The Enchanted: Council of Seven Shifter Romance Collection

by Juniper Hart

  Nurse Creighton nodded slowly and extended a slightly wrinkled hand. “Welcome to Dr. Griffin’s lab. I’m sure you have heard about his recent research contributions to cerebral bypass surgery.”

  Kate bobbed her head eagerly. She had probably heard more about his research than Nurse Creighton. Yes, Griffin had won awards for his ground-breaking treatments among the mortals, but his experiments within the Enchanted world were just as incredible. And now she was going to have a hand in his work!

  Dr. Graham Griffin was a world-renowned neurologist, revered by both worlds. His reputation as a playboy and somewhat surly boss preceded him, but Kate was sure she could get past his façade once they were working together.

  And he was a Stanford grad, too. We have lots in common, Kate thought with excitement. She could not wait to pick his brain with her own thoughts and ideas. Particularly when it comes to demon bite antidotes.

  “Yes, of course,” Kate replied excitedly, accepting Nurse Creighton’s outstretched palm. “He is world famous for his innovative venial and arterial stints. I am thrilled to be a part of this.”

  The older woman smirked slightly, withdrawing her hand. “I will program your access card to allow you to enter here, but I don’t think I need to explain how important the information in this room is. Only you, Dr. Griffin, and I will have authorized admittance beyond that door. You’ll sign non-disclosure paperwork.”

  “When will I meet him?” Kate heard herself ask, and she regretted the question as soon as it left her lips. Nurse Creighton’s eyes narrowed, and she scowled.

  Crap! She’s regretting hiring me already!

  “I thought you knew who you were working for. Over and above his ongoing research, Dr. Griffin is the head of neurosurgery and likely next in line to be chief of surgery when Dr. Schwartz retires next year. He has three medical books published, two of which are part of the curriculum in universities across the United States. You’ll be lucky if you see him in the corridors. Were you expecting to work head to head with him into the wee hours of the morning?” she snapped, annoyed. Kate paled and shook her head.

  “No, ma’am. I-I was just hoping to thank him for the opportunity.” The words sounded lame, and Kate found herself cringing again. The nurse’s face seemed to soften, but the sneer stayed in place.

  “Oh, honey,” she said. “You can thank me for the opportunity. He doesn’t even know you exist. You’re just another face who probably won’t last here.”

  Despite her fatigue, Kate trudged down the five flights of stairs. She had the distinct feeling that she would run into Dr. Crankypants if she chanced the elevators again, and she didn’t want the euphoria of the new job to wear off so quickly.

  This opportunity can lead to great things, she thought hopefully. Maybe I’ll switch out of general medicine and focus on being in the lab full-time. Maybe Dr. Griffin doesn’t know me now, but I’ll make sure I make an impression on him.

  As she dragged herself into the foyer of the private hospital, she heard someone call her name, and she groaned inwardly. Just keep walking. You are almost out of this wretched prison. Just a few more steps…

  Truthfully, Kate wasn’t sure she had the energy to physically pivot and face whoever was trying to get her attention, but she wasn’t successful at ignoring the offender. A hand clamped firmly on her shoulder, and she warily looked up. Her body sagged with relief as Lisette peered at her with concern.

  “What are you, deaf? I’ve been screaming your name for two minutes. The entire hospital knows your name now, Kate. Are you okay?”

  Kate nodded tiredly and grinned at her best friend. Lisette was an intern also, the two graduating from Stanford at the same time. But that’s about all she and I have in common, Kate thought wryly, peering at her best friend with affection. While she was as much of a doctor as Kate, Lisette Engles was physically and emotionally Kate’s polar opposite.

  “My ears have already gone to sleep,” Kate answered, stifling a yawn. “I’ve been here for thirty-six hours.” The gorgeous blonde smiled brilliantly, her bright white teeth almost blinding Kate in her sorry state.

  “I’m off at seven. Are you going home?” Lisette asked, walking toward the exit with her friend.

