He made his way to the reception area. “Excuse me….”
A woman with a phone pressed to her ear waved a clipboard at him. “Please fill this out. We’re very busy at the moment. How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m not. I’m looking for a friend of mine. The paramedics brought him in with damage to his stomach. Might have come in as a John Doe?”
She barely looked at him. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait. I’ll make a note of it, but there are a lot of hurt people who need to be looked at first. Take a seat. As soon as I get the chance to breathe, I’ll have a look.”
Daniel nodded and managed to find a seat in the busy waiting area. Restless energy filled every part of him. He wanted to find the body, confirm the kill. Unfortunately, he couldn’t just walk around the hospital. No matter how busy, someone would notice him. So, he waited and listened.
***
Mari shivered. She hated it down here. Too cold, too bright, and the chemical smell in the morgue made her gag. Much-needed heat flooded through her as she sipped from her coffee cup.
I’m going to need a hell of a lot more than this today
. Thankfully, one more shift and she’d be off and get some sleep—twenty-four hours straight would do it.
Malcolm pushed the double doors open and Mari listened with half an ear as he muttered about having to take his mother to the salon the following day. He wasn’t what one could call a spring chicken, and his mother was sweet and always brought chocolates whenever she visited.
Three harsh lights hung in the wall above the gurney, highlighting the naked body of the man she’d lost today. She put her cup of coffee on the desk by the front door and looked back down at the chart as she walked up next to the gurney. The ruined body belonging to John Doe had been cleaned of the blood. “What’s the problem, Malcolm?”
The older doctor plucked the chart out of her hand and walked to the opposite end of the table. “It says here that there was severe damage to the lower stomach.”
“Yes?”
Malcolm pointed at the wound. “Does this look severe to you?”
The ragged cuts were four deep scratches. Most of this she’d missed when she’d been trying to stop the bleeding. “What do you think created these, a bear?”
The elderly doctor frowned. “I thought he had something to do with the pileup?”
“It doesn’t look like a wound sustained in a crash. More like an animal. By the time I got there, he was too far gone. If you need to discuss something, I suggest finding the lead on the case.”
“She isn’t here, or I would have.” Malcolm shrugged. “I’ll put the man on ice and talk to her in the morning. Sorry for disturbing you.”
After handing him the chart, she laughed. Thankfully, she could go back to the on-call room and get some more sleep. “It isn’t a problem. Uninterrupted sleep is overrated anyway.”
She heard a brief chuckle before it was cut off and a weird gurgling noise replaced his laugh. A roar bounced off the walls. Mari turned. Panic flooded her system. It sounded like a wild animal, but that couldn’t be possible. Malcolm’s eyes were wide, already glazed over, John Doe’s hand through his chest.
He tugged it free and the old man crumpled to the ground, discarded. The horror didn’t end. John Doe brought bloody fingers to his lips and sucked at them like a lollipop.
A smile crept across the monster’s face. Finally remembering to breathe, Mari screamed.
Daniel snapped his eyes open.
The sight in front of him hadn’t changed. The barely controlled chaos in the waiting room, the tears and soft cries. No one but him seemed to have heard the scream. He scrambled to his feet and took off down the corridor. The screams and sounds of things being broken drifted up from somewhere below, and the noise guided his feet. Even on two legs, he moved faster than a normal man. He darted down corridors. Moonlight shone through the windows, barely noticeable. The smell of chemicals got stronger, harsher. Daniel skidded as he reached a door. A small sign next to it showed stairs. He flung it open, taking the stairs two at a time, jumping over the last five. The hospital might have been huge, but even he knew those screams could only have come from one place.
He turned a corner and jumped down the next stairs he found. Speed made everything look like a misshapen blur, but he trusted his instincts. His wolf knew where he needed to be. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.
***
“What are you?” Mari managed to squeeze the words out, her throat tight from terror. She edged away from the thing still sitting on the gurney. Her gaze drifted down to Malcolm, his face locked in a state of shock. The naked man swung his legs over and hopped to his feet. The wound on his stomach closed slowly, until it vanished. Gone as if he’d never been wounded. Not
died
.
