by CJ Ellisson
Struggling to sit up, she noticed the thick bandages covering her chest and shoulder. It was then she remembered the beast’s claws, and closing her eyes she unconsciously ran her hand across the path they cut, shivering at the thought.
“It’s not a very pleasant memory is it?” a deep male voice asked from across the room.
Lily’s eyes snapped open tracking the voice to its owner. Shocked at who was standing across the room she gaped, “You!”
“Guilty,” he said with a shrug. He was sitting in front of the hearth, a low fire burning in the grate. Closing the book he’d been reading, he got up and walked toward the bed. Lily’s body tensed as he moved toward her, a predator’s grace in his gait.
“Sean Leighton,” he said with a hint of a bow. “It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance.”
“Lily. Lily Saburi.” Still a bit stunned, a flush of self-conscious heat flooded her pale face. He was the last thing she expected to wake up to. He was gorgeous, and she felt like what the cat dragged in. She swallowed painfully. “Forgive me. I’m still a little bit fuzzy. How did I come to be here?”
Sean gave her a quizzical look. “You do remember what happened, right?”
Lily nodded but didn’t say anything else, waiting for him to continue.
“You were badly injured, so I brought you here. Considering the circumstances, I thought it better for you to be treated at my private facility rather than at a regular hospital. Still, don’t worry, there’s a STAT MedEvac helicopter on the premises. If it had become necessary, we could have transported you to the trauma center in Portland at any time.”
“Impressive. I’m sure the helicopter must come in handy during rush hour,” she answered absently still trying to puzzle it together. Her eyes swept the room. It certainly didn’t resemble any hospital room she’d ever seen. The place was posh.
She glanced at the hospital gown synched up around her thighs, and her face grew warm again, embarrassed by the fact she wasn’t wearing anything beneath it.
“Where are my things? I know I was wearing a little more than this last night.”
“Actually, it’s been a week since you were brought in. Your clothes were ruined, and, unfortunately, we couldn’t find any other personal effects. I’m sorry. If you’d like, I’m sure we can find something else for you to wear once you’re feeling better.”
Lily’s mind was a jumble. She closed her eyes trying to collect herself as her memory came back in bits and pieces. “Wait a minute…,” she paused, frowning in confusion.
“I remember you fought that creature barehanded. You were hurt. I’m sure of it. So how come you’re walking around fine and I’m the one looking like I should be having last rites?”
“You actually look much better than you probably are. In fact, I think you look pretty good, considering. Still, if you must know, my injuries were mainly superficial.”
Lily watched his face. His eyes were intense despite his relaxed pose. She tried to sit up only to have her shoulder and chest scream in protest. Slumping back, she turned to say something, but when she looked at him her throat went dry and she couldn’t remember a single thing she wanted to say.
Perhaps it was the pain meds being pumped into her I.V., but her limbs were heavy and her muscle like rubber. She couldn’t look away, and his gaze made her want to slap on some lip gloss and run a brush through her hair.
Lily’s eyes traveled the length of his body, and she couldn’t help but stare. It seemed impossible he could look so good after the fight he had. She remembered with distinct clarity his skill as he fought—his power and his strength and how his body moved.
Leaning against the back of a chair, his long legs were crossed nonchalantly in front of him. He wore jeans and a fitted, long sleeved tee, and she couldn’t help but notice how the soft denim hugged his sculpted thighs. Though his arms were crossed in front of his chest, there was no denying the six-pack hidden underneath, as well.
She knew he was speaking to her, but for all she heard he might as well have been speaking Greek. Lily blinked.
What’s the matter with me? I’m laid up like death warmed over, and all I want to do is lick his thighs! Maybe I hit that tree harder than I thought…
Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced away hoping he hadn’t caught her staring.
“Lily, are you all right?”
Self-conscious she cleared her throat, grimacing slightly at the soreness. “I’m fine…you were saying?”
