Wolf Fever (19 page)

Jake looked surprised.

“I investigated everyone—those in your pack and those who were joining—just as a courtesy to Darien, in the event anything was important.”

“Did you tell Darien?”

“No need to. The woman chose Matthew's competition. He came here to lick his wounds. Figure that's why he hadn't hit on Carol yet. Probably still feels something for the woman who didn't choose him.”

“But you made it sound like he had something to hide.”

Ryan sniffed the air. “His own failure.” He suddenly stopped and pointed at the path the three reds had taken this time. “There. This way.”

“Darien said to take them any way we had to. If they fight us, so be it.”

Ryan nodded. If he'd gotten hold of the man who'd stolen Carol away before, the man would have been dead—no argument.

He and Jake quickly stripped off their clothes and shape-shifted. The showdown would be between two grays and three reds, if Ryan had any say about it. Then he bolted through the woods in hot pursuit as Jake skirted around the trees a few yards away.

At least this way, the reds they were hunting would be far away from Carol, and he figured she'd be safe, no matter who was watching over her.

For over an hour, they pursued the reds, who were surprisingly speedy. Expecting their next move, the three separated and Jake chased one, while Ryan targeted another. Even if they took only two of them to task, it would show the grays' strength and possibly stop the reds from trying anything further.

That's when Ryan discovered a campsite, tents, a smoldering fire, and tuna cans and cracker wrappers littering the ground. What caught his eye next was that the man he'd been chasing was no longer running as a wolf. Half dressed in a pair of jeans, hairy chest naked, boots unlaced, his face covered in a scruffy red beard and amber eyes narrowed, he pointed a gun at Ryan while he hovered near a pickup, his getaway vehicle.

Shit.
Split-second decision time: lunge at the armed man, or make a hasty turn, try to avoid getting shot in
the back of the head, and run in the direction of Silver Town. Tucking tail was not Ryan's way.

Before he could leap, he heard the sound of gunfire. The bullet ricocheted off a tree and grazed Ryan's left foreleg before he reached the bastard. Panicked, the guy fired again twice without aiming. And Ryan darted behind a Douglas fir.

The bullets struck the tree next to him with a whap… whap! When Ryan came around the tree to take the man down, the red dove into the pickup, slammed the door, charged up the engine, and tore off with the truck leaving a trail of dust in its wake.

Hell. Ryan's foreleg burned even though the bullet wound was superficial, as far as he could tell. He licked the injury, knowing that his wolf saliva could reduce some kinds of bacterial infection and that studies had shown that it could actually aid cell regeneration because of saliva's epidermal growth factors.

He howled for Jake, letting him know he had lost his prey and was headed in, but then Ryan caught the whiff of the other man who'd split off from the three and took off after him. Taking care of the flesh wound could wait.

Jake howled to Ryan in response. A chorus of other wolves let him know where they were and that they'd gotten the message. If the reds weren't already scared shitless, the sound of all the grays in the woods probably would do the trick.

Unable to keep up the faster pace he'd used getting there, Ryan finally slowed to a trot for a good long while, his leg bleeding some and the wound still burning, while searching for clues of the third man.

Jake soon joined him, sniffed his foreleg, and trotted beside him. Ryan couldn't help but envy Darien and his two brothers. Ryan's sister meant everything in the world to him, but having someone who acted like a brother to watch his back when they were on the warpath was a unique experience. And welcome.

From the looks of it, Jake must have lost his prey also, though.

While Ryan continued to look for clues of the other man, Jake seemed more concerned about Ryan's health, glancing back in the direction of the hospital, circling as though he wanted to return. Maybe because Ryan kept limping, although he was trying hard not to. Unable to locate the red, Ryan finally gave up and motioned with his head toward town. Looking relieved, Jake dipped his head once in agreement. The two took off for their stash of clothes.

When they reached them and then shape-shifted, Ryan fumbled with his shirt. Jake looked like he was about to offer to help him, but Ryan finally managed. “What happened to your guy?”

“You were wounded.”

