“He nearly killed you.”
“Did he?” she asked as calm as could be.
The relief she felt at still being alive was overwhelming in its intensity. Energy crackled through her—life itself, vitality—call it what she would. She was alive, and boy did her body know it; she felt horny as hell.
“How long ago?”
That fazed him. “What?”
“How long ago was I injured?”
Brauer’s eyes darkened. “They brought you in three nights ago.”
“No.” That couldn’t be right. She would still have bandages and nasty bullet holes.
“I assure you—”
“What about my injuries?”
“What about them?” he asked warily.
“Where the hell are they?” The fear smell intensified and with it her own fear. “Spit it out, I can take it.”
Brauer hesitated and she thought he might leave, but he stopped himself with only a half step to give him away. “You were attacked by a shifter.”
Lord and Lady not that… please no!
She stared at him and kept staring. A shifter. A shifter had attacked her, but that didn’t mean… did it?
“Did you hear me?”
“I heard you, Doc. You said I nearly died. I’ve got it, haven’t I?”
“We believe so,” Brauer said solemnly.
Chris nodded. No wonder he was frightened. A shifter had attacked her. A shifter. Oh, Goddess let this not be happening. She would wake up and find it was all a nightmare. She squeezed her eyes shut, but when she opened them, Brauer was still there watching her.
“My partner, he’s dead isn’t he?”
Brauer shook his head. “He’s fine, he wasn’t with you.”
She blinked hardly able to understand him. Ken hadn’t been with her. Why not? Where the hell was he when that animal destroyed her life? Where was he when… She took a deep shuddering breath, and let it out, another and she felt calm slowly returning.
“When can I get out of here?”
“It’s not that easy. We have you on fluoperazine-triphosphate. It’s the only thing we have to suppress the change, but you can’t stay on it forever.”
“Tranquilliser,” she said, recognising part of the name.
No wonder she felt so calm. She knew quite a bit about drugs. She saw all kinds of weirdness on the streets. Drug abuse was one of the least weird. The IV made it so she could take anything, even the news that she was screwed for life. If it weren’t for the needle in her arm, she would smash everything in sight. She wasn’t sure that she could stop herself if she got started.
“Same group as major tranquillisers,” Brauer agreed not noticing her introspection. “Fluoperazine-triphosphate only has the one use. It’s a dangerous drug for a couple of reasons, but so are…”
Shifters. So are shifters. That’s what he had been going to say. She fiddled with the IV making Brauer nervous. She considered ripping it out and letting her anger take her. It would be so easy to let it go.
Do it.
She almost jumped out of her skin. Pull out the needle and do what, change into a poodle? It would be just her luck. A werepoodle! She laughed. She laughed so hard it hurt, and then she laughed some more. Brauer bolted. The door slammed shut behind him. That made her laugh harder than ever. She didn’t notice when the laughter turned to tears. She sobbed her heart out and then—then the rage came. Pure rage. Hot fury. A shifter had turned her into an animal. She had to find him, so she could turn him into dog meat.
Poodle meat.
She screamed in laughter.
* * *
7 ~ An Offer
“And that’s all for this week. I’m Susan Ash.”
“And I’m Pete Travin.”
They held the smiles for the camera. After a count of three, they both relaxed and let their shoulders slump. They were off the air. They dropped the smiles and gathered up a few items, notes mostly, and left the set. Camera operators finished up and the stagehands moved in to arrange the set for a different show due to air live in the morning.
As the first lycanthrope to come on the show, David had felt an obligation to remain on hand, but he hadn’t been needed. Susan came to join him and he put on his professional smile for her.
“David,” she said hesitantly. “I’m glad you waited. Are you busy tonight?”
Not another seeker! Goddess, they made him want to gag. How many really wanted him, really wanted what he could give them? None. They wanted the sense of danger. They wanted to be able to shock their friends and tell dirty stories about how they had screwed a shifter in the Change. If it ever happened, they would be in no condition to talk—or breathe for that matter.
“Dearest Susan, I dare not go with you. How should I control myself? With one such as you, I would have no chance.”
Wasn’t that the truth! He would rather kill her than take her to his bed, but she took his words the way he had intended.
Susan blushed. “I understand, David. It’s for the best we not get involved.”
David watched her go and allowed the smile to slip.
“That was well done.”
He pivoted on the spot, warily watching Geoffrey approach. “I don’t kiss on first dates.”
“You don’t date,” Geoffrey said, still smiling.
“Your point?”
“Just an observation.”
“The hell it was.”
Geoffrey laughed. “You know, even I’m surprised at how far you’ve managed to go.”
“You shouldn’t be. You know me better than most.”
“True. Are you going to take her under your wing like you did me?”
“Who, Susan?”
Geoffrey’s eyes glittered. His power rolled off him and over everyone nearby. The stagehands rubbed their arms as short hairs stood to attention.
David narrowed his eyes and refused to be moved. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“I can still stop you, Geoffrey. Don’t make me. Please, not here.”
