Chapter Two

Chapter 2

P ain...tired...can't breathe.

Selene staggered to the door of her basement apartment below the vintage dress shop she owned that was situated among the quaint little buildings of old-town Chicago.

She could barely breathe and her shoulder ached unbearably, the pain draining her strength, sucking the life from her body.

Holding on to the handrail, she pulled herself up the steps to ground level. Headlights flashed on the street in front of the building.

Once outside the door of her shop, Selene met Deme, as her sister climbed out of her Lexus SUV. "Thank the goddess, you're here."

"Were you going somewhere without me?" Deme asked.

Selene lurched toward the car and leaned against the door. "We need to get there."

"Are you all right, sweetie?" Deme started to round the car.

"I'm okay, but we need to move fast." She opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. "Hurry."

"Where exactly do we need to get?" Deme climbed back into the driver's seat and inserted the key in the ignition.

"Head toward the Washington Street Bridge."

Deme shifted into gear and spun the SUV around in a tight U-turn, bumping over the curb on the other side of the street. When they'd gone several blocks, she looked across at Selene.

"Is it the girl? The one you called about earlier?"

Selene shook her head. "No. Someone else. He's injured and alone." She closed her eyes, shivering. "And cold. He'll die if we don't get to him soon."

"What about the girl?"

"The EMTs are with her now. But he's alone."

Deme's foot sank to the floor, shooting them along the streets, dodging the occasional driver unfortunate enough to be out on the city streets so late into the night.

As they crossed the Washington Street Bridge, Selene leaned forward, her gaze panning the landscape, the steel, glass and concrete buildings rising high into the night sky, blocking the moon. "Turn left on Wacker."

On such short notice, Deme slammed on her brakes and skidded into the turn. The rear end continued around and she goosed the accelerator to keep her SUV from making a complete three-sixty.

As they shot down Wacker, Selene dug her fingers into the dash, leaning so far forward her nose almost touched the windshield. He was near, very near. Selene leaned back in her seat, braced herself and yelled, "Stop!"

Deme hit the brakes, bringing the vehicle to a standstill, tires burning into the asphalt.

Selene burst from the door, rounded the car and raced across the street. So intent on reaching the wounded man, she didn't see the car until almost too late.

A horn blared, tires squealed and an older model Lincoln Town Car swerved, barely missing her.

Without slowing, she ducked between buildings and headed for the river.

"Selene, wait for me," Deme called out behind her.

But she couldn't wait, his need drove her forward, sending her on a headlong rush toward the river. She found a staircase leading down to the walkway along the water's edge.

"Selene!" Deme called out behind her. "Damn it, this area is dangerous at this time of night."

She knew. He'd been injured by a dangerous animal, his blood running into the river. Selene ran along the water's edge, heading north. Something moved in the shadow beneath the next bridge.

Fear had a place in Selene's race to save him. But it wasn't for herself. It was for him. She didn't slow until she reached the bridge.

A moan echoed off the steel supports.

A man lay across the concrete, a soaked cape pulling at the string around his neck, but otherwise he was shirtless in the late autumn chill. His soaked trousers were torn and ragged, as though they'd been through a shredder. No shoes, no jacket, his hair, longish and tousled, was hanging in his face.

Selene ripped the coat from her back and covered him, pulling it up to the wounded shoulder. Blood oozed from a deep gash. Not a gunshot wound, but the vicious bite of a raging animal. She tore the hem of her blouse, wadded the material into a pad and pressed it into the gash, stemming the flow of blood.

His eyes opened and he gasped. A low growl rumbled in his throat and his hand reached out to grab her wrist in a fearsome grip, pulling her hand away from the injury. The strength of his grasp hurt, cutting off her circulation.

Selene bit her lower lip, pushing back the pain. He didn't know what he was doing. "Shh...I'm here to help. We have to stop the bleeding. Let me help." Tears stung her eyes as his grip tightened. She stared into his face, trying to read his expression, the shadows blurring her view.

If he squeezed much harder, he'd snap her bones. Such strength in an injured man was extraordinary.

She sent soothing thoughts into his consciousness.

Deme skidded to a halt behind her. "Let her go," her sister said to the man.

