Page 10 of The Healer

Rhys frowned.

Callie pressed a kiss to George’s cheek. “Some of them need shoes and clothes. Some have nice toys, and some don’t.”

“Can I share?” She twirled on the spot, swirling her skirt, while trusting Rhys to spin her like a ballerina.

He did so instinctively. When she stopped, she swayed with dizziness but raised her arms, asking for him to pick her up. He did so without forethought then blinked at the sweet-scented bundle in his arms.

Not minding that she had him wrapped around her pinky, he tweaked her nose. Rising to his full height, he towered over the pal’tsy who didn’t flinch or blink but held his stance. Rhys would drive them to the lodge, and a Vasiliev SUV would collect them after lunchtime. Deviation from this brought Dimitri—self-appointed guardian—to the lodge, and his presence alone raised the hackles on any shifter present.

Rhys hoped to avoid a scene today and had scheduled a tea party for the children away from worried parents. “You look pretty in your picnic dress, cupcake.”

She smiled and looped her arm around his neck for an impromptu hug. His heart leaped to choke him. This had been a while coming. She had been so frightened of him when they had first met. His bear roared. His potent fury fired Rhys’s blood and demanded freedom to shift. Calm the fuck down. His bear grumbled but settled. They placed the blame for the shitstorm they were in on Alrik’s shoulders. Rhys was still mopping up his messes while discovering new ones.

Striding out the Italian-style De Winter hold, he didn’t spare the fine architecture much attention. The volutes, overly tall pillars, the rich gold sconces, and framed portraits done by famous artists didn’t suit him. He preferred the rustic charm of the lodge with its thick rugs, solid furniture strong enough to handle his bulk, and the large kitchen that dominated the space. Shifters loved food.

Alrik had drained the pack’s coffers, but through careful strategizing, they were on their way to recovering, now able to provide for each shifter family. Investments were Rhys’s current focus. The money they had wouldn’t last. He needed to ensure what they did have would remain consistent for generations to come.

“I’m blind.” Jase threw an arm across his face. “So much pink. My powers…they’re leaking…I’m melting.”

George giggled, burying her face in Rhys’s neck.

“He’s just jealous, cupcake.” He nuzzled her hair with his chin. “Ask Callie to make Jase a pink T-shirt for next time.”

George held a finger to her lips. “Our secret.” She raised her arms for Jase to take her.

He did, swinging her before buckling her in. They kept up a steady chat, their heads dipped together. Jase sitting in the back forced the pal’tsy into the front passenger seat. The man didn’t show his opinion in any way. Still, as big as Rhys was, he wouldn’t test the vamp’s skills. Restrained power, that of a coiled snake, poured off the man.

As soon as Rhys steered onto the road, the man lowered the window, flooding the SUV with fresh air. His twitching nose said it all. To suckbloods, shifters stank like wet fur as Callie had tried to explain.

Rhys grimaced at yet another reason why she wasn’t his mate, not anymore. She had survived the vamp conversion and had come out of it more powerful than expected. All he could hope for was friendship, trust, but that wasn’t why he went to so much effort for George. Her situation was at Alrik’s hands, and therefore, Rhys’s responsibility to deal with. If he could reunite her with her brothers, he would chalk that up to a success.

The pack lodges were on the outskirts of the city. They relocated every fifty years or so when the expanding city boundaries began to encroach on their privacy. Hiding their abilities had been harder when superstition ruled men’s hearts. Three years ago their existence became public knowledge. Rhys had considered not relocating and perhaps ring-fencing their properties. Rebuilding cost money, and it meant starting fresh.

As it was, he had men on patrol since snapping a photo of them shifting was a sought-after commodity for the local media. A few armed weirdos had trespassed on their land intent on doing them harm. Other ‘visitors’ were desperate women hoping to become shifters especially around the Lunar Festivals each month. The mutation gene was in the blood at birth, no human or vamp could be converted to shifter without it. There were stories told of attempts made. All failed. Callie becoming a suckblood was for the best. She would have remained human as Rhys’s mate despite the frequent biting during sex, despite his blood flowing through hers, despite the primal connection between their souls. She would have been his mate until her natural death which would be decades before he could follow. And those decades would have been in solitude. Shifters mated for life.

The human police had too much on their plates to deal with these trespassers. It had taken this long for the government to agree to draft laws with the old alpha, Silas McDermott, who’d volunteered as spokesman. He’d stepped down from his position of alpha, an unheard of occurrence, with his pack’s new alpha voted in—also unusual. Colt, Rabidhide’s alpha, had done well since then.

There was talk of allowing shifters to manage their security. Any trespassers or crimes committed against a shifter would be dealt with internally. The problem was with the alpha. If he was like Alrik, the punishment would be death, no matter the crime.

Stopping in front of the lodge, Rhys leaped out of the car to open George’s door. Jase had unbuckled her, but she didn’t move, peeking around Rhys at the waiting children. Her pale blue eyes widened, and the sickly stench of fear tainted the air with an orange blue.

He dipped his head to meet her gaze. “Cupcake, Callie told me how brave you were when that nasty suckblood captured her. Are the cubs scarier than him?”

She shook her head, flinging her curls wild. “Oh, no, Uncle Rhys.” Still, she hesitated. “What if they don’t like me?”

“Sugarplum, everyone will love you. Besides, I’m invited to the picnic too.” Jase grinned, holding out his hand. “You can sit next to me.”

She giggled and placed her hands in his. “You can’t. You’ll eat all the cake.”

“Only a little. Okay, no cake for me.” He drew her from the car, tossed her into the air, and caught her. As a brown bear, he had the strength to. He carried her to the strewn blankets with the cubs and pups chasing each other.

“Wonderful.” Brianne, the resident kindergarten teacher, skipped across the lawn.

Rhys blinked and hid a smirk. He’d never seen Brianne do that, and he supposed she did so now to charm George. His heart swelled with pride, that Brianne would go to this much effort to welcome George. As a member of the Knights Ridge pack, she had heard of George’s tragic situation. As a cub minder, she had brought to Rhys’s attention that George needed interaction with children, shifter or human.

Rhys’s nail in the coffin had been along those lines, and as new parents, Callie and Gabe had caved. Dimitri had been harder to convince. Hence the presence of his pal’tsy. No one knew how many he had trained, but they moved like panthers—merging with the shadows, lethal in their strikes, and silent.

Jase lowered George to the grass, but she kept a white-knuckled grip on his denims. When George shuffled forward, so did the pal’tsy.

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