by RJ Blain
The next time a semi crawled along, I’d wait or exceed the speed limit passing.
Lesson learned.
Time distorted as it often did when subjected to the influence of painkillers, and when I finally got around to blinking, I’d upgraded from a sassy cat to a cranky woman. While I hadn’t been able to verify if I’d actually had a tube down my throat, I was pleased to discover I was free from any invasive objects outside of a pesky IV line.
I amused myself glaring at the catheter in my arm, my conscious state unnoticed by Sassy or anyone else. Sassy waged war with a white-coated doctor, and when I got around to examining him, his freakishly pale skin and wispy white hair distracted me from listening in on their argument. His hair blended with the wall, and I wondered how he combed it without breaking the fine strands. I could understand why the old man let his hair run free; the instant he applied any product, I bet he’d resemble a drowned rat.
“Miss Chetty, I’m not asking you to leave permanently. You would benefit from a few hours outside of the hospital while Mr. Clinton undergoes testing. You can’t accompany him, and you, frankly spoken, could use a shower.”
A stressed, busy Sassy sometimes forgot she could out-stink a rotting skunk during a heatwave given twenty-four hours and weak deodorant. One day, she might win the deodorant war. Maybe.
Instead of buying her shoes, I needed to invest in every type of deodorant manufactured so she could date the perfect deodorant rather than deadbeat cheetahs destined to drive her insane. She’d emerge better for the odd relationship with varied hygiene products.
Until I could find her the perfect deodorant capable of withstanding her when stressed, I could help the doctor evict my sassy cheetah for a while. “I thought the skunk imitation contest was scheduled for next month.”
My tongue cooperated, a miracle all things considered, but my voice emerged raspy and soft.
Sassy still heard me, and she whirled around, her eyes wide. “Aaron!”
“I think I’m late with our client’s pictures.” Expressing my work concerns might get her on the move. Maybe.
Sassy perched on the edge of the hospital bed, and she flicked my forehead. “I took care of it; Dad got us some good leads. Our client signed off, and he paid the full balance owed plus a bonus for the extras. He got right cranky about it, too. The bastard probably thought we’d violate our contract with you down and out for the count. He came through despite being a jerk about it, though. Thanks for uploading the contract terms, by the way. It saved me having to get my damned brother to hack into your computer to get to them. We need to make sure future contracts are in the joint folders by default.”
“I got lazy. Sorry. He gave you problems?”
“Not particularly. Reminding him of the contract terms cleared the matter up, as it reminded him of the pesky little details he hoped I wouldn’t remember.
Miracles could happen, although Tom Heatherow’s audacity and attempt to get out of the bill worried me.
“It wasn’t a big deal, Aaron. It took me less than five minutes to clarify the contract terms, and once he saw our work, he paid the bonus voluntarily. I’m just annoyed he assumed we’d flop on the contract because of the accident.”
“The semi won. That’s not fair,” I complained in an effort to convince her I’d be fine without having any idea what was actually wrong with me.
“You remember what happened?”
While certain the doctor wanted to be the one to ask the questions, I ignored his displeased expression and focused on my partner instead. “I remember a semi rammed me into the median. That’s it.”
“Your truck flipped into oncoming traffic.”
Okay. While I’d expected crunching into a median would be dangerous at best, flipping over the median hadn’t even occurred to me as a possibility. I blinked. “I’m still alive?”
“Aaron!”
“I thought it was a valid question,” I whined. All things considered, after surviving through a semi flipping my truck into oncoming traffic, I needed to invest in a few lottery tickets.
The doctor cleared his throat, and while Sassy narrowed her eyes, she gave him her attention. “You were exceptionally fortunate, Mr. Clinton. If the passenger in your vehicle had been incapacitated, you would have died. You’re doubly fortunate he knew basic first aid and CPR. Unfortunately, due to the severity of the accident, it’s probable you were exposed to the lycanthropy virus.”
