I don't care about the stitches. I care about catching this killer.
And you have deputies who are more than capable. Use them. Stop trying to do everything by yourself.
This from the wolf who decided to sidestep the official investigation and undertake her own.
Sav's mind voice was dry, and Neva grinned. I think it's a case of do as I say, not do as I do.
The nurse stuck her head around the corner. "Time's up," she said. "The doctor wants Savannah to rest a little before your parents get here."
Neva nodded and rose. I'll keep in contact.
Make sure you do. And I want to know everything that man says, especially if it's anything related to the case.
Neva hesitated. You know he can use the bonding to forbid me to mention anything?
He can't forbid what's a natural part of you — he can't forbid the telepathy we share. Savannah hesitated, and her thoughts become a touch grim. Believe me, I know.
Neva raised an eyebrow. I sense a story I haven't been told.
Savannah waved a hand. Old history.
But not forgotten hurt, from the sound of it.
Let's just say I know a little about being used and leave it at that.
Would you leave it at that?
Sav's smile was a flutter of warmth through her mind. I guess not. I'll tell you when I'm feeling stronger.
Neva hesitated, then said, I've found out a few interesting snippets of information I have to tell you. But later.
Tonight. Savannah's thoughts were becoming sleepy.
Neva leaned forward and placed a kiss on her sister's nose, then she released her hand and walked out. Duncan leaned against the wall, arms crossed and face impassive. With his damp black hair, the black leather jacket straining across the width of his shoulders, and dark jeans clinging to his lean but powerful legs, he looked sinister and yet so sinfully delicious that desire curled through her. He looked every inch the dark angel — a man who skirted the lines between good and bad, and who didn't seem to give a damn what anyone thought.
And she realized then it didn't even matter what she thought of him, because no matter how good it sometimes seemed between them, in the end it was only physical. It never could and never would be anything more than that. All he wanted out of a mate was a few days of pleasure. He didn't believe in love or life mates and certainly wasn't the type to settle down. She wanted all those things. Always had.
She stopped and crossed her arms. "Do you wish to go back to the mansion to talk?"
He shook his head. "The storm is getting more severe. Your place would be better."
She didn't want this man in her house. Didn't want his scent on the air or memories of him to linger once this moon phase was over and he was gone. Nor did she really want to risk her parents dropping by. Right now, she wasn't ready to face them — or the questions they'd undoubtedly have. She glanced out the window, studying the blanketing whiteness for a moment. A motel room really wasn't a good option, though, especially in a town this size. If her parents were determined to find her, they would. All they'd have to do is follow the trail of gossip.
"Let's go," she said, not bothering to look back at him as she moved toward the exit.
He didn't say anything as they walked down the stairs, but as they headed toward the exit, he took off his coat and offered it to her. She glanced at it, then him, and wished she knew what was going on behind the shutters.
"I'm all right, thanks."
"You're so damn cold your lips are practically blue, and goose bumps have become a permanent feature on your skin," he snapped. "Take the damn coat."
She glanced down at the coat he held out, then shifted shape and raced out into the storm. Maybe she was being stupid, but right then she didn't want to be bound to Duncan any more than she already was, even when it came to something as simple as accepting the offer of a coat. She might be obliged to mate with him for the entirety of this moon dance, but she wasn't about to lean on him, not in any way. She'd chosen him to be a means to an end, nothing more, though whether he'd let her continue her investigations now that he knew who she was, she didn't know. But undoubtedly soon would.
Her teeth were chattering by the time she reached her house, and the goose bumps he'd mentioned were practically boulders. She flicked on the lights and the heating, then moved into the kitchen to fill up the coffee pot.
"I'm going for a shower," she said, flicking the switch. "Alone."
She turned to face him, and all thought of showering immediately fled at the desire so evident in his dark eyes. Her heart began a double-time dance, and she knew with certainly this time it had nothing to do with fear. Freezing cold or not, she wanted this man with a fierceness that was almost scary. As was the fact that she'd never felt anything like this before. But then, she'd never been with a wolf as wild as Duncan before. Her previous mates had been sensible choices — the sort of wolves her parents would have approved of.