“I don’t—”
He released his own Presence—the powerful essence of a pack alpha. Geoffrey’s eyes widened at the sudden rush and he stepped back. He bared his teeth in a silent snarl of anger and lashed out. David blinked in surprise at the strength of the push.
“Don’t, Geoffrey. Don’t push.”
“You don’t own me, David.”
David glanced around to see if anyone had noticed what was happening, but so far they hadn’t done more than rub chilled arms.
“Please. I don’t want to do this. Not here.”
“Shame,” Geoffrey said, and allowed his power to roar out.
David stood in the centre of the storm. His skin crawled as if a million invisible ants ran over him. Geoffrey’s scent suddenly flowed everywhere around him. He gasped and panted as if unable to get enough air—he was drowning in Geoffrey’s Presence. Mist—his beast—stirred. They were under attack… under attack by an alpha male younger and weaker than they were. That’s all Mist knew or cared about. David was suddenly under siege from within as well as without. Muscles writhed and burned as Mist tried to trigger the Change, tried to claw his way to freedom. David dared not let him out, he dare not. Not here.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and slammed Geoffrey with everything in him.
Geoffrey staggered back and crumpled to one knee. What he felt David could only guess. Alpha he might be, but Geoffrey was still the weaker. The attack had felt like drowning to David, but to Geoffrey? By the look on his face, it felt like being burned alive. The muscles of Geoffrey’s neck corded as he writhed in pain. He screamed in silence, he had no air with which to voice his pain.
Afraid someone would see, David reined in his power and stepped forward to help Geoffrey up, but he needn’t have worried. The stagehands had already found other places to be. None would know why, but at times like these, a Human’s subconscious knew elsewhere was a fine place to be. It would instinctively take th
em there.
“Are you all right?”
“Don’t touch me!” Geoffrey gasped, still shuddering violently.
“I’m not touching you, all right?”
Geoffrey forced himself unsteadily back to his feet. He pulled his Presence in so tight, he could have passed for human before an entire pack.
“I’m sorry. I can’t let you hurt what I’m trying to do here.”
Geoffrey wiped sweat from his face with a shaking hand. “We’re not human. When will you admit we can’t live like them?”
“I know we’re not, but does that mean we have to live like animals?”
Geoffrey shook his head wearily. He stood quietly with his hands tucked into his armpits and hugged himself—radiating hurt.
“Come on,” David said trying to sound cheerful. “You’re here now. You might as well join us.”
“Where are we going?”
“Like you said before, I have a broken wing to mend.”
Geoffrey fell into step beside David. “The hospital?”
“You said it yourself. I have to take her under my wing.”
“Goddess…” Geoffrey breathed in sympathy for the Society’s newest recruit. They stepped out of the studio together and made their way to the car. “Do you know who did it?”
“Not yet, but I will.”
Geoffrey thought about that for a minute.
The others were waiting for them in the car. David didn’t know how Geoffrey had come to be at the studio, but it didn’t matter. He could send someone to pick up his car—if car there was.
David climbed into the back but Geoffrey hesitated. He leaned head and shoulders inside. “You don’t know who. Do you know what?”
“No.”
“Goddess…” Geoffrey breathed and sat opposite David behind the driver. “Let me do it.”
“Not like you are.”
“I’m fine.”
David stared at him in silence. Ronnie started the car and pulled out of the station’s parking lot.
“All right,” Geoffrey said. “I’m not fine, but I can handle one little girl.”
“We can handle one little girl. You I don’t know about.”
Geoffrey opened his mouth to protest, but then he thought better of it. He was learning.
Traffic was heavy. A shooting outside a car dealership caused the traffic to back up when rubberneckers slowed their vehicles to gawk at the victims and blood splashed over the sidewalk. Ronnie played a beat on the steering wheel impatiently. The scent of blood was heavy in the air, and it was having its effect on all of them, but she kept herself under control. That was good. Her furry side couldn’t drive.
David snorted as he imagined Callia sitting up front with her tongue hanging out grinning at passers-by. Geoffrey’s puzzled face darkened in anger.
“Don’t be so touchy, Geoffrey. Not every smile or thought I have is about you.”
“No?”
“I was thinking that Ronnie is remaining remarkably calm, and that it was a good thing because Callia can’t drive. Satisfied?”
“Oh… sorry.”
“Try not to be so sensitive. I know it can be hard sometimes.”
Geoffrey lapsed into silence.
“Hey, Boss,” Lawrence said from his place next to Ronnie. “The Prof came on pretty strong didn’t he?”
“You saw the broadcast?”
“Yeah. You want me to pay him a visit?”
“Absolutely not!” David cried in alarm. “I want you to put the word out that he’s off limits. No one is to go near him. We can’t afford being branded as out of control animals, especially not now.”
“We already are,” Geoffrey said sullenly.
He ignored that. “We have to keep everything quiet. Whoever did the cop will answer to me for it, but not in public, and certainly not anywhere that might jeopardise the coming vote on the amendments.”
“You don’t really think it will matter do you?” Geoffrey asked. “Humans see what they want to see.”
“I know that, but this will give us rights we can build on. Besides, we aren’t the only ones involved. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to piss off the elves.”