Nice. Life had given me a lemon in the form of a semi ramming my truck into the medial, but I’d gotten a cool glass of sweetened lemonade with the bonus of not having to trick Sassy at all to be exposed to the virus. “Cool. I can enter the date Sassy bachelor pool. Even the right species. Hey, does that give me automatic parental approval?”
Silence answered my question, which was when I realized what should’ve been a private thought had exited my mouth without permission.
Damned painkillers, escorting me right to the executioner’s block. So much for my nice glass of lemonade. As I couldn’t make the situation any worse, I added, “Oops.”
Sassy faced me, her mouth hanging open with her eyes wide. I added her reaction to the pro column.
Maybe I might survive for a few more minutes, especially if I tossed in a bribe. “I bought you those fancy clear shoes with the red soles and their matching purse. Please don’t kill me for what the drugs made me say.”
The doctor cleared his throat again. Why did doctors like clearing their throats when they wanted attention? Did all doctors have a chronic throat problem from trying to explain medical issues to their patients? “It could be up to a year before we can confirm if you were infected, Mr. Clinton. There are factors involved. We’re not certain how much blood transferred during the accident or if your genetics offer any resistances to the virus. There’s also the matter of blood loss. If you’re a viable host, the virus may replicate faster to encourage your recovery. That’s rare, but it can happen. You were in critical condition upon arrival, which makes this a slim possibility. In twenty-four hours, we’ll be able to test for early incubation. That said, we’ll only test if you desire. Some patients prefer not knowing right away, and this early in infection, you won’t be contagious. Your first mandatory testing will be in a year.”
“Incubation? Like an egg? But they’re cats, not chickens.”
Sassy clamped her mouth closed.
“No, Mr. Clinton. The incubation period is when the lycanthropy virus develops in the body. Once you’re contagious, the virus is considered to be fully established. It’s matured when you have your first shift.”
“Okay. Good. I don’t want to go into an egg.”
Sassy dissolved into a fit of giggles. “No eggs, Aaron. I promise.”
“Wait. I like omelets. I like cake, too. I need eggs for those.”
“You can still eat eggs.”
“Just you try to take my omelets,” I warned.
The doctor cleared his throat again, and I worried my doctor would need a doctor at the rate he was going. “Miss Chetty, if you would please leave so we can begin testing, it would be appreciated.”
“But Dad isn’t here yet.”
“As Mr. Clinton will be in testing, Mr. Chetty will be unable to accompany him. There’s no visitation during testing.”
For a moment, I thought Sassy would fight the doctor’s edict, but she wrinkled her nose and sighed. “Fine.”
I forced my arm into motion and poked her to get her attention. “Please. Go shower. You’re going to make the skunks feel bad about themselves.”
With a low growl, she jumped off the bed, stormed from the room, and slammed the door behind her. “I’m going to have to buy her a new pair of shoes again, aren’t I?”
“Not of all life’s problems can be solved with buying her shoes, Mr. Clinton.”
“Bite your tongue!”
The doctor chuckled.
The testing session lasted several hours, but the hour-long explanation of my injuries exhausted
me. Internal bleeding and a head injury took the top spots at the most severe, and the head injury took the blame for my stint on life support with the assistance of a severely cut throat. I’d have a scar for a while; assuming I contracted lycanthropy, the virus would eventually remove the mark, but for a few years, I’d carry a reminder of how I’d almost lost my head in the accident.
One fact rose above all the others: without Sassy’s father, I would’ve bled out before the paramedics had arrived at the scene. How the hell was I supposed to thank him? Fancy heels wouldn’t work. Tools might, but I’d need to replace my truck before I worried about buying anyone anything.
For a shamefully long time, I contemplated ruining my career with a count of kidnapping. Taking Sassy somewhere quiet for some rest and relaxation seemed ideal. Who needed a career anyway? Escaping from reality would help. Unfortunately, I estimated I wouldn’t escape the hospital for another week unless I got lucky.
