by Lisa Kessler
Shark backed away with a glint in his eyes.
“No low blows, Shark!” Roddy yelled. “Next time you’re out.”
Oh, there wasn’t going to be a goddamned next time.
I rushed him, slamming him back into the ropes. He couldn’t escape my attack, trapped by a flurry of punches. My attack to his ribs had him breathless, and when he started to stumble sideways, I caught him, pinning him upright in the corner so I could hit his face. Again and again. Right, left, right.
“Okay, Wolf. Enough.” Roddy forced his way between my prey and me. “Damn it, Wolf, I’m callin’ the fight. Back off.”
I stumbled backward and Shark timbered onto the floor.
Oh shit. I’d lost myself to this dark pit eating away at my sanity. What the hell was I doing? Regardless of the beating this guy gave me or the kick to the balls, I had to help him.
His pulse thumped in a steady rhythm I had no trouble hearing with my heightened senses, but blood ran from a cut over his eye, and his nose and lip bled onto the mat. There was also a better than average chance he had a nasty concussion. I rushed over, tearing at the ties on my gloves with my teeth as Roddy counted down.
Ripping the glove off my right hand, I called to Marv. “Get me some ice and a clean towel.”
Roddy declared my victory while I pressed ice to the back of Shark’s neck. He groaned. Conscious.
Marv took over holding the ice pack on Shark’s skull, and I got up and out of the ring. Alone in my locker room, I rested my head in my hands. Every fight, it took more blood and more pain to quench the fire. I could’ve killed that man. Where was the line in the sand? Aggression and anger were changing me into someone I didn’t recognize. I’d taken an oath to preserve life. This…this club, these nameless fighters…I was far from my calling.
Tremors racked my usually steady hands.
I was spiraling out of control, and I didn’t have a fucking clue how to stop it.
Chapter Two
KILANI
It had been hours since my run-in with Dr. Ayers. Why couldn’t I let it go?
I stuffed my scrubs into the overloaded hamper by the door, kicked off my sandals, and dropped my keys into the hollowed-out coconut shell on the table. Exhaustion weighed on me, but my stomach’s demands for food kept me from collapsing on the easy chair. I scanned the fridge for something that was both simple to prepare and not spoiled.
Neither existed.
I slammed the refrigerator closed and snatched a banana from the fruit basket on the counter. Drawing the peel down, I wandered back into the main room of my studio apartment. My first bite drew a groan of delight. Either I was starving or this was the all-time best banana ever consumed on the planet.
Mid-bite, I sank into the chair and reached for the remote, ignoring the looming laundry basket. The trip to the Laundromat around the corner was imminent, but I could relax for a little bit first. The washing machines would be busy right now anyway. If I waited a couple of hours, the families should be gone. The last thing I needed was awkward conversations while folding my underwear. After all, I was supposed to be laying low in this town, not building a new network of friends.
But I couldn’t put it off another day or my hamper was going to have a blowout.
The channels flipped by as I clicked the remote. Habit, I guess. I didn’t even want to watch anything, not really. What I wanted was to be distracted from replaying my conversation with Dr. Ayers.
The guy had a chiseled jaw and light hazel eyes that demanded your attention. Not to mention his loose-fitting doctor’s smock couldn’t begin to hide the well-built body underneath. But his gorgeous exterior wasn’t what haunted me.
I’d been at his side while his father lay on the ground without a pulse. I’d witnessed him working with no regard for himself or anyone else, his only concern, his full attention, resting solely on saving his dad’s life. Moments like that revealed true character, true self, and although he never surrendered to panic, he’d radiated guilt, worry, and a quiet confidence.
Acceptance of his position, his responsibility.
But in spite of all that, Dr. Ayers didn’t admit his father to the hospital for treatment. It didn’t make sense.
None of my business. But if the head nurse traced the missing meds back to me, I’d be out on my ass. I should’ve been focused on keeping my job, not pondering what might be going on in Dr. Ayers’s mind.