“Still pretty bad, huh?” he said, pouring her a cup of tea with a generous dollop of honey. “This should help ease the rough spots. In the meantime, rest. I’ll be back later. There’ll be plenty of time for questions when you’re better.”
“Wait,” Lily croaked, but when he turned all she managed was a weak smile. “Thanks.”
With a nod, he slipped quietly out of the room and Lily sank deeper into the pillows, exhausted. A hundred questions already whirled in her head, including why she felt like a cat in heat every time he looked at her.
Hands in his pockets, Sean walked quickly down the main staircase, the thick Aubusson runner muffling the sound of his hurried footsteps. His eyes narrowed as he glanced up the stairs, wondering about his unusual guest.
He should be wary of her. Based on what he already knew, it seemed to follow she was some kind of bounty-hunter. The supernatural community had faced their fair share of those over the years, but his gut told him there was more to it—more to her.
Over the past week, he had tried again and again to get past her mental boundaries, but between the walls she threw up, and the persistent haze of pain medication, it was nearly impossible. A fact that both intrigued and unnerved him.
There was something about her that held him captivated. As battered as she was, she still had a spark, a mystique about her. He couldn’t explain it. Her personality seemed as big as her body was petite, something he found ironic considering the weapons she carried.
Lily was undeniably beautiful. Her large, honey colored eyes were set in a soft, heart shaped face, and her skin reminded him of fresh cream, despite the large purple bruises. Her dark chestnut hair fell in a cascade of silk across her pillow, and her face and mouth were so expressive he found himself mesmerized just watching her sleep.
His body reacted to hers so powerfully, it stunned him. He was the hunter, the one used to calling the shots. She was like a fire that promised both heat and danger—enticing yet unpredictable.
“Mr. Leighton,” a voice called from behind.
Startled, he turned. “I’m sorry, Mary, I didn’t hear you. What is it?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but Dr. Volkmann has been asking for you.”
“Thank you,” he said walking past her toward the private elevators that led to the clinic two floors below. “I’ll be downstairs if anyone else wants me.”
“Yes, sir,” she called after him as he disappeared onto the elevator.
The doors to the lift opened into chaos. There were patients waiting to be seen and nurses and administrative staff rushed around in triage mode trying to keep everyone calm. From the look of things, it was obvious the distressing news had spread.
“Leighton! I’ve been trying to get you all morning. We’ve got the preliminary results from the tests we conducted on the samples recovered from the attack site. I’m afraid it doesn’t look good,” Ernst Volkmann, head geneticist at the Leighton Research Facility stated gravely.
“Not out here, Doc. Let’s meet in your office, in about thirty minutes. I want to make the rounds with the staff and then check up on Rissa and her daughter. Have someone call Mitch. We might as well let the Hunter’s Council know where things stand.”
Volkmann nodded and made his way toward the security doors that led to the restricted research part the clinic. He was a stout, little man who wore his lab coat like armor, but he was the best they had.
Sean waited, watching the doors click closed before heading through the double doors past admitt
ance. Once on the other side, he climbed one flight to a bank of privately held rooms. Knocking quietly on the first door, he opened it as a soft voice called, “come in,” from the other side.
The room was brightly lit, and looked more like a suite at a five star hotel than a hospital room. This morning, much of it was strewn with crayons, markers and every conceivable kid’s craft available as the television played softly in the background.
“Uncle Sean! Look what I made!” A squeaky voice said as he stepped into the living room.
“That’s beautiful, Stephanie. You drew that today?” he asked, taking the multicolored image of a horse from a rather sticky little hand.
“Mmmhhmm. I just drew it. Will you hang it up downstairs for me? Mama says I shouldn’t ask, but I like my horse and I think everyone else will too…it’ll make them feel better, don’t you think?”
“You betcha,” he said, tousling her hair. “I’ll hang it up for you but only if you promise to wash your hands and face. You look like a sticky mess monster!”
“Grrrrrrh,” the little girl answered with a giggle.
Sean turned as a weak chuckle came from the large hospital bed tucked into the corner of the room. Walking over he took the woman’s frail hand in his.
