Page 17 of The Healer (The Blood of Legends #2)

Chapter Seventeen

BEAR-ASS

“R hys!” Lona hovered at the entrance of the bar.

Silence descended with the patrons turning as one to peer at Rhys.

He admired her in the wall mirror, free to do so without being obvious. The urge to spin on his stool to watch her march toward him gripped him. He tamped it down while he fought his vocal bear. She was taller than Callie. Not something he noticed before. Lona fit him well, though. His arms recalled the weight of her filling them. The tips of her braids brushed each shoulder

He shifted on his seat, hoping to ease the burn of desire pooling in his loins. But he didn’t look away.

Meeting his gaze in the mirror, Ilona strode toward him with enough malevolence to raise the hairs on the back of his neck. She challenged his alpha, and the excitement skittering along his nerves meant he liked it. Her actions gave him a semi hard-on. He didn’t bother to hide his ‘growing’ interest. Instead, he smirked into his beer.

With small towns, she would’ve heard about his interest in her if this morning’s intrusion into her room hadn’t enlightened her. He remained relaxed despite his eagerness. His senses tuned into her approaching steps, the softness of her breathing, and a deep inhale that screamed her human genetics.

“I hear you’re asking about Devereaux?” Her voice was raw, husky, and his bear roared a greeting.

Last night, the pitch had been higher in her distress, and this morning, he had thought she was hoarse from sleep.

Fuck. He tightened his grip on the bottle, almost to breaking point. Make that a full hard-on. With a voice that sexy, distinguishable, as he thrust into her, he would never call Callie’s name. He twisted slowly, arching a brow at Lona.

He snagged on a bare belly button exposed by low-riding jeans clinging to wide hips. Last night, when she had asked him to help her undress, he hadn’t had the time to ogle. Well, maybe a quick peek at her heaving breasts marred by blood trickling into her cleavage. Leather boots adorned her feet. His gaze shot up, past a tight camo-green T-shirt clinging to her abundant assets.

Her skin looked like toffee.

He grunted at that random thought and let his grunt stand as a greeting. “Not really. Just thought you were family of Callie’s. It doesn’t make any difference to me either way.” Because he wanted Ilona, with or without the Devereaux blood flowing in her veins.

He sipped his beer, ignoring her. But damn, it was hard. He wanted to taste those plump lips, nibble on her pert chin, see lust darken her hazel eyes. The Devereaux traits were there, in her direct gaze and inner strength that sang a siren’s call.

“Give me a beer, Aiden.” She claimed the stool beside Rhys, bringing with her a mixture of lavender and antiseptic.

He sucked it into his starved lungs, able to do so without alerting Aiden to his interest. His bear rumbled in pleasure.

“Ilona, let me officially introduce you to my older brother, Rhys.” Aiden grinned. “He’s city folk.”

“You were city folk too, you know.” Rhys chuckled. “I went for a run last night and have to admit, there’s an appeal to living in the wilds.”

“Shit, does that mean you’ll visit more often?” Aiden faked a shudder, but Rhys recognized that sparkle in his eyes. It was good to see it. Inner City and what Alrik had done to Aiden had all but snuffed it.

“No, Callie keeps me busy. Her ex-captain too, who makes Alrik look downright friendly.”

“Didn’t you say Callie got married?” Jillie asked, back in her seat with her spritzer.

“Yup, to Gabriel de Winter. Turns out vamps have mates too.” Fuck, and he had hated seeing her slip out of his grasp.

“No shit.” Aiden gaped.

“But she adopted a shifter girl, so regardless of the alliance, I’d have reason to meet with her.”

“And you allowed it?” Ilona’s husky voice rubbed across his senses.

Rhys twisted to look at her, grateful for the opportunity. No derision or judgment crossed her eyes.

“I didn’t have a choice, believe it or not. George’s mother kicked her out, forced the little girl to survive on her own. I dealt with the mother.” He grimaced at the memory, of finding neglected pups trapped in a pen, their mother sprawled in the empty kitchen with the stench of drugs filling the house. “Since Gabe thinks of George as his daughter, I can’t intervene. All I could do was convince them to let her play with shifter children. Vamps don’t have any of their own.” Yet.

“It’s an unusual situation,” Ilona said, sipping her beer.

His gaze lingered on her lips as she wrapped them around the bottle’s mouth. “Yes, it ties the Knights Ridge to the de Winter hold. It’s complicated.” His thoughts settled on Dimitri Vasiliev and his pal’tsy.

“What kind of name is George?” Jillie frowned.

“Her birth name is Tara, but since her mother abused her, she’s not partial to it. She’d shifted into a rat when Callie met her, and thinking her a male, Callie named her George.”

Jillie coughed on a sip of her spritzer. “The girl’s a poly?”

“Yes, and now she’s in the hands of vamps.” He’d thought himself in love with a vamp, but he didn’t say that. Jillie’s horrified expression didn’t need to petrify. “What kind of a doctor are you?”