My cell phone rang. I glanced over at my bag on the table while my tired body whined about letting the call go to voicemail. My aching muscles shut the hell up when my extrasensory abilities realized who was on the other end of the line.
My psychic ability to see into the future sounded like a handy tool, but it came with a huge catch. I could only see a couple of minutes ahead, and they were sporadic. Pretty useless, unless you were a nurse. Being able to know and anticipate what a patient needed before the doctor asked for it made me a commodity in hospitals.
It had also been my ticket to freedom, to getting off the island.
I scrambled up and grabbed my phone without wasting a second to check the caller ID. “Sebastian?”
“Kilani. We don’t have much time.”
The banana in my stomach turned to rock. “They’re here, aren’t they?”
“Your name came up on the weekly target list.”
“That sounds bad.” I stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears. “I don’t even know what Nero really is. I’m no threat. It’s not like I’m going to say anything. Not that I’d have any proof anyway.”
“You found Grace’s body. You’re a loose end now.” The phone rattled and his voice dropped in volume. “They have an entire country to search, Kilani. You should be safe for now. The last place they’d look is in Reno.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He cleared his throat. “Nero has enemies in Reno. That’s why I sent you there. You remember where to go if you sense trouble?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I still don’t understand why a horse ranch would be safer than going to the police, but I trust you.”
Silence. Did he hang up? I checked my phone. It said connected.
“Trust is what got Grace killed. Trust no one, least of all me.”
My pulse thrummed, my mind tumbling toward panic. “You’re not inspiring confidence.”
“Good. Be aware and watch. I do not want your blood on my hands, too.”
Blood. Everywhere. All over the bathroom mirror, the sink, the floor. And still I’d checked her for a pulse, nurse until the end. I clamped my eyes shut, tight, struggling to wipe from my thoughts the memory of discovering Grace’s body.
“You said Reno would be the last place. Where will they look first?” I didn’t want to hear the answer, but I had to.
“Hawaii. A team left last night.”
“Grandma Nani.” My legs wobbled.
“She doesn’t know where you are.”
“What if they hurt her?” My throat closed on a silent sob.
Sebastian paused. I’d found my roommate, his girlfriend, disemboweled in our bathroom. If anyone knew what Nero was capable of, it was me.
“They were ordered to kill Grace. Their orders are to gather information this time.”
It didn’t sneak by me that he didn’t deny they might hurt my grandmother. “I’ve got to warn her.”
“If you make contact, they’ll find you. I’ve done all I can. Don’t render my efforts useless.”
The line went dead. I swiped the screen to call history, but Sebastian’s number was blocked. Damn it. My grandmother wasn’t defenseless. She’d been a respected Kahuna on the islands for most of her adult life, quietly passing the ancient island traditions and beliefs to the families who came to her.
I’d been too hardheaded to listen. Young and certain I had all the answers. Too late now.
She’d have no warning if I didn’t think of something soon. I got up, pacing the room like a caged animal while my mind whirled. There had to be s
ome way to alert her about the potential danger. I glanced at my bare feet and stopped, staring at the turtle tattoo on my ankle. The honu, sea turtle, was the aumakua for our family, our protector. They were also messengers through dreams and visions.
Not that I truly believed it, but I was desperate. At this point, I’d be willing to give just about anything a shot.
I dug my iPod out of my bag and spun the dial until I found my stash of Neil Diamond songs. Grandma Nani was his number-one fan on the island. I used to roll my eyes while she belted out “Song Sung Blue” or “Sweet Caroline,” but as the distance and years grew between us, I started buying his songs and discovering fond memories of home.
Now I hoped it would help me connect with our honu. My grandmother used to get visions and prophetic dreams often. Maybe I could send her one.
Suddenly, I wished I’d paid more attention when she tried to teach me, instead of fighting every step of the way like a stubborn mule.