“Hell, Jake, I would have been fine. You lost him, didn't you?”

“Carol wouldn't have forgiven me if I'd left you to your injuries and you died. We don't know if the bullets they've been firing are silver or not. And I didn't know if your wound was superficial or something more serious.”

Ryan shook his head. “I didn't say I was wounded when I let everyone know what I was going to do.”

“Gunshots had been fired in the vicinity from which you howled. You said you had lost your prey and were
headed in. Not that you were helping me search for the one I was after or the other, but returning to where we'd left our clothes. Which meant you were wounded. Except I didn't think you'd be trying to track down the third guy anyway.”

Struggling with his belt, Ryan smiled a little. “You'd make a good detective.”

“Just an observation of your nature,” Jake said, matter-of-factly, although the way his mouth lifted slightly at the corners, he looked like he appreciated the comment. “Still, you shouldn't have gone after the other guy.” He yanked on his shirt. “Being a wounded hero always impresses a lady. Why didn't I think of that first?”

“You'd take a bullet just to make points with Carol? I doubt she'd be overjoyed with the prospect.” Ryan snorted. “Besides, a hero solves the crime and saves the damsel in distress. I just managed to get myself shot. Where are the heroics in that?”

“It's the thought that counts.”

Not feeling in the least bit heroic, Ryan shook his head. “Besides, I don't need looking after. It's just a graze, and the bullets, thank God, were not silver.”

“Which means?”

“They're not trying to kill us.” At least insofar as they didn't use silver bullets. Shooting a tree hadn't been the red's plan, Ryan didn't think. “But if they keep trying to take Carol…” Ryan lifted his good shoulder with a slight shrug. “I won't be responsible for my actions.”

“You and me both,” Jake growled. “Darien or Tom either, believe me.”

After some of the more alpha men had left the hospital to chase after North's men, North attempted to sneak in as a patient to see Carol. He knew for a fact that Lelandi wasn't there, so she wouldn't be on the premises to ID him. For a few minutes, he'd be alone with Carol in an exam room before Doc Weber, who also could identify him, showed up. North patted the hypodermic in his pocket, this time with a much lower tranquilizer dose so that he could sneak Carol out the window. She'd still be on her feet but drowsy and unable to fight him.

His clammy hands planted in his windbreaker pockets, he tried to look calm instead of on edge as he waited his turn for the nurse to call him. Thankfully, the woman at the desk didn't seem to think anything of the fact that he specifically had asked for Carol. While he studied a magazine, feigning interest in an article, his focus remained on the receptionist. He was listening to her phone conversations to make sure she didn't alert anyone about him.

He figured one of the men sitting in the waiting area was here to guard Carol. Other than him, an elderly balding man in a running suit, two women, one with a small boy, all human, were waiting to be called. North was a walk-in, but the women were, too, so he fit right in.

His hair unruly, the younger man turned his gaze in the direction of the hall, never once looking at North.
Idiot.
If he was a guard, he sure would be easy to slip by. The man didn't seem sick and was definitely a gray. He'd been here before the woman and her little girl arrived, and still he sat without being called.

The male nurse motioned for the elderly man. “Mr.
Howard?” The man got up stiffly, grumbled about moving to Florida and the warmer temperatures, and followed the nurse down the hall.

The guard had been here before the old guy, too. North knew because he'd been watching the place for a good two hours from across the street, away from where his men had been stationed. His men's ploy had worked, drawing the alphas to chase after them. Hopefully, none of them would get caught and he'd be successful in his mission this time. Even though they'd grumbled about him taking the inside job. They could grouse all they wanted. Carol would be his.

He swallowed hard. Damn, his throat was raw. A tickle started low in his throat and without being able to quell it, he coughed. Which led to another hacking spell. Hell, he didn't need to fake being sick, and he figured he was destined for his cousin's fate soon. Then Carol came down the hall, this time dressed in cat scrubs, her blonde hair bouncing with her step, the memory of her naked in his arms making him hard all over again. He'd almost had her. No way would any of his men have the chance to convince her they suited her better.

