Bear's Claim (Bear Heat Book 3)

by Natalie Kristen

  The bedroom door and front door of the house weren't broken either. Everything was untouched and undisturbed. Thor was pretty sure that no prints would be found anywhere in the house.

  The bed was a mess, with the victim's body parts strewn messily on it. But there was a method to the madness.

  The bloody, grisly mess was just a distraction. It took everyone's attention away from the rest of the house. The house, even the bedroom, was utterly untouched. Nothing had been broken. Nothing had been taken. Except Walter's life.

  The killing was savage, but cold and precise.

  Walter hadn't been able to scream because his throat had been torn out. The attack was sudden, swift and methodical.

  Attack the victim in his bed and silence him by ripping out his voice box. Disembowel him, and make a big mess by dragging out his organs and chewing through them.

  But Thor had to wonder if the beast had really wanted to eat the man. Half-eaten organs had been spat out, in revulsion, it seemed.

  Thor stepped back.

  He had gotten what he needed.

  He didn't look at Detective Allen but he did turn to take one last look at Walter Nguyen before he left the room.

  Thor jogged down the front steps and took a walk around the house. No footprints, no blood, no trampled grass and flowers.

  The killer had walked in through the front door. The lock had been picked, either by the killer or an accomplice.

  Baxter joined him in a while and went through the premises a couple of times before he was satisfied.

  Thor didn't know if Bax was really examining every corner of the house, leaving no stone unturned, or if he was just taking his own sweet time to annoy Detective John Allen, who had made no effort to conceal his prejudice against shifters. Some people hid their insecurities by choosing to hate what they did not understand. Maybe the senior detective was not just distrustful but afraid of shifters.

  Thor gave a small shrug. Everyone had their own unfounded, irrational little fears. Thor just hoped that the detective wouldn't let his own personal opinion about shifters cloud his judgment and affect the discharge of his duties.

  Thor knew that there were some shifter cops on the force, and he had worked with quite a number of them. They were good officers, just like Walter Nguyen.

  Thor stared at Walter Nguyen's peaceful little house. The cop had come home every night to this humble, unassuming house after a long, hard day. Walter had gained a reputation as a tough, no-nonsense cop who had solved many cases in the violent crimes unit. He was the best choice to head C-18. With Walter at the helm, C-18 would have been a formidable force that the lawless, vicious gangsters would have to reckon with.

  Walter had been about to unleash a war on organized crime. The capture of Ray Shapez had sent a shock wave through the underground world. The other Mob bosses were seething and shaking in their bespoke designer shoes. Who would be next? The Mayor was serious this time when he promised to rid the city of organized crime. The setting up of C-18 was a big step forward in the right direction.

  Thor had heard that Walter Nguyen had already appointed his deputies, and was actively recruiting the best men and women from the city's law enforcement agencies into his team. He was a man on a mission, a difficult, deadly mission.

  And he had paid for his vision and dedication with his life.

  Thor swore under his breath as he walked to his car with Baxter.

  A brutal, cold-blooded killer was at large. He would hunt the monster down and avenge the slain cop.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Aubrey was sitting in a corner of the staff canteen staring into her cup of coffee when she spied Vanessa rushing towards her.

  “Aubrey! I...oh, Aubrey!” Vanessa cried breathlessly as she ran up to the table. “You were right! How…?”

  Aubrey frowned and gestured to the empty seat in front of her. “What are you talking about, Vanessa? What am I right about...” Aubrey trailed off, the color draining from her face. “No. No...”

  “Luke...” Vanessa's voice shook and she had to take a deep breath to compose herself. “Luke Keller has just...passed away.”

  Aubrey jumped up. “No...I don't believe this! What...”