  “Where else is there? It’s either home or the on-call room,” Kate muttered. She paused mid-step as her foggy brain recalled something. “Wake me up when you get in. I’ll take you for drinks,” she announced. Lisette’s eyes widened with interest.

  “Oh? Did you marry a wealthy, old, dying patient already?” she teased. “How very Grey’s Anatomy of you.”

  Kate grimaced. As much as Lisette liked to believe that their lives were tailored after a medical drama, Kate knew the truth.

  “I wish,” Kate snorted, but she grinned. “No, I want to thank you for the tip you gave me.”

  Lisette’s dark eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “You’re going to have to give me a hint. Was it kinky or—?”

  Kate smacked her friend playfully on the arm and rolled her eyes, a slow blush creeping into her cheeks. No matter how long she had known Lisette, her raunchy sense of humor never failed to embarrass Kate. “I got the job in Griffin’s lab.”

  Lisette clapped her hands together and squealed, pausing to pull a pack of cigarettes from her coat pocket. She lit it, blowing smoke rings into the air before turning her attention back to her best friend.

  “I knew you’d be a shoo-in for that job. I’m so proud of you, Kate. Although I hear that Griffin is a miserable SOB to work with… or for.” Kate shrugged her shoulders and laughed.

  “I don’t care if he’s Satan himself. For what he’s paying me, I would gladly be his Igor.” Lisette eyed her speculatively.

  “That’s awesome, Kate. You deserve a break. We both do. This job is suicide.”

  Kate watched as the blonde beauty ashed the smoke between her thumb and finger. Lisette was probably the most stunning fairy Kate had ever known. Everything about her shrieked aspiring model, from her perfectly contoured face to her long-lashed grey eyes. Her lips were full and naturally red, and beneath the shapeless scrubs was a voluptuous body which Rodin would have sculpted for years.

  No one had expected the stunning girl to last through the first five minutes at Stanford, let alone graduate summa cum laude. Yet it seemed that Lisette Engles was one of those anomalies who had as much brain as beauty.

  Kate admitted that she had been the first one to doubt the abilities of the outspoken, oftentimes brash trust fund doctor, but by the end of four years, they were two of only six females left from the original twenty-three who had started in their program.

  Kate privately wondered how Lisette had managed such a feat. She had partied constantly through med school and never studied. In labs, she often made mistakes and was publicly berated by several professors, yet her grades prevailed. It seemed that nothing could stop the force which was Lisette.

  Still, Lisette was a good friend to Kate, opting to stay in the tight basement apartment on South East Rex Street with Kate instead of renting her own luxury condo in Eastmoreland. Kate knew Lisette only did it to help her financially, though the blonde loudly denied any such thing.

  “What is the point of being an intern if you don’t live with another intern?” Lisette had demanded when Kate had suggested she get her own place. “Everyone knows misery loves company, Kate. I want someone to whine to when I’m exhausted and horny and missing my cat.”

  Kate felt guilty because she could not afford better accommodations close to the hospital. To her credit, Lisette had not offered to pay more rent so they could share a nicer apartment, as Kate had expected. Lisette knew Kate well enough to know that her brunette counterpart had been born with a steel rod of pride fused in her spine. She would regard Lisette paying a higher rate of rent as charity, and Kate did not accept charity.

  Instead, Lisette had invited herself to live in the seven-hundred-square-foot walk-out basement apartment. It was a huge step down for Lisette, but she never compla
ined, decorating the dull space with trendy, expensive furniture and electronics.

  “Did you meet Griffin?” Lisette asked, and Kate waited as she finished her cigarette. She shook her head, and Lisette arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “At least he’s hot. Hopefully, the eye candy will make up for the bruises he’s bound to leave on your ego.”

  “I don’t care if he’s hot,” Kate mumbled, yawning as she spoke.

  “Go home and get some sleep,” Lisette told her. “Your eyelids are dropping as we speak. But know that I will be jumping on your bed tonight, demanding my gratitude drinks.”

  “You better,” Kate replied, but her words turned into another yawn, and she found herself rubbing her eyes. I finally made it through the worst day, and with a new job. It’s not so bad. I got this.

