Healer's Need Read online

  While she’d apparently gotten the message to keep her revelations to herself, Sara’s eyes sparked at the opportunity to cast her front-row experience far and wide. “Absolutely.” She grinned at Elise and waved her hand. “It was really good to meet you. My healer magic’s not that impressive. Nowhere near what Vanessa has today, or what you’ll have after your soul quest, but if you ever need anything...anything at all... I’ll help.”

  With a shake of his head and one last commiserating smile aimed at Tate, Priest steered her away, keeping Katy tight to his side.

  “You’re a rock star and you didn’t even know it,” Tate said, hoping to keep conversation on neutral ground.

  It worked because Elise frowned and tracked Sara’s progress moving from one group to another. “She thinks I’m going to be the healer primo.”

  “Everyone thinks you’re going to be the healer prima. Me included.”

  The frown shifted to something closer to a scowl and her focus seemed to drift, as though her thoughts had turned inward and the activity around her was just extra input. She definitely hadn’t picked up on the subtle language distinction between primo and prima. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.” She glanced up and over her shoulder at him and tucked her fingertips into the front pockets of her shorts. “I know almost nothing about our clan. And maybe that Keeper person won’t want to have our family keep the whole primo deal after Mom rejected her gifts.”

  “Prima.”

  The clarification wiped the frustration from her face long enough to generate some curiosity. “What?”

  “It’s prima for females.” He let his gaze travel the length of her, leisurely enjoying every curve and valley along the way. The bra she had on lifted her amazing tits up for an insane amount of cleavage and made him want to kill Alek all over again for being close enough to see the same view. “And you’re one hundred percent female.”

  For a split second, she responded, her shoulders just barely inching back in a subtle offering he doubted she was even aware of. Just as fast, she spun away and started to leave.

  Tate caught her wrist before she could gain any distance. “Please don’t.”

  Beneath his fingers, her pulse raced. While her scent had taken on a hint of the sharpness that came with fear, there was another thread to it now, too. The rich, intoxicating bite of arousal. Faint, but there.

  She wanted him.

  Had responded to the feel of his lingering perusal. Hadn’t broken the loose, yet firm contact at her wrist. She just didn’t have a clue how to process what to do with the aftershocks. And fuck if that didn’t make him want to howl his triumph for everyone to hear and cart her off no matter who was watching.

  He tightened his fingers only enough to gauge her response. To pair the truth of his words with tangible touch. “I want you with me.”

  She shivered and focused on the single point of contact for too many excruciating heartbeats, then lifted her wide eyes to him. “Why now? You’ve barely said a word to me since I moved in.”

  A smile split his face, the fact that she’d inadvertently admitted she’d wanted his presence bringing the response too quickly for him to mask it. He stroked his thumb along her pulse point and moved in close. “Wanting something and being ready for it are two different things.”

  “And you’re ready now?” It came out a little sassy. A delicate dare tangled up with genuine curiosity.

  And his beast loved it. “I was ready the day I saw you.” Giving in to temptation, he traced her jawline and cupped the back of her neck. Her hair was thick. A silky weight along the back of his hand that made him want to shift his grip, fist it tight and angle her mouth for his kiss. “The wait was for you. To give you time to settle.”

  God, those eyes. So big and expressive. Loaded with pleasant surprise and a fragility that made him want to wrap her up and keep the whole fucking world at bay. He couldn’t wait to see them heavy and dazed with lust. To see what moved behind them the first time he slid inside her.

  “What if I’m still not ready?” she nearly whispered.

  Inside him, his coyote stilled and let out a short huff. A warning and a keen nudge to keep his derailing thoughts on track. Elise wasn’t the coy type. If she’d dared to utter such a statement, it wouldn’t be based on flirtation or dressed up as an innocent challenge the way some of the other more aggressive clanswomen would. She’d mean every word of it. And damned if that didn’t suck for him because he was absolutely on board with getting her ready in the most tactile way possible.