  “There was no warning at all, no signs that he was having difficulty breathing,” Vanessa babbled, her eyes wide with shock. “After you left, I went to check on him. He was snoring steadily when I took his temperature. Everything was normal. I went back to the counter and about fifteen minutes later, Dr. Faizel rushed into the ward with two attendants. They went straight to Luke's room and I followed them. And...” Vanessa pressed a hand to her mouth. “Luke was dead in his bed! Dr. Faizel checked his vital signs. Luke wasn't breathing. There was no heartbeat. He was...dead. Dr. Faizel said that Luke could have been affected by a new strain of virus that was nearly impossible to detect but which could kill the host suddenly and swiftly. He said the body would have to be incinerated as soon as possible to contain the spread of the virus. Oh, Aubrey!” Vanessa clasped her hands tightly. “His family wouldn't even have a body to bury!”

  Aubrey scrambled out of the canteen, ignoring Vanessa's baffled cry and ran to the lift lobby. She had to get back to the ward before…

  She skidded to a sudden stop.

  Vanessa's words echoed in her mind.

  Luke's body wouldn't be lying in his bed back in the ward. They would have moved his virus-riddled body to the morgue right away.

  Gulping, she turned and slipped into the dim stairwell. She raced down the stairs and reached the deserted basement of the hospital. The morgue attendant would admit or discharge bodies from the morgue, but unless a body was due to be delivered or discharged, the attendant was usually in her office a few doors down from the morgue.

  Making her way down the narrow corridor, she was about to turn the corner when she heard the squeak of wheels.

  A gurney was being pushed along by two masked orderlies. Aubrey flattened herself against the wall and held her breath. A tall steel shelf hid her from view but she could see the covered body as the gurney trundled past. The face was covered but one foot stuck out from under the white sheet. The third toe stuck straight out as the longest toe on the dead man's foot.

  Aubrey pressed her fist to her mouth to stifle her cry. It was indeed Luke Keller under that white sheet. Luke's third toe was unusually long on his left foot, and he'd flaunted it in front of the younger nurses with some very naughty comments.

  Aubrey watched the orderlies push the gurney through the double doors of the morgue. After what felt like an eternity, the two orderlies walked out of the morgue and stepped back into the lift.

  Aubrey tiptoed to the morgue's metal doors and peeked in through the glass window. A white coat was bending over Luke's body. Aubrey's eyes widened. That wasn't the morgue attendant or the pathologist.

  It was Dr. Faizel.

  Dr. Faizel was into research, not autopsies. What the hell was he doing in the morgue? Was he here to take another sample?

  Aubrey held her breath and watched as Dr. Faizel bent over Luke's body and unbuttoned the shirt of his striped hospital pajamas. The doctor produced a filled syringe and plunged the needle into Luke's bare chest, just above his heart.

  Luke's body jerked and convulsed violently. Then she saw the dead man open his eyes.

  No, that wasn't right.

  Luke wasn't dead at all.

  He was sitting bolt upright and turning his head to stare at Dr. Faizel. The young man looked dazed and confused, but very much alive.

  The door to the morgue was slightly ajar and Aubrey could hear every word that was being said. She could even hear Luke's soft groan.

  “W-what happened?” Luke asked, his voice raw and scratchy. “Where am I?”

  “You've been in a deep sleep,” Dr. Faizel said with a chuckle. “You were dead to the world, literally.”

  Luke pressed his hands to his head and groaned. “My head...feels funny. I don't feel
so...”

  “Don't worry. You'll feel better soon. Much better.”

  Luke stared wildly around. “Where am I? This...this looks like the morgue. I'm not dead. Why am I in the morgue?” He turned slowly back to the doctor, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Who are you?”

  When the doctor didn't reply, Luke struggled to get to his feet. “I'm getting out of here,” Luke said angrily as he gave his head a hard shake as if to clear it. His eyes were clear and alert, but his body seemed weak and wobbly. The man's brain was working fine, but his muscles weren't obeying the commands from his brain. Luke gripped the edge of a steel table to steady himself.

  “You...you've done something to me,” Luke said, turning around awkwardly to face Dr. Faizel. “Don't come near me. Don't touch me. Stay away from me! I...I don't trust you. You—you're not a doctor...”

  “Oh, I am a doctor,” Dr. Faizel answered, his black eyes glittering dangerously. “And you're not leaving. At least not until you've been Changed.”

