Wild Card (52 page)

My head banged on the steering wheel and I sat bolt upright, panic rippling down my skin.

I was parked.

It was all right. I was safe. Not on the roads. Not about to swerve across the interstate and crush someone under the monster tires.

I must have dozed for a second. Or two.

What time was it?

What the freaking hell time was it?

I never carried a watch unless I needed to time something to the second. My dad had trained me to keep time in my head. I hadn’t lost track since…

Since I’d been in Obs – strapped to a gurney, a medical experiment to study.

Sweat stood out on my forehead.

I was sitting in the Hill Bitch, parked across from Dr. Noble’s office. I had no memory of how I’d got there.

What had I been thinking of all that time?

Colonel Laine, up close in my face, tracking my symptoms for the Obs unit. “Blackouts?”

“No, sir.”

Liar. But he can’t tell. He’s not my alpha.

I got out of the car.

There was a tremor in my hands.

What the hell was happening to me?

People have attention lapses all the time.

Not like this.

A drugstore sign had the time on it, and I was late. I remembered something now. I’d called and asked for a later appointment with Noble and it was only available at his office. Now I was late anyway.

Other than last Friday night, sandwiched so happily between Jen and Alex, I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since the Assembly.

“Four days awake and you start hallucinating,” says Ben-Haim. “As an interrogator, this can be your friend. As a prisoner, not so much.”

It might be that—too little sleep. It might be the Athanate crusis returning, pulled back by my Were infusion. Or the Were and Athanate fighting. I needed help, and I didn’t know who to trust. Bian didn’t trust Alice. Alice said not to trust anyone but Diana. Diana wasn’t here. Skylur wasn’t here. Noble had been helpful, but he was pack first, whatever he said about patient confidentiality. If he thought I was flaky, he’d tell Felix, and that would escalate the issues that Felix was trying to keep us both from having to confront.

Bian. Something I’d forgotten to do with Bian.

I slapped my head and lifted the TacNet from around my neck.

“Bian, you there?”

“I am, Round-eye. I thought you were going pull a treble shift.”

I snorted weakly. “No, just late handing over is all. I’m going in to see Doc Noble and then I’ll be at Alex’s if you need me.”

“Yeah, well, you know my opinion of the doctor. Come talk to Alice and me. It’ll be a lot better for you.”

“Maybe so, but Doc knows a bit more about the Were.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing. I really don’t think I’d want that quack messing with my head.” She huffed. “Anyway, I got the hunt coordination till tomorrow. Get some rest, Amber. You’re still healing from last week.”

“I will. Thanks, bye.”

I cut the comms link and tossed the TacNet in the back of the truck.

I
would
prefer to be talking to her and Alice, but I was here now. I crossed the road and went into the office.

Doc Noble’s receptionist was too bright and perky for someone who was working on Sunday. She was about forty—a pale-skinned brunette, sensibly and formally dressed. I figured the makeup would have taken an hour by itself.

“Oh, I’m always here when Doctor Noble is working,” she said, when I commented. “He makes such a commitment to so many, I can only try and do my part to help.”

I strangled the little demon in my throat. The way she said his name gave away how she felt. I wondered if the doctor reciprocated. But then, who was I to comment on other people’s love lives?

“You
are
a little late, Ms. Farrell.” She wriggled on her seat. “I’ve had to shuffle one of his telephone consultations. It shouldn’t be too much longer. Can I make you some coffee?”

Given Doc’s reaction last time, I turned it down.

I’d fall asleep if I sat, so instead, I looked at his certificates and testimonial photographs.

They took up the whole wall, except for a couple of spaces where ones had been removed.

Why?

I caught myself with a snort.
Paranoid, much?

The wall was impressive. He did a lot more than his private work here.

I’d known he worked at the Psychiatric Center in Centennial; we’d met for lunch not far from there. Centennial was famous for treating addictions and ‘deprogramming’—curing people with obsessive/compulsive psychoses or victims of cult programming.

By the look of it, he also worked at the discreetly named Aurora Regional Center, which was essentially a lifer prison for the criminally insane. Max they called it on the street.