  He filled his lungs with her scent and forced his fingers to uncurl from the back of her neck. “It’s always your choice, mihara.” The second he lost contact and stepped out of her personal space, an empty coldness he’d never felt before settled behind his sternum.

  His beast whimpered and paced, fighting the same compulsion to take and claim that burned inside him.

  But this was a long hunt. The longest and most important one of his life. To push and try to steal her surrender might be faster and gratifying as hell in the short-term, but it wouldn’t build the foundation he wanted. The foundation she’d need to hold her own between them. He held out his hand. “Do you want my company?”

  Of all the fights he’d been in—of every harebrained, thrill-seeking stunt he’d pulled in his life—none generated the raw exposure of that moment. The gut-clenching fear as she stared at his hand with open indecision. His lungs burned with the need for more air and his muscles ached to move, the itch and strain no different than if he’d purposefully splayed his hand on a flaming stove. But he kept his hand steady. His breaths slow and even.

  Gaze rooted on his palm, she swallowed hard and rubbed her own against her hip.

  “Trust me, Elise. It’s just a party. Let me introduce you to everyone and get to know you in the process.”

  She met his stare, such stark uncertainty reflected on her faery face that his whole body seemed to shut down, and he braced for her to walk away. Instead, she slowly placed her hand in his, her fingertips trembling as they skittered across his palm. “I’m not great at social things.”

  His heart lurched back into motion, the ricochet of its furious rhythm as it tried to catch up a deafening crash in his ears. For the first time in days, he felt balanced. Borderline normal. As if her acceptance had not only latched on and yanked him from the eye of a tornado, but opened up a whole new terrain to explore.

  “You don’t have to be great at it.” He laced his fingers with hers, relief and determination jetting a fresh wave of adrenaline through his bloodstream as he tugged her closer and steered them into the celebration’s fray. “I’m a master. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

  He started with a cluster of mated couples who’d been together awhile, most of them Priest’s age or older. Where the grip she kept on his hand had been painfully tight when they’d joined the group and her input to the lighthearted conversation limited at first, by the time they’d meandered away, she’d unwound enough to comfortably stroll by his side and a small smile lingered on her lips. The next group was even easier, Katy’s grandmother, Naomi, and one of the clan’s elder warriors, Garrett, each pulling her into warm hugs like a favorite granddaughter and taking over with introducing her to the others around them.

  Fortunately for Tate, all the hugs and handshakes had forced Elise to release her hold on him. A fact he took prompt advantage of the second all the hi-how-are-yas were over by moving in tight beside her and sliding his arm around her waist.

  She sucked in a quick, indrawn breath. A barely there gasp that would have gone undetected to anyone who’d not yet received their heightened shifter senses, but considering the people around them had all answered their quest years ago and been alive for well over a hundred years each, they all caught it. They may not have turned their heads and openly made note of it, but the quick smiles and chuckles in the wake of her innocent r
esponse had obviously triggered fond memories.

  Even if they’d turned and pointed, Elise would have likely missed it. She was obviously too flustered, first folding her arms across her chest, then tucking her fingertips inside the front pocket of her shorts.

  With a smile he hoped she didn’t catch, he leaned to the side and murmured, “It’s okay to touch me, mihara.”

  She peeked up at him through her lashes then scanned the people gathered around the gorge as though looking for examples to work from.

  Tate smoothed his hand along the ample curve at her hip. A gentle, petting stroke when what he really wanted was to squeeze, pull her in front of him and make it so she could simply lean against him. “Put your arm around my waist. See how that feels.”

  The hesitation that followed was nowhere near as long or painful as the wait for her to take his hand had been. But the feel of her fingertips tentatively sliding low on his back from one hip to the other? That was a whole different level of torture. Especially, when she dared to snuggle in closer and pressed her free hand lightly on his sternum. “Like this?”

  Yes.

  No.