With my ear buds in place, I laid on my futon and closed my eyes. In the darkness, “Play Me” started. In my mind, Grandma Nani sang. I concentrated on every angle of her face, her long silver hair, and the deep lines from years of smiles that framed her dark eyes. A single tear leaked down my cheek as I made her image as clear as possible. My chest tightened, my heart clenching.
God, I missed her.
I pulled in a deep, slow breath, silently calling to our honu. The tattoo on my ankle glided through the inky depths of my thoughts. I coaxed it closer, wrapping my fear and worry for my grandmother around his flippers. Gradually, Nero’s logo of the proud lion head with an N emblazoned in the center, the same emblem I’d seen on the cornerstone of my school and on the inside of Sebastian’s wrist, glowed in our honu’s giant shell.
Nero is coming. They will lie. Kilani is safe.
The massive turtle turned so his wise eyes met mine. While he didn’t speak, his mind touched mine. He would find her, warn her.
And he loved me.
I sat up, tears streaming down my face as a sob choked my throat. I didn’t deserve his love. I’d dishonored my family and run as far from them as I could get. How could our ancestors feel anything other than disappointment in me?
I rubbed the tattoo on my ankle and whispered, “Please keep her safe. Tell her I’m sorry. For everything.”
The glass doors of the hospital rolled open as I approached. Before I made it across the lobby to the elevators, a familiar cheery voice called, “Mornin’, Kelly.”
I stopped. Hearing my alias still took me a second to process. I sucked at being undercover. I’d already dropped my real name with Dr. Ayers, too. Shit. Slowly, I turned around to find Stan, our volunteer greeter. He grinned, somehow coaxing a smile out of me. After last night, I thought I’d forgotten how.
“You feelin’ okay, lass? Look a bit under the weather.”
Stan was a widower, my first friend when I started here a few weeks ago. Although he was from Ireland, his wife had been a Nevada native, and after he lost her, he decided to stay.
“I’m okay, just didn’t get much sleep.” Any was more like it, but I didn’t want him to worry.
“This place workin’ you too hard?” He winked, and I nearly laughed in spite of the funk that had its claws buried in me.
“No rest for the wicked.”
“Bah.” He swiped at the air. “Not a wicked bone in your body.”
I stepped into the elevator and waved. “See you later, Stan.”
On the fourth floor, I walked out and froze. Dr. Ayers and my head nurse both turned in unison. He glanced at me and back to my boss. “That’s Kilani right there. Remember her now?”
Candace, the head nurse, raised a brow. “You mean Kelly Jones?”
“Kelly?” He almost flinched at the force of my I’m-pissed-at-you frown. Taking the hint, he faced Candace again. “Oh, Kelly. I must’ve misheard. My mistake.”
“And she’s the one who assisted you with a non-hospital patient?”
Oh shit, he was making it monumentally worse. I hustled over. “It wasn’t like that.”
Candace crossed her arms over her chest. “How exactly did you give him a full dose of glucose and insulin for a patient we don’t have admitted here?”
I opened my mouth, but Dr. Ayers beat me to it. “I take full responsibility. I had a patient in the medical office building who suffered from a potassium-induced arrhythmia. It was an urgent situation, and without Kelly’s prompt assistance, I probably would’ve lost him. I’m happy to sign off on the medication. My office can pay the hospital for it.”
She relaxed a little, but my pulse rate did not. “That’s a serious life-threatening event. Why wasn’t he admitted?”
“His health insurance,” he replied without hesitation. “He’s not covered in this facility.”
She cocked a brow. And I tried not to stare at Dr. Ayers. He hadn’t mentioned health insurance or a hospital yesterday. He also didn’t tell Candace that the “patient” was his father. Apparently I wasn’t the only one in this hallway with secrets.
“Fine.” She sighed. “You pay for the meds and sign off for their use and we should be covered.” She turned toward me, her lips tightening. “You’re new here, Kelly, so I’ll chalk this one up to not knowing better. If you ever pull a stunt like this again, you’ll be out. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.”
