Chapter Fourteen

Nothing fancy, just jeans and a plain white T-shirt, but she’d never known a werewolf who could do that. This was real magic. She didn’t know how much real magic he could do. She didn’t know a lot about him other than he

made her heart beat faster and nudged her usual state of half panic away. She shivered, then realized it was cool in the house. He must have turned down the heat when he’d come to Chicago. She looked around and found a small quilted throw folded over the back of a rocking chair and snatched it up. Careful not tobrush too hard on his oversensitized skin, she laid the blanket lightly over him.

He lay with one cheek against the floor, shuddering and breathless.

"Toby?” Her impulse was to touch him, but after a change, the last thing she wanted was touch. His skin would feel new and raw. The blanket slid off his shoulder and when she lifted it to cover him again, she saw a dark stain growing rapidly on the back of his shirt. If his wounds had been of the usual sort, the c