by PJ Schnyder
“Deanna.”
Her eyes flew open and she stared around wildly. Tom was crawling toward her. No, dragging himself toward her on his belly. His forearms were bleeding. Whole chunks had been ripped from his flesh. In one or two spots near his elbows, white showed through. His bone? No. More likely his tendons.
All those thoughts flashed through her mind as she struggled to deal with what was happening logically, as she tried to cope.
Tom was reaching for her. “Deanna. The vaccine. We can fix this. We can...”
She shook her head. “It’s preventative only. It can’t cure you. It can’t.”
“You have to.” Tom’s face twisted into an awful, angry grimace. “Bitch. You are going to save me. All you have to do is want to bad enough. I’ll bite you myself and make you save us both.”
Deanna shrank away from him. He’d been a genial colleague, but not anymore. Now, he was a man trying to save himself...even if it meant killing her. She didn’t want to end here. She had to defend herself.
Harm none.
Even now, she couldn’t strike out at him, couldn’t kick him away. He dragged himself closer, reached for her again. She fumbled inside her shirt for the tiny leather pouch she always kept with her, prepared for emergencies. Yanking it free of her clothing, she squeezed her eyes shut and focused. Years of discipline cleared away the fear, the panic, and for one brief moment, she had the peace she needed.
Stay away.
No words were necessary, only the clarity of her intent. The ward activated. Tom tried to reach for her and came up against an invisible barrier. His eyes widened as he searched wildly for a way past, but she was surrounded by a protection of her own making. Tom cried out in rage and anguish and balled up a hand, beating at the magical ward.
“You can save me. I know you can save me!” His words turned to harsh sobs. “I don’t want to become one of those. Please, no.”
Deanna trembled, struggling to hold on to the ward and the power behind it. “Stay away, Tom. Don’t come any closer.”
“Don’t leave me like this.” His pleading ripped at her heart.
A shadow loomed behind him, moving too quickly and too silent to be one of the walking dead. The werewolf had returned.
“No one can save you.” The words held no cruelty. In fact, the hard fist around Deanna’s lung eased a fraction at the compassion in the rough voice. “There’s no cure, but you don’t have to become one of them.”
Tom turned his upper body, his legs not quite working. He craned his neck to face the werewolf. “You mean you’ll kill me.”
“Yes.”
Tom swallowed audibly. “I don’t want to die.”
“None of them wanted to either.” So calm, full of understanding. “I can make it quick for you. Stop the pain.”
Who was this?
“D-don’t kill me.” Tom turned to face her, despair turning to anger as his eyes narrowed. “You could have saved me. I’ll never...”
She hadn’t seen the werewolf move. Suddenly he was between Tom and her, and his strong arms gathered her to him. For a moment, she breathed in spicy musk, and then the air left her in a huff as he tossed her over his shoulder. The ground dropped away and they began moving at a dizzying speed.
Her ward. He’d come right through her ward.
“No! I’m sorry!” Tom’s scream echoed off the walls. “Don’t leave me!”
* * *
“Tom. Six.”
“What?” Danny scanned the city street for other dangers. Contrary to idjit hunter beliefs, the zombies did leave the parks and were more likely to do so at night when they were more active. When she didn’t say anything more, he turned back to where he’d placed her on the steps of an abandoned building. Then he did a double-take.
She stared straight ahead, kept her gaze fixed on a point somewhere beyond his shoulder. He followed her line of sight and saw nothing, heard only the normal sounds of the night. But he wasn’t hearing something important from her.
“Breathe.” He kept it just shy of an order, tried to gentle his tone. “Breathe for me. That’s it. Then you can talk.”
Her shoulders relaxed a fraction and her chest rose nice and slowly. The frantic hammering he could hear in her chest eased back to a steadier pace. Good.
A single tear caught the moonlight as it fell down her cheek.