Instead of running away like I wanted, I endured an MRI and numerous other machines tasked with checking on my health and making sure I stayed alive. Sometime after the MRI but before anyone could update me on how long I’d be stuck in the hospital, the painkillers sucker punched me.
The next time I regained coherency, the room suffered from a cop infestation, the head annoyance of the District Attorney’s office, and a cranky Sassy determined to drive them off. As such entertainment couldn’t be purchased on a regular day, I watched with interest.
Sassy bristled at the DA, her hands balled into fists and her entire body shaking, a surefire sign she might finally snap and go for the DA’s throat. “Maybe if you’d wanted his pictures, you should’ve accepted his open offer to have them the day he was in the station and questioned,” she snarled. I couldn’t tell if she meant the jab at the DA or the cops, although I decided it didn’t matter; she’d nailed them both with her single statement.
Within ten minutes, she’d sprout a fur coat and spit curses at them as a feline, something I’d enjoy. Unless they got lucky, it would take her an hour to cool her temper, and they’d regret annoying her into wasting their time.
Robert Allamant, the DA and a royal pain in my ass, sighed. “Miss Chetty, the new evidence—”
“The new evidence can kiss my ass!” she yowled. “He offered the police evidence, which was refused. He could’ve died because of that fucking refusal. What if the pictures showed the killer?”
“Miss Chetty—”
“Don’t you even Miss Chetty me, you ass! You and your cops dropped the ball. Because you dropped the ball, Aaron’s truck is scrap, and who the hell knows when he’ll be going home?”
Yep, my partner was ten seconds shy of sprouting fur and rampaging in a hospital. “Watch out, Rob. She might bite, and honestly, if we end up stuck with each other while you’re being treated for rabies, we’ll try to kill each other given an hour. You’d win with your current advantage.”
Being the one laid up had its perks; the argument slammed to a halt, and Sassy spun to face me, her eyes redder than I liked. Sassy didn’t cry often, but when her anger surged enough, she, according to her, sobbed because it was illegal to kill people who pissed her off.
“Aaron?” Too many questions hung in the air, and I organized them by priority, which meant I ignored them and focused on her red eyes instead. “If any of them made you cry, I’m accepting a rain check on beating the responsible parties.”
She sassed me with a roll of her eyes. “Your mother sent Easter lilies because she’s evil.”
Allergies. Right. I blamed the drugs for forgetting about Sassy’s allergies to pretty flowers. “She actually visited?”
My mother couldn’t stand lycanthropes, and she went out of her way to torment Sassy, resulting in me spending more time with Sassy’s parents than mine. Considering I’d had a strict ‘flee from Sassy’s father’ policy until recently, I found it amazing my parents had even found out about the accident in the first place.
“Under protest and armed with Easter lilies.” Sassy wrinkled her nose. “She cried, tried to take me home with her, cried some more when the doctors said she couldn’t take me home with her, and then cried some more when your father and cousin made her leave. Your brother’s coming off deployment to see you.”
I locked onto the one man in the room who might be able to save me: Maxwell. “Help.”
The cops laughed while the DA narrowed his eyes and frowned. “What’s the problem?”
Wonderful. Great. Stupendous. I eyed the machine responsible for dishing out the painkillers, wondering how to make it do its job and knock me out again. I’d seen that look on the DA’s face before. I’d become his current big case.
“He gets pissy because I’m better than he is at everything,” my brother announced from the doorway, dressed in a flight suit and looking ready to take out a military outpost without help. “You don’t look dead to me. Mom said you were dead or dying.” He patted his gun, which could reduce a human skull to mist at the single pull of its trigger.
“You’re not supposed to bring the mister into a hospital, Mark,” I replied, pointing at his gun. “You’re supposed to leave your baby with the military.”
“Oh, this one isn’t my baby. This is one I borrowed from somebody here. My baby is still in Canada. They wouldn’t let me take her onto the plane for some reason.”
