Healer's Need Page 4

  “So, why major in kinesiology?”

  She ducked her head and smiled at his new topic. “Normally, the first question I get isn’t how I ended up majoring in it, but what the heck is it?”

  “It’s about body movement, right? Using it to make people healthier, or rehab them after injuries?”

  And here she’d thought he hadn’t noticed her. Clearly, he’d not only been watching how she spent her time, but he’d done his homework, too. “I’m impressed.”

  The smile he answered her with reminded her of a little boy she’d worked with during a physical therapy internship rotation in Lafayette. His leg had been significantly damaged in a horrible car wreck, but he’d been fearless in his recovery. The day he’d taken three steps in a row, he’d beamed at her with such pure delight it made her heart sing.

  “Don’t give me too much credit,” he said, twisting on the wide rock so he faced her rather than the lake. “My time with Google only went so far. When they started throwing out things like biomechanics and neuroscience, my eyes kinda glazed over.” He studied her for a beat then shifted one leg, anchored it behind her back and scooted closer. “So? Tell me how a girl from a tiny town in Louisiana ended up with an unconventional major like yours.”

  Unconventional was a choice word. Some people in the medical world even went so far as to scoff when kinesiology was mentioned, but she’d gotten to the point where she didn’t care anymore. “I was really active with sports growing up—dance, track, gymnastics. Up until I was sixteen, my poor mom spent more time in a car driving me from one thing to another and finding me whatever gear I needed than she did doing anything else.”

  “Well, you were good at it if the number of trophies and ribbons in your room are any indication.”

  Ugh. Those trophies. They’d been a joy and a weight all at the same time. “If it was up to me, we would have left them back in Louisiana. Or better yet, they’d be gone altogether.”

  “Why? You worked for them.”

  And paid for them through more than competition. She dared a look at Tate beside her. “I got hurt about halfway through my junior year in high school. A knee injury. Mom keeps the stuff around me as a way to try and get me to reconsider dropping out of sports.”

  “You never went back?”

  “Nope.”

  The night swallowed her answer and the soft spring air danced along her skin. As if it dared her to share more.

  Tate waited.

  Odd. For the first time since the day she’d limped and crawled her way back to her house, the devastation and pain that normally swarmed her remembering what had led to her injury stayed blissfully at bay. As if his presence alone held the humiliation and hurt well out of reach.

  “Anyway...” She anchored her heels on the boulder and wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them tight. “The whole injury process—the doctors, the nurses, the rehabilitation—it all fascinated me. When I started college, I planned on going the doctor route, but the more classes I attended, the angrier I got. It felt too rigid. Too textbook.”

  “So, you switched to the therapy side of it?”

  “Not right away. There was a semester where I explored the nursing angle first, but then an advisor at school suggested I look at kinesiology.” She shrugged and twisted to meet his gaze. “It fit.”

  Never in her life had a man looked at her the way Tate was right now. Totally focused. As if there was absolutely nothing else in the world except her and what came out of her mouth. More than that, he seemed intent on committing every response to memory. The way she moved. Her smiles. Her mood. “You don’t like to talk about how you were hurt.”

  It was a gentle nudge. A careful approach delivered on the rich baritone of his voice. Part of her wanted to answer it. To open up and let it all spill out. The embarrassment. The shame and the loss.

  But the rest of her was too greedy. Too hesitant to risk a moment like this slipping away. “No.”

  He held her gaze, an emotion moving behind his amber eyes she couldn’t quite identify.

  But she’d never felt safer. More accepted than in that moment.

  The wind teased her hair from behind her ear and across her face.

  Tate swept the errant strands back, softly tracing his thumb along her cheek. “I want to know you, Elise. Even the parts you’re afraid to share.” He cupped her nape, the careful yet deeply possessive contact lighting a heightened awareness. As if the air around them had grown thick and rich with a pleasant electricity. “I won’t rush you. Won’t ever take more than you’re willing to give.” His thumb skimmed along the pulse at her neck. “But I want it all.”

  Her heart kicked and her belly spun to rival some of the flips she’d once mastered in her floor routines.

  All as in her secrets?

  Or all as in everything?

  Who cares?

  Looking at him in that second, bound to him by the magnetic moment and barely capable of reasonable thought—let alone fear—neither prospect seemed daunting. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “I don’t know anything about you.”

  His full lips twitched. “You know I’m a warrior. You know I’m a tattoo artist and that I work and live with Priest. You know Jade’s a pain in my ass.”

  “But I don’t know why you live with Priest.” As soon as she said it, she wanted to snatch the question back. Especially when his smile slipped and a wistfulness settled in his eyes.

  He lowered his hand and leaned back. “You know what happened to our clan, right?”

  Oh, she knew. Had heard about the presect rites performed at each change of season to keep the Earth’s magic in balance. Had nearly cried at hearing the excruciating details of how Priest’s brother, Draven, had stolen every primo’s magic at the last rite over fifty years ago trying to overtake the clan. Draven had killed the primos in the process—Elise’s grandmother, included—and nearly killed Priest as well. But Priest had won in the end, stripping the gifts Draven had stolen and taking them into himself. He’d thought he’d killed Draven, too, but they’d learned otherwise when he slaughtered Kateri and Alek’s parents.