Full moon tonight—plenty of light to hunt by. Her team must have thought it the perfect night to begin their studies. When Danny had come across their tracks, he’d followed the trail from one body covered in feeding zombies to the next. He hadn’t stopped or even slowed, not when the zombies would have turned on him and not when he still had the chance to save the living. It’d been Tom’s shouting that led him to Deanna and their fresh trail. Couldn’t have saved the stupid male. Only her. And Danny would spare no regrets about it either.
He brushed the tear from her skin and resisted the urge to lift it to his mouth to taste. He must be going mad. “What were you trying to say?”
“Tom.” She blew out air in a slow, controlled stream. Tried again. “He was the sixth. The entire team is dead, half a dozen gone. There’s only me. Otherwise, I’d ask you to help me go back to save them.”
Brave woman.
Every sentence had to have taken effort. She wrapped her arms around her upper body, as if she could hold herself together. It’d be a bad time to tell her he wouldn’t have gone back. Even if they’d been alive when he’d rescued her, her colleagues would have been dead by now. As stirred up as the zombies were, returning to that part of the park now would be a suicide mission.
Still in phase-form his hands had claws, so he carefully grasped either side of her head, tilted her face up until she couldn’t help but meet his gaze. The fear had receded and only the residual ghosts of the trauma she’d suffered remained. And she wasn’t afraid of him. He’d have seen it in her eyes, smelled it in her scent.
He could waste time being glad about it later.
More importantly, her eyes weren’t dilated and she wasn’t showing any alarming signs of physical harm. She’d suffered a bad scare, yes, but she hadn’t been irreparably damaged.
“You haven’t lost any blood as far as I can see or smell. You’re not likely to fall into shock.” Nor was she likely to turn into a zombie herself. A huge relief, that. When he’d finished killing the last of the zombies in the tunnel, he’d turned to see her colleague reaching for her. Thought he’d been too late. “Still, I’m going to take you someplace where I can care for you better. You might have other, less obvious injuries.”
She opened her mouth but no words came out. Finally, she nodded. Mute. Faint tremors began to take over her body, increasing until she was shaking hard enough for her teeth to chatter. Reaction was setting in. He needed to get her to Brian’s clinic quickly, where she could be cleaned up, warmed and made to feel safe. Get some food into her.
It was important. The need to take care of her gripped him hard and he didn’t want to waste time sorting out the why of it, only get it done.
He didn’t toss her back over his shoulder. This time, he gathered her up in his arms, cradled her against his chest. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
Her body was stiff against his. “Who are you?”
“My name is Danny. You saw me earlier today.” Bollocks. He shouldn’t remind her, not when his own alpha had denied them escort.
“Not the man I talked to, not the man who warned us. You don’t sound like him.” She placed a hand on his chest and leaned away from his as much as she could with him holding her, studying his face. “You were the Asian man, standing to one side.”
Why was he relieved she could tell the difference? Or maybe he was just glad she wasn’t blaming him and Seth for the deaths of her team. He definitely wasn’t preening over the
way she seemed to remember what he looked like in human form. Not at all.
“My ethnic background is East Asian, yeah.” He’d been in London for decades now, a part of the pack. Hadn’t thought of where he’d come from in a while. No particular reason. There’d been a lot to do lately, what with the apocalypse and all.
The pressure of her hand against his chest lessened and she seemed to settle against him. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, her face turned down. “Thank you for saving me, Danny.”
Warmth filled him.
“You’re welcome.” Aw, and didn’t he just sound like an ass? “Let me get you someplace safer.”
Her head bobbed once and then she leaned against his shoulder. “Deanna...my name...”
She trailed off and he stopped in his tracks. Carefully, he listened. Her breathing had slowed, steadied to the rhythm of someone asleep. Her heartbeat was there too, a touch accelerated, but that was to be expected with as much adrenaline running through her system as she must have. He’d get her hooked up to an ECG at Brian’s clinic to monitor for tachycardia. Poor lass probably just succumbed to exhaustion. Well, and he wasn’t going to have her safe and warm anytime soon if he didn’t start moving again.
