to control, though some embraced it. As a result, Jim thought those kinds of shifters were just one level up from feral.
No impulse control. No reason. No discipline. They allowed their inner beasts to rule over their human instincts when the real goal should be a perfect partnership between the two sides of a shifter’s nature. But that was too hard for some people, apparently. Or they had been raised in chaos and knew no other way to live.
It was a shame, really. Shifters could be so much…more…if they learned how to use the strengths of the predator and the cunning of the human. But their hearts had to be in the right place, and they had to want to use their abilities for good. Serving the Light was the best path for any being, and like any race, there were some among the many shifter species that served only themselves. Or worse, they chose to serve the darkness and tried with all their strength and cunning to overcome the Light.
Jim sat there, pondering these deep thoughts, not wanting to make too much noise, lest he wake Helen. She deserved her rest after what she’d done for him tonight. He felt a bit guilty that she was so very obviously drained after healing him. For, he was certain, there was no other way he could have healed to this extent already if she hadn’t given of her own energy to heal him magically.
Hell, he probably wouldn’t have even been able to make it to the hotel without her infusing him with magical strength. He owed her. Big time. She had—he had zero doubt—saved his life.
Jim spied his phone on the bedside table. He reached over to snag it, and after only a vague consideration for time zone conversions, he fired off a few pertinent text messages. He wanted others to know what was going on with him and Helen, just in case the hyenas came back before he was fit to deal with them.
Answering texts came back almost immediately. First, Arch wanted to know where, exactly, he was and if Arch should scare up a cavalry unit. Jim thanked his uncle for the offer of support but replied that what he most needed right now, was help with intel. Jim told his uncle all he could remember about the hyenas, knowing Arch would put out feelers in the morning to his extensive network of contacts.
Jim also thought Arch would probably put out warnings along those same lines for anyone who might cross paths with the team of hyenas. If they were working for the Venifucus, they weren’t to be trusted or afforded any sort of concessions when crossing anyone else’s territories.
When the phone in his hand rang, Jim answered it, though he hadn’t wanted to make too much noise. Still, he wanted to talk to Ezra Tate, his point of contact at SeaLife Enterprises, who had hired him for this gig. Jim spoke in low tones, but before the call had progressed too far, he saw Helen stir in her chair. By the time he ended the call, she was awake and looking at him, even as she yawned.
“You’re looking better,” she said as he lowered the phone and met her gaze.
“You saved my life.” He hadn’t quite intended to say that so baldly, but it was true, nonetheless.
Helen blushed a little, the spots of color on her cheeks stark against her pale face. She looked a bit like a ghost of herself, which meant she’d given a lot of her own energy toward keeping him alive. He’d have to protect her while she recouped her energies. He owed her that much.
“I’m just glad those things were scared off by the fireworks,” she said, modestly.
“So, it was you with the fireworks,” he marveled. “I almost thought I’d imagined that part.”
“Nope,” she assured him with a small grin. “I lit up the skies, and I think I singed a few of their hides, too.”
“Good for you,” he praised her, glad to see her smile, even if it was faint.
She looked so pale, so in need of energy. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect her from all harm, but he knew he was in no position to do that just now. They both had some healing to do before they would be at full strength once again.
“What made you think of fireworks? For that matter, what made you come here?” he asked, curious. Grateful, of course, but really,