“Mr. Graylink?” Carol called out.

North concealed a sinister smile.

T
HE GUARD IN THE HOSPITAL WAITING AREA WAS
eyeing Carol until she mentioned North's made-up name. That's when he looked over at North and seemed to realize that North might be someone to watch. But the guard didn't make a move to do anything, and Carol smiled as North stood and walked in her direction, coughing for effect, although the urge to do so was there anyway.

“How are we doing, Mr. Graylink?” she asked, walking with him toward the weighing station.

“Been sick. Running a fever. Coughing. All stuffed up.” He hated to admit any of it. As a werewolf, usually he just shifted. If it was a human viral condition, his wolf side would knock it out since the flu was nontransferable. Same thing if he had a canine bout of flu. But this time it was different. His cousin was the proof of that.

North nearly had a heart seizure when he saw Darien's youngest brother, Tom, watching Carol from the station. Not good. He didn't realize Tom was here. The alpha male was eyeing him with suspicion. North was too short to be a gray and wearing the hunter's spray, so Tom couldn't smell that he was a wolf, either. North had been afraid that if he didn't use a gray name, he might not get in to see Carol since she was newly turned. Now he was afraid that hiding his scent would create the same problem.

Tom drew closer, took a deep breath, analyzing the air, and held up his hand. “Carol, you have another patient waiting for you.”

North coughed again, only this time he couldn't help it. The damned tickling in his throat wouldn't stop, yet it was so sore he was ready to rip it out. He cursed Connor for hiring the bioengineer and the man himself for what he had done to their renegade pack.

“Just this once, Tom.” She smiled at North. “You don't mind if Tom Silver stays in the exam room with us, do you?” She shrugged. “Stalker boyfriend. Have to have a bodyguard around the clock until they catch him.”

North smiled, hoping his expression didn't look too evil. Stalker boyfriend. That was about right. But then he looked serious and nodded, even though this was not what he'd had in mind. An exam room alone with Carol, that's what he'd planned for. He figured he didn't have much of a choice. Hell. He'd have to knock out Tom and then grab Carol. Hopefully, they wouldn't make too much of a ruckus and he'd manage to pull this off.

Tom shook his head. “Darien said only special cases.”

“Special” as in
lupus garou
only because she didn't have her shifting under control, North assumed.

“Matthew is seeing a patient,” Carol said, sounding exasperated. “I'll only be with Mr. Graylink a moment. You'll be with me. Then Doc will see to him.”

“No, Carol. Darien would have my head on this.” He said to North, “Sorry. Please take a seat again in the waiting area. Matthew will be with you in a minute.”

North cleared his phlegm-filled throat. “Probably nothing the doc can do but order me to get bed rest. Unless I have a sinus infection. Might as well go home.”

“What are your symptoms?” Carol asked. He loved the caring way she spoke to him.

“Carol,” Tom said, exasperated.

“If he has a sinus infection, he needs to be on antibiotics,” she said firmly.

“And Matthew can take care of it.” Tom wouldn't back down, but neither would Carol.

North waited, sweat beading on his forehead.

Carol's gaze shifted, her brows furrowing. “Have you had a fever?”

“One-hundred and one,” North lied. He'd had a fever, but it was low grade and had vanished by the previous morning. “But that was last night. I didn't have one this morning. And my teeth have been aching, headache, earache.” Which was true.

“Come over here, and I'll get your blood pressure and temperature.”

Tom folded his arms and glowered at North. In response, North attempted to look demurely sick and un-threatening. Despite feeling lousy, he could still manage a good fight.

“No fever,” Carol said, reassuringly. “Come with me, and you can wait in the exam room for Doc.”

Tom gave her a look like he could throttle her. She ignored him. North hid a smile.

When they entered the room, she motioned for him to sit in a chair and held up a chart, waiting to question him about his symptoms. Tom watched him like a predator would, and North wasn't sure he could overcome Tom and Carol before the alarm was shouted.