“How are you feeling today, Rissa,” he asked gently stroking her pale skin.
“I’m a little stronger today. They seem to think the virus has gotten about as bad as it's going to get for the time being. Now it’s just a waiting game,” she said as she ran her other hand over the large mound hidden beneath the covers.
“The baby moving much these days?”
“Yeah,” she chuckled and then grimaced a little in pain. “Dr. Volkmann thinks it’s a healthy sign, but since there’s no precedence for this, we’re all just taking it one day at a time.”
“Did they tell you we found Jerard?” By the tears that filled her eyes, he knew not only had she had gotten the whole story, but in much more detail than she needed in her condition.
“I’m so sorry, Rissa. If it’s any consolation he died instantly,” he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “He was stopped before he could hurt anyone else. You have my word, we did everything we could to try and bring him in first, but in the end, it wouldn’t have done any good. He was just too far gone.”
A thin trail of weak tears ran down her cheeks as she nodded. “I know, Sean. They told me. Is it true he injured a human woman, and as you tried to subdue him, she shot Jerard through the head?”
At her stricken face, he knew he had to tell her the truth. “No, Rissa, that’s not how it happened. Fuck, I hate gossip!” His voice was frustrated and angry, but he exhaled slowly, making himself calm down before he went on.
“I found Jerard in the woods not far from the Compound, and he was already in the process of attacking the human. He was intent on killing her, crazed with a kind of blood lust I’ve never seen. I called his name, but he didn’t seem to hear. I pulled him off the girl…there was no recognition in his eyes…just blind rage.
“He was so strong. Stronger than ten hunters, and that’s no exaggeration. I’m ashamed to say, he got the better of me. He would have killed me if the girl hadn’t shot him. I can’t attest as to why she was there, but it appears as though she was hunting something as well…maybe Jerard. She’s upstairs in the main house. We plan to learn as much as we can from her before we decide what’s to be done.”
Rissa took a deep breath folding her hands over her swollen stomach. “Thank you for telling me the truth. I’m glad it was over quickly then, and that you didn’t come to any harm. I don’t think I could have lived with myself if anything had happened to you. You do so much for us all.”
“Rest up, Rissa. If you need anything, just call, okay?” Nodding once, he kissed her forehead and started toward the door.
Stephanie ran up to him. “I washed my face, and hands Uncle Sean, now will you hang up my picture?”
Bending over he picked up the toddler, swinging her onto his hip. “If I promise, do I get a kiss?”
Squealing the little girl pressed her still wet face to his cheek and kissed it with a loud smooch. “There! Now hang up my horsey!”
A wide grin spread across his face as he put her down. “Yes, ma’am!” he said, giving her a mock salute. “Now be a good girl and help take care of your mother.”
Sean watched her bound off toward the television before glancing back at Rissa. Giving her half a smile, he waved before heading out to his meeting with Volkmann and news that would only bring her more sorrow.
Volkmann’s office was cluttered with medical books and papers strewn across the desk and in piles on the floor. He sat behind the mess, his glasses perched on top of his slightly balding head, and a grim expression on his face.
“The samples you retrieved confirmed what we suspected. Sean, your brother was infected with the pathogen we’ve been trying to isolate. It was just as you thought. His faculties were entirely compromised as the virus had already overtaken his mental and bodily functions. I’m so sorry.”
Templing his fingers the doctor continued. “What we’ve analyzed from the information gathered, is that the pathogen seems to have developed the ability to cross over into actual DNA. It mutates it, whereas before we thought it just wrapped itself around individual DNA strands, in effect holding them hostage.”
Mitch Paris, Sean’s second-in-command on the Hunter’s Council, looked back and forth between his boss and the doctor. “What do you mean by ‘holding them hostage’, Doc? Are you telling us this pathogen has some kind of metamorphic capabilities?”