And the Denver Free Psychiatric Outreach Association.

And—

“Amber, come in, please.”

I followed him into his office. There wasn’t a black couch. In fact, we sat pretty much as we had at Alex’s house, with me rocked back on a recliner. Doc’s chair was cleverly small so he didn’t look so lost in it.

“I had hoped to find you more relaxed today,” he said.

I barked out a laugh.

“Doc, I’ve barely slept. I’ve been out fighting. Been all but buried by Were and Athanate politics. Found a hideout house with a torture dungeon. Had to fend off the FBI. And I haven’t even had coffee today.”

“Well, let’s get away from what’s happening outside and concentrate on what’s happening inside. I’ll start by giving you the mild sedatives I told you about—”

“Sorry, Doc. I just can’t.” I pulled the recliner back up. “I can’t even lie back. I’ll go to sleep and drool on your pretty chair.”

He was pissed, and I couldn’t blame him.

“Look, I promise I will next time,” I said. “I can’t slow down. I know I’m messing you around, but I can’t spend time talking about my childhood while there’s a rogue out there. I just feel that things are too critical.”

“You’re right, the next few days
are
critical—they’re critical to you. There’s no point in running around Denver like a zombie. You’d be a danger to yourself and others. We have to get you to a state where you can operate to your full potential.”

I rubbed my eyes, which didn’t seem to help much. Time to change tack. “What causes blackouts, Doc?”

His eyes narrowed. “For humans, momentary interruption of blood supply to the brain, electrical failure, or psychogenic causes like extreme stress.”

“And for Athanate, you can add crusis, which is, I guess, paranormal psychogenic stress. What about Were? The same? Is it normal to have blackouts?”

“No. For the Were, the blackout represents time spent in a mental state as a wolf that is incomprehensible to the human side. Time spent fully wolf.”

“But it could also just be a human reaction to lack of sleep?”

He tilted his head. “Possibly.”

I couldn’t be going wolf, not while I was driving.

“I’m just stupid tired,” I said. “Falling asleep for seconds at a time.”

“Well, relax for a few minutes before you rush off again.” He picked up his notepad. “Let’s see what we can salvage from this session.”

Crap. But he’d answered a question for me. I pushed the recliner half way. As long as I kept talking, I guessed I had a chance of staying awake.

“Hmm. Family is important to mental health.” He chewed his lip. “You say you’re not getting along well with your mother and sister. Let’s start by expanding on that a little.”

I had Mom and Kath visiting at Alex’s later. I’d find out how broken it was then. Would Kath come along? Would she want an explanation before she handed over the necklace? What would she do when I couldn’t tell her? And how bad would that look to Mom?

I tried to put that out of mind and answer the question.

“My sister’s the problem.” I couldn’t help but give away my feelings in my voice. “There’s a bunch of reasons, some of which might be the stuff you came up with last time. Anyway, she doesn’t believe anything about me. I can’t tell her anything about what I’ve really done or what I am. So, she makes up things; says I’ve been living as a whore, I’m a drug addict, I’ve been brainwashed by a cult or whatever comes into her mind. The trouble is, as far as my Mom’s concerned, Kath’s there for her at the moment, and I’m not.”

“I see.” His pen scratched quietly. “What about the pack as a family? Does it feel like that?”

“Felix as Dad? No.” I laughed.

“What about you as the father-figure? You have the alpha tendencies. You took over the role of provider after your father’s death. You were in command of a team in the army. You are a House in the Athanate structure. Do you feel comfortable as the team leader rather than the team player?”

I wriggled. Was he saying I couldn’t be in the pack? I was too alpha? “I’m adaptable,” I hedged.

“How did this adaptability manifest in the police? I understand there was an incident at the end of your time there where you acted alone.”

“A young girl, Emily Schumacher, was abducted by three rogue vampires. I was on the scene, I could smell them. I understood what the stakes were. The SWAT team were too slow and they didn’t know what they were dealing with. I had to act. There wasn’t an option to adapt to working with others.”