  “Changed? What are you talking about? You're crazy!” Luke tried to fumble his way towards the door but his steps were shaky and painfully slow.

  As Dr. Faizel advanced towards Luke, Aubrey glanced down the corridor towards the morgue attendant's office. The lights in the office were off, and the office looked empty. Maybe the attendant was out for a meeting or was assisting in an autopsy. No body had been scheduled for delivery today. There was no one here in the basement.

  No one to help Luke.

  It was up to her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Aubrey balled her fists. She had seen and heard enough.

  Luke was right. Dr. Faizel was crazy. There was a demented, deranged look on his face and his eyes were glinting ominously. Why would he have brought a perfectly healthy patient down to the morgue, one who was obviously well and alive? The doctor had lied. There was no virus in Luke. Luke had only appeared dead because of that serum Dr. Faizel had injected into him. She had been right all along. And now he had given Luke another jab to reverse the effects of the first injection.

  Luke Keller wasn't dead. He wasn't even sick. He just had a broken leg, which was healing very well. He would be going home tomorrow. She would make damn sure of it.

  Aubrey flung the door wide open and charged into the morgue. “Stop! Leave him alone, Dr. Faizel! You're not sticking another dirty needle into him.”

  Luke swiveled towards her, his blue eyes rounding. He flashed her a grin. “Nurse Aubrey!”

  Aubrey held out her hand to him. “Luke, come here. I'm taking you back to the ward.”

  Luke tried to shuffle towards her, but he tripped and began to tumble. Aubrey ran forward and caught him before he hit the floor. Luke was a tall, broad guy and Aubrey staggered under his weight as she tried to help him quickly to his feet.

  “Come on, Luke. Let's go,” she panted.

  Aubrey supported Luke around the waist and steered him towards the door. She glared at Dr. Faizel over her shoulder. “I don't know what you're up to, doctor. But I'm calling security right now.”

  He merely smiled at her.

  That cold, self-assured smile set off alarm bells in her head.

  Aubrey gulped and tried to hurry Luke towards the door, but the young man was leaning heavily against her as he took awkward, stumbling steps. He seemed to be in pain, and his entire body was shaking.

  “Come on, Luke, you can do it,” Aubrey hissed under her breath. “Keep moving. I can't carry you. You're too big and heavy for me. We have to...escape...”

  Aubrey winced at her own words. Escape?

  The word made her feel like a prisoner, a captive.

  A bead of cold sweat rolled down between her breasts. She had a horrible feeling that she had just walked into something twisted and dangerous.

  Every instinct was screaming for her to run.

  But she couldn't leave Luke here. No way.

  He was her patient.

  He was breathing heavily, but there was no doubt he was breathing, living, vital and alive. He should never have been wheeled down here to the morgue.

  Aubrey continued to urge Luke on. “Try to move faster, Luke. Yes, that's good. Keep moving...” Luke grimaced and doubled over. Aubrey looked around desperately. “Help!” She raised her head and hollered. “I need help here! In the morgue! Somebody, please. Help me! I have a patient...”

  Dr. Faizel stood in front of the morgue doors to block her. He clucked his tongue. “It's no use. Nobody will hear you. There's no one here. Everyone's away at a meeting.”

  Aubrey recoiled at his triumphant laugh.

  “You...planned this. The meeting, everything...”

  Dr. Faizel smiled.

  Balling her clammy fists, Aubrey said through gritted teeth, “Why are you doing this? What do you want with him? Just what did you do to him?” she demanded. “You injected him with something. I saw you!”

  “You didn't see anything.”

  Dr. Faizel reached into his breast pocket and clicked what looked like a pen.

  “And that's not a pen,” Aubrey mumbled numbly to no one in particular.

  The side wall slid open and Aubrey stumbled back with a gasp.

  The wall hid a secret tunnel, a long, deep, dark passageway which seemed to go on forever.

  Two burly black-clad men emerged from the tunnel silently, and moved with military speed and precision towards them. One of the men wrestled her away from Luke and shoved her towards the hidden chamber.