“Space in the cockpit?” I guessed.
“They bitched and moaned I wanted to bring a bag with me as it was. So, I got this call from Mom about you being dead or dying.”
“If I’m dying, don’t tell me, and if I’m not dying, don’t help. What hell hole did they pull you out of this time, and why is your baby in Canada?”
“I was guest training some Canadians. I bet my baby is slutting it up with some Canadians right now at the range. She’s randy like that. I called in a minion and caught a flight over.”
“Mugged a fighter jet?”
“Borrowed. I didn’t have to resort to mugging this time. I even nabbed a pilot, too. I got away with it because the pilot’s a good test pilot, and I promised Sheppard could borrow him to beat on some new recruits until I was finished here. I needed to take some leave anyway, and you made for a decent excuse.”
“Gee. So glad I could help.”
“What’s this howling I heard down the hall about you and the copper shop dropping balls?”
I closed my eyes, sighed, and contemplated escaping out the window. Unfortunately, my brother would enjoy chasing me, dragging me back to the hospital, and ensuring I stayed put until a doctor convinced him I wasn’t actually about to die. “Mom brought Easter lilies and riled Sassy up. Before that, I was napping.”
“The yelling woke you up?” Mark stepped to my bedside, and on route, he shoved his flight helmet onto Sassy’s head. “Simmer down there, kitty.”
My partner sighed. “I hate you, Mark.”
“That’s Lieutenant Colonel Mark to you.”
“Like hell it is, you egg-headed buffoon.”
That Sassy hadn’t gone straight for my brother’s throat as usual impressed me.
Mark grunted and arched a brow. “She’s even sassier than usual. What’s gotten your kitty so riled up?”
“I’m guessing a close brush with death in the form of a car accident, potentially a failed murder attempt from the little I’ve gleaned from the screaming. Hey, check it out. The DA is visiting me, and we haven’t tried to kill each other yet. Isn’t the CDC supposed to be notified when miracles happen?”
“Why is Robbie visiting you anyway?”
“I’m guessing he wanted to fight with Sassy. Sassy’s giving him a hard time about some photographs. I’m rather entertained right now.”
“You’re also higher than a kite. They have you on the good painkillers, I see.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I’m always right,” my brother replied. “Thank you for noticing.”
Sassy yanked my brother’s helmet off her head and flung it at him. �
��You smell worse than a skunk.”
I arched a brow. “Why’d you leave it on your head for so long, then?”
“Shock something like a helmet could smell so bad,” she admitted.
Mark tucked his helmet under his arm and grinned. It amazed me the unconventional projectile hadn’t made a mess of the expensive medical equipment doing important things like keeping me alive. I considered the situation, and as my brother didn’t just come off deployment for any old reason, including me doing some time in the hospital, I figured there was something more than just an accident bringing him back from Canada. “Why are you here, Mark? I could see them punting you home for my funeral if you weren’t deployed in the field, but I’m obviously not dead.”
“I showed my CO the pictures of your truck and suggested I might overly tenderize some Canadians if I didn’t get a week off and a ride home. He gave me two weeks as long as I attempted to behave myself, three if required. Word down the line is a serial killer tried to add you to his tally.”
“You officially know more about this than I do. While I’d guessed there was a possibility the accident hadn’t been accidental, the serial killer part is new.” The serial killer part had been a possibility from the start, but I hadn’t expected to get drawn directly into the line of fire—not yet, at least. The assholes, newly released criminals, and anyone else with a grudge usually waited until I’d actively stuck my nose where it didn’t belong.
Rob scowled, giving my brother his undivided attention. “How did you find out about that?”
“It hit the news, our mother called me, and I asked a few insiders for extra intel. I want a copy of the pictures, Aaron.”
“I’ll give you copies of the pictures that exclude contracted information. If you want the pictures without my work in them, you’ll need a warrant. Same with you, Rob. Don’t pick on Sassy too much in exchange.”