Highland Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set

by Unknown

  The card reader beeped and the little light turned green, the door popped open, and she stepped inside. The first door on the right was a stairwell and she slipped through the door, heading down to the basement. At the bottom of the steps, she cracked the stairwell door an inch, peeking out into the hallway as best she could. There was no sound so she opened the door and stepped into the hall.

  Cold fluorescents lit the empty hallway and Aspyn shivered again, this time from nerves. There was nothing as desolate, to her, as an empty hospital corridor, especially one that led to the morgue. She took a deep breath, instantly regretting it as she inhaling the weird smells that always seemed to hang in the air in the basement. The incinerator was down here somewhere and the air always smelled of chemicals and burned garbage. She didn’t want to think about what the morgue was going to smell like.

  The door to the morgue was marked with a small nameplate below a small round window, lit by a dim light from inside. Someone was in the morgue.

  “Shit.” Aspyn stopped in the hall. It could only be an orderly or Margaret. Unless they were doing an autopsy in the middle of the night. It would be just her luck to walk in on the coroner or someone from his staff preparing a body.

  Then it hit her; what if someone had discovered Callum’s body was missing? There could be all kinds of staff in the morgue, someone far more inquisitive than the orderly or Margaret.

  “Shit,” she repeated. There was nothing she could do but brazen her way past whoever it was. With more confidence than she felt, she stepped forward and pushed open the door.

  Faint rock and roll music reached her as she walked down the short hall, breathing a sigh of relief as she passed the darkened offices of the coroner and her staff. She rounded the corner, stopped and backpedaled. A pool of light highlighted a small desk set in a little alcove. Her heart stopped. She didn’t want to deal with the orderly or anyone else. Flattening herself against the wall, she leaned forward, peeking around the corner. And then stifled a chuckle.

  The orderly who’d come to take Callum’s body was sitting with his feet propped up on the desk, chair tipped back, eyes closed, snoring lightly. Aspyn breathed a sigh of relief and then caught herself. She still had to get into the room where they kept the bodies, find Callum’s belongings and then get back out.

  She stepped around the corner and worked her way down the hall, edging past the desk, eyes never leaving the orderly. The morgue door was at the end of the hall. An anxious crawling feeling had started at the base of her spine, like ants moving under her skin. She wanted to run but forced herself to move forward slowly.

  The double doors were right ahead, the round windows dark. She set her hand on one door and pushed. Nothing. She pushed harder, leaning against the door. No movement; the door was locked.

  Panic flooded through her, hot and sour. Out of frustration she bumped the door with her hip. The other door moved slightly. She reached over and pushed against it and it swung inward with a slight squeak. I’m such an idiot. She glanced back at the orderly. He was still snoring.

  Aspyn pushed her way through the unlocked side of the double doors. It squeaked as it swung shut and she put her hand against it and stood on tiptoe, peering back out through the window in the door. The hall was still empty. The crawling feeling still played across her back and she tried to ignore it. She turned away from the doors.

  “Shit.”

  Ahead was a wall of freezer doors, behind which she assumed the bodies were kept. All of them were closed. She had no idea where Callum’s body would be—had been. He’d apparently done a good job of covering his escape. Nothing seemed out of place, there were no bloody footprints on the floor. Now how the hell was she supposed to find Callum’s belongings?

  She crossed to a small desk in the corner. There must be a computer program that tracked all that stuff, but the monitor on the desk was dark. She tapped the keyboard but the monitor came to life with a screen asking for a password.

  “Shit…” I need a new swear word. Aspyn tapped her finger on the desktop, scanning the room. She wanted to hurry but she was lost as to where to start. The idea of looking through each freezer horrified her.

  Think. “There has to be a system here. It’s the hospital for fuck’s sake. There’s a procedure for everything.”

  Procedures. She spun around. Behind her was a book shelf crammed with anatomy books and three-ring binders. Scanning the binders she found what she wanted, the procedure manual for the morgue. Yanking it out, she dropped it on the desk with a thud. She winced, glancing at the doors.