Hell, he was here, and it was his show. Without further hesitation and with a well-aimed swing, he hit Tom
with a hard-knuckle fist in the cheek. Tom stumbled back, crashed into the exam table, and swore.

Carol screamed, and North knew he had no chance to take her now. Still, he jerked a syringe out of his coat pocket, but to his amazement, she pulled one from her scrubs pocket, too. For a moment, they stared at each other, hypodermics readied like two swordsmen in battle. He smiled. The woman was worth having.

Then he dodged out of the room, shoved aside the male nurse headed for the room, tore down the hall past a startled Dr. Weber, and dove through the back door before a guy in a red-and-white-striped jacket could even get up from his chair.
Beta wolf
.

“Are you all right, Tom?” Carol asked, touching his shoulder and feeling horrible about the whole affair.

He tossed her an angry look.

“I'll… get an ice pack.”

When she returned to the exam room, Doc was shaking his head.

Appearing sheepish, Christian, who had abandoned his guard post in the waiting area too late to have been of any service, and Mervin stood in the doorway watching them and not saying a word, probably thinking that Darien was going to be pissed at the lot of them for letting one of the reds get so close to Carol and then letting him get away.

Tom glowered at her. “He wasn't human.”

“I know that now,” Carol said, annoyed but also regretful.

Doc cleared his throat. “That was North, a red from my old pack. Must have been wearing hunter's scent. I didn't smell him as he raced by me. Where the hell is
Ryan? I thought he was supposed to be watching you.” The inference was that he wouldn't have let anyone near Carol like Tom and the rest had.

She felt bad, too. If she hadn't insisted on seeing to the patient, wanting to prove that she could still see humans without any threat of shifting so that they would allow her to be a nurse like she should be, Tom wouldn't have been hurt and in trouble with his eldest brother. Jake would be just as annoyed with him, she figured. And Ryan also.

Matthew poked his head in. “Got a case where the boy probably needs to be referred to an orthopedic surgeon in Denver, Doc.”

Doc gave Carol a hard look that reminded her she was one of the pack and had to obey rules. “I'll see to him,” he said to Matthew.

Tom took charge of the guards. “Mervin, return to your post. Christian, stay outside the exam room until Carol leaves for the day.”

Feeling like a
lupus garou
failure, Carol worked for three more hours seeing to one sick patient after another, but she couldn't help worrying about Ryan and about Tom—knowing she'd caused trouble for him.

After finishing with another gray female who had the flu, she thought again about Ryan. Even though she didn't want him getting himself or anyone on the staff in trouble by offering medical advice, she missed his antidotes, all given in the spirit of wanting to help others in need.

She realized then that he was similar to her in wanting to help others. As a P.I. looking into missing persons or wayward spouses or insurance fraud. As the mayor, trying to provide his people with a better way of life.

She glanced out the window between patients as Christian sat outside her exam room and served as a guard, while inside the room Tom watched her. He'd finally given up scowling at her and was resigned to his fate, but she hated seeing where the red had struck him, a reminder to her that not everyone could be trusted, sick or not.

“Ryan will be all right,” Tom finally said.

At the moment, she was worried about how Ryan, Darien, and Jake would react when they learned North had tried to take her again, this time from the hospital, and Tom had gotten clobbered for it.

“Ryan's been shot three times—an unhappy husband caught in an adulterous affair, one fire insurance fraud case, and a robbery attempt at the bank next door to his P.I. business. He always comes out on top,” Tom continued.

Carol closed her gaping mouth. “How—”

“Darien checked up on him. You don't think he hired him to be your bodyguard without seeing if he had the fortitude to do the job, do you?”

“But… if he's been shot that many times, wasn't Darien afraid he wouldn't do the job right?”

“He's had hundreds of cases over the many years he's lived. So proportionately, he's done damn well.”

“You don't really seem to like him,” she said, although Tom had surprised her this time, sounding less harsh concerning Ryan than before when the two were butting heads.

“I think Jake should be the one for you. Then we'd keep you in the family.”

For the first time, Carol saw that he really did act like a protective brother. She smiled. “That's sweet of you. But he's not shown any real interest.”