He settled his gaze on Ilona, allowing it to trail the scar on her cheek, the indent of her neck, the heaviness of her breasts. Did he ogle her? Hell, yes. And he would continue to do so at every damn opportunity.

She spun the bottle and coaster between long-fingered hands. “By training, a human one, but now I dabble in veterinary.” Saluting Edison with her bottle, she offered him a smile.

“That must’ve been a sharp learning curve.” Rhys winced. Was last night her first excursion into the shifter world? Where was she when the news channels had broadcasted their existence a mere three years ago?

“Broken bones healing within days? Legends spoke of such occurrences high up in these mountains and remote towns. Coedwig has been an eye-opener, and now I hope to find the cure to sicknesses plaguing the human world.”

“How so?”

“There has to be healing properties in your blood. If I could isolate and replicate it without ‘harvesting’ shifters, we can eradicate most human diseases, and hopefully, brain damage too.” While agony swept across her delicate features, she closed her eyes. Like her false humor could hide her suffering, she offered Aiden a stiff smile before winking at him. “I’ve had this death-defying crush on Aiden since I met him. He’s so talented with his first aid knowledge and piercing blue eyes.” She wiggled her eyebrows at his brother, and her genuine smile hinted at a dimple in her cheek. “And the way he polishes a glass…” With the coaster, she fanned herself.

Her teasing made Rhys shift on his stool, trying to ease the restless energy rushing through him. After dropping bills onto the counter, he forced himself to leave before his instincts kicked in. His bear wanted to drag her with him, but he knew better. He had to first gather his control and a plan of approach. Intruding into her bedroom had been foolhardy. She had looked so soft, appealing, and disheveled like she had spent a passionate night—

Almost ripping his jacket off the coat hook, he shrugged it on while heading outside to his SUV. His emotions were in turmoil, more so than with Callie. Ilona…invoked something potent, intimate.

“Rhys!”

Ilona’s husky voice forced him to stop with his bear refusing to take another step. She hurried after him, her footfalls growing louder, crunching snow to reach him. As she neared, he spun, grabbed her by the shoulders and pinned her to the side of his SUV.

“It’s not wise to follow me, Ilona,” he said.

Snow flurries peppered her skin and dissolved. His sharp eyes watched each one in his line of vision. The urge to kiss her gripped him, the puffs of heated air escaping her gaping mouth called to him, begging him to lower his lips to hers.

She shivered beneath his hands, goosebumps forming on the exposed skin her yawning jacket revealed. He fumbled with the zipper and dragged it up, closing it. With seeking fingers, he hooked her hoodie and tugged it over her head, releasing a shuddering breath at not succumbing to her appeal.

“You’ve been asking around town about my Devereaux lineage, Rhys. Why not ask me outright?” She arched a brow, challenging him. “I might not have the answers, but we could find out together.”

He clenched his jaw. Fuck, everything about her set his senses ablaze. He inched closer, eager to feel her skin against his.

“Can I treat you to a coffee?”

He jerked back at her invitation, not certain whether he should spend more time with her with his control non-existent. “Now?”

“Sure. I can meet you at Mo’s Diner.” She hitched a thumb up the road.

He lessened the gap between them, shielding her with his bulk, sharing the warmth of his bear. She shivered, leaned toward him then stepped away, shoving her hands deep into her jacket pockets.

“Sure.”

With a nod, she sidled from under him and headed to her blue rental. After yanking his door open and sliding onto the seat, he gripped the steering wheel, needing it to keep him in the moment.

Claim her.

He ignored his bear and started the engine.

Before we lose another one.

The tires spun before they found traction in the snow-covered gravel. The SUV lurched forward, and he drove out of the parking lot, heading for the diner. Shining like a beacon, the diner’s orange glow, between intermittent swipes of his windscreen wipers, guided him.

He parked the SUV, switched it off, and waited. If she didn’t pitch, he would go for a run. At his immobility, his bear roared his anger, flushing heat through Rhys’s body.

“You’d take her now, bear,” Rhys said, his voice guttural. “Doing so without her permission would wound her. Can you accept the consequences?”

His bear grumbled but said no more.

Rhys released a shuddering breath, grateful for the silence.

Ilona stopped beside him and hopped out of her SUV, shutting the door. Shooting him a raised eyebrow, she rushed inside, greeting the staff on duty with a wave. She slid into the booth, placed her order, and waited…for him.

Her solitary figure compelled him to open his door.

“It’s been slow tonight, what with the science crew on the hills,” Mo said from the kitchen before scurrying out, her waitress outfit snug but crisp.

“Do you think the tower will hold in this storm?” Ilona frowned, peering at the increasing winds revealed by the sweeping flurries of snow in the streetlamp’s pale glow.