  Running a finger down the index page, she found the section on handling the belongings of the deceased, and flipped the binder open. Muttering to herself, she skimmed through the convoluted hospital language. Finally she found what she wanted. And cursed again.

  “Lock the valuables envelope in the safe.” Time for that new swear word, Aspyn. “Fuck.”

  She glanced around the room. The safe was beside the desk and she stared at it. It was a big square thing with a combination. Her heart sank. This was hopeless.

  Her eyes fell on the cluttered desktop and she let out a something between a moan and a giggle. Tossed among the papers was the envelope with Callum’s belongings. Apparently the orderly outside wasn’t a stickler for hospital procedure. Thank God for lazy employees.

  She snatched up the envelope and stuffed it into her purse. She didn’t really care if anybody noticed if it was gone or not. The fact that there was missing body would probably take all their attention, at least for the near future.

  There was a noise in the hall and she jumped, biting back a yelp. The morgue door swung gently back and forth and she held her breath, waiting for the orderly to come through it. But it didn’t open all the way. Aspyn crept slowly toward the door, peeking through the window. The orderly was gone from the desk.

  Not wanting to waste any advantage, she bolted through the door, ran down the hall and burst through the outer door into the hall. She skidded to a stop just as the orderly disappeared around the far corner. Aspyn headed in the opposite direction, sprinting toward the stairs and the employee exit.

  The cool night air chilled her and she realized she was sweating. Forcing herself to slow to a walk she made her way to her car. Hands shaking, she fumbled with the key in the ignition, grinding the starter. The engine finally caught and she sat for a minute, waiting for her heart to slow and the heater to kick in.

  Her whole body started to shake and for a minute she thought she was going to be sick. She rolled down the window and gulped in the night air. It’s just the adrenaline. I’m fine…I’m okay. I’m not going to throw up.

  She finally put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot, turning the car toward home. The drive seemed to go on forever. When she pulled up in front of her apartment she let out the breath she’d been holding. This night had gone from strange to bizarre. All she wanted now was to give Callum his stuff and get him out of her apartment. And hopefully that would be the end of being tangled up in whatever delusions Callum had.

  * * *

  As soon as she’d left, Callum had flung himself down on the couch, exhausted from the attack, the aftermath of the injuries, then waking up to find himself in the morgue. He was running on fumes now and wanted nothing more to find something to eat and then sleep. But he knew both were probably a long way off.

  Callum heard Aspyn’s car long before she pulled up to the apartment. For the first time since the attack he felt something close to relief. It was premature, certainly, because he still had to get back to Scotland, to confront Malcolm. It was overwhelming, but at least she’d come back. And hopefully she’d found his things.

  He sat up as he heard her key turning in the lock. She slipped inside, turning the lock with a decisive click.

  “I got it.” Aspyn pulled the envelope from her purse. She sounded a bit breathless and he caught the harsh scent of adrenaline running through her.

  He reached out for the envelope
and he saw her hand was shaking. “Thank ye, Aspyn.” She moved past him into the kitchen and he heard water running. He tore the top off the envelope, dumping his meager belongings on the pass-through counter. The sight of the blue-covered passport was the best thing he’d seen all day.

  “Did you have any problems?” He glanced up. She was drinking a glass of water and he watched as she drained the entire thing before shaking her head.

  “No. Piece of cake. Maybe I was a cat burglar in a previous life.”

  He smiled. It was better having her with a sense of humor than having her terrified of him.

  Picking up the talisman, he lifted the chain to his neck and snapped the clasp behind his head. Just feeling the weight of it against his chest was a relief. He flipped open his wallet. The scummy plastic driver’s license was still there as was his credit card.

  “You travel light.”

  He met her gaze. “I do. It works for me.”

  She set the glass down. “No pictures, nothing personal?”

  He frowned at her. “Wallet’s for money, not personal stuff.”

