Wolf Tracks - Bianca D'Arc Page 0,75

she’d done. He wanted her to know he was willing to listen.

“What makes you think that was my first kill?” she asked, challenging him. He loved how she was constantly making him rethink his assumptions.

“It wasn’t?”

“That’s not what I said,” she replied, giving nothing away. “I grew up on a farm. I’ve seen death. I’ve caused it a time or two, though you’re right. I’ll admit I’ve never killed another person before. Of course, that woman was just about as far from being a decent human being as it’s possible to get.” Helen sipped her water and regarded him steadily. “I admit, I felt very odd about it at first, but I’ve been pondering whether my actions were right or wrong, and I realized that the gift the Mother of All has given me would not work had my actions not been righteous. All of my power—magical and otherwise—comes from the Goddess. It stands to reason that, if I tried to use it in a way She didn’t approve of, it wouldn’t work. That’s how it’s always been for me, at least.” Helen shrugged as she ate a dainty spoonful of her mashed potatoes.

She went on after a short pause to swallow, before he could say anything. “Then, of course, I saw the full extent of what she and her husband had done to Calum, and I almost wished I could kill her, all over again. That poor boy.” She blinked a few times, and he realized there were tears glistening in her eyes. “He was so close to death, Jim. So close.” She held it together and sipped her water again. “That’s why I gave so much of my own power to him. He really, really needed it. Plus, I knew you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me while I was so run down.”

“You’ve got that right,” he said, meaning every syllable. “Are you feeling better now? You already look a lot steadier.”

“The food is really helping,” she told him, forking another bite of turkey and stuffing into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed before going on. “This is really amazingly delicious. As good as my mother’s, though if you tell her I said that, I’ll deny it.” Helen smiled at him then concentrated on her plate for a bit.

He’d never seen her eat so much, and it gave his inner wolf a warm feeling to feed her. Providing for one’s mate was a basic need of the wolf, though Jim couldn’t be sure that a mating between them would work out. There were a few obstacles that had to be overcome if this was going to work.

Helen was starting to feel much, much better. The meal was helping, though the turkey had its usual effect, making her a bit sleepy. Still, she wasn’t close to crashing from fatigue anymore. She was just happily sleepy, but she didn’t really want to sleep. No, what she wanted was sitting across the little table from her.

Jim. She wanted him like she wanted her next breath.

She did her best to hold in her impulses until they were finished eating, but when he rose to take the plates out into the main room, she grabbed his forearm. Jim paused, meeting her gaze.

“Don’t go far,” she said, trying to find a way to say what she really wanted that didn’t sound too brassy.

“I’m just going into the next room to clear up,” he told her. Damn. He wasn’t getting it.

“I mean, go ahead and do that but then come back.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Why don’t you just get in bed and get some rest?”

She shook her head. “Not without you.”

His expression cleared, but she wasn’t sure he totally understood what she wanted. Still, he looked more agreeable. She could work with that.

“Okay. You get in bed, and I’ll be back in just a few minutes,” he told her, bending to place a chaste kiss on her forehead.

From that, she surmised he was under the impression that she wanted him to hold her while she slept or something. While that would be nice, what she wanted went a lot farther than just being held. She wanted him. His possession. His lovemaking. His full attention.

Jim cleared the nightstand and went into the main room with the plates. Helen took a few moments to put the nightstand back in its original position. Then, she went into the shared bathroom between the bedrooms, trailing her clothing like breadcrumbs along the path to the bathroom door, which she