“Clothes and a first-aid kit,” he declared, coming back around the car with his arms full. She pulled on a sweater that did a better job of covering her everything than his jacket had. He averted his eyes while she got changed and she felt—good? Bad? Confused?—about it.
Not that she wanted to encourage perving, but… they were mates. Shouldn’t he want to perv at her?
She sure as shit wanted to perv at him. Damn his magical, clothing-shifting abilities. And a quick perv would at least be something normal in the midst of all this…
One minute we’re fighting for our lives against some… thing that’s burning down everything around us, the next he’s lending me a clean pair of socks, she thought. I’m pretty sure none of my aunts or uncles ever went through anything like this with their mates.
She pulled on a pair of sweats that felt like she was wearing a sleeping bag on each leg, and carefully rolled up one pant leg to uncover the wound just above her left knee.
The bite hurt like hell, but it was nothing to look at. It wasn’t even bleeding anymore. Just sitting there, on her leg (in her leg?), hurting.
Fleance made a small, relieved sound as he kneeled down in front of her. She glanced at him, but his face had fallen back into a sort of careful neutrality that she told herself wasn’t freaking her out at all.
“Am I going to make it, doc?” she joked.
He almost smiled. He looked up at her, though, his pale eyes warm, and that was good enough. “You’re already healing,” he said. “The bleeding’s stopped. I’ll clean this up and bandage it, and you’ll be fine.” *And you won’t turn.* His psychic voice was a warm breeze against her mind.
She smiled at him. “Fine and ready for round two,” she said.
He tensed, just for a moment, and Sheena fought to keep a frown off her face. Then something inside him released. Fire kindled behind his eyes.
“Round two,” he said, his voice closer to a purr than a growl, “is something I’m going to take care of myself.”
Sheena swallowed. Okay, she thought, maybe this whole ‘my monster’ thing is hotter than I gave it credit for.
“Now let me see your side.” Fleance set down the first-aid kit and gently lifted her borrowed jacket away from her side. It came off sticky—she didn’t want to look—but Fleance didn’t scream out My God, your guts are spilling out everywhere, so it couldn’t be that bad.
“This looks like a claw mark,” he muttered. “Not deep. I’ll clean it.”
She focused on the gentle touch of his fingers as he dabbed away the dried blood and sprayed antiseptic onto the scratches. His touch. His gentle care. Not the wound itself, not how much it bloody hurt, not how she’d gotten it—
—The monstrous dog moved like smoke. She should move. She tried to, but her side hurt, and her sheep tried to go in the other direction, and all four of her legs tried to go in four more directions, and then he was on top of her and it HURT—
She squeezed her eyes shut. “What is this all about, anyway? Who was that… thing? How did you turn up in the nick of time?”
Fleance looked at her cautiously. “We shouldn’t talk about it here.”
She’d seen that look too many times before. Anger grabbed at the fear rising inside her and used it to launch itself up.
“I’m fine. Really. Between my sheep and me I’ve been hurt way worse than this before.” Too sharp, she thought as the words leaped out. Too snappish.
His expression became guarded. Again, not new. Classic something-he’s-not-telling-me, Sheena thought, and her shoulders went up at the same time her stomach dropped.
He’s my mate, she thought. Aren’t we meant to be able to tell each other anything? Isn’t that how it’s meant to work?
She knew why he wasn’t saying anything. Why he was pushing off answering her questions until later. Because he thought she couldn’t cope.
Something thrummed inside her. It took her a moment to recognize it as the mate bond. Bright and shining, new and already slightly battered… and anchoring her to the powerful, red-haired, fire-eyed man kneeling in front of her.
He looked up at her, one hand stretching tentatively towards hers. When she took it, a shiver went through the mate bond, as though she was feeling him step over some sort of marker.
“I told you, I don’t think you’re weak. I will tell you everything,” he said, his voice hushed. “Just…”
His face shadowed over and when he spoke again, it was inside her mind. *Not here and not out loud. It’s not safe.*
“But—” Sheena stopped herself. *But that other shifter—Parker—he’s gone, isn’t he? I can’t even smell him anymore.*
*And I bet you couldn’t smell him clearly before he appeared, either,* Fleance replied grimly. *Just because you can’t see or sense a hellhound, doesn’t mean we’re not there.”
*What? How?*
*Magic.* His jaw set in a grim line as he finished bandaging her side and moved onto her leg. He hesitated slightly, inspecting the bite marks more carefully than he had the scratches. *Hellhounds can pass completely unseen to all senses. He could be here and we wouldn’t know it, unless we were part of his pack.*
*My sheep couldn’t sense him, even when I could. When he was… making me afraid.*
Fleance frowned. *I haven’t heard of that happening before.*
“Oh, good.” Sheena’s cheeks heated up. *Just my sheep being its usual unobservant self, then. Forget I said anything.*
So, hellhounds could turn invisible to all the senses—unless you were a part of their pack. That sounded a lot like her flock sense. Except sheep didn’t go invisible.
She concentrated. *I can’t feel that… that fake fear anymore. And the only shifter I can sense here is you.*
Fleance looked relieved, and his eyes flickered with possessive fire. *Good. Let’s get to the nearest city, uh…*
*Rotorua?*
*Right. Find a hotel to hole up in, make