Deanna. He’d known already, but she’d introduced herself to Seth and not to him directly. Somehow, it mattered she’d given him her name herself. It’d been a close thing tonight. And not yet over. Now he’d found her, his alpha might boot her clear out of the city.
As he walked, he was careful not to jostle her too much. He split his attention between watching for dangers and studying her, or what he could see of her, gathered against him as she was.
He shook his head. What were the chances this woman and her scientific team would break the biggest taboos the alpha of the London pack had?
Ah well, he’d pick that worry up later. She was safe. For the first time since he and Seth had left the group earlier, the wildness inside Danny settled.
Whoever this woman was, whatever else she was besides human, she mattered to him and now he had her.
* * *
“What have you got there, Danny?” Brian’s question might have been light, but the human motioned him toward one of the bigger examination rooms usually used for werewolves as opposed to the normal rooms closer to the front.
“A survivor.” Danny was loath to put her down, but neither he nor Brian could examine her properly if he was still holding her.
“Usually it’s Maisie brings in the strays.” Brian stepped over, but stopped when Danny growled. “Easy there. You want me to assist or just leave you to it?”
Danny struggled to get his temper under control. What was wrong with him? He’d never gotten this unhinged, not even when it’d been his pack members on the table. “Sorry, Brian. You’re a friend to the pack. No doubts there.”
Brian held his hands up, a faint smile playing over his lips. “No worries. I met Seth under similar circumstances. I recognize the signs. You think she’ll need fluids? I’ll just nip out to get an IV and solution while you examine her for further injuries. All right, then?”
Tension eased across his shoulders and he nodded. “Thanks.”
And what was he going on about with talk of signs?
“Oh, and Danny...” Brian paused in the doorway, waiting until he tore his eyes away from the woman. “You might want to shift back to human form to conduct the examination. Just a thought.”
Bollocks. He didn’t have to sound so damned entertained though. When’d been the last time Danny had forgotten what form he was in when working with a patient? Still, the man had a point. Deanna was a human with an even more delicate bone structure than many. Even though Danny had excellent control in phase-form, he’d be better able to see if she had any broken bones or sprained joints if he handled her with his human hands.
Familiar pain seared through Danny’s limbs as bones and muscle, teeth and claws reformed. Shifting to human form took him a minute or two. Longer than Seth, but faster than any other wolf in the London pack. Seth was older and the alpha, so there was no surprise there. But Danny had the best control over his various forms and the volatile nature all shape-shifters had. Some of it might have come from his being the pack medic. Danny had always believed the fundamental nature of any man remained, human or shape-shifter. He’d always been a healer at heart.
His trousers had remained intact throughout the shift from human to phase-form and back to human again. Good thing too. He wasn’t inclined to go back out to the front desk to find a spare pair of sweats. The woman needed looking over.
He ran his hands over her limbs gently, paying special attention to her wrists and ankles, her knees. It was only luck that none of the black, rotted blood liberally splattered over her clothes wasn’t anywhere near the breaks in her skin. Still, he’d best clean her up and get her a change of clothes.
“How’s she looking?” Brian waited for Danny to acknowledge him before stepping back inside the room, IV and saline bag in hand.
“No breaks or sprains as far as I can tell. Minor abrasions only.” Danny went to the small sink at the other end of the room and retrieved a few clean cloths and antiseptic wipes. “Chance of infection is low. The blighters attacking her and her team were all the slow, shuffling things. None of the faster, more dangerous ones.”
“We’ve seen fewer and fewer of those since Sorcha and Kayden rooted out the cause and took care of it. Sorcha has been lending us a hand tracking down any of the remaining fae charms used as lures, as well. She said it’s not within her talent to make the repelling charms but she’d see if any of the lesser fae returning to the city might have the capability. Never thought I’d live to meet a real fae, half-blood or otherwise. But it’s damned glad I am she came along and helped us.” Brian brought a small metal tray laden with supplies over to Danny. “Good thing too. Rate of infection from one of their bites was exponentially faster.”