  “Let me go! Help! Help! Hey, leave him alone! Who the hell are you?” she shrieked as the other man dragged a struggling Luke into the chamber. “Let go of me! I'm warning you...”

  Aubrey thrashed and kicked desperately, fighting to free herself so she could go to Luke. She had to save him. He looked like he was going to lose consciousness.

  She flailed and yelled and cursed but it was no use.

  A large gloved hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Aubrey watched in horror as the wall slid silently shut behind her. Dr. Faizel walked confidently in front of them, muttering into a mouthpiece at his collar.

  They were being dragged down a dark, long passageway. Aubrey's eyes darted around. How could she not know that there was a tunnel behind the morgue?

  Dr. Faizel stopped abruptly and unlocked a door in the wall. She was shoved into a starkly-lit, mind-bogglingly large chamber with sophisticated machines she had never seen before.

  The place looked like a huge underground bomb shelter. The hospital was an old building, and it had been rebuilt and renovated many times. Many of the older buildings in the city had spacious underground bomb shelters. Some had been converted for commercial uses and made into storage spaces.

  But this…

  What the hell was this?

  Aubrey stopped struggling and stared around. There were gurgling, humming machines with wires and tubes connected to sharp pointy needles and scalpels. Two large computer screens covered the far wall. She saw steel tables lining the walls, and there were metal clamps at the side of the tables.

  Aubrey backed away. She knew what those clamps were for.

  “Clamp them down,” Dr. Faizel ordered.

  Aubrey knew that struggling and screaming was futile. She had to try something else. Suppressing a whimper, she stretched out a trembling hand and touched the arm of her captor. Never underestimate the power of the human touch. A touch could heal and comfort. A kind word was more powerful than a lethal weapon. She knew that. She was a very good, experienced nurse. She could always read her patients' moods and anticipate their needs.

  Perhaps she could get this tough-looking soldier to help her somehow.

  Dr. Faizel was watching her with a knowing, amused look. “Don't bother trying to communicate with these mercenaries, Nurse Williams. They are hired muscle. They won't waver, and they won't hesitate to snap your neck at my order.”

 
; Aubrey swallowed her fear and forced out a laugh. “Mercenaries? What are mercenaries doing in a hospital? You take me for a fool, Dr. Faizel. I don't think the hospital Director has the budget to hire mercenaries.”

  “They don't work for the hospital,” Dr. Faizel answered as Aubrey was pushed onto a steel table. “They work for me.”

  Aubrey raised her head and spat, “Bullshit!”

  Dr. Faizel had his back to her, typing something into the computer. “They will obey me, even though I don't pay them,” he said absently.

  “So who pays them?” Aubrey asked. She wanted to keep him talking, get as much information out of him as possible.

  She had to figure out what she was up against.

  “Alberto Birns,” the doctor muttered, still typing.

  “Who the fuck...” she began then jerked as Luke was slammed onto the steel table beside her.

  “You're hurting him!” she screeched at the callous soldier. “You might be a mercenary, but you don't have to be an asshole!” The soldier ignored her and proceeded to fasten the clamps around Luke's wrists, ankles and neck.

  She heard Luke make a small sound beside her. His eyelids were twitching violently and his face was contorted in pain. Bright red blotches had appeared on his skin and she saw a trickle of blood ooze from the corner of his mouth.

  “Luke! Luke, can you hear me?” Aubrey strained against the clamps and tried to free her legs. She screamed and scratched at the soldier as he held her down and snapped the clamps around her wrists and neck. “Let me go! Let him go! He's bleeding! Can't you see? You're killing him!”

  “Shh.” Dr. Faizel raised a finger. “I can't concentrate with all this noise you're making, Nurse Williams. Never interrupt a doctor in the middle of a procedure.”

  “What procedure?” she snarled. “What the hell are you doing? Hey, I asked you a question!”

  “And I'll answer your question. If you'll just calm down and listen,” Dr. Faizel said reproachfully.