  It was pretty clear he wasn’t going to volunteer anything. “You do have one problem though.” She tipped her head to the side. “I highly doubt they’re going to let you on any plane wearing those.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “Plus you smell pretty rank, to be honest.”

  Callum looked down at the dirty green scrubs he was wearing. It was the first thing he’d found, in the used laundry hamper, and he’d put them on without thinking. And she was right; he did smell.

  “Aye, well. I guess you’ve got a point.”

  Aspyn watched him a moment and he sensed a change in her, some shift in her perspective. She may not believe him yet, but the terror had receded he sensed she wanted to help him. Or else she really just wanted him gone.

  “I might have something you can wear. And you can take a shower here, if you want.”

  He followed Aspyn down the hall to her bedroom, watching as she rummaged in the back of her closet. The room surprised him; it was neat and clean, but seemed empty of the kinds of things he’d expect to find in a woman’s bedroom. There were no framed pictures of family, no trinkets, no trays overflowing with jewelry. It was more like an impersonal hotel room than a bedroom.

  Aspyn turned back from the closet, eyeing Callum critically. In one hand she held a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and shoes in the other. “The jeans are probably going to be too big in the waist and too short. The shirt will probably be okay. Shoes…” She shrugged. “That’s a crap shoot, I guess, if they’ll fit.”

  He took the clothes. There were fresh waves of anxiety coming from Aspyn, something to do with the clothes, not him. Despite his own unease about everything, Callum was curious about her, and more to the point, about the owner of the clothes she’d given him.

  “Ex-husband or ex-boyfriend?”

  She looked up at him, eyes flashing, setting her hands on her hips. “None of your business. Just because you shared your life story with me doesn’t mean I have to share anything with you.”

  Callum took a step back, surprised by the sudden flare of anger. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask the wrong question. It’s just…” He looked around the room. “It just seems like…”

  “Like what?” She took a step forward, poking him in the chest with her finger. “Listen, you’ve got your passport and your talisman thing. The deal is you get those, then you go. I’ve done my part.” She turned on her heel and left the room.

  He stood for a moment, totally confused by the turnabout in her attitude. It was pretty obvious he wasn’t the only one with a complicated life. In Aspyn’s case, Callum suspected that life included a man, and by her angry reaction to his question, a man who’d hurt her.

  * * *

  Aspyn heard the shower start running as she walked back to the kitchen. Her glass was on the counter. She wanted something in it other than water. Scotch would be good. She’d even settle for a beer. The tension in her neck and between her shoulders was killing her, and she rolled her head from side to side, but that only made her head hurt worse.

  She picked up the glass, swearing under her breath. Her hand was shaking. She turned to the sink and let the water run a minute, then filled the glass. With any luck this was going to be over soon. Callum would be clean, dressed and then out of her apartment, and her life.

  It bothered her that she’d lost it when he’d asked about the clothes. She’d tried to push the memories attached to those clothes out of her mind, but seeing him holding the t-shirt and jeans had opened up a door she’d wanted to keep shut.

  Losing her cool wasn’t something she ever did. It was something she was trained to maintain and she was proud of being able to face all kinds of emergencies at the hospital and remain calm.

  But there was nothing like a strange man breaking into her apartment to shake things up. Then he’d spun this wild tale about being a werewolf. It was all so far-fetched she really had no idea what to think anymore. She’d have been better off going against her instincts and calling the police in the beginning, and she kicked herself for not doing just that.

  The shower stopped and her heart kicked up a few beats. She frowned and took another drink of water. Callum affected her in a way that was distinctly uncomfortable but all too familiar. He was charming, but so were a whole lot of crazy guys.

  It finally hit her. He was unpredictable, charming and on the dangerous side. And that was exactly like the owner of those clothes. He was far too much like Charlie for her comfort.