  If Lisette had tried to wake Kate that evening, she didn’t know about it. When she parted her exhausted brown eyes, the alarm clock at her side read three forty-six, and Kate’s mind filled with panic. She didn’t know where she was and thought she had slept in, mistaking the time for late afternoon, not the wee hours of the morning. It took her several minutes to regain her bearings.

  You’re okay. No need to panic. It’s the middle of the night, and you’re not on call, she recited to herself. It was a little shtick a professor had taught in a psychology class her first year at Stanford.

  “You will find yourself waking up in the night, soaked in sweat and wondering where you are. The guilt will be suffocating, and you will have no sense of your surroundings. You must repeat these words in your head: It is the middle of the night or day, and I am not on call.”

  “But what if it happens and you are on call?” one smart-mouthed student shouted back.

  Professor Stanley smiled coldly. “Then you better get your bearings and run,” he replied.

  No need to get my bearings and run, Kate told herself, slowly swinging her legs off the side of the uncomfortable mattress. I’m off today. I can crawl right back into bed.

  She stumbled out of her tiny, dark bedroom and into the dimly lit hallway. As she shuffled toward the front of the basement to use the washroom, she heard a giggle from Lisette’s room, followed by a man’s deep laughter. Kate paused, blinking, and then shook her head, mildly annoyed but not at all surprised. Lisette’s sexual escapades were plentiful.

  Where does she get the energy? I could not imagine entertaining a man after working that many hours straight. She must be a hybrid vampire or something. She’s a machine.

  A low groan filtered out of the room, and Kate realized she was still standing in the corridor outside her roommate’s bedroom. Embarrassed, she made her way into the bathroom. After she washed her hands, she flung the door open and started in shock.

  Dr. Crankypants stood naked on the other side of the door.

  “Is this some kind of joke?” he muttered, his jaw dropping in shock as he saw her, but Kate was just as stunned to see him.

  “W-what are you doing here?” she asked dumbly, feeling foolish as the words left her lips. A slow smile curled over his, and he leaned over across the doorframe, folding his arms over his broad chest. Unable to stop herself, Kate felt her eyes trailing over the defined lines of his ripped abs, and she swallowed visibly. She could smell his pheromones wafting into her nostrils and causing her to feel slightly dizzy as she gaped at him.

  “Are you going to stand in my way all night?” he grumbled, but there was a certain glint of amusement in his blue eyes. Kate finally wrenched her eyes away, feeling her face explode into a deep purple. She stepped aside and watched as he sauntered across the tiny hall toward Lisette’s bedroom, her eyes drawn to his undulating hips.

  Why does the universe mock me endlessly? she moaned, closing the door to the bathroom. When she opened it again, the door to Lisette’s room was firmly closed, but she no longer heard the sound of either voice. Making her way back to her own bedroom, an uncomfortable sense of foreboding filled Kate’s stomach as she heard him grumbling to her roommate through the thin door.

  I have seen that guy three times today. Does that mean something? Especially today, when I got the job with Dr. Griffin? Is he a bad omen, or a good sign? Or just a bad penny? Kate shook her disheveled dark hair as if to clear the silliness from her thought. Go back to sleep. I’m becoming delusional and suspicious in my exhaustion.

  Kate closed her eyes, and instantly, she was flooded with the desire to fall back asleep, despite the nagging sense of foreboding gnawing at her gut. When she fell asleep, she dreamt about Dr. Griffin, and they were getting fingerprints on every piece of equipment in the lab.

  3

  “Bovie.” The nurse handed the tool to the lead surgeon as classical music played softly in the background.

  “Suction.” Immediately, another surgeon sprung into action as a spurt of blood squirted from the cut.

  Dr. Graham Griffin stood in the gallery, watching the surgery from above, his pulse beginning to race. The monitors started beeping erratically, and the surgeon looked up at the screens.

  “What is happening?” he called out to his team.