  Both answers hit him at the same time, part of him insisting the wiser course of action was to let her take her time and explore however she wanted, while the other part fought the temptation to pull her flush, front-to-front, and devour her mouth.

  Patience.

  His companion might have uttered the message, but even his coyote’s confidence was wavering. Patience strained to the point of pain and frustration.

  “Perfect,” he said, instead. And it wasn’t a lie. It might not be as much as he craved, but without the tension of when he’d steadied her against him and calmed her before, now he could savor the contact. Could let the conversation bouncing around them idle as nothing more than background noise and focus on the way her soft body gave way to his and fit so perfectly. The press of her full breasts against his side. The whisper of her hair against his chin, and the heat of her skin even through her tank and jeans.

  He was so lost in soaking it all in, he barely registered the overly perky and feminine voice at his opposite side. “Hey, Tate. Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”

  Elise went tense within his arms, her fingertips pressing more firmly against his chest and her hard, impassive gaze lasered in the direction the words had come from.

  In less than a heartbeat, both man and beast went on full alert, his brain finally tying the voice with who it actually belonged to. Tate tightened his arm around Elise’s waist and gave her hip a reassuring squeeze before he shifted them both to fully take in the new arrival. “Hey, Nessa.” Though, as he offered the greeting, he realized it wasn’t just one person who’d strolled up to the group. It was bad enough he was going to have to introduce Elise to someone he’d been intimate with before he had a chance to cover that ground with her, but apparently, he was going to have to handle it with Nessa’s gossiping posse in tow. Four of them, to be exact, and all of them eyeballing Elise tucked tight to his side with calculating expressions.

  He dipped his head to the lot of them. “Ladies.”

  Each offered anything from laughter to sly smiles in answer, but it was Nessa who kept things going. “So? Who’s your friend?”

  Funny. Once upon a time, he’d found Nessa ridiculously attractive. With her cool blond hair, pretty blue eyes and willowy body, she was definitely easy on the eyes, but after a few outings with her, he’d realized the depth behind her beauty was almost nonexistent.

  He stared down at Elise’s still guarded face, the same pride that had nearly choked him every time he’d introduced her tonight pushing up from his chest. “This is Elise Ralston. She just moved here from Louisiana.” He lowered his voice, hoping the tone of it would help calm whatever had Elise drawn so tight. “Elise, these are some of our clan’s healers and seers. Bren, Taya, Daycie, Renda and Nessa.”

  “It’s Vanessa, actually. Only my friends call me Nessa.”

  The bite behind her saccharine sweet words slapped like a subzero wind chill to the cheeks. If Elise noted the barely veiled slight, she didn’t show it. Just dropped her hand from Tate’s torso and straightened to the max of her five feet two inches and lifted her jaw. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Bren, a seer and the friendliest of the group, cocked her head and offered a neutral smile. “Where did you live in Louisiana?”

  Elise studied her for a second, the shrewd focus of a crafty animal accustomed to assessing and dodging dangerous aggressors. “Butte La Rose.”

  “Where’s that?” Renda asked.

  “Just outside Lafayette,” Elise answered, though the clipped delivery didn’t encourage diving deeper into details about her hometown.

  Toying with the straw that peeked out of her red Solo cup, Daycie weighed in anyway. “Sara said you’re from the healer primo family line, but I thought their name was Rallion.”

  “Rallion is the name her family used to go by,” Tate said before she could answer. Whatever it was that had Elise poised for flight, neither he or his companion liked it and were ready to shut the awkward situation down by any means possible. “They go by Ralston now.”

  “Well, just because she’s from the former line doesn’t mean she’ll be prima,” Nessa said. “I mean, her mom didn’t take her gifts, so the Keeper might shift things to a new line. Why keep the honor in a family who doesn’t appreciate it for what it is? And isn’t your dad a singura? You may not even have a soul quest, right?”