She nodded and walked away. I glanced up at him and frowned. I’d been so angry when I saw him talking to my boss, I hadn’t noticed the cut over his eye. Now that I was closer, I could see the discolored skin around the wound.
“What happened to you?”
He reached up but stopped short from touching his eyebrow. “Hit my head. I’m fine.”
“Or someone else hit it for you. More than once.” I lowered my voice. “You didn’t tell me your father was at another hospital.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t tell me you have a different name on this side of the building, either.” He slid a hand into his pocket.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. We’re even. Thanks for paying for the meds.”
“Thanks for helping me save my dad.” He turned to go and stopped. “I’m taking my lunch at noon. Will you let me buy you some food? It’s the least I can do.”
A red alert screeched in my head. Doctors and I didn’t mix. Two doctors had already stomped all over my heart leading to my pact to never trust another one. Besides, we were both already bending the truth.
There was no point in pretending we weren’t both liars.
“Sorry. My lunch hour isn’t until one o’clock.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “I understand. Maybe next time.”
“Maybe.”
He walked away, and I released a breath. Whatever he was hiding, I shouldn’t get involved. And more importantly, I shouldn’t want to.
Chapter Three
JASON
I stretched out my fingers. Typing prescriptions on my iPad didn’t used to be painful. “Used to be” was a dangerous road to travel. My dad didn’t used to be in a coma, my brother and I used to be close, and I used to heal people with these hands, not beat the crap out of them.
The fight club had to stop. At least for a while. Until the joints in my hands quit throbbing. Damn it. What was happening to me? I couldn’t keep abusing my body like this. Eventually permanent damage would set in.
But in the end, what would it matter? I got up and crossed to the mirror hanging on my closed office door. The cut over my eyebrow was beginning to discolor around the edges. I’d need to ice it again tonight. Werewolves healed a little faster than humans, but we weren’t Superman. I could get a nasty shiner just as easily as the next guy.
Resting my forearms on either side of the mirror, I stared into my own eyes. I didn’t recognize the man staring back at me. The man in the reflection wore his pain in the cut over his eye, the swelling in his hands, the bruises lurking under his shirt, lining his rib cage. As his doctor, I’d recommend a counseling session with a
therapist right away.
But therapy only worked if you were honest with your therapist. I couldn’t sit on a couch and admit werewolves existed, any more than I could explain my father was attacked because I was so desperate to save a woman’s life that I got into bed with the enemy.
Even after my dad warned me of the danger from Dr. Granger, I thought I could handle it. Maybe I did suffer from a god complex like Kilani claimed plagued every doctor.
Kilani. But the hospital thought her name was Kelly Jones. I would bet Jones was no more legitimate than Kelly. So what was she hiding?
Not my problem.
Being a part of the fight club was a mistake, but out of all the aspects of my life right now, boxing provided the only release from the worry and regret swirling inside my soul like a tempest. I couldn’t give it up completely. Not right now.
A knock came from the other side of the door, jolting me back into reality. I straightened up, paused a second, and opened the door.
“Dr. Ayers? Everything all right?” Therese’s stare pinned me down, concern lining her forehead.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
She shrugged, but her intensity didn’t waver. “It doesn’t usually take you two hours to give me the prescriptions to call in; you normally go out and eat during your lunch hour; and don’t even get me started on that shiner.”
“This?” I touched the wound over my eye a little harder than I intended and fought to keep from wincing. “I just hit my head on the corner of a cabinet. I’m fine.”
She crossed her arms, her hip tilting out slightly. “I know a black eye when I see one. The cabinet must’ve hit you more than once.”
I walked over and leaned against the edge of my desk, taking a second to pull my thoughts together. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now, but I’ll be all right.”
She softened her stance, allowing her arms to drop to her sides. “You’ve got broad shoulders and a big heart, but you don’t need to pile all the weight up there alone. We can all help carry the burden, whatever it is.”
