Chapter 4
Josh
Once, Dr. Florence’s cold, calculated approach would have impressed me.
Now, it was just pissing me off. I’d had all of three seconds to register waking up in Elijah’s arms before I’d been whisked off, blanket and all.
The next few hours consisted of being forced to eat virtually twice my body weight in vitamin-enriched protein, scrubbed within an inch of my life, and hooked up to every monitor known to man. That had been a week ago.
I didn’t even wince as Dr. Florence dug a needle in my arm for yet another sample of blood.
Though what she could deduce from this one that she hadn’t from the first thirty-seven was beyond me.
It was a miracle I had any blood left to give.
As if all the poking and prodding wasn’t bad enough, I’d yet to see hide nor hair of Elijah, though I didn’t believe he’d left.
The occasional whiff of his scent or glimpse of his passing stymied my confidence that he continued to lurk around the ward.
He was one of the few things that didn’t smell of disinfectant or harsh sterilizing agents.
The memory of his unique smell fogged my mind.
Asleep, I’d been convinced I was lying in a sun-warmed field after a summer rain.
The thick richness of it had seeped into every pore, spreading warmth and comfort everywhere it settled.
I hadn’t even been surprised when I blinked my eyes open to find Elijah’s warm cognac ones looking down at me, relief clearly written in his gaze.
I shook my head to dispel the image.
“Hold still.”
I just barely didn’t curl my lip at the doctor, though she spared me an annoyed look that suggested she was fully aware of my increasing dislike. I suspected the feeling was mutual.
She finished removing the needle, not even bothering to wipe away the drop of blood that bubbled in its wake.
While it was entirely possible she didn’t bother to do so simply because of the advanced healing that all lycans had, I suspected that wasn’t the case.
Dr. Florence toed the line of professionalism with her obvious distaste for her patient’s biology.
She tapped the vial, forcing the red liquid to bubble and turned to her microscope without a word.
“Has anyone ever told you your bedside manner is seriously wanting?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I have not had any complaints.” The flat statement practically dared me to file one.
“So, all of your patients are perfectly okay with your complete disregard?”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here to be your doctor. A task, I might add, that would be significantly easier if you didn’t insist on questioning every test or procedure I order.”
A low warning vibrated through me. No one had ever had the audacity to speak to me in such a manner. I was a respected government agent, decorated, revered, feared, and with enough personal wealth at my disposal to buy the whole fucking hospital and ensure that she never found work again.
She eyed the monitor, keeping close tabs on my vitals, more specifically my heart rate. “If you cannot control your agitation, I will have no choice but to administer a sedative.”
My lip finally curled, but I curtailed another growl from slipping out.
Satisfied that her threat had been received, she returned to her inspection of my blood work. “Findings remain consistent that you are afflicted with Mien Zeke. Per your partner’s insistence, the treatment for said condition has not been administered.”
“Just as well, seeing as how even the tiniest dose of that treatment would prove fatal to me.”
“There are no genetic markers to indicate such an extreme reaction. Your abnormality is no more distinguished than any other case, despite its obvious severity.”
I barely held a growl in check, though my nails scraped across the flimsy table with a horrible screech. “Have you bothered to test the treatment on any of the countless samples you insist on taking?”
Her lips pursed into a thin line, answering my question. “Your medical plan has certain stipulations. The priority of which requires that you be treated by the premier physician on staff. I am doing my job.”
And yet, she never once attempted to treat me while I’d been in wolf form.
That responsibility had fallen solely to the young, determined Dr. Lyons.
My recollection of that time consisted mostly of blurs and days running into nights, but what I didn’t know, the wolf did.
He knew a lot of things. The added layer of instincts and perceptions that assaulted me was, in a word, unnerving.
Dr. Florence continued to stare at me as if awaiting another argument.
While it was incredibly tempting to point out that my exceptionally comprehensive plan also dictated that if I died on her watch, her grandchildren’s grandchildren would be dealing with malpractice suits, I opted to let it drop.
The sooner I could leave this sterile hell, the better.
With a huff, I turned my attention to the observation window lining the lab. My gaze instantly zeroed in on Elijah.