“You had to take responsibility for a kidnapped child? Is this a recurring theme?”

“No. I knew her. And it was the only thing I could do. Can we talk about something else?”

“The Athanate build a family around themselves of necessity, but it is structured, with roles and tasks. The pack much less so. Does the structure feel important to you?”

I frowned and closed my eyes. This felt less irritating.

“No, not really. It’s family, even if there are bits missing. I mean, as a paranormal, I’m not going to have children. I’m not broody or anything, but I know there’ll be a time when I regret it.”

“A daughter would be important for you?”

I smiled to myself, imagining Emily as a daughter. “Yes.”

“Not a father or mother figure?”

It was so comfortable sitting back with my eyes closed, but I’d have to go soon. I couldn’t be late.

What had he just asked? Father and mother figures?

“Huh. Skylur and Diana, I guess. It’s not quite like that.”

Where the hell was Diana? Why hadn’t she been in contact? I sat back up, the bubble of comfort broken, and the wolf starting to stir inside me.

Doc looked up. His pen stopped scratching. He looked in a much better mood than when we started.

“That was good! A moment there where you actually relaxed. Maybe in the next session, we can work it up to a minute or two.”

I guessed he was just joking, but my wolf felt my space had been invaded. I growled.

“We’re out of time,” he said. “Next session will be better. We can discuss control issues.”

Interesting. Noble might be small, but his importance to the pack gave him enough status he was able to push back at me.

I got up and stretched, refusing to let the wolf out. Everything else filtered back in. I had duties.

“Doc, I need to ask some questions.”

He shrugged and glanced at his watch. “Okay. You have five minutes.”

“A detective came to see you three years ago. Although he didn’t realize it, he was working on the rogue case.”

“Yes. Detective…Clayton. I remember.”

“He’s dead now. I’m trying to piece together his investigation. What did he want?”

Noble raised his brows at the news and then shrugged again. “He was asking about some patients who came into the Free Outreach sessions. Trying to determine their last known movements. Other members of the pack got called on as well. Silas and Kyle, I know. Felix, I think. Clayton was very interested in anyone who worked down in those communities. He was desperate to fit facts to theories.”

“But why did he concentrate on you? Surely there are dozens of doctors down there?”

“Ha! There are four or five of us on a really good day. I got volunteered, I suppose. The others, they don’t like my approach.”

“Why?”

“I don’t believe in institutionalizing people, or putting them on prescriptive therapy, when there is no assurance of continuation, either from funding or commitment. Episodic treatment is more damaging than leaving well enough alone.”

“Wow.” I raised my brows. “A doctor who doesn’t prescribe.”

“Under those circumstances, no. Of course, I recommend returning to the center frequently and talking to one of the doctors there. Simply talking in a group or one to one. Socialization is far more potent in the long term than dulling the senses or making people dependent.”

We’d moved swiftly to an area I couldn’t argue one way or the other, and we were both silent while we walked through the office. The receptionist smiled and I was impressed all over again by that wall of photos and certificates.

He opened the door and ushered me through. I was surprised that he was seeing me out. Surely he didn’t do that for every patient?

“You think Clayton was on to something?” Noble asked once we were in the lobby.

“I think he got close enough that it was worth murdering him as soon as he started talking to me.”

“Oh, my God.” He shook his head sadly and thrust his hands into his pockets. The lobby was cold and he was definitely not dressed for stepping outside.

“They say snow,” he said, looking out the front. “Your car’s not far?”

“Just around the corner,” I said. I wanted no-one to know what I was driving. “I’m borrowing something bigger to fit in with the pack.”

He chuckled. “Size isn’t everything.”

“No, of course not. But everyone in the pack drives something oversized. I guess it might be difficult to contain all that Were enthusiasm you talk about in a small car.”

Sitting in the Hill Bitch at a drive-through ten minutes later, cuddling a coffee, I called Felix before I lost my courage.

“…so, we have DNA from the basement, and our own CSI agent, with equipment,” I said, winding up a report of last night. “This may be chance to prove if it’s a member of the pack.”