Page 23 of Wolf's Fate
Doc tilted his head as he studied me. “Are you really that upset he went out of his way to care for you?”
“Well, when he just up and walks away, yes, I am. Because I don’t believe he cared.”
Doc nodded. “So your feelings are hurt.”
“Yes, he hurt my feelings! He walked away and left me with a wolf pack who could have locked me in a bunker and never let me out!”
Doc laughed. Right in my face. It was as sudden as it was genuinely amused. “I thought we’d been nothing but hospitable,” he said with a smile as he tidied his small pouch ofmedical equipment up. He then drew out a syringe and a vial. “May I?”
“Can I say no?” I was already rolling up the arm of my sweater.
“You could.” He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm. “But why would you bother?”
Meaning he would take it anyway. Comforting. To be honest, I didn’t mind. I actually found Doc a very proficient healthcare provider. I wondered if he had any job satisfaction with a pack of wolves who rarely got sick as his caseload.
“What’s the average age of a shifter?” I asked while he found a vein and got ready to pierce my skin.
“They stop aging, unlike humans, once they reach maturity.” Doc was distracted, my vein proving to be more elusive than he would like, so he didn’t see my look of surprise.
“He’s immortal?” I’d gained a range of several octaves higher than was normal.
“What? Who? Immortal? What?” Doc blinked up at me, the first drop of blood hitting the vial. “No one is immortal, that’s ridiculous. Though the shaman is over two hundred years old, so I would say he may feel that way sometimes.”
“Two hundred…” I was shaking my head, and Doc was grinning at me again. I wished I wasn’t such a source of amusement. “You’re pulling my leg. I know he’s old, but eighties at the most. Maybe ninety.”
“Two hundred plus.” He pressed a cotton ball against my skin. “They hit maturity, and they slow down getting older.”
“Wolves live to like thirteen.”
Doc raised his eyebrows as he waited for me to get where I was going. When I said nothing else, he hid his smile. “You’relooking at animals. Shifters have the Goddess Luna’s magic in them.”
“What age are you?” I demanded, refusing the Band-Aid and rolling my sleeve down. “Fifty?”
“Ouch.” He rubbed his jaw as he mock glared at me. “Thirty-eight human years.”
“That’s insane. And also really, really unfair.”
He patted my knee in sympathy. “So now you know why I observe, why I told Caleb to take these notes.” Straightening, Doc looked at his notebook. “I have to admit, I think your friend Lorna may have a case; you’re healthier with her than you are alone.”
I looked away and fought the familiar feeling of irritation. “I do look after myself. I don’t need a keeper.”
“I know, and you are very conscious of being healthy,” he agreed. “But let’s not write off the power of being cared for.”
The door got knocked and Doc crossed the room to open it for Royce. The bigger man walked in and looked at me grimly.
“We have more shifters in this town than we need.”
EIGHT
Willow
“What does that mean?”I asked warily, getting off my seat. “What doesmoremean?” I looked between them, worry gnawing at my gut. “Are they here for me?”
Royce shook his head, but he didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know,” he said, which I hadn’t been expecting.
He looked like he wanted to deny it, but then he said that, and that was confusing and I decided I needed to sit back down. “Mixed messages, big guy,” I grumbled, perching on my stool. “Did you speak to them? Did you see the big guy? He’s really huge.”
“I didn’t see any of them,” Royce answered me, sharing a look with Doc. “I can smell them.”