music died away, he placed the guitar on the chair next to his bed. “Good night,” he told her, inclining his head in a sort of salute before reaching up and quickly extinguishing the light.

As he lay in the darkness, his heart inexplicably pounding in his chest, with his wolf wanting to howl mournfully, he listened. The faint sounds of the nearby interstate were muted, and the rest of the motel was quiet. But these things barely registered in his consciousness, because he attuned every fiber of his being to hearing her.

At first, there was nothing, as if she was frozen in place. But then Lilly must have accepted the need to sleep or resigned herself to the inevitable. He heard the slight rustle of her sheets as she tried to make herself comfortable, the soft sigh that escaped her lips. And finally, her breathing slowed, became even and deep.