"It's okay, Deme. He's delirious, he doesn't know he's hurting me." Selene sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "Please, let go. I need to stop the blood. Do you understand? Otherwise you'll die." Please, I only want to help.

His eyelids drooped. "Tired. Can't hold on."

"That's right, let go." Selene peeled one finger loose, then another. "We need to get you help."

"No hospital," he whispered. Then his hand slackened and dropped to the ground.

"About damned time he passed out. I was going to have to knock him out so that you could help his stubborn ass." Deme dropped to her haunches and pulled her cell phone from her pocket. "I'll get an ambulance here."

"No!" Selene's response came swift and sure. From where, she didn't know. All she knew was that this man wouldn't want to go to a hospital, no matter how injured he was. "Help me get him back to your vehicle."

"Are you kidding? He must weigh close to two hundred pounds. There are stairs and..."

"Please. We have to get him out of the cold and bandage his wound before shock sets in or it won't matter." She pressed the wad of material to his shoulder. "Give me your scarf."

"But it's my favorite."

Selene held out her hand.

Deme unwound the scarf from around her neck and reluctantly handed it to her, a frown creasing her brow. "You don't even know this guy. What's so special about him?"

Selene didn't answer, instead wrapping the scarf around his shoulder and knotting it over the wound to apply more pressure. Then she stood and grabbed him beneath the injured arm.

Deme took the uninjured side.

The man growled again, guttural and animal-like.

"Get up," Selene said in a strong voice any drill sergeant would envy. "Get up!" With her sister's help and the efforts of the half conscious, half naked man, they got him to his feet and led him to the stairs.

After nearly losing him twice, they got him up the steps and onto the street above. Selene leaned him against a light pole to help hold him up as Deme ran for the vehicle. She pulled up beside them and they guided him into the backseat, bumping his head and shoulder in the process.

A low roar ripped through the car, startling the women.

Deme stared across at Selene. "No man should make that kind of noise, I don't care how delirious."

"Just get him in." Selene lifted one of his legs, shoved it in and closed the door quickly. She climbed into the passenger seat and twisted around to watch him.

Deme eased into the driver's seat and stared into the rearview mirror at the man. "Sure you don't want me to drop him off at a hospital emergency room?"

"No." Selene's jaw set in a hard line. "Take me home."

Deme shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I'm not leaving him at your place."

"You have to." Selene shot a pleading glance at her sister. "I'm his only hope."

"Look, Selene, you don't know this guy. He could be a mass murderer or a rapist. He could be the person who jumped the woman from your vision."

"He's not."

"How do you know?"

"I just know."

"He was in the same area, Selene."

"He didn't hurt that woman." Selene's words were low, intense.

Deme stared into her sister's eyes for a long, hard minute. "Okay, then."

Selene breathed a sigh as the SUV pulled away from the curb and headed back across the river toward her apartment. Why she'd insisted on taking him to her home, she didn't know. He'd insisted no hospital. Why?

Selene stretched out her mind to read into his thoughts, but the more she pushed the more frustrated she became. So many questions spun through her own thoughts, she couldn't see into his.

The man in the backseat moaned. He'd lost a lot of blood and from the looks of him, had gone into the river, a very unsanitary place. If he didn't die of exposure, the bacteria from the river water might kill him.

"Could you hurry?" Selene urged.

Deme shook her head, but the SUV's speed picked up. A red light ahead made her slow the vehicle enough to look both ways before blowing through.

In what seemed like an interminable amount of time, but had been less than ten minutes, Deme pulled up in front of Selene's shop.

"We're here, now what?" Deme cast a glance into the backseat, where the man lay semicomatose. "How are we going to get him in the basement? Assuming I agree to this plan of yours."

Selene bit her lip. "I don't know. But we have to."

Deme reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. "Cal can be here in fifteen."

"No." Selene put her hand over Deme's phone. "I'd rather we kept this to just you and me."

"What? You and me carrying a large unconscious man into your basement apartment?"

Selene nodded. "Yes. And I don't want Cal to know that he's even here. I don't want anyone else to know. Not even Gina and Aurai. Especially not Brigid."

"We're your sisters. Why keep it from us? Look, just let me take him to the hospital. Let them handle him. They have big strong burly orderlies that—"

"No." A deep voice cut into Deme's words. The back door to the vehicle opened and the man got out.

Selene ripped her door open, but not in time.