“I’m a werewolf.” A low rumble traveled along her skin. Mari rubbed at her arms.
Every sane part of her screamed to run, but she couldn’t. Her legs refused to obey her. She could only watch as the man collected some scrubs and slipped them on. He plucked up Malcolm’s spare white jacket and pulled that on as well.
“Why can’t I move?”
With a mouth with too many teeth in it, he smiled at her. “It’s called fear, love, and we both know that if you run, I’ll end up chasing you. I’ll like that. You probably won’t, though.” He stepped closer, and Mari gagged at the scent of blood on his breath. Malcolm’s blood.
Tracing his fingers down the side of her face, he dropped his head and whispered against her cheek. “You’re a pretty one.”
A shudder went through her, but, trapped between the madman and her panic, she had nowhere to go. A cry of fear nearly overwhelmed her. Tears pooled in her eyes, rolling down her face.
“I bet your blood is sweet, fresh, and unspoilt.” His teeth grazed the side of her neck.
“Please, don’t.”
“Please don’t, what?” He hissed the words out and another shiver went through her.
“Please don’t hurt me.” She moved her hands out behind her.
God, there has to be a weapon somewhere
. She refused to stand there and let this thing kill her. Her questing hand touched something solid and hot.
Interested in torturing her and prolonging the moment, the monster didn’t see her hands or what she had in them. Mari picked up the cup of still-hot coffee and smashed it on him. The scalding liquid splashed her, but her attacker took a face full. He reared back, roaring in rage, and she fled.
It didn’t seem possible that a nightmare unfolded behind her. In the well-lit corridor with its clean floors, it could have been any other night. Instead, her heart pounded against her ribs.
The stairs. I just need to get to the stairs
. The air in her lungs burnt.
A security guard, someone, anyone who can help me
. The double doors slammed open behind her and another terrible roar spurred her to run faster.
I will not die
. Survival. It was all she had left.
A heavy body struck her from behind, and she hit the shiny floor. The blow claimed the last of her oxygen. Trapped. Pain erupted like fire through her shoulder and she screamed.
“I told you, I like it when they run.” The words growled into her ear filled her with dread. “There isn’t time for my usual flair, but I’ll be drinking down your screams soon enough. It will have to do.”
“Let her go.” Command rode the voice, and a man she didn’t recognize strode down the hall toward her. Her attacker rose and dragged her up with him. But the stranger kept coming, tall as the thing that held her in a viselike grip, his face half hidden by shadows.
“Now where’s the fun in that? You’re just planning to kill me anyway.” John Doe snaked an arm around her neck. “I might as well snap her neck and be done with it. Take one more soul with me before I go.”
The urge to vomit threatened to overwhelm her. The world blurred, the pressure against her throat threatening her already bruised ability to breathe.
“Look at me,” the stranger ordered, and Mari blinked, focusing on him. “I’m going to get you out of here, trust me.” He turned his attention back to John Doe. “You’re right, Ryback. You’re dying in this hallway. You’re not leaving here alive.”
The arm around her neck tightened. How did he plan on saving her? She reached into her pockets, fighting against the blackness swimming in front of her eyes. Her fingers brushed the top of the pen, the one she’d used to sign the supposedly dead John Doe’s death certificate. The strange man took a step forward and Mari became caught in his emerald-colored stare. She barely listened to their conversation, her vision dimming. Very carefully, she uncapped the pen and gripped it tighter. She withdrew it from her pocket.
“Who sent you?” Her captor’s growl reminded her of a rabid dog. A stark reminder that one wrong move and she’d be dead. With the unbelievable strength in his forearm pressing against her throat, it wouldn’t take much.
“Adam Reece, he’s the alpha of the Black Paw Pack.”
Ryback scoffed. “I haven’t killed anyone near your pack. This has nothing to do with you.”
The man growled. “You’ve killed innocent women. This has everything to do with me, with us. As soon as the right people find your body it’ll put you firmly in the frame where you’re supposed to be. You left your DNA all over those women. Not smart.”
