I hoped.
We continued on, our pace by necessity slow, but eventually the ambulance’s red and blue lights washed across the darkness ahead. And parked to one side of it was Aiden’s truck.
All I wanted to do was jump out and run into his arms.
The four-wheel drive stopped, and I climbed somewhat stiffly out. A frisson of heat and awareness rolled over my skin, and I turned to see Aiden striding toward me. Like most werewolves, he was tall and rangy, but his shoulders were lovely and wide, his arms lean but muscular, and his sharp features very easy on the eye.
His expression held little in the way of emotion, but his aura practically crackled with it. Fear, relief, guilt, concern, and deep, deep worry … the latter not aimed at me.
I frowned, knowing then something bad must have happened, but before I could say anything, he wrapped me in a hug that was fierce and warm and oh-so wonderful.
“What the fuck have you been doing to yourself?” His voice was gruff with emotion. Love, an inner voice whispered, but that was something I didn’t dare hope for. It was a path that could only lead to tears. “You look and feel utterly drained.”
“It’s been a busy few nights.”
“You should have rung me—”
“I rang Jaz. She was the ranger on call, not you.”
“Yes, but—” He stopped, took a deep breath, then kissed the top of my head and pulled back. “Thanks for saving my girl, Harry. Appreciate it.”
“No problems, Aiden.” Harry handed Aiden my pack, then looked at me, his amber eyes bright with amusement. “Perhaps next time you should think twice about driving on shitty roads in shittier weather.”
I laughed. “Oh, you can be sure of that.”
“Good.” With a nod at the two of us, he jumped back into his truck and headed off down the road.
Aiden took my arm and guided me over to the ambulance. “I’ll meet you at the hospital. We can talk there.”
There was a note in his voice that sharpened the inner worry. “Is everything alright?”
“That is the question on everyone’s lips right now.” He ran a hand through his wet hair, his blue eyes bright with worry. “Dillon was badly injured during the moon run.”
Dillon was his youngest brother, and only fourteen, if I remembered correctly.
I gripped his arm, and his muscles briefly tensed—a reflexive action that suggested he didn’t want to be comforted right now. “What happened?”
“Tree fell on him. His legs were …” He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Well, mangled is the only word that is in any way appropriate.”
My breath caught. “But he’s a werewolf—”
“Yes, but to heal, a werewolf has to shift shape, and Dillon is comatose.”
“Isn’t the change normally automatic in this sort of situation?”
“There is nothing normal about this situation.” It was sharply said, but he immediately grimaced and placed his hand over mine, squeezing lightly. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. I should have called but—”
“Your mother wouldn’t have appreciated my presence at such a moment, Aiden.”
One of the paramedics cleared his throat. “Um, hate to interrupt, but we need to get you out of this rain and down to the hospital.”
“Go,” Aiden immediately said. “I’ll see you down there.”
I hesitated, then nodded and accepted the paramedic’s help. The ambulance door was slammed shut and, once they’d done a preliminary check, I was strapped in and driven away.
When we arrived at the hospital twenty minutes later, I was shoved into a gown and whisked through various scans and tests. Thankfully, they all came back clear; there was no sign of internal injuries, and neither of the cuts on my face was deep enough to require stitches. The doctors were more surprised than me, I think, at the lack of injuries given the severity of the rollover. They tried insisting I remain overnight for observation on the off chance the seat belt had caused internal injuries they’d missed, but I was having none of that. After a good deal of arguing and a promise to return if I developed any sort of abdominal pain, they grudgingly released me.
I reluctantly pulled on my wet jeans, then dragged on my sodden shoes, collected my pack, and headed out.
Aiden was waiting in the seating area just outside the main emergency department entry, but rose when he saw me. His eyes—a deep blue rather than the usual amber of a werewolf—were haunted.
“Dillon’s condition has taken a turn for the worse.” He scraped a hand through his wet hair. “I’ll have to stay, just in case.”
“I’m so sorry, Aiden.” I gripped his arm, but once again muscles tensed under my touch. “You may need your truck, so I’ll grab a cab—”
I stopped abruptly, my gaze caught by the flicker of a moonbeam.
Only it wasn’t. It was a glowing, silvery thread of wild magic.
Katie was here.
You can save him, she said. You are, in fact, his only hope.
Not to put any pressure on me or anything, I muttered mentally. And in case you missed it, I’m not a healer. Neither is the wild magic.
He doesn’t need a healer. He just needs to shift shape. His body will do the rest.
And how am I supposed to force him to shift?
You’ll need to use your precognition and psychometry skills in much the same way as you use them to read the memories of the newly dead.
That particular skill was one I used only in extreme circumstances, as it was a rabbit hole a psychic could easily get lost in. While most thought the brain died the minute the heart stopped, there was in fact up to a six-minute window of survival, after which memory deterioration began if the heart wasn’t restarted. But deep diving into a living mind that was dying presented a whole raft of new dangers I really didn’t want to think about.
I can’t see how that will help. I can read memories, but I can’t alter them or his mind.
No, but Belle can with my guidance. We need to hurry, though. I can hear death’s footsteps, and she draws far too close.
“Lizzie?” Aiden said softly. “What are you seeing?”
“Katie. She wants me and Belle to help her save Dillon.”
“What?” The word exploded from him, filled with a deep mix of disbelief and hope. “Does she seriously believe that’s possible?”
“Yes, but neither she nor I can give you a hundred-percent guarantee.”
I raised my hand, and the glowing thread curled around my wrist, as fragile as a moonbeam, but pulsing with power. Ancient power. This thread had come from the old wellspring rather than Katie’s, which suggested her influence over both was increasing. I couldn’t help but wonder where it would all end—for her, and for me. Because within that power was an acknowledgment of kinship with me, and it was stronger now than it had ever been.
“If that’s the case, we need to get to intensive care, and fast.” Aiden twined his fingers through mine and quickly tugged me forward.
My bruised and aching muscles protested the sudden movement, but I ignored them as we ran through a myriad of corridors that all looked the same. How exactly is this supposed to work, Katie?
You, Belle, and I will have to become one.