Page 47

I scratched his ears, willing him to wellness and healing, begging him to survive. A burst of wind moved through surgery and stirred the hair at the nape of my neck. Colors circled my torso, down my arm, and into the cat, fluffing his shaggy fur. What must have been my shifter magic poured into Sully-Boy as the audible heart monitor tone grew stronger and more even.

A thrill slid through me. I’d drawn on my power, and I’d healed him, at least to some degree. Ducking my face away from Shannon, I bit back the threatening smile. How many more could I save? Like this? Just this way?

“What did you do?” Shannon said, her voice muffled behind her mask.

Riley’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “His name should be Lucky.”

“Let’s X-ray him again,” I said. “I’m not sure those first images were clear enough.”

Shannon shot me a questioning look. She knew it was a bogus reason. She was great at getting clear images. Still, she moved the imaging machine into place. A minute later, the X-rays populated on the digital board. No fractures, no punctures, and the tooth at the base of his tail had disappeared.

Shannon and Riley both gasped before pivoting toward me as though I had all the answers in the universe.

Sorry to disappoint, ladies. All I’ve got are secrets and a complicated life.

“I don’t think we’ll have to operate,” I said. “Could you get Sully settled in recovery?”

“Sure,” Shannon said.

Riley slipped out.

I strode into the waiting room.

Callie jumped to her feet. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s going to be fine,” I said. “We’ll keep him for observation, and you can pick him up at the end of the day. Maybe after school?”

Callie clapped her hands and danced in place.

“That sounds great,” Sheila said, nudging her daughter. “Speaking of school, we could still get you there on time. Maybe only miss a few minutesof first period?”

“Aw, Mom. Do I have to?”

“Yeah, you have to. Stay busy, and your day will go by more quickly anyway.”

After Sheila and Callie had gone, a tall, clean-shaven man strode in like he owned the place, each strand of his sandy blond hair finger-brushed into place. He wore a dark polo, and khaki slacks hugged his trim waist. “I’d like to speak to Emma Carter.”

I studied him a long moment, taking in the lack of pet hair on him and the rigid way he held himself. “I’m Dr. Emma Carter.”

“My name is Marcus Steele.”

“I’ve heard of you.” My mouth dried.

His had been the name mentioned after Olivia had morphed in the dining room to prove that shifting was real. Where Logan was dark and rugged, Marcus was much fairer and more svelte.

“How did you find me?” I asked.

“A few little birds told me where you lived,” he answered with a smile that didn’t make him seem at all pleasant, only calculating. “You should be more aware of your surroundings, Dr. Carter. We wouldn’t want someone as important as you to disappear, now, would we?”

My eyes widened. Little birds?Holy shit.Those had been ravens in the trees when I’d left Logan’s. They had been spies, and they must have followed me home. He had to have been watching my practice to sense the healing magic.

I lifted my chin. “Are you threatening me, sir?”

“No, certainly not. It’s a comment on your value to the packs. I’d like to offer our protection to you.”

“Your protection?”

“Ville Platte Cats,” he said. “You belong in our clan, and I will not take your rejection as your answer.”