The arm around her neck had loosened while they spoke, but it went taut again. Any more pressure and her head would pop off. He wouldn’t even have to snap it.
Her would-be rescuer pressed on, narrowing the gap between them. “Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you’re happy condemning your kind to a mass culling? They haven’t done anything to deserve it.” If she hadn’t been looking at him, she would have missed the quick look between her hand and her eyes.
She jabbed upward with the pen, something popped like a balloon, and the man who held her roared in barely contained rage. Then all Mari felt was pain.
Daniel rushed to the human doctor’s side, letting Ryback escape. The scent of her blood ran like copper through the medicinal products used to clean the hall. The slow beat of her heart barely reached his sensitive ears.
Dammit
. If he left her he might as well sign her death certificate himself. The rogue wouldn’t be getting far. He’d been hit with a car, had his guts on the wrong side of his body, and now a well-placed pen pierced his eye. His body needed time to heal that much damage. Internal wounds took longer to heal, if at all.
Crouching next to her, he searched for her pulse at her throat. “Can you hear me?”
The doctor’s eyes fluttered open, a pale grey that looked unfocused. Daniel tried his best to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. A growing pool of blood spread out beneath her. There hadn’t been a weapon, but the rogue used something to gut her, a claw?
“It hurts.” She whimpered.
“Did he have a knife?” A pointless question, but he had to be sure.
“He punched a hole through Malcolm’s chest with his bare hands.” It obviously took her a lot of effort to push out the words. “He doesn’t need a weapon.” Her eyes fluttered shut again.
“Wake up.” The words came out harsher than he wanted, but falling asleep right now was the worst thing she could do. She opened her eyes. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Mari.”
“Okay, Mari. This is going to hurt, but I need to pick you up and carry you upstairs.” The doctor nodded and bit her bottom lip as he lifted her. “It’ll be okay. I just need you to hold on.”
“I’m not making any promises.”
Daniel cradled her against his chest, not worried about the blood that seeped into his clothes. No, Ryback wouldn’t have her as well.
***
Mari opened her eyes and groaned. Dammit, it all hadn’t been a dream brought on by a lack of sleep and stupidly long hours. She sat gingerly. A soft red light crept in through the window. It didn’t feel odd waking up at the hospital, but then she didn’t usually wake up with an IV drip in her arm and a thick bandage on her back.
“You’re awake then.”
A voice she barely recognized made her jump. She turned, careful of the bandages on her back, and glanced at the man sitting in the chair. It would have been impossible to miss the long, lean legs and a body that made hers sit up and take notice. She might have been in a hospital bed, but she wasn’t missing her pulse.
“What are you doing in here? The hospital only lets family stay in the room.” She knew how she sounded, but she still wasn’t sure what happened the night before, and she’d always been a lousy patient. “Oh, my God, Malcolm.” She clapped her hand to her mouth.
Sympathy flashed in his expression, but it vanished quickly. “We need to talk, and I don’t have time to pussyfoot around it. It’s probably a good thing that you’re already lying down.” The last he added like an afterthought.
“What are you talking about?”
Her rescuer rose. He was definitely taller than the man who’d attacked her. Her head would reach the bottom of his chin if they stood in front of each other. The man he’d called Ryback reminded her of a homeless man, even half-naked, with yellow teeth. In hiking boots, a worn jacket, and battered jeans, her rescuer looked the opposite—less homicidal manic and more ruggedly handsome outdoorsman.
What does he look like without the clothes?
The sudden question made her blush.
What hell is wrong with me?
She didn’t have these kinds of reactions to random men.
“The thing that attacked you last night was a werewolf.”
Mari snorted. “Yeah, he said that. It isn’t possible.”
“It is. I was sent to hunt him down.” He leaned against the windowsill, his arms crossed over his broad chest. The light from outside highlighted a strong jaw and the blonde in his shoulder length hair.
Disbelief flooded her. “That means that you’re….”
“A werewolf, too?” He finished her sentence. “Yeah, I am.” The look in his eyes made her squirm. Heat spread through her body like wildfire, an intense reaction to a man she didn’t know.