  “His blood pressure hit the floor,” one of the nurses called back, and the surgeon in charge returned to the task of soldering the brain bleed.

  “Okay,” he muttered. “Hang in there.”

  You fool. You should never have risked this operation, the senior attending thought furiously, watching his colleague fight to regain control of the situation before him. Graham couldn’t watch anymore. Dr. Parker had killed the patient, despite his express orders not to perform the complicated procedure. He exited the viewing room and headed toward the chief’s office, his hands shaking with anger. Without knocking, he threw open the door to Dr. Schwartz’s office. The chief of surgery was on the phone and cast Graham a baleful look as the head of neurosurgery stormed inside.

  “Parker killed another one,” he declared, completely disregarding the fact that Schwartz was mid-conversation.

  “Let me call you back,” the chief sighed, replacing the office line and facing the brilliant doctor who stood seething in his workspace. “What?” Dr. Schwartz asked. “Who died?”

  “The patient you okayed to have Parker cut open despite my explicit instructions that he was too unstable to undergo such a trauma. He just had cardiac bypass surgery, for Christ’s sake! What were you thinking?”

  “Graham, sit down,” the elderly doctor said, but the bear refused, his arms folded firmly over his chest in defiance. He could feel his incisors grinding against his gums, but he willed himself not to shift.

  Sometimes, he forgot he was still confined by The Charter inside the hospital he had come to think of as his own. Sometimes, it was difficult to separate his doctor persona from his alpha bear personality. They seemed to be synonymous, both avenues of his life intersecting into one.

  But the hospital isn’t my own, not yet, Graham thought grimly. Not while this fossil still runs things and lets clowns like Parker do whatever the hell they want without repercussions.

  “I can’t sit down, Eli. Parker’s track record for murdering patients is off the charts! How could you override my advice and let him do this?” It was stunning to Graham that he was the one rousing these complaints. The mortals were the mortals’ responsibilities, but they seemed to be killing themselves faster than Graham could keep up.

  Eli’s eyes narrowed in anger, and he rose, staring intently at Graham. “Graham, I respect you as a doctor, and I know that you care about this hospital and your patients, but if you ever call one of our fellow residents a murderer again, I will write you up. Do you understand?”

  Graham stood seething, checking his next words carefully. He couldn’t stop the scoff from leaving his lips. The truth hurts, huh? You’d rather write me up than do something about this prick?

  “I don’t understand why you put me in charge of the department if you’re going to undermine my authority,” he retorted in a clipped tone. The chief’s and the neurosurgeon’s gazes clashed for a lo
ng moment, Graham’s blazing blue eyes flashing. Dr. Schwartz sighed heavily and looked away, reclaiming his seat.

  “Graham, I am not undermining you. I simply have more experience than you. No one doubts that you are a brilliant doctor. Your innovations have put Carlingview on the map. Your lab is legendary. You have saved lives where others have completely given up. But you’re young, and you must appreciate that some of us know more about medicine from an experience standpoint than you.”

  Graham chewed on the insides of his cheeks so hard, he tasted blood. I’m older than your great-grandfather! he wanted to howl, holding himself back. In truth, Graham was new to modern medicine. While he had been alive longer than anyone could have guessed, he had only held a medical degree for just shy of two decades.

  “Does Parker know more than me?” Graham retorted caustically. “Because the family of the patient he just killed isn’t going to think much of his experience now, is it?”

  “Graham…”

  Graham did not wait to hear the chief’s next words. He was already stalking out into the hall, almost knocking over the head of general surgery in the process.

  “Where’s the fire, Graham?” another doctor asked lightly, but Graham did not stop to address the man. His mind was whirling, and he willed himself to remain calm.

  Parker dropped the ball, plain and simple. That man should never have been in surgery today, and I don’t care how much “experience” Schwartz thinks he has; he is complicit in killing a patient. Graham headed toward the elevators and jabbed the up arrow angrily, trying to regain his composure. I’m going to the lab. I need to focus more on my research and less on the patients, especially if my team is going to go behind my back and run to the chief every time I decline to operate.