Tom shook his head and winced. “He's coming a little too late to the party, I'm afraid.”

Her cell phone rang, and she glanced at the Caller ID. Her mother. She'd been so irate every time she and Carol had had a visit recently because someone from the pack always accompanied them. Lelandi, Silva, one of Darien's brothers. Carol imagined her mother was mad about it again, but Carol couldn't tell her why Darien always wanted her chaperoned—that she was a newly turned werewolf and might let her “condition” slip.

Now with her having been kidnapped, pack members were watching her to an even greater degree. Hopefully her mother did not want to get together again soon, although she had loved to go shopping with Carol or to share a lunch. But how could she explain to her mother that she was being guarded more than usual, again?

“Hello, Mom. What's up?”

“Ryan McKinley called me.”

Carol's brain turned to mush. Not in a million years did she think Ryan would call her parents. “He called you? What about?” Her dad was always a real beta in wolf terms, even though he was human like her mother. Her mother definitely wore the pants in the family.

Her mother hesitated to say what McKinley had called her about, and Carol didn't know what to think. “Mom?”

“Did you tell him that I sent you to see that psychiatrist?”

Crap. So was he trying to figure out if she was telling the truth concerning Dr. Metzger's wife's death? Ryan was an investigator, she had to remind herself. It was his business to investigate, and he wouldn't get the truth from Dr. Metzger, not with patient confidentiality issues. But to call her mother…

“What did he ask you, Mom?”

“I didn't tell him anything. I hung up on him. That's what I did. He had no business calling me. He's the one who doesn't believe in your abilities. Isn't that what you said? I have no time for people like that. I don't care if he's interested in dating you. He can't. And that's my final word.”

Carol raised her brows. “I
am
twenty-six, Mom.”

“
Are
you dating him?”

“Well…”

“Oh, Carol. You can't be serious. Your relationships never work out. You need someone who at least believes in what you can do, like your father and I do.”

“I've only had one real relationship. And that was just out of high school.” There was a significant pause, and Carol glanced at the patient's record again.

Her mother said, “I want grandkids.”

Carol bit her lip and looked back at Tom. He was watching out the exam-room window, but she knew he was mentally taking notes of everything she said to her mother. Speaking to any pack member was acceptable. But talking to a human alone, even when that person happened to be her mother? Wouldn't be allowed. Which was ridiculous. If she made a slip about being a werewolf, would anyone believe her? They'd think she was joking.

Well, maybe not, since Carol was psychic and her parents had finally had to embrace the fact. What if she spilled the beans to them? They'd be destined to be just like her. Or terminated. According to Lelandi, anyone who learned that
lupus garous
existed had two choices—become one of them or die.

That seemed cruel, but it was the only way their kind had survived for a millennium or two. Carol could just imagine what would happen if werewolves were found to be real. They'd be treated differently—like outcasts— and most likely examined ruthlessly.

The worst of it? They were virtual fountains of youth, living much longer than their human counterparts. What if humans could manufacture whatever anomaly gave werewolves their increased longevity and bottle it? What if everyone wanted to be werewolves?

Hmm, that could be a good thing, she supposed. No more hiding what they were.

“Carol? Did you hear me? I want grandkids,” her mother repeated over the phone.

Carol took a deep breath. How could she tell her mother that grandkids were out? That they'd be were-kids—and who knew what kind of trouble they could get into? How could she raise little
lupus garous
when she hadn't grown up as one and was still fumbling around with her own identity?

“Mom, I'm working at the hospital and need to go.”

“You do plan to have children, don't you? You're the only daughter we have left now.”

The guilt trip again. “I need a guy in my life first.”

“I shouldn't have hung up on Ryan, should I have?” Her mother sounded really sorry for what she'd done.

Carol smiled. “Probably served him right. Got to go. Talk to you later.”

“Next time you visit, bring Ryan along. I haven't met him, and I want to make sure he's all right for you. That is if you're hell-bent on dating him. I'll give him a talking-to about your uniqueness.”