Volkmann’s eyes were bleak as he looked at the two men sitting across from him. “Yes Mitch, that’s what I’m saying. This virus has the ability to change our DNA. It seems to manifest itself over the course of a single moon’s waxing and waning cycle. The end result is that the change in the DNA becomes apparent when the infected individual phases at the next full moon. In effect, it causes them to lose all ties with the human side of their nature. They become utterly rabid.”
“Holy shit! How do we stop the spread of this bug?”
Frustrated, Volkmann gestured with his hands. “That’s just it. We don’t know for sure where it was originally contracted or how it’s primarily transferred. We know it’s a blood borne pathogen. But we’re not sure if it’s coming from a food source or possibly from another creature killed or wounded during a hunt. It may even be something innocuous, something that only mutates when contracted by a supernatural host.
“We suspect it can be spread not only through the blood, but by sexual contact with an infected individual, as well. Hence the situation with Jerard’s wife and her unborn baby. Rissa is only five months pregnant. Although she’s tested negative so far, we won’t know for sure since pregnancy compromises blood volume, and she’s incapable of phasing while she’s with child. We also won’t know if the baby is infected until it’s born. Right now, amniotic testing shows nothing irregular, but how the pathogen will manifest in an infant is yet another question. Will signs of the madness show right away or will it wait until the child reaches puberty and phases for the first time? We just don’t know.”
Stunned, Mitch shook his head before turning to look at Sean. “What about the human girl? She’s still upstairs right?”
Sean nodded. “Yes, and according to the nurse’s report she’s healing pretty quickly. Considering how grave her injuries were, it seems to follow that her body siphoned some of Jerard’s Were traits when he attacked her.”
“But you said there was no transfer of blood between the two?” Volkmann asked a little perplexed.
“That’s right. As far as I know Jerard’s blood never mixed with hers, but his saliva did. In his crazed state, he was drooling, and much of it dripped into her open wounds, not to mention the fact that he bit her. Of course, he was bleeding pretty badly himself, so anything’s possible. Some of his traits must have transferred, there’s no other viable explanation for how qu
ickly she’s healing—but we haven’t run any tests yet to see if the pathogen transferred along with them.”
Mitch and Volkmann looked at Leighton in shock. “Why not, Sean? If this girl is indeed infected, then she’s a threat to us as well as to her own kind. You’re the Alpha Council, why haven’t you done anything about her yet? She should be taken out.” Mitch scowled, his voice incredulous.
Sean put his hands up defensively. “Hold on a minute. Like the Doc said, we have no idea if this pathogen is something that’s infectious only to us. Let’s not forget, she’s not dual-natured. And she’s most probably not a shifter either. She may be immune.
“Besides, there’s something different about her. I haven’t had the chance to brief you yet, but she wasn’t alone when I found her, and it doesn’t seem to add up that she was there randomly. You should have seen the heat she was packing.”
“Yeah, I heard some kind of crazy rumor she shot Jerard with a silver bullet. Stupid human myth! Have you interrogated her yet? Why was she out there armed to the hilt and so close to the Compound?”
“She’s been unconscious for the past week, and I didn’t take her out to use your turn of phrase for just that reason. I’m not going to kill someone when they are totally defenseless. Besides, we need to talk to her first.”
“You said she wasn’t alone. Do you want me to get a tracking party together to see if we can locate her partner? It’s been a week, and the scent will probably be obscured by now, but we should try.”
Sean chuckled. “You could put your best noses on it, Mitch, but it wouldn’t do any good. The person with her wasn’t actually a person…or at least not any more…she was with a shade.”
“A shade? As in ghost?”
“Yeah, if you can believe it. That’s why I said there was something about her. She’s certainly unusual, and I want to get to the bottom of it.”
Ernst Volkmann cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to interrupt your little strategy meeting, but can we get back to the business at hand? I have too much work waiting for me in the lab and not enough time to get it done. I want blood samples from the human drawn and sent to me as soon as possible. If she’s absorbed enough of Jerard’s traits, then she may very well be infected.”
