"No," Elizabeth said decidedly, and let Ronan lead her from the grisly scene. Julio Marquez was gone--who knew where, and Elizabeth didn't want to ask. She had no doubt that Pablo would gleefully claim that Zach Casey's territory was now his. He was not the kind of man who did favors without thought of personal gain.

By the time they reached the barn again, Ronan was staggering, and he collapsed at the same time Ellison broke out of the crowd with a Shifter medic behind him.

Ronan was in incredible pain, Elizabeth saw. He'd lost a lot of blood, his body torn where the wolf had clawed and bitten him, his neck bruised and blackened from the Collar's abuse. He needed a hospital, but the Shifters weren't about to take him there.

The medic cleaned the wounds and then ordered Ronan to change back into a bear, a form in which he'd have more strength for healing. Ronan groaned as he shifted, and three Shifters had to help him climb into the bed of Ellison's pickup. Ronan looked for Elizabeth, his gaze betraying so much pain that she climbed into the truck with him.

Ellison and Spike lifted a blue tarp over the pickup's bed and began to tie it down.

"Hey!" Elizabeth called. "Suffocate us, why don't you?"

Ellison pulled a rope tight. "All loads in Austin have to be tarped, and he qualifies as a load. Besides, I don't want cops wondering why I'm driving around with an injured Kodiak in the back of my truck."

Elizabeth understood his point. They positioned the tarp so that Elizabeth and Ronan had plenty of airflow, their skill telling her they'd done this before.

The tented truck bed was warm in the night, Elizabeth cuddling against her bear. Elizabeth held on to Ronan as the pickup bumped down the long dirt track, Ronan grunting in pain every time the truck hit a rut on the washboard road.

Elizabeth held Ronan close and buried her face in his fur. He smelled of blood but also of warmth and himself. She'd fallen hard in love with him, but that was not so surprising, she thought as she stroked him. Ronan had helped her at every turn and never asked anything of her. He never did, from anyone.

She was quietly crying by the time Ellison pulled up at Ronan's house and shut off the engine. Rebecca came running out as Ellison untied the tarp, Cherie, Mabel, and Olaf following. Mabel pulled Elizabeth into an embrace while Rebecca helped Spike and Ellison get Ronan out of the truck. Rebecca instructed them to put him in the Den--there was a big bed there, she said, and they wouldn't have to try to get him upstairs.

Ronan shifted back to human as he came to his feet. He tried to stagger inside on his own, but Ellison and Spike ended up half-dragging him between them.

Ronan groaned as he hit the bed. His face was wan from too much blood loss, the bite and claw marks again oozing blood. His breathing was shallow, his pulse too rapid.

Elizabeth and Rebecca covered him, and Rebecca brought out bandages and antiseptic. But who knew what was going on internally, or what damage the shocks from the Collar had done?

"He needs a hospital," Elizabeth said.

Rebecca shook her head. "The human medical world still hasn't figured out Shifters. They might kill him trying the wrong thing."

"We have to do something . . ."

Elizabeth broke off as the door darkened and Sean Morrissey strode in, the Sword of the Guardian on his back. Both Rebecca and Cherie jumped to their feet, eyeing Sean with similar looks of terror.

"No, Sean, not yet," Rebecca said, pleading. "We don't need the sword yet."

"I know that, lass," Sean said. "But you do need my mate."

Andrea stepped inside, her pregnancy evident behind her loose, light shirt. Without a word, Andrea came to Elizabeth, gave her a brief hug, and then sat on the bed next to Ronan. In silence, she peeled back the sheet, laid her hands on Ronan's bare chest, bowed her head, and closed her eyes.

She stayed in that position for a time, unmoving except for her brows drawing together in concentration. Cherie buried her face in Rebecca's shoulder. Mabel, next to Elizabeth, squeezed her hand. Olaf said, in his loud, child's voice, "Ronan will die?"

"No, lad," Sean said. "Not tonight."

The sword on Sean's back emitted a soft ting. Elizabeth's gaze went to it, but the others in the room didn't seem to notice. Maybe it was supposed to do that.

Andrea drew a long breath. Then, to Elizabeth's amazement, the big cuts on Ronan's throat started to close. As she watched, the wounds narrowed, dried, and fused, leaving long scabs in place of the chewed and serrated flesh.

The bruises and cuts on Ronan's face and around his Collar started to fade, and Ronan's breathing eased. After a long time, he let out a sigh and opened his eyes.

He looked around at the people who encircled his bed--his family, Elizabeth and Mabel, Sean and Andrea, Spike and Ellison--and he flinched. "Oh, this is embarrassing."

"Better embarrassed than dead," Andrea said, patting his arm. "Stop doing this, Ronan. I'm getting tired of patching you up." She started to rise, then winced and put her hand on her distended abdomen.

Sean was at her side. "All right, love?"

"Fine." Andrea rubbed her belly. "There's a lot of kicking going on down there. I think she wanted to help me and was mad that she couldn't."

"Oh, can I feel?" Mabel asked brightly. "I love babies."

Andrea let Mabel place her hands on her stomach, while Sean looked on, both fond and protective.

"Hey, what about me?" Ronan asked. "I'm the fallen hero, here."