“Andrea, what did you do?” Dylan sounded angry, but his scent betrayed his alarm.

“I didn’t do anything,” Andrea said. “I mean, nothing more than I normally do. I close my eyes and see the wounds as threads, and I try to untangle them. I hadn’t even started—it was such a mess.”

Ellison coughed. “Well, whatever it was, can you see if it will work on me?”

“Now, please,” a new voice said. Female, small but loud—Maria, the young woman Ellison had fallen madly in love with.

Andrea and her Fae scent moved from Tiger, leaving him relatively alone with Carly. “You did it,” Tiger whispered. “The mate’s healing touch.”

“No,” Dylan said sharply before Carly could answer. “This was more than that. You, my friend, are becoming more of a puzzle instead of less of one.”

“Whatever,” Carly snapped at him. “Instead of questioning him and lecturing him, how about getting him home so he can rest? He saved my life, and I think he deserves a little quiet for that.”

* * *

When Tiger woke again, he was in the big loft on the third floor of the Morrissey house, in the room where he now slept.

He liked this room, large and breezy with four windows, one on each side. After a life spent in darkness, shut away, not knowing winter from summer, sunrise from sunset, now he could see the world he’d missed. Sometimes Tiger simply sat up here, watching the Shifters move through their lives, gazing at the many human houses and buildings that surrounded Shiftertown, the cars and people that rushed through, never knowing he watched over them.

Now he woke in the large bed they’d bought for him, holding Carly’s hand.

“Why didn’t ambulances come?” Tiger asked. For some reason, this was what preyed on his mind. There should have been ambulances, police, and men with tranq guns, as there had been in Ethan’s neighborhood on top of the hill.

Carly bent over him, her green eyes full of concern. “I don’t know. Maybe the Shifters told them not to.”

Tiger started to shake his head, then stopped as it started to pound. “Humans don’t do what Shifters say.”

“I have no idea, then. Doesn’t matter. You spurted those bullets out of your body, and your wounds are already closing. Andrea says it’s crazy. Dylan says that sure, you’re faster at healing than most Shifters, but this is something new. Even for you.”

“You were there.”

“I know I was there. I saw it firsthand.”

“The touch of a mate.” Tiger squeezed her hand, finding himself so weak he barely moved her fingers. He hated being weak.

“Don’t even look at me like I have some kind of magic powers. This isn’t the movies. And anyway, Dylan said no.”

“Dylan doesn’t know everything.” Tiger’s lips twitched. “He only thinks he does.”

“Yes, well, Liam said no too, and Sean, Andrea, and Ellison, and a really, really big man called Ronan, and a ten-foot blonde named Glory.”

“Dylan’s mate,” Tiger said, his voice too faint for his comfort.

“So I gathered,” Carly said. “She looked at me like she’d take a piece out of me if I wasn’t nice to you.”

“What happened to Walker? The shooter was dressed like Walker.”

“Walker was taken to Ronan’s house—I think that’s what I heard. They didn’t want him here when you got back.”

“I need to talk to him.” Tiger pushed aside the sheet and lifted his shoulders off the bed, then groaned and fell back. “I’ve never hurt this much before.”

“I bet you never tossed bullets out of your own body before.” Carly stroked his fingers, the cool of her healing running through him again. “They’re pretty freaked out downstairs. Talking about you.”

“Why aren’t you?” Tiger asked.

“Downstairs? I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

He’d meant why wasn’t she freaked out, but he let it go. “Because you’re my mate.”

Carly frowned, which pushed her bottom lip out a little, so sexy. “About that. Connor explained to me what you mean by mate. We need to talk, but we can wait until you feel better.”

Tiger wanted to laugh, but he decided it would be too painful. “Sean says that the four scariest words a woman can say are we need to talk.”

“Could be. But not now. Lots of time for talking later.”

“You’re my mate,” Tiger said. “Nothing to talk about.”

“Mmm hmm. Close your mouth, sweetie. Sleep. Get better.” Carly leaned down to him. Her lashes fluttered against his lips before she slid up to kiss them. “And thank you for saving my life. Those bullets went into you so they wouldn’t go into me.”

“Anytime,” Tiger whispered. Another cool breath of her slid through him, another kiss, and Tiger fell into a vast well of sleep.

* * *

Liam Morrissey’s anger climbed another ten notches before he hung up his cell phone and slammed it to the kitchen counter. He’d walked out here alone to take the call, but Dylan had followed him, ostensibly to retrieve a beer from the refrigerator.

“Who the hell blabbed to the council?” Liam asked, fists on the counter. “Dad, did you?”

Dylan shook his head in his quiet way. “I’m not leader anymore, lad. I don’t talk to the others without your knowledge.”