How long has he been there?
He stood deep in conversation with Dr. Lyons, animatedly talking with his hands while she nodded along and offered the occasional silent response. The tension from the conversation with Dr. Florence evaporated as my hungry gaze picked out every detail I’d been denied the last seven days.
His gray hair had gotten longer, his typical bun absent.
The tightness around his eyes spoke of exhaustion, and even from ten yards away his shoulders were noticeably tense.
Despite all of that, Elijah Bennett was still heart-stoppingly beautiful.
Those same tense shoulders were broad and well-defined.
His strong jaw darkened with scruff. Expressive cognac eyes caught the light and flashed yellow. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.
Every cell in my body screamed at me to do the same.
My fingers itched to run across the smooth definition of his stomach, heat pooling at each tip and seeping into me.
Carding those same fingers through his glorious hair.
My mouth watered at the mere thought of capturing those delectable lips with fervent kisses.
Blood roared in my ears as he moaned. It wrapped around my core as I tightened my legs around him.
His hands warmed my ass as he lifted me higher to feel him, that aching heat teasing me.
Raw need crashed through me as he slowly lowered me onto that tantalizing heat so he could possess me, body and soul.
I dug my fingers into his shoulders, desperate for more even as he set a punishing pace.
Electricity sparked along every nerve ending. The ache spread, growing to unbearable heights, begging for release. He lowered his head to nibble on my neck. My breath caught. Pleasure tightened around my spine.
“Detective Hart,” Dr. Florence snapped, shattering the fantasy.
I dragged in a ragged breath, surprised to find myself completely clothed and still in the lab. A glance over my shoulder revealed a beyond-irritated Dr. Florence. At some point, I’d vacated the exam table and was now pressed against the spelled glass, prompting rainbows of magic to radiate out.
I swallowed hard and took a step back. This moon sickness business was a veritable minefield of sensation and emotional overload.
Not even stray thoughts were safe. The roaring in my ears gradually subsided, and the source of Dr. Florence’s fury became evident.
The heart rate monitor was beeping like crazy.
I took another deep breath and attempted to force my shaking limbs to still. The breath had next to no effect, as my body remained keenly aware of Elijah’s proximity. Beeps continued to flood the room in a loud, rapid rhythm.
Her scowl deepened. “I have no qualms about calling security if you cannot control your urges.”
My hackles rose, my arousal and embarrassment instantly replaced by overwhelming anger. “Have you ever actually treated Mien Zeke?”
She sniffed. “I’ve treated numerous lycanthropes over the years.”
There was no containing my growl. The sound rolled out of me, deep and ominous at a timbre that threatened to shake the beakers sitting on the counter. “That’s not what I asked you.”
She took a step back, her hand hovering over the emergency call button. Her wary gaze tracked my movements. “Statistically, some were bound to be similarly afflicted.”
I flexed my hand, which was already aching with the pain of the change. My jaw clenched as I fought off the sudden urge to transform. “So, no then? Why are you my doctor?”
She let out an indignant huff. “I already told you—”
“I’m well aware of the stipulations in my medical policy.
However, if you are not qualified to treat my particular condition, then I see no reason to continue this charade.
Especially considering your obvious distaste for my physiology.
Or am I mistaken? By all means, tell me you’re not a speciesist bigot that would sooner see a werewolf die than take the time to treat them properly. ”
I didn’t even realize I’d been advancing on her throughout the tirade until her hand slammed down on the button.
Instantly, a flood of orderlies armed with syringes poured into the lab.
I snarled as I evaded two only to be caught by a third.
Dr. Florence’s smug look of satisfaction was the last thing I saw before the cold sliding through my veins pulled me under.
Elijah
One minute Josh was staring at me with such intensity I thought it would shatter the glass. The next, he was advancing on Dr. Florence with murderous intent.
“What the hell?” I asked at the same time Dr. Lyons said, “Oh, no.”
A light flashed above the door to the lab, bathing the hall in red, and an ear-piercing wail sliced through the air. In less than a heartbeat, half a dozen people converged on the room.