“Doc also shifted back—we suspect maybe even earlier than Darien. We didn’t know it until just a few minutes ago because he was so tired that he slept through the whole thing. He’ll help with the vaccinations and wants to tell Ryan to join our pack and forget taking you away.
“Of course, Darien would say no to that. It’s one thing for Ryan to come here to help us out with an important matter. But it’s another for Darien to have to butt heads with him all the time.”
“Carol?” Ryan called as he entered the house. “Have I got good news! We found the vaccine.”
Smiling, Lelandi and Carol wiped away residual tears as the women all waited for Ryan to enter the kitchen.
Ryan’s smile faltered when he saw Rosalind and Lelandi with their arms around Carol’s waist. “I got waylaid at the hospital and thought the two of you had gone home,” he said to Lelandi.
“We were on our way there when Darien called Lelandi with the news. Carol found the cure,” Rosalind said, proudly. “So we had to tell her right away. Once you and she are cured and ready to come home… well, everything will be right with the world.”
He looked from Rosalind to Lelandi. She shrugged. “Darien’s raising Cain with everyone—North and his pack members; the two gray females, Becky and Marilee, for their shenanigans; and Tom for allowing North to nearly take off with Carol at the hospital.”
“He shifted back.” Ryan smiled with a bit of the devil in his expression. “He’s mad at me for taking Carol as my mate without his permission, I can just bet.”
“Um, yeah, but he’ll speak with you after he makes sure Carol’s cure has lasting power.”
Ryan chuckled darkly. “And now?”
“Doc Mitchell hasn’t changed back yet, and he’s having fits over it. Doc Weber said the two of you can stay in his home as long as you like. He’ll stay with Doc Mitchell in his big, old house in the country until the vet shifts back.”
Carol felt relief and exhaustion, knowing that she no longer had to push herself to find a cure and that Ryan wouldn’t have to keep looking for a vaccine. She slumped down on the kitchen chair and wanted to sleep for the next year without waking to do anything.
Ryan saw the telltale signs that Carol was truly sick. He assumed she’d been trying to hide it from him earlier. Now he saw how her eyelids drooped, her eyes glassy and her face pale. She looked worn out and sick. Like he felt.
“What’s the cure?” he asked, ready to give it to Carol first.
She motioned to the fridge, teakettle, and herbs and spices sitting in containers on the counter. “A half-dozen remedies together. But I’ve detailed everything in my notes on the computer.”
He glanced at the packages of licorice sitting on the countertop. “Not the licorice.” He frowned at her. “Or the onion soaked all night in honey, surely.”
She smiled a little and reached for his hand. “At least we don’t have to try wolf’s bane.”
“Wolf’s bane?” Rosalind and Lelandi said at the same time.
Carol shrugged. “It could have killed us. I need to throw that remedy out before anyone drinks it by accident.”
Everyone looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“Or it could have been a cure, according to werewolf lore. It was used for medicinal purposes eons ago. And as a poison.”
Lelandi asked, “Where is it?”
“The bottom-right crisper in the fridge, blue container.”
Rosalind went to dispose of it.
“Until we can move to Green Valley, Carol and I will stay here,” Ryan said, damned thankful they hadn’t had to try wolf’s bane. He hated the taste of licorice, and the idea of onions soaked in honey was sure to turn him off eating either for months.
“What about Puss?” Carol asked, and sneezed.
“Maybe Puss should stay with us a while longer while you get your rest,” Lelandi suggested.
Carol nodded. The fight was out of her. She needed to rest.
Ryan gathered her up into his arms, feeling how warm her body was and knowing she was running a fever.
“No one is to disturb us… for anything.”
Rosalind grinned. “I never thought I’d see the day that my brother would be mated.”
Lelandi patted Ryan’s back as he headed for the guest bedroom. “Take good care of her.”
“She’ll be good as new before you know it.”
But Carol wasn’t good as new in short order. She was run down, stressed to the max, and totally worn out. She lost her voice, coughed constantly, ran fevers, and ached all over. Ryan, who wasn’t nearly as sick, was still feeling poorly. He had to watch the way he coughed and grimaced every time he swallowed. Yet he took care of Carol as if he were her personal nurse, bossy sometimes and coaxing at other times.
He brought her fresh boxes of tissues and glasses of water and orange juice and sore throat lozenges and expectorant medicines. He forced down pots of ginger tea, onions minus honey, honey on toast—hopefully with the same benefit, small doses of licorice, and garlic. He tried all the remedies she’d used with Darien and the others who had contracted the virus, except for the exercise routine.
Three times the previous night, she’d had the damnable urge to shift, and the heat had again struck her. Three times, Ryan had made love to her, and to her amazement and joy, he’d coaxed the urge to shift right out of her. If she’d known that hot sex would keep the shift from occurring, she would have dragged him from the woods the first night she’d seen him and sneaked him into the guest bedroom to ply his erotic moves on her.
Now it was daylight, and the heat once again infiltrated her muscles and joints—and even her bones. She hadn’t had a fever in two days, so she knew the heat wasn’t due to that. This went deeper. When she tugged at the covers in a frantic way and then tried to pull off her long T-shirt, Ryan noticed her distress. He left the chair he’d been sitting in while he watched over her and sat on the edge of the bed, his hand caressing her shoulder.
“Did I tell you about the time my partner drove after an armed robber on foot, and the robber dove over a fence into someone’s backyard?”
She shook her head. She loved how he could lessen her compulsion to shift by telling her tales of his exploits as a police officer first and then as a P.I. But she was afraid the effect wouldn’t last forever, and she feared that the antidote wouldn’t kick in soon enough.
“My partner didn’t apply the brakes in time. The fence was hiding not only the robber but also an attractive nuisance.”
“A swimming pool,” she guessed, smiling.
“Yep. I was in foot pursuit. Instead of trying to catch the robber, I ended up having to rescue my partner from the swimming pool as his car plummeted into the heated water.”
Carol smiled. Ryan gave her an elusive smile back and kissed her forehead.
“Did the robber get away?”
“He was so stunned that he was still gawking at the rescue as I pulled my partner free. By the time the robber thought to make a hasty retreat, I’d tackled him. He ended up in handcuffs—and soaking wet, too.”
She chuckled, loving to hear about her mate’s past and growing closer to him every day. She hoped and prayed and wished she’d be back to normal soon. Then he’d take her home—to his home, his pack, and his family. She hated leaving her job behind. Yet until she could get her shifting under control, she doubted she could handle work.
The urge to shift gone, she tugged down her T-shirt, and Ryan covered her back up with the blanket.
“Sleep, my Florence Nightingale.” He ran the back of his hand across her cheek in a gentle caress. “Sleep, and we’ll talk later.”