He hesitated, then smiled. “All right. I shall try.”

My goodness, what a lovely male specimen, no matter his species.

Too bad that ill-tempered, possessive wolves were more her type. One tattooed, goateed, übermacho wolf in particular.

“Zander, is there another empty room he can occupy, perhaps one close to mine? I’ll take full responsibility for his liberation.”

“I don’t know, Kira,” he began, frowning.

“Nick gave me the chance to prove I could make a difference. How can I do that without a little cooperation? Work with me. Sariel won’t harm anyone here, and he wouldn’t have fought you all if he hadn’t felt threatened. Right?”

“This is true,” he said gravely. “I would never harm another unless in self-defense.”

She gave Zan her best pleading look, and after a few seconds, he relented—though he wasn’t thrilled.

“It’s not only your ass on the line if you’re wrong; it’s all of ours. But I’ll go with it, for now.” He gazed past her to Sariel. “You cause trouble, and you’re on your own. Nothing personal.”

The faery pressed his lips into a thin line and inclined his head. “I understand.”

Hammer returned, thrusting a pair of army green and brown camouflage pants and a green T-shirt, along with socks and boots, at Sariel. “Couldn’t find that fancy getup you were wearing. Best I could do on short notice.”

Sariel eyed the garments dubiously. Kira doubted a Fae prince had ever had an occasion to dress up like a clump of turf, but he was too nice to say so.

He took them, managing a polite, “Thank you.” Which earned some points of approval all around, however unintentional. “But I can’t put them on unless these are removed.” He lifted his bound hands.

Here was the test. If she was wrong about Sariel, they were screwed. Zan looked to Hammer, who nodded. They were aboard. Zan removed a set of keys from his pocket and flipped through them. Finding the one he wanted, he unlocked the silver cuffs and the attached mesh gloves. The Fae male flexed his hands, and then expressed his thanks.

“Once again, you have my gratitude. Allow me a moment?”

She breathed a sigh of relief, and they slipped into the hallway, leaving the door cracked a bit so he could come on out when ready. Kira heard clothes and feathers rustling, some muttering, and finally he joined them. He was dressed except for the shirt, which he held aloft. She was struck again by how thin he was, and made a mental note to get him to eat.

“I can’t get it in place over my wings,” he explained. “Perhaps one of you might be of assistance?”

“Shoulda thought of that,” Hammer said. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out a small knife and flipped it open. “Hold it up so I can see the back.”

He did, and Kira grabbed the edge of the shirt, pulling the material taut. Hammer went to work and made two long vertical slits at the shoulder blades.

“Try it now.”

Sariel pulled on the shirt, and then Kira helped by gently guiding each wing through the slit. They were a bit tight going through and the fabric tore some, but once in place he stretched one, then the other, seeming satisfied. Kira stared, unable to get over their magnificent span and iridescence.

“Much better.” He swept his long, blue locks over one shoulder and regarded them with a regal tilt of his head. “To my quarters?”

On the way, they caused a little excitement. Dr. Mac and another woman wearing a white coat were walking with a couple of people wearing scrubs—one young man and a third woman—who might’ve been nurses or lab techs. The group stopped and stared, openmouthed, at the entourage. The woman with Mac, the one in the lab coat, stepped into their path, her expression morphing from incredulity to anger.

“Excuse me, but what’s going on here?” Her eyes swept over Kira and then apparently dismissed her as unimportant in the matter. She turned her attention to Zander and Hammer as the others with her exchanged whispers. “Where do you think you’re going with Blue? I didn’t authorize any order for my patient to be moved.”

The woman’s chin lifted, dark eyes snapping with anger. Her tone left no doubt about who ruled this little corner of the compound. Behind her, Mackenzie gave Kira a nod, her expression encouraging.

Kira returned the gesture and turned her attention back to Mac’s friend. She immediately recognized this woman’s type from her own work experience. The names and address had changed but the song remained the same. This steely woman with the short cap of black hair would be the alpha bitch, the one who could choose to make her life here a living hell, or not. Whether or not she was also a fair-minded person and well liked among her colleagues, Kira would soon find out.

Zan handled her smoothly. “Hey, Doc, good to see you. Now that our new pal is up and around, we have some introductions to make.” He waved the Fae male forward, who came to stand at his side. “Sariel, this is Dr. Melina Mallory. Melina, this is Sariel, prince of the Seelie High Court.”

“Displaced, as it happens.” Sariel swept a bow, and then regarded her steadily. “Doctor, we’ve met before, but it’s good to make your acquaintance under less stressful circumstances. Call me by my given name; it is much simpler.”

The doctor in question stared at the faery in amazement, mouth agape. Quickly, she regained her shaken composure. “Sariel. It’s good to see you up and about, and willing to talk. Who do we have to thank for this positive turn of events?” Though she sounded sincere, she also appeared a little wary.

Sariel waved a hand at Kira. “My new friend persuaded me to give your hospitality a chance to make a difference for me. I don’t know how long I can impose myself upon you all, but for the time being I will live here and abide by your leader’s rules.”

Dr. Mallory nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t think you’ll be sorry.”

A wave of emotion rolled off Sariel, catching Kira by surprise. Had she really felt a deep, profound regret and sadness emanating from the Fae prince, or was she simply projecting her own feelings? It had happened the first time she’d seen him weeping, his emotions pouring over her like a waterfall.

It had happened when she met Jaxon, too.

Before she could puzzle over this more, Dr. Mallory addressed her. “You must be the new assistant Nick and Dr. Grant told me about this morning. You’re quite the busy bee already.”

While not unfriendly, her tone held a note of censure as she slid a brief side glance toward Sariel. In doing so, she silently made it plain that while she wouldn’t take issue with Kira’s initiative in front of the others, she’d appreciate being kept in the loop in the future.

“I’m Kira Locke. I apologize if I’ve stepped on any toes,” she said, injecting as much sincerity into it as possible. “I simply couldn’t stand to see Sariel so unhappy and I wanted to help.”

“Yes, well, that’s understandable. Nobody wants that for anyone living here. We’ll discuss the other residents of Block R later, all right? I’ll give you some insight on them before you continue your work.” So the doctor was tough, but wasn’t the type to berate her subordinates in public.

Good to know. “That sounds fine. I’ll come down to see you this afternoon, if that’s okay by you.”

The older woman looked satisfied. “Buzz me first to make sure I’m not in the middle of something in the lab or with a patient, but that should work.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Nice to meet you, Kira. Sariel, I want to examine you after you’ve had a chance to settle into your room. How about after lunch. Three hours?”

“As you wish.” The faery leveled the doc with the full force of his brilliant smile, causing her to blink at him a couple of times before looking to Zan and Hammer.

Lust. It was suddenly radiating from the outwardly stoic doc, as well as a distinct wave of . . . fear? Vulnerability? Didn’t anyone else notice? Nobody seemed to. Kira stifled a giggle and thought she must be losing her mind—though if she hadn’t already, she was probably safe.