  Elise nodded. “Jade said Priest still has the dark magic Draven used that night trapped inside him.”

  “He does. For a long time after the attack happened it was mine and Jade’s mothers who kept him alive and protected. It took Priest years to get the darkness under control. Our moms are the ones who inked the marks you see on him today. Or most of them, anyway. The symbols helped contain it.”

  “Where was your dad?”

  “You know our life spans are different, right?”

  She nodded. “Naomi said she’s 125.”

  “And Garrett’s 163. Some of our elders have even made it to almost two centuries. The only one who lives longer is our high priest. The one Priest replaced was nearly 300 when he died.”

  Katy had shared as much early on, but it still was a shock to try and comprehend. “And?”

  “So, my dad was a lot older than my mom. Died when I was ten. When my mom died, Priest took me in. I was sixteen then, but he’d always been a fixture in my life. Jade moved in with us a year later when her mom died.”

  “Your mom was a healer?”

  He nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips. “A strong one. Nowhere near what you’ll be someday, but powerful nonetheless.”

  “You don’t know I’ll be prima.” Sure, it would be an amazing gift. An honor she’d put everything into if it came to pass, but right now she’d be happy just to lean a little closer to Tate and run her fingers along his strong jawline. To feel his beard against her skin.

  She hadn’t even realized she was rubbing one thumb along the pads of her fingertips until Tate covered her hand with his, turned it so her palm faced up and traced a path along the center. “What are you thinking about,
mihara?”

  Mihara.

  He’d called her that a few times tonight. She’d known it was an endearment of some sort from the times she’d heard Priest use it with Katy, but the exact meaning was still a mystery. “What’s that word mean?”

  His smile shifted, the devilish grin that replaced it whipping her heart into a jog. “That’s my secret. But anything else you want to know about me is yours to have.”

  “Anything?”

  Pure delight glinted in his eyes. “Anything.”

  A kiss was too much. Definitely more than her already exhausted courage could rally for. But there was something else. Something she’d imagined countless times, mostly at night with the windows open with the night’s sweet sounds drifting in to lull her sleep. She swallowed hard, praying her request wouldn’t make him laugh in her face. “Will you shift for me?”

  His smile died, but the look that moved in behind it stirred something wild inside her. Heat. Desire. Raw and uninhibited lust. “Do you know what my companion is?”

  Thinking was a challenge. Talking even more so. Especially, when the only action her body seemed interested in processing was how to initiate contact. Full, chest-to-toes, delicious contact. “Jade said it’s a coyote.”

  “A mountain coyote.” He cocked his head and studied her. “And you’re not afraid?”

  “Should I be?”

  For a second, she swore a growl rumbled past his lips. “Not in the way you’re thinking.” He gripped her hand in his and gave it a meaningful squeeze. “But you’re safe with him.”

  “Then I’d like to see.”

  He dipped his head, though she would have sworn it wasn’t her he was agreeing with. More like an answer to a conversation she wasn’t privy to hearing. “All right.” With one last stroke from his fingers along the back of her hand, he slid from the boulder and paced a few steps away. Though, with Tate, even the simple action was a wonderful thing to watch. With his tight, compacted muscles and animalistic grace, he was pure alpha in motion. “Stand up.”

  “Why?”

  He faced her, his fists loosely clenching and releasing at his sides. “Because it’s past midnight and I don’t want your mother worried. If my other half gets to come out and play, he at least needs to walk you home.”

  A weird mix of elation and disappointment dragged her to her feet. For the first time in her life, she didn’t want to go home. Didn’t want the night to end. But at the same time, she couldn’t wait to meet his companion. “Can I talk to him?” Well, duh. Of course, you can talk to him. “I mean, will he understand me?”

  Tate’s smile was lightning quick. “He’s been here all night and heard every word. So, yeah. He’ll understand you. We’re two parts of one whole. If you need me, or you get scared, we’ll both know, and I’ll shift back.”

  So. Freaking. Cool. She barely stopped herself from bouncing like a five-year-old waiting for her princess birthday party to start. She’d seen Alek shift into his wolf the day she’d learned about the clan and had glimpsed Katy and Priest with their panther and lioness padding side by side through the isolated woods a few times, but somehow this was different. More important. Like a long awaited meeting she hadn’t even been aware she was waiting for.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded, her answer as it slipped out breathy with anticipation. “Yes.”

  He hesitated for all of two heartbeats, his gaze locked with hers and the ten feet between them pulsing with a supercharged connection.

  A soft light tinged with red blossomed against the lake and the sky’s dark background.

  It dimmed almost as quickly, but Tate was gone. In his place was a gorgeous creature that stood as tall as her thighs, his thick gold pelt accented with white, gray and black. Where she’d expected his build to be lean, or even wiry like some of the wild images she’d seen online, Tate’s companion was pure muscle.

  He waited, the same amber eyes as Tate’s staring back at her, only now their shape was different. Slightly angled in a way that made his gaze seem sharper.