“Yeah,” Ronnie said. “And what about them little guys?”
“Dwarves don’t care one way or the other as long as they’re left alone,” David said, “but what about Stephen? The vamps love President Mitchell, and he’s backing the changes. Under the new laws, slaying a vampire would be murder.”
“I knew this country was messed up,” Ronnie said with a grin.
David stared out the window as they passed the crime scene, not really seeing the blood, but his beast saw it all right. He could almost taste it.
“Put some music on, would you?”
Ronnie nodded and music filled the car. David listened intently and Mist subsided. It always worked for him. In his case, music really did soothe the savage beast. He watched the city rolling by and concentrated on feeling the peace flowing from the speakers.
Mercy Hospital hadn’t changed much from his time here except in one respect. Not many hospitals had an army of reporters encamped at its doors. Uniformed police made an ominous sight in their all-black uniforms and body armour. They were here to keep order, and for a wonder, they seemed to be doing their jobs. With their hands casually hanging beside their weapons, and their heads constantly in motion looking for threat, the officers surveyed the crowds with anonymous faces safely hidden behind visored helmets. The crowds knew to keep their distance. No one wanted to feel the pain an expertly handled shock-lance could inflict. A reporter would be foolhardy indeed to cause trouble here.
David looked upon the police as unavoidable obstacles, but it was hard sometimes. All he could reasonably expect to do was work around them. Working with them had proven impossible. How many times had he attended funerals knowing the police had made the funeral necessary? How many times had he been on the receiving end of those shock-lances so casually carried on hips?
“What a circus,” Lawrence said as they climbed out of the car.
“Everyone keeps their temper in check. No excuses,” David warned. “I don’t want to see one hair of your furry sides where that lot can see.”
They all knew what was at stake and didn’t argue. Not even Geoffrey. The four of them walked through the army of reporters without stopping. Questions were shouted; some David would like to have answered, but not today. The new recruit was more important than satisfying a journalist’s curiosity. The police stilled their survey of the crowd the instant they recognised what had come calling. David could feel their intense stares. It was a relief when all they did was watch them enter the hospital.
The security checkpoint came and went without difficulty. Security knew him and Lawrence. They visited often—too often. David nodded to Bill behind the desk, but he wasn’t surprised when he received a blank-eyed stare in return. Bill was a friend to the Society, but expecting him to admit it where others could see was unrealistic.
They proceeded toward Isolation. They need not ask the way. Indeed, all but Ronnie was born again in this hospital. Born again furry. Better than saying ripped to shreds and awakening whole, David had always thought.
Coming to the hospital always brought back the memory of his attack. A bitch—a female shifter—had attacked him one night and changed his life forever. He awoke in hospital feeling rather horny a few days later. His beast caused it of course, but he did not know that then. Andrew explained that he had been reborn a new man that night. Even then, David knew his friend was wrong. He wasn’t a new man. He wasn’t a man at all anymore. He was a disease—a very infectious and dangerous disease. He had tried to regain his old life after the attack, but he was destined to fail. Luckily, fate took a hand when he found Ronnie. She showed him what he could do, what he was, and a new life had unfolded before him. He didn’t miss his old one—much.
At the enquiries desk he asked for Doctor Brauer.
“I’ll page hi
m for you, sir.”
“Thank you,” he said and wandered over to the drinks machine. He bought himself and the others bottled water. None of them could stand the excuse for coffee these machines provided.
“Brauer again. You’d think he’d get tired of this line of work,” Geoffrey said, and sipped water from his bottle.
“Hmmm.” David smiled. “You know, I think he might secretly be a seeker.”
Lawrence shook his head at the thought. “No way is Brauer a thrill-seeker. He just likes hopeless causes.”
Geoffrey nodded up the corridor. “Talk of the devil.”
“Good to see you again, David,” Brauer said, hurrying to meet them with his hand outstretched.
David shook and made introductions. “You know Geoffrey and Lawrence of course. This is Ronnie. I’ve mentioned her, but I don’t think you two have met.”
Brauer stared. “I would remember.”
“Andrew?” David said with a small smile. Ronnie affected most men like that.
“Oh yes, sorry. You’ve come for Chris.”
“You did call me.”
“I know, but I think I made a mistake with her.”
“How so?”
“I told her what happened,” Brauer said. He looked down trying to avoid David’s eyes.
David glared hotly. Damn him! How could he be so stupid? He was supposed to leave things to them.
“I see. How did she take it?”
“She laughed.”
“Laughed?”
“Hysterically,” Brauer said.
That was a new one on David. Anger was common, rage of course followed. Despair always came last of all, but he had never heard of hilarity being part of the process.
“Can we see her?”
Brauer nodded. “I need your word you’ll not hurt her.”
“You have it of course. She’s one of us now. We look after our own.”
“She might not see it that way.”
“Has she said anything?”
“Not in so many words. It’s a feeling. She won’t let this slide.”
Of course she wouldn’t. None of his people had let their attacker escape punishment. Making a new shifter was criminal. None of his pack would make a new recruit. It was a rule.
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