One second he was holding on to the door, the next he'd crumpled to the ground.

Her heart beating hard against her ribs, Selene dropped to her knees. "Are you all right?"

"I don't need your help," he said.

Deme stood over them both, her fists planted on her hips. "Like hell you don't."

"I won't go to a..." He lay still with his eyes closed, his breathing shallow, almost nonexistent.

Selene slid one of his arms around her neck. "Help me get him up."

Deme sighed. "Stubborn witch."

Selene's lips twitched. "Shut up and get his other side."

Deme lifted his arm to drape over her shoulder, but as soon as she moved it, he jerked, growling like a rabid animal, his teeth peeled back over sharp incisors. With her head down to get the arm over her shoulder, Deme didn't see the pointed fangs.

But Selene did. Her stomach flip-flopped and she ducked her head to avoid Deme's gaze. "Just get an arm around his waist and help me haul him to the stairs." To him she said, "Could you manage to stay with us long enough to help yourself down a flight of stairs?"

"Must get below," he said through gritted teeth.

"That's where we're going, just help us get you there." Selene glanced across at her sister. "Ready?"

"Whenever you are." Deme's arm tightened around his waist.

Selene stepped forward at the same time as Deme.

The man between them lurched and stiffened, then a low rumble rose in his chest.

"Either stop growling, or I'll drop you here and leave you on the pavement," Selene threatened, her voice sharp, her back straining under his weight.

"You go, sister." Deme grunted, easing toward the building and the next hurdle. The steps.

The rumbling abated, but his grip tightened around Selene. He snorted. "And I thought you were an angel come to rescue me."

Deme laughed out loud.

Selene shot an angry glare at her before she responded. "Hardly. I'll be your worst nightmare before this night is over." She shuddered thinking of how she needed to clean his wound and how painful it would be for him. She guessed he wouldn't like it in the least.

When they reached the narrow stairs leading down into the basement apartment of the shop, Deme laid the man's hand on the rail and moved down the steps in front of him. "The stairs aren't wide enough for three. You'll have to help yourself down the stairs, big guy."

The man groaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, the hand on the rail turning white with the strength of his grip.

Selene turned his face toward her and tried to probe his mind.

His chaotic thoughts were a jumble of pain, darkness and overwhelming sadness.

Unable to bear the ache and sorrow, Selene jerked out of his head and swayed.

"What is it?" Deme asked.

"Nothing. I just can't read his mind." She could sense emotions and pain, but not thoughts or words. She'd have to use other means to get through to him. "Listen, mister, if you want to get off the street and lie down, you have to help me get you down these stairs. Do you hear me?"

He moaned and leaned heavily on her.

"Wake up." She shook his good shoulder. "I need your help."

"No angel," he muttered, his eyes opening.

"I'll be the devil himself if that's what it takes to get you down those steps. Now, move!"

Deme chuckled. "Didn't know you had it in you, sis. Sure you don't want me to get him down here? I'm bigger than you are."

"I got him." Selene fished in her pocket for her keys and tossed them to Deme.

Her sister hurried down in front of Selene and the stranger to open the door to the little apartment.

Straining against his weight, Selene stepped down first. In a combination of deliberate steps and clumsy falling, she got him down the short flight so quickly he slammed into the door frame.

The big man roared, his eyes flashing open, exposing deep, tawny gold irises, like a lion.

Selene gasped.

"What?" Deme leaned past the man to stare out at her sister. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, no." Selene couldn't meet her sister's gaze. "Let's get him to the bedroom." No need to worry her sister. Especially when she wanted her to leave as soon as she got the injured man settled. If Deme had seen what Selene had, she'd have this man out of her apartment so fast his head would be spinning more than it was already.

By the time they reached her antique cast-iron bed, the man teetered on the verge of passing out. He was more a dead weight than a help. Or that's how he felt to Selene, bearing the brunt of his weight. He leaned toward the bed, but she held on.

"Not yet. You're soaked to the skin." Selene pushed him toward Deme. "Hold him up while I get his clothes off."

"You're going to strip a stranger?" Deme asked.

"You want the honors?" Selene quipped. "He's not lying in my bed in those wet, smelly clothes."

"Why is he going to lie in your bed? I'm not liking this arrangement, Selene. You don't know this guy. He could be a serial killer."

"I can't leave him on the streets, Deme." Though her back hurt, she held on to the man. "Look, if it makes you feel better. I can sense that he won't hurt me."

Deme's lips pressed together and her eyes narrowed. "You said you couldn't read his mind."

"I can't read his individual thoughts, but I can tell he's harmless to me."

Deme stared hard at her sister. "I'm not convinced, but I'll hold on while you do the stripping. I don't think Cal would be thrilled to know I'd stripped a strange man." She took over by sliding beneath the arm Selene had been holding him up by. "Just hurry. He weighs a ton."

The man groaned, his knees buckling.

Selene helped Deme straighten him, then she went back to work, reaching for the waistband of his trousers. She wasn't a virgin, but removing a strange man's tattered pants was...well...disturbing. She quickly flicked the buttons loose and stripped the damp trousers down thick muscular legs coated with a fine layer of tawny hairs.

Her heartbeat quickened when she realized he wore nothing beneath his trousers.

Breath caught in her throat and she hurriedly removed his pants, setting them in a pile on the floor.

"Holy smokes, the man is hung like a frickin' horse!" Deme grunted and almost fell over. "Damn, I think he's out again. It's all I can do to hold him up." She shifted his weight, leaning hard to keep him up.

With her heart already beating a rapid tattoo inside her body, Selene hoped Deme wouldn't mention the man's nakedness again. Her older sister couldn't be happy about this stranger being totally nude in her sister's bed. She'd never leave him alone with Selene at this rate.

Selene knew, by way of her "gift," that she had to get Deme out of the apartment before she tried to clean this man's wounds. Something about him screamed danger. But not necessarily a danger to her. Those eyes, that growling and the roar, were only the beginning, she feared.

Deme wouldn't understand. She didn't have the gift of spirit like Selene.

Trousers off, completely naked, the man swayed. Selene helped Deme maneuver him to the bed, where they sat him on the edge and laid him back gently, lifting his feet up onto the mattress. Once settled, Selene pulled the sheet up over his legs and hips.

Selene went to work on the padding she'd tied over the wound, pulling it carefully over his shoulders, easing the fabric caked in sticky blood loose from his injury.

He sat straight up, his hand reaching up to grasp hers in a surprisingly strong grasp.

"Easy now. We have to clean it so that it doesn't get infected," she said in a stern but gentle tone.

His grip loosened, his hand falling to his side. Golden eyes, glassy with pain, stared at her before they rolled back in his head again, and he slumped against her.

Selene braced herself to keep from falling over with his weight.

Deme moved forward to steady Selene. "You got him?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Selene and Deme held on, lowering him back to the mattress. Once there, they stood back and flexed their arms and shoulders.

Selene took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm sure you have to get back to Cal. I can take it from here."

Deme crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not leaving you alone with him."

"Yes, you are. If I need your help, I'll call you. I have you on speed dial."

"Selene, be serious. You don't know him and what he's capable of."

"I told you. I can sense he won't hurt me. Trust me, Deme. I need you to leave me and go check on the woman who was attacked earlier."

"He could be her attacker." Deme's brows rose and her gaze captured Selene's. "Your sense of spirit has been wrong before, hasn't it?"

Selene shook her head. "Never. And no, he didn't attack the woman." She knew beyond a doubt this man wasn't the girl's attacker.

"Still, I don't feel comfortable leaving you with him." Deme's cell phone buzzed and she pulled it from her back pocket. "Hey, Cal. What's happening?" She listened for a minute, her gaze going from Selene to the man on the bed and back to Selene. "Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes." She clicked the off button.

Selene's brows rose. "Cal wants you at the hospital to question the woman, doesn't he?"

Her sister nodded. "He'd like you to be there, too."

Before Deme could finish the last word, Selene was shaking her head. "I'm not leaving him. His wounds must be treated."

"He's unconscious. We could take him to the hospital with us and let the professionals fix him up."

Selene stared down at the man's pale face. "Even if I wanted to, we couldn't get him back up the stairs."

"The woman regained consciousness. I need to get there before they knock her out completely."

"Go. I'll be fine." Selene didn't wait for her sister to leave—she started gathering supplies to clean and bandage the man's shoulder.

"Well, then, I'll check back here when I'm done at the hospital."

"No need. I tell you, I'll be fine."

Deme snorted. "I'll be here." She touched her sister's arm. "Be careful, and whatever you do, don't trust him. You're my sister and I care about you. I don't want you to be the next woman in the hospital, or dead."

Selene took Deme's hand and squeezed it. "Then trust me. I know what I'm doing,"

"Fair enough." With one last pointed stare, Deme left.

As the door closed behind her sister, Selene filled a bowl with hot water and set to work cleaning the wound.

She dabbed at the dried, caked blood all around the jagged, ripped skin, careful not to cause him more pain. But the effort was hopeless. She'd have to scrub to get the dirt and grime off. She applied more pressure, anxious to get the river water off and treat him for infection with one of her mother's poultices made of the dried herbs she kept in her pantry.

After she'd cleaned the skin surrounding the injury, she took a breath and, with a fresh, clean cloth, attacked the wound itself.

Her first dab was hesitant and as gentle as she could be and still get it clean.

The man, whose hair was drying to a tawny gold, jerked with each touch. As she worked toward the center of the jagged, torn skin, his chest rumbled, his body tensed, the muscles in his arms seemed to grow.

Selene tried to hurry but she didn't want to be careless and hurt him further. Her next touch set him off.

He flinched away and a bellow erupted from his throat. His back arched off the bed and his arms and legs writhed against the sheets.

Selene jumped back, tripped over his pile of clothing and fell hard on her butt.

The man rolled to his side, away from her, twisting and jerking, his skin stretching taut over bulging muscles. Thick golden hair sprouted from the skin covering his back, arms and neck. His hair grew longer, thicker and coarser around his head.

The man's back arched again and he roared, falling to the floor on the opposite side of the bed from where Selene sat on the floor in stunned silence.

As soon as he hit the ground, another roar echoed off the walls of the small bedroom and knocked sense back into Selene. She pushed to her feet and threw herself across the bed.

If he continued to thrash around, his wound would start to bleed again.

"Stop it," she yelled. "Whatever's happening to you, stop it now." Selene's heart raced as she stared down at the back of an animal that appeared to be half human, half lion. "What are you?"

He roared again, his back bowing upward.

Selene fell back on the bed, knowing that deep inside, this man was in pain, and the pain wouldn't get better until the injury was tended to. Pushing back her fear, she forced her voice to be calm while she shook inside. "If you don't get back in the bed and lie still, you could die. And I'll be damned if you die on my watch."

The beast's body stilled, the only movement the heaving of his chest as he breathed in and out, his thick, hairy skin twitching.

Taking a deep breath, Selene slid off the bed and crouched on the floor beside the huge creature, touching his uninjured shoulder. "Please. Let me help you."

He flinched away from her.

"You might as well let me help you. I know your secret now. We're past the awkward part. I know why you don't want to go to a hospital. But that doesn't mean your wound can't be treated here." She touched him again.

This time he didn't withdraw.

Taking that as acquiescence, Selene urged him to roll over onto his back.

He laid still, his eyes those of a lion, staring up into hers, unblinking. The hairs on his naked body receded back into his skin, the huge bulk of his lionish muscles reduced to those of a bodybuilding hulk of a human.

Selene reached for his hand, her own shaking. "Come. Get back in the bed where I can clean that wound."

His eyelids fluttered.

She tugged on his uninjured arm. "I can't do it for you and you're not staying on the floor."

He let her help him back into the bed, where he lay completely naked, his skin returning to normal.

Selene's breath caught in her throat as her gaze ran from his toned calves up to thick thighs to the juncture of his legs, where a thick, hard erection, bigger than any Selene had ever witnessed in her limited sexual experiences, jutted upward. As she ran the sheet over his body, she forced her gaze up to his head. The angles in his face eased from the animal he'd become back to the handsome, clean-skinned complexion of the man she'd rescued from beneath the bridge.

Once settled, he lay as still as death, his face pale, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Selene collapsed on the chair beside him, her heart racing, her confidence in the world she'd known shaken even more. What had she gotten herself into? This man obviously wasn't human. Selene laughed shakily. Deme would be livid if she knew what she had in her apartment.

Selene shook her head, staring at the man lying so innocently against her clean white sheets.

What the hell was he?