Wild Warrior (The Weavers Circle 2)

The front porch had five. But five was okay because it was a small number.

The “servants’ ” staircase off the kitchen had sixteen stairs, which wasn’t bad. It was narrow, making it feel a little claustrophobic, but he liked using it if there were people in the foyer or if he was afraid of running into someone on the main stairs.

There was nothing worse than losing count because someone stopped to talk to him or ask him a question. Panic would consume him, and he often needed to be helped back in the direction he’d started, so he could begin counting all over again. That was assuming he didn’t simply crawl into his apartment to hide for a day or two under his covers.

But he didn’t need to worry here. He had a system down, his meds, and everyone seemed pretty cool. The temptation was even there to come clean about his illness. Talk about fast! He’d been there barely more than a week, but then everyone had a relaxed, supportive quality about them. Even though he was basically an intruder, he felt welcome.

In the family room, he accepted a glass and sat on the couch. With the first sip, the burn spread all the way down to his stomach. He grimaced. Nope, still didn’t like whiskey. He was more of a beer drinker. He liked the occasional glass of red wine, too.

“I don’t know how you stand this. Staying here while they go out and fight,” he said. He’d been sitting on the couch for all of five seconds, and he was already itching to pace to the front porch.

“It may not necessarily be a fight.” Dane settled on the couch next to him. “They could just find the new Weaver and bring him home, though getting a complete stranger to come with you has to be challenging.”

“It wasn’t for Baer with me. I saw him shift into a cougar and couldn’t wait to find out more.”

Dane laughed. “Well, you are definitely unique.”

“I found out all my dreams were, in fact, reality. Of course I was intrigued.” He still was. He was dying to go out to their practice clearing to watch the magic but was too shy to ask. “I mean, I did get a little nervous about running off with this strange guy, but that unfortunately didn’t kick in until we were already here.”

Dane narrowed his eyes as one corner of his mouth quirked up. “And it had nothing to do with your attraction to Baer either.”

Wiley hoped he hadn’t been obvious, but he’d clearly failed. He squirmed on the sofa cushion and took a gulp of whiskey, choking on it.

“You didn’t think we wouldn’t notice, did you?” Dane asked with another laugh.

“We?”

“Of course. And Wiley…Baer returns the interest.”

His heart skipped a beat. “I thought…maybe, but I can’t imagine I’m the type to catch his eye.”

Dane’s expression turned more than a little smug. “Don’t worry, you have.”

Wiley was going to ask for more information, but the sound of a motor came from outside. He jumped up and hurried to the front of the house to see the Jeep pulling around to the garage. Home at last!

The first thing he saw as they came toward the back door was blood all over Baer. “Oh, my God!” He ran across the room to Baer’s side. “You’re hurt!”

Baer scoffed. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

“That bled an awful lot,” Wiley countered sharply. Baer’s shirt was completely soaked red. The wound on his shoulder wasn’t the only one either. He was covered in scratches and what looked like…bites. Small, ugly bites. “What the hell attacked you?”

“Rats.” Baer’s lip curled and his nose wrinkled. “Lots of stinking, nasty rats.”

Wiley’s first thought was rabies, and his stomach dropped to his feet. “Can Dane heal you from anything?”

“Don’t worry, we can’t catch anything from the rats. It’s just bites and scratches. Dane can heal those.”

“Plus, what looks like a freaking bullet wound in your shoulder.”

“I do seem to be the one who gets hurt the most in this group.” Baer gave a self-deprecating grin, but it wasn’t a full smile, weariness drawing his face taut.

“That’s not a reassuring thought, Baer!”

Baer pulled Wiley into his uninjured side. “I’m fine. Even without Dane, this is minor and could easily be patched up at the hospital. Nothing for you to worry about.”

Clay followed Baer into the house, with bite marks but no bullet wounds. “Baer, being his reckless self, charged at them in the form of a lion. I would have shot at him too if something like that was coming at me.”

Dane immediately starting fussing over both men, prodding them toward the couch. He hesitated over Clay, but his lover was already shaking his head.

“I’m okay. Take care of Baer first. He’s hurt worse.” Clay leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Rats are disgusting creatures. I can’t wait to shower.”