  “Hi.” It was probably a stupid thing to say. Tate had basically just told her the animal standing in front of her was part of him, so it wasn’t like an introduction was necessary, but the greeting felt right.

  Strangely enough, the coyote lifted its chin, let out a soft yip and cautiously padded forward.

  Instinct pushed her to back away. Or better yet, run. But another far more pressing need dragged her to her knees. The chilled damp ground cushioned her landing and sent goose bumps along her bared skin, but the closer he got, the less she cared about the discomfort.

  He slowed and paused just out of reach.

  She lifted her hand, palm up. “I’m okay.”

  His pert ears twitched and his avid gaze shifted to her trembling fingers.

  Okay, maybe she wasn’t rock steady, but she wasn’t terrified either. “I’m excited, not afraid.” When he still didn’t budge, she opted for something with more weight. “I’m also a little cold. You’re not blocking the wind anymore.”

  On a human, the huff her statement earned would have fallen somewhere between humor and mild annoyance. What it meant for a coyote was harder to gauge, but it did get him in motion, sidling slowly within reaching distance. He butted her hand with the top of his head and nestled closer, stopping when his fur tickled the inside of her arms and tops of her thighs.

  And holy cow, was he soft. Soft with such a thick coat that when she combed her fingers just behind his ears the fine tips teased her wrists. She sighed and got her other hand in on the action, stroking the back of his neck and burrowing into his heat like he was a friendly husky instead of a deadly hunter. “That’s much better.”

  A soft hum rumbled from his chest. He leaned into her, nudged her neck with his cold, wet nose, then rubbed his cheek along the same spot. With the weight of him, his open affection and the playful swish of his tail, she toppled sideways, her laugher lifting out into the cloudless starry skies. “Oh my God, you’re heavy. What do you weigh, anyway?”

  He barked and crept close, snuggling alongside her like it was the most natural thing in the world. His warm breath buffeted against her neck and she would have sworn his parted mouth was a coyote’s version of a smile. “Are you apologizing, or just angling for a better back rub?”

  At that, he huffed and licked her cheek, drawing an unexpected squeak out of her they probably heard all the way back to Priest’s house. “Okay, okay. Back rub it is. Though, if you lick me again all bets are off.”

  He let out a soft whine, stretched out on his belly and rested his chin on his paws, the picture of contentment. And that was it. Just the peace of two beings snuggled close to each other. Him sharing his heat and her sharing her touch. And the funniest part? She was comfortable. Totally void of the nervous sexual jitters she felt around Tate. As if, by shedding his human skin, she was able to peel away all her past hurts and fears and just be without worrying.

  She didn’t have a clue how long they lay there, but it was far too soon when Tate’s companion lifted his head, met her gaze and slowly stood, rubbing the side of his massive torso against her as he did. “Time to go, huh?”

  In animal form, there were no facial expressions to clue her in to his thoughts, but his eyes said he wasn’t any happier about reality forcing its way into the moment than she was.

  “Okay, fine. But don’t go too fast. I can’t see as good as you.”

  The trek through the woods was peacefully perfect, the whisper of her sandaled feet against winter’s decomposing leaves, the soft rustle of leaves overhead and the forest’s rich, earthy scents wrapping her in a reflective tapestry. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind. Uprooting from the small town she’d lived in her whole life. Meeting new people. Wrapping her head around the fantastical reality of magic and shapeshifting. Finding herself dumbstruck by a man she’d thought hadn
’t noticed her at all.

  And then tonight had happened.

  In the time she’d spent with Tate’s companion, the heady buzz that had kept her spellbound and tongue-tied all night had finally eased, but the awareness was still right there at the surface. The near tangible promise that while the very human alpha who’d not only demonstrated quite publicly his interest, but stood up for her with someone he’d likely known most of his life, was only a shift away, just waiting to pick back up where he’d left off.

  At least she hoped that’s what happened. With her experience, or the lack thereof, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility she was reading everything the wrong way. But then why would he be so open with physical touch? Why spend his time with her? Or more importantly, want her secrets? The questions looped over and over, new ones popping up and jumping into the never-ending cycle while the forest slipped by.

  Through it all, Tate stayed close. Only when a fallen log or outstretched branch might have tripped her up or injured her did he leave his place just ahead and to one side of her and draw her attention to the danger.

  The light from her back porch glimmered through the tree line ahead.

  Home.

  It should have made her happy. Had always served as a safe space where the curious looks from boys and ugly taunts from girls couldn’t reach her.

  Tonight it meant the end.

  For a moment, she thought about circling back toward the lake. To steal a little of the night back before the real world could toss her back into her ordinary, isolated routine. But that was only a delay. The one thing in life she knew with absolute clarity was that you couldn’t prevent life or people from being what they were meant to be. God knew, she’d tried and failed miserably. No one knew what tomorrow would bring and to mourn tonight before it was fully over was a waste.

  Tate moved into her path and stopped barely more than an arm’s reach away, forcing her to do the same. Unlike the cautious or playful energy she’d sensed in him before, this time he was laser focused. A keen predator astutely aware of every sound and sight around him.