“Rebel resupplied them this morning, so I suppose I’m just being a worrywart. Maybe this time you can finish your pie.” Mo shoved a pencil behind her ear, balancing it on top of the one already there. It pushed her graying hair out in a wild tuft.

“Got any coffee? It’s been one hell of a day.”

She nodded and gestured out the window. “That buck planning on coming in or what?”

Ilona didn’t look and forced a shrug. “It’s your guess.”

When Mo dashed into the kitchen, Ilona pinched the bridge of her nose. She hadn’t lied about her day. The temptation to drop her head in her hands was strong. She just wanted to crawl into bed, read her latest guilty pleasure, and accept a life of loneliness as her fate.

As if out of the woodwork, the town’s men and women had flooded the clinic with all manner of pseudo-symptoms, all leading up to a come-on or dinner invitation.

Including Dane, who’d arrogantly assumed she would dine with him. She’d put paid to that suggestion. Despite repeating rejections, he’d persisted. With a snort at the memory of his shocked expression when she’d pretended to knee him in the groin, she rubbed her eyes. She’d driven to Lover’s Point more times than yesterday in a desperate attempt to extract herself from whatever scene was thrust upon her. The children…or cubs she saw were a godsend. They hadn’t had hidden agendas. Neither had their parents.

None of the offers could compare to the bear of a man sitting in the SUV outside Mo’s Diner. That same gorgeous man strolled the snow naked, had rescued her when Edison hurt her, tried to defend her, and yet she sat in Mo’s waiting for him, hoping for…

Ilona winced. For what? What a fool she was. Worse, showing him her scars hadn’t driven him away. His tentative touch had been hot and evocative. Her reaction to him pulsed hope through her. This was her life now, wondering if a man not disgusted by her scars meant a possible date or did revulsion equal rejection?

The door opened allowing the sneaky frozen fingers of a stiff breeze to sweep across the diner, under the tables, and through gaps in her clothes. She clasped her hands between her thighs and huddled. Rhys slid into the booth in front of her, bringing his mind-altering cologne with him. At the same time, Mo served a slice of pie, a mountain of cream, and a hot coffee.

“I’ll have the same, please, Mo,” he said.

Muscled forearms came into view when he rested them on the table. Exposing bulging forearms, he pushed up his black T-shirt’s long sleeves as if the weather wasn’t below freezing. Just like Dane. Bear?

“Tell me all about her,” Ilona said by way of greeting, picking up the spoon to dig into the pie.

“Callista Devereaux’s in her late twenties and ex-law enforcement. She’s a redhead with green eyes, the same as her sister, Valerie. Her blood is supposedly remarkable to the vamps, and I’ve seen her fight. They call her a huntress, whatever that means. She’s sassy and honorable, strong, and stubborn.” While Mo served him, he fell silent then palmed his spoon to slice into the pie seconds later.

“Sounds like you care for her.” Ilona fought the inevitable heartache.

This man wasn’t meant for her either, despite his electrifying touch and the intensity in his blue eyes. The sharp pain mingled with the bitterness of disappointment told her she would have liked him to be hers. Then again, would he find her attractive as scarred and human as she was?

“I do. She’s special. When I learned you have Devereaux blood running through your veins, I had to find out more. Once Callie and Val hear about you, they’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

“Stumbling upon me was a coincidence?” Ilona arched a brow then licked the cream off her spoon. Blue lights swirled outside the diner, drawing her gaze. She stilled, balanced the spoon on the side of the plate and rose to her feet. “Shit, Mo. Is Jake looking for me?”

He rushed in, leaving his SUV running and its door open. Ilona didn’t glance at Rhys while she shoveled in another quick bite. Looks like yet another slice of unfinished pie. She cast a forlorn glance at the bowl of cream.

She settled her gaze on Rhys. “Thanks for meeting me. I know you didn’t want to.” Shit, why did I say that? “Mo, I’ll square up later. Have a nice life, Rhys.” And that? Heat flushed Ilona’s face, but she ignored it, climbing out of the booth as Jake opened the door.

“Of all the nights.” He marched into the diner, stamping snow off his boots.

Tugging her jacket closed, she rocked on her toes while zipping up. “I’m ready, Jake. Is it the scientists?”

“Damn weather chose the wrong day.” He paused, leveling his brown gaze on her. “Avalanche, Ilona. The team’s on their way.”

She gasped and darted out the door and into her rental without a second thought. Her side door opened. She gaped at Rhys when he slid in. His bulk consumed the air in the cab, filling it with his scent, his dominating presence.

She so didn’t need this distraction. “Get out, Rhys. I don’t have time to debate this with you.”

His gaze met hers. A pulse ticked at the base of his clenched jaw. “Don’t ask me to abandon you.”

She winced. Throwing her words back at her was unfair. “Shit. We’ll talk about your high-handedness later.”

She reversed, spinning the tires, trusting them to find traction. With what confidence she had earned in the past few days, she hurtled down the main road.

Jake trailed her with his blue lights spinning.