Saint blanched visibly. “I didn’t do anything. When I came into the room, he’d changed into a wolf. He was frantic, fighting the transformation. It usually happens that way the first few times and—”
“You were biting him,” Christina accused.
“I was holding him so he didn’t hurt himself. I don’t know any more about this than you do, Christina.”
“You liar. How can you claim not to know anything? He’s a wolf—like you.” Something caught her eye and she struggled to a sitting position.
“Kavya,” she said through numb lips when she saw the Magian’s impressive figure sweep into the room. He said nothing, but approached the whining wolf at the foot of the bed.
He drew a small rectangular box from the pocket of his robes. He uncapped the end and Christina saw a needle. “No, wait…don’t.” She started to stand again, but Saint held her on the bed with his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t you touch my son!”
Kavya knelt. The pleated fabric that draped from the top of his odd hat fell onto his sculpted features. The ornate mahogany footboard blocked her vision, but a few seconds later, the wolf went quiet. Kavya stood.
“I can explain, Christina. I was going to earlier, but then…well, better late than never I suppose.” He bent and lifted Aidan into his arms effortlessly. Christina whimpered when she saw he carried the familiar figure of her eleven-year-old son. She’d suspected Aidan had been that thin, suffering wolf, but seeing the evidence firsthand caused a wave of fear and nausea to sweep through her.
“We need to get him to bed. He’ll have a fever tonight. It’s always that way for a first change.” Saint helped her stand to make room on the bed for Aidan. He kept his hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged him off, staring at her son’s face while Kavya settled him on the bed. Aidan’s cheeks were unnaturally flushed and perspiration gleamed on his face.
“I need to take him to the hospital,” she said hoarsely.
“Have you forgotten you can’t leave Whitby?” Saint asked from behind her.
“Are you planning on keeping us prisoner here?” she challenged.
“If need be.” The fury in his gaze confused her. What right did he have to be angry?
“What the hell have you done, Kavya?” A chill went down Christina’s spine at the violence she sensed in Saint as he asked the question with lash-like intensity.
Kavya sighed. “You accuse me of making the boy a shapeshifter? Well…I suppose you might. The wolf possesses a pure, dignified animal soul. I deemed it best for my experiment.”
Saint moved so quickly that Christina didn’t even have time to blink. He wrapped his hand around Kavya’s throat and squeezed. “You were doing experiments on that boy?” he roared.
“Please…Saint… Calm down. Let…me explain,” Kavya grated out through a constricted windpipe. He inhaled raggedly when Saint lessened his hold slightly. “I haven’t experimented on the boy. I suppose you could argue that I am partially responsible for the boy’s wolf genes, but you are as much so.”
“Are you mad? I never would bite Aidan, let alone embrace him.”
“Of course you didn’t take Aidan in the Final Embrace. But you are responsible for his wolf aspects, nonetheless.”
Saint went still as he met Kavya’s intense stare. Christina sensed a message pass between them, but couldn’t comprehend its content. Saint’s grip on Kavya’s throat slowly released.
“That’s not…that’s not possible,” Christina thought she heard Saint mutter hoarsely under his breath.
“Silly to deny the obvious,” Kavya said as he smoothed his rumpled, dirty robes.
“What’s going on in here?”
Christina turned to see Alison standing in the doorway, wearing her jeans and a half camisole that revealed a silver ring in her bellybutton, her hair sticking out at various odd angles.
“Hey…what’s wrong with Aidan?” the girl asked. Her gaze transferred to Kavya. “Who’s he?”
“Saint, untie me,” Christina demanded.
Saint looked around. He seemed disoriented…dazed.
“I haven’t got time for all of this now,” Christina hissed. “My son is ill. I need to take care of him. Untie me.”
She saw his muscular throat convulse as he swallowed thickly. He nodded and moved behind her, loosening the knot he’d made in the silk braiding from the bedspread.
As soon as he’d released her wrists, Christina started anxiously toward Aidan. He felt hot beneath her fingertips as she stroked his hair back from his face. He moaned in his sleep. “Alison?” she asked without turning around. “Will you go to the coach house and get a few items for Aidan’s fever, please?”