Her breath expelled as a thin hiss between her clenched teeth. She needed a job. She hadn't worked in a month; not since her baby bump had finally become too obvious to hide any longer. The prim owner of the dance studio where Victoria had worked part-time as a ballet instructor had ever so kindly suggested that the physical demands of the job were simply too much for a pregnant woman to handle. Translation: the upper-class mothers of their students wouldn't abide an unwed mother near their precious daughters.
The other pregnant woman and her sobbing child were finally called and led away. Victoria heaved a deep sigh of relief.
She hadn't been too broken up about the loss of the low-paying job which had served as a placeholder while she was struggling to get back on her feet. Just a few months ago, her life had been in shambles. The war with the hunters left many members of the Storm Pack dead and the few survivors homeless. When she’d lived in Arizona, Victoria had worked as an emergency room RN in a Phoenix hospital. She was already in the middle of updating her credentials so she could obtain a license to work in California. The Sierra Pines Medical Facility had several nursing openings on their website for which she was qualified.
The door to the reception area swung open and a male voice summoned her—"Victoria Storm!"
She shot to her feet and crossed the room. The nurse who'd called her stood in the entrance. She'd been seeing Doctor Ellis for months but she didn't recognize him. He had to be new. He looked about her age, mid-twenties, and of average height and build. Freckles speckled his nose and cheeks. He wore medical scrubs, but underneath he had on a turtleneck; an odd choice for June attire. He held what she assumed to be her medical chart.
Magic tickled her nostrils—the sharp cleanness of pines. Victoria's stride hitched. She hesitated, almost stopping, but then forced herself to keep walking. Approaching the nurse, she proffered the clipboard.
His head bowed and he spared the half-complete form a brief glance. His lips compressed to a tight line. "Has anything changed, Victoria?"
"No." She inhaled, sampling his scent, and detected nothing out of the ordinary. He was human—except for that mystical evergreen shimmer.
"We don't need this then." He yanked the paper free of the clip, crumpled it, and then plopped it into a round file container with a one-handed toss. With that simple act, he gained her liking if not her complete trust.
"Hi, Emanuel Luce. Please feel free to call me Manny. Obviously, I'm new. This is my first week with Dr. Ellis." Tipping his chin, he offered a knowing smirk.
"Hi, Manny. It's a pleasure to meet you." Victoria smiled in return.
"Dr. Ellis just called in that he's going to be late—"
"Did he get caught in a sand trap?"
"Quite possibly." His gaze glanced over her. His interest was detached and clinical. "I'm a registered nurse. I'm qualified to conduct your checkup. Are you okay with that?"
"Sure, it's fine." She nodded.
"Great. Come this way." Manny escorted Victoria to the scale, and she endured the humiliating weigh-in with stoic forbearance. Head bent over her chart, he led the way to the exam room. She trailed him, duly impressed with his ability to walk and read at the same time.
"You've only gained eleven pounds since your first visit with us back in March. This is the middle of your second trimester." Manny hooked the edge with his foot and bumped the door with his butt. She noticed how he left it open a few inches.
Ah, how it must suck to be a male nurse in this litigious culture.
"I'm almost six months along."
The added privacy afforded her the opportunity to look him over again more closely. At a glance, everything about him appeared unremarkable except for little things such as the collapsed Mohawk worn in a ponytail. Empty piercing holes punctured the cartilage of his ears. The edge of a tattoo collar on his throat peaked out from his turtleneck. She suspected he probably had matching bracelets inked on his wrists.
Victoria closed her eyes and then opened them, focusing her attention on the spiritual world. When she took a closer look at Manny Luce, she perceived his innate magic—a palette of tranquil sea tones from aqua to cool blue streaked his aura. Here and there bright yellow starbursts sparkled with gemstone intensity.
"You're not gaining enough weight. You need to eat more." Still looking down, he wrote something in her chart. "Let's get your blood pressure."
"I eat like a wolf." She chuckled and hopped onto the examine table, seated close to the wall-mounted blood pressure monitor.
"So, Vicky. Can I call you Vicky?" He reached for the armband attached to the device and pulled it down, shaking out the curly cord.
"Vicky. Sure, if you're feeling lucky. We are in a hospital so it's a short walk to the ER."
"Oohh, touchy. Victoria, then." Chuckling, he looked up straight into her eyes. His mouth dropped open and then he jerked away from her with a fearful start. His invigorating scent acquired a moldy, rotted wood tang. Without a mirror, she couldn't be sure but his reaction suggested her eyes had gone wolf-wonky again.
"Shit." Slightly panicked, Victoria double-and-