Hunter's Heart

for a moment, studying her. “I saw you a couple of nights ago, when I was attacked by some . . . subjects my team and I were chasing.”

“I’d wondered if you knew I was there, or remembered,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure what drew me to you, to be honest. I fell asleep that night and had a vision of you in the alley with your friends, fighting some humanlike creatures that looked like vampires. Crazy, I know.”

A faint smile curved his lips, but he said nothing. The smile wasn’t mocking, and his eyes were devoid of humor.

“I have real-time visions sometimes when I sleep. I’m projected into the scene whether I want to be there or not.”

“Wouldn’t that be Dreamwalking, in that case?”

“No. Dreamwalking requires the person, or both parties if there’s more than one, to be dreaming, and the scene isn’t necessarily real, or happening at all. It’s often a fantasy that disappears when the person wakes. It didn’t actually happen, but the memory can be shared if there’s more than one Dreamwalker involved. A meeting of the minds, if you will, rather than reality.”

“I see. So you really were there, in the alley with me.”

“Yes. Even in my sleep, I projected a form of myself to the actual scene that was taking place.”

“Okay.” So simple, his acceptance.

“Just okay? Where is your attitude, the sarcasm? What did you mean when you said nobody around here would be surprised by my gift?”

“Because nobody will.” He sighed and braced his elbows on his knees. “You asked me where you are. Right now you’re a guest of the Institute of Parapsychology, housed in a secret location in the Shoshone National Forest.”

“The Institute of Parapsychology,” she repeated, turning over the term in her mind. Gradually, it dawned on her. “The study of the paranormal.”

“Yes. As well as the effects of that world on all of us who live here at the compound.”

She digested this. “And just who are you?”

“My team is called Alpha Pack. We each have different Psy abilities and we get called all over the world to handle paranormal predators like the rogue vampires you witnessed us battling.”

“They really were vampires?” she whispered.

His voice was gentle, almost apologetic. “Those fangs weren’t fake, honey. Neither was the silver knife that one bastard buried in my side.”

“Why silver? Wait— How are you even out of your hospital bed two days after being stabbed and having your throat ripped out?” She sat upright, heart beating wildly in her chest. “I saw it! And now there’s nothing but some pink scars on your neck!”

“You’re right, you did see me torn and stabbed. But I heal fast. All of my kind does.”

“What kind is that?” She was almost afraid to know.

“The type that doesn’t react well to silver, so that much of the legends is true.” He gave her a sad smile. “You might as well know . . . we’re wolf shifters, Daria.”

* * *

Ben Cantrell fell to his knees in the undergrowth, sick and exhausted.

What had happened? Where had he been this time?

His confused mind finally registered the blood. His hands were coated in the vile stuff. His arms, chest, some splattered on his legs. Reaching up, he felt his face, and recoiled in horror. Blood, on his mouth.

“Oh, no. No.”

Not again. Please, not again.

But to his lawyer’s mind, the evidence was irrefutable. He laughed at that, a mad, hysterical sound. Because he’d never work as an attorney again. Would never be human. His life had been stolen from him and he would never get it back.

Unless he found the ones who could help. He’d set out searching for them, but now struggled to recall who he was supposed to find. But he’d remember. He would. And they would help him.

They had to. Or soon, Benjamin Cantrell would be lost forever.

Four

Ryon’s guts clenched as he studied Daria’s reaction.

The woman paled under her tan, her lips parting in shock. Then she dropped her gaze to the sheets. “I can’t buy that.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She looked up. “I believe you think you’re telling the truth, but—”

“You can perform astral projection,” he pointed out. “You know about Psy gifts, and you saw the vampires with your own eyes.”

“There have been documented case studies of people who have psychic abilities and can do or see all sorts of things they shouldn’t be able to,” she said. “Some can predict the future, read an object to see the past, move items with their minds, find missing people. You name it. But you’re asking me to believe you can change forms? I’m sorry, Ryon. You’re delusional.”

“I expected you to react like that,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. “I can’t blame you. But I can prove it.”

“You can change into a wolf, here and now.” Her tone was flat.

“Yes.”

She flicked her good hand at him. “Okay, so do it.”

“I don’t think so. Not yet.”

Some of the hardness left her expression, and her tone became kind. “Have you sought help for this fantasy? There are some really good doctors who can treat that sort of thing.”

He stood. “I don’t need a doctor. Not for being delusional, anyway. I’m going to let you rest because you have a lot to take in, and this is enough for the time being.”

“Will you be back?”

She sounded hopeful, and that eased some of his anxiety—and his wolf’s. But not all. The beast paced inside him, not happy at being doubted. It was much too close to rejection.

“Yeah.” Leaning over, he kissed her cheek, then straightened. “I’ll be back soon, no worries. Sleep.”

“All right, I’ll try.” She didn’t look convinced, though.

Giving her a reassuring smile, he turned and walked out while he still had the strength to leave. He’d pushed far enough, and her scientist’s mind needed precious time to absorb the truth of his words. She wasn’t ready to see him change into his wolf, but she would be. As a biologist, and his mate, though she didn’t know that part yet, she wouldn’t be able to help her curiosity. She would continue to be drawn to him.

He hoped.

Leaving the infirmary, he headed for Nick’s office. The door was cracked when he got there, and he heard his commander inside, talking. Guessing the door wouldn’t be open if the boss didn’t want to be disturbed, he knocked lightly and waited.

“Come in.”

Pushing inside, he saw Nick sitting behind his desk, Sheriff Deveraux reclining in a chair across from him. Deveraux was about Nick’s age, and Ryon supposed women would find him good-looking in a rugged, outdoorsy way. Ryon stuck his hand out to the visitor.

“Sheriff,” he said politely. “I’ve seen you a couple of times, but we’ve never been introduced. I’m Ryon Hunter.”

The other man grasped it briefly, his gaze sharp but not unkind. “You’re part of the Alpha Pack that Nick has been telling me about?”

Ryon looked at his boss, who gave a slight nod. The sheriff had been unwittingly pulled into the Sluaghs’