  “I tried not to use all your shampoo.” Callum came around the corner into the kitchen, and Aspyn tried hard not to stare. He was shirtless, dark hair a damp tousled mess. Her eyes traveled over his chest. All the lacerations were gone, even the deepest ones, leaving no trace they were ever there. The burnished gold talisman rested against his tan skin, the dark hair that covered his chest trailing down to a trail that disappeared into the waistband of the jeans. And as she’d thought, the jeans were too big. They hung from his narrow hips, revealing far more of him than she was really comfortable seeing in her kitchen.

  “Whatever you used is fine.” She pulled her eyes back to his face and felt her own flush hot. From the way he looked at her and the smug smile on his face, she was pretty sure he knew what she was thinking.

  “I need one more favor from you.” He leaned against the doorway and she caught a whiff of her floral shampoo. But on Callum it smelled anything but feminine. It was one more disconcerting thing she had to deal with. The sooner he was gone, the better. But now he wanted something else.

  “Are you hungry? I don’t have much…” She reached for the refrigerator door. But Callum shook his head.

  “I need internet access, a laptop or something. I have to buy a ticket to home.”

  “Oh…yeah. Okay.” She pointed to her desk in the corner of the living room. “I’ll boot it up for you.”

  She moved past him. He followed and she was conscious of him behind her, again too close. She pulled out her desk chair and dropped down into it. Callum leaned over her and she decided he definitely had problems with maintaining personal space.

  The laptop came to life and her fingers hesitated over the keyboard. She glanced over her shoulder at Callum.

  “Do you mind? I don’t want you watching me type my password, not with your photographic memory.”

  He took a step back and she didn’t miss the scowl on his face. She quickly typed the password, opened up a browser window and pushed her chair away from the desk.

  “All yours.”

  But Callum wasn’t looking at her. In fact, he ignored her completely, turning his back to her, his entire focus on the front door.

  “Hey. Did you still want…”

  She was half out of her chair when the door burst inward, torn completely away from its hinges. Her chair fell over as she bolted to her feet as two men came through the ruined door. They were focused on Callum, but it only took them a few secon
ds to realize she was in the room.

  “You take him. I’ll make quick work of her.” The short stocky man wearing dirty canvas pants took a step toward Aspyn. His face was almost divided in half by scars that ran from the corners of his mouth toward the sides of his face. It gave the impression he was smiling, even though his lips were compressed into a thin line. He eyed Aspyn with look that made it clear he’d really want to take his time with whatever he was going to do.

  The other man grinned. Aspyn caught sight of yellowed teeth, some missing. Both men stank, an acrid smell that had her eyes watering.

  “Aye. I want another crack at this bugger.” Teeth gave a nasty laugh, lunging at Callum.

  Callum dodged, spinning around behind Teeth and jumping on the man’s back. Callum looked up at Aspyn, teeth gritted, face distorted in rage. His hands were around Teeth’s neck.

  “Damn it, woman. Run!”

  Aspyn looked away from Callum. Scar Face was coming toward her with a calm certainty that chilled her to the bone. Aspyn tried to take a step around the struggling Callum and Teeth, but they were rolling on the living room floor, blocking the hallway to her bedroom. Scar Face stood between her and the front door.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw the baseball bat, lying half under the couch. She’d lost track of it after Callum had wrenched it away from her. She feinted right and Scar Face lunged. Keeping low, she dodged left, crossing the short distance to the couch. Staying low, she grabbed the handle of the bat, pulling it out from under the couch.

  She turned, holding the bat in both hands. Scar Face was already coming at her and she set her feet, squared her shoulders and cocked the bat. For a moment she saw confusion flicker in Scar Face’s eyes but he kept charging. She stood still, trying to remember to breathe, waiting for him to get in the sweet spot in front of her. When he did, she swung the bat as hard as she could, shifting her weight, putting all she had into it. She swung for the fence.

  The swing was perfect, connecting with the side of his head. For a split second he stood stock still, a comical look of shock on his face. Then, in slow motion, he dropped to the floor. Blood welled from his nose and ears, and she was pretty sure he was dead.