“I don’t smell rot or gangrene in any of her scrapes.” Danny began to wipe down her hands, careful to remove any zombie blood without smearing it. “I’ll be sure once we get these soiled clothes off her and ‘there’re fewer scents to distract me.”
A pause. “Deanna might not appreciate you stripping her down while she’s unconscious.”
Danny froze. Ally to the pack or no, Brian might become a rival fairly quickly. “You do know her, then.”
It’d been Brian who’d asked for the pack’s help with this specific scientific team. Danny had figured Brian had known the lead scientist, but hadn’t anticipated Brian would know his woman.
“In passing.” The growl rumbling in Danny’s chest receded. Brian lifted a chin toward the prone woman. “She’s why I asked you and Seth to meet them at the quarantine border to offer escort. I’ve corresponded with her online regarding her research. Not many scientists bother to keep an updated profile picture available, but I recognised her from hers.”
Struggling with the odd twisting in his gut, Danny couldn’t decide whether to be defensive or relieved the acquaintance was so minor.
Brian chuckled. “I’ve been around you werewolves enough to know when to keep my distance though. My connection to her is purely academic.”
“Good.” Danny didn’t mind Brian’s amusement over the sudden possessive streak, so long as he wasn’t a rival. As males went, Brian was a safe one to have around Deanna. Human and medically trained. Besides, Brian’s quick thinking had saved Maisie once upon a time.
Finished with cleaning Deanna’s hands, Danny wet a fresh cloth with warm water and wrung it out before turning to clean her face. Beautiful, even liberally splattered and tear streaked. High cheek bones and a graceful jawline, plump lips. Hell, even her nose was perfect. Symmetrical and pert. More dark strands had escaped her ponytail and he gently brushed them to the side as he wiped away the evidence of what she’d been through, wishing
he could do the same for her memories. Encounter like that, losing her friends and colleagues, wouldn’t be easy to think on anytime soon.
Long lashes fluttered open and her dark chocolate eyes darted right and left before her gaze locked onto his. Every fiber of his being responded. His muscles tensed, his pulse quickened, and he was suddenly very glad he had trousers on.
She blinked once. Twice. “Danny.”
Chapter Three
Deanna struggled to swallow against the dryness of her throat.
“Thirsty?” The voice, like the face, was familiar. It conveyed safety in a way she didn’t know how to explain. “We can forgo the IV if you think you can sip water for a bit, then we’ll get you a proper cup of tea.”
It took her a few long moments to make sense of what he was saying. Then the virtual gears in her mind started to turn and she nodded. Yes, a drink would be fantastic. Maybe something stronger than water or tea.
The man, Danny, looked over his shoulder and nodded once, then returned his attention to her. His hair was dark, a perfect ink black. He wore it short and neatly trimmed around the sides but longer on top. And that top was a mess. Models probably paid big bucks to manage the sort of effortlessly mussed, yet hot, look he had going right now. But it was his eyes that caught her attention. Exotic, in a way. Slightly slanted, with just a hint of softness over the eyelid. Hard to pin down why, but those eyes drew her into every expression. His mouth too. So why was it the eyes?
An image flashed across her memory. Fur. A muzzle with gleaming white fangs. And those eyes...deep brown pools of darkness.
W-werewolf! Tom’s voice echoed inside her head.
“Why don’t we try having you sit up, slowly.” Danny slipped an arm under her shoulders and she clutched the other hand he held out to steady her as he moved her to a sitting position. “Feeling dizzy?”
Yes. But she took a few deep breaths and carefully shook her head. “No.”
“Right, then. I’ll stay close, just in case.” Give her another few minutes to come back to herself and she’d let him know just how bad he was at pretending to believe her.