  And there it was. The catty attack his mate had obviously sensed coming that he’d apparently done a piss poor job of blocking. Yeah, he’d listened to Jade cry and rant when women had tried to pull that backhanded bullshit with her growing up. Had even heard Nessa and her crew bad-mouthing women they obviously viewed as competitors in high school, but now? For fuck’s sake, they were all mid-to late-twenties, not fourteen and maxed out on hormones.

  Beside him, Elise went eerily still, her heart’s once agitated rhythm settling into that of a warrior pre-fight. Even the energy around her seemed to settle into an impenetrable shield. “Whether or not I’m given magic, or what titles I hold doesn’t define me. Character does.”

  Silence.

  One by one, the women around Nessa lost their smiles and looked to their fearless leader as though they’d entirely lost their rudder.

  Nessa glanced at the elders beside them who’d ceased their conversation in favor of the drama unfolding and let out one of those awkward laughs reserved for people up a social shit creek. “I think what I said came out the wrong way. I just thought you might be feeling some pressure and wanted to point out some other possibilities. I mean, being the healer prima is a big thing and you don’t even know anything about us.”

  “Neither did Katy and she’s Priest’s mate,” Tate said. “Not to mention our first sorcerer in years. You wanna throw around possibilities, maybe the Keeper’s decided to give our clan primos who don’t have sticks up their asses and can actually function with a little humanity.”

  “Oh, come on, Tate,” Vanessa said. “You know I didn’t mean anything bad by it.” She slipped in closer and actually had the audacity to drag a familiar stroke along his arm. “You know me.”

  Elise jolted against him, a faint movement she did an astounding job of hiding from everyone else, but pressed against him, he felt every pain-laced bit of it. She tried to move from within the shelter of his arm.

  Tate clamped down harder. “I have a woman next to me and you dared to touch me in front of her. She’s new to our clan and from an honored family, but you gave her the coldest welcome of anyone here tonight. Worse, you’d rather try to brush the slights you’ve handed out as misunderstandings to save face rather than own up to them. Apparently, I don’t know you. And just to be clear, any right you once had to touch me is gone.”

  His gaze slid to Jade who’d
meandered to the edge of the crowd, her feet planted hip width, arms crossed and a proud grin on her face. She might be a seer for the clan, but in that moment, she looked more like a warrior weighing whether or not she needed to wade in and kick a load of female ass. As pissed as he was, a part of him wanted to hang around and see if she actually pulled the trigger.

  But Elise needed him more. Preferably without the bulk of the clan looking on. “I think we’re done here.” He steered Elise away from the group, but tossed a final dig over his shoulder as he left. “Nice talking to you... Vanessa.”

  Chapter Four

  Women were bitches. Backstabbing, underhanded, devious bitches.

  Perched atop a big boulder at the lake’s edge with Tate beside her and a crescent moon high in the near-midnight sky, the thought seemed incongruous. A hairy wart in the middle of an otherwise picture-perfect scenario.

  Deep down Elise knew the sentiment wasn’t true. Had actually met many decent women in the years since she’d escaped high school—Jade and Katy being among them—but with the dregs of her encounter with Vanessa still lingering like a stubborn hangover, it was hard not to generalize.

  It was also hard not to run and hide. Actually, she would have run if she’d been able to swing it. At least five times she’d tried to make excuses to Tate and escape down the path back to her house, but he’d stubbornly either kept her fingers laced with his, or wrapped a possessive arm around her waist whenever they stopped to mingle with other people from the clan.

  And then he’d brought her here. Led her unerringly through the dark, still woods without a single light to help navigate the terrain and peppered her with questions about her life. About her mother, her father, and what life had been like living in a small town like Butte La Rose.

  Moonlight rippled on the lake’s wavering surface, the wind just strong enough to leave a chill on her skin. Not that she minded. With Tate this close, subtly leaning in every now and then and brushing his shoulder against hers, it could have been fifteen below zero and she’d have been content.