looked up, knowing what he’d find. The vampire had gotten back up and faced him, no doubt attracted by the scent of fresh blood. His glowing red gaze appeared transfixed by Mac’s wound.
Of course. As he struggled to hang on to fading consciousness, he wondered what would happen if the vampire drank his blood as he lay dying. Would he then be reborn, one of the undead, a new form of being, a lupine vampire?
Right. He groaned. As if there could ever be such a thing. Though Tearlachs existed, so why not?
As he peered up through a haze of pain, the vampire leaned closer, white fangs gleaming. It was going to bite him. Seriously? He bared his teeth in self-defense.
Kelly appeared, growling low in her throat. She forced the vamp to back away from Mac, keeping the monster from defiling a dying wolf and drinking and draining his blood.
Mac closed his eyes, letting out breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Hounds help him, he was glad.
The shifter appeared and lifted his gun. Kelly snarled, and leapt forward at the exact same moment that the bloodsucker did.
Bang. Once. Bang. Twice. And then a third time. Kelly kept going, apparently undeterred despite having taken three bullets. Three silver bullets. Or had they gone into the vampire?
Damn. Despite his pain, Mac couldn’t help but be impressed.
Dropping the gun, the shifter spun on his heel and took off in a speed-blurring run. The vampire, too, had vanished, nowhere in sight.
Blood dripping from her wounds, the wolf—Kelly—did not pursue.
Mac must have blacked out then. The next thing he knew, Kelly—in human form—cradled him in her arms. She gently shook him awake.
“Change back,” she urged softly. “I need you to be come human. Let me take a look at your wound.”
Struggling to focus on her incredibly beautiful face, he took a deep breath and willed himself to shift back to human form.
He was so weak that shifting to man took longer than usual. But finally, it was done and he lay, naked and bleeding, in her arms.
Her blood-soaked arms.
“You were shot, too,” he croaked. “Three times. Right?”
“No.” She sounded supremely unconcerned. “Only once, and I already took care of that. Right now, we’ve got to stop your bleeding.”
Already took care of … Damn it. The benefit of being a Tearlach. Invulnerable to anything and everything, except fire. Despite horrific injuries, Maggie would have healed, would have lived if the car hadn’t exploded. He let himself drift with the pain.
“Where are your clothes?” she asked.
Dazedly, he looked about for something to use as a makeshift bandage. “Over there.” He pointed.
She grabbed his sodden hoodie off the ground. “This will work. Hold still.”
Wrapping the hoodie around Mac’s leg, Kelly tied off a makeshift tourniquet.
“I hope this will stem the bloodshed. If you were full-blooded, a nonsilver-bullet gunshot wound would heal almost instantly. But because you’re a Halfling …” She shrugged. “It’ll take a bit longer.”
He couldn’t take offense, because she was right. Half lings healed only slightly faster than humans. Not that it mattered. None of that mattered now. No shifter, full or half, lived after being shot by a silver bullet.
The Tearlach crap be damned. They were both going to die. Strangely enough, this knowledge brought him peace. Truth be told, he had nothing, really, to live for. If he couldn’t have his children, he was ready to go.
Unless, the niggling thought wouldn’t go away, the legends were actually right about Tearlachs and their magical powers. If they were, he wouldn’t die. And neither would she.
Mind-boggling and probably the product of a dying mind. Wishful thinking. Yet once it had occurred to him, the thought would not go away.
Being around Kelly could save him. Might save him … No. Would save him. The true significance of the words she’d spoken. We are one—Mo Anam Cara. Spoken by a Tearlach, that meant he was under her protection. Which meant, in theory, like her he couldn’t die unless by fire.
Therein lay the appeal of her kind to the Protectors. And to their mutual enemies.
So there was a distinct possibility he might live. But first, as a fresh wave of agonizing pain swept over him, he realized he’d have to go to hell and back.
Mac moaned, drawing Kelly’s weary gaze. Now that their attackers had vanished, her first responsibility was to make him as comfortable as she could. She needed to get him in out of the damp, chilly mist. Despite his being the enemy, her impulsive binding of them together meant she couldn’t abandon him now.
Her house was in ruins. The other explosion had taken out several of her dog runs, though it hadn’t damaged the main kennel building or—she hoped—hurt any of the dogs.
Luckily, she’d kept a small office inside the kennels where she frequently did paperwork on a battered computer. There, she had a futon that could double as a bed, a shower she used to bathe the dogs, a toilet and a fridge. Nothing fancy, but until her home was rebuilt, this would be where she’d have to live.
And where she’d take the Pack Protector while he recovered. It wouldn’t be easy, the first time recovering from a silver-bullet shot. She remembered her first time, back when she’d been a wee girl of twelve. No, this man would suffer greatly on his road to recovery. By the end of it, he’d probably wish he was dead.
Again she eyed him. Luckily for him, he’d passed out from the pain. Now, how to get him inside the kennel. While the adrenaline rush earlier had enabled Kelly to get him outside, she doubted she could replicate that feat again.
Yet she couldn’t simply leave him here in the rain.
“Hey, Tearlach.”
To her shock, Mac had raised his head and called for her, his voice weak but steady.
“Don’t call me that,” she chided. “Now more than ever, it’s important that you forget you ever heard that word.”
He didn’t ask why. She thought maybe now he understood. Then, to her amazement, he pushed himself up on his elbows.
“Help me up,” he said, his voice gaining strength.
“Do you think you can stand?” His resilience amazed her. Still, she’d be surprised if he managed to stand, never mind walk. “If you can, I’ll help you walk to the kennel. It’s warm and dry and there’s a place you can rest. And it should be safe. The dogs will alert us to any danger long before it reaches us.”
Jerking his head in a nod, he pushed up to his feet. Though she rushed over to offer her shoulder for support, he waved her away, staggering a few steps forward before halting. Though he was breathing hard and swaying slightly, he looked a far cry better than he had just five minutes before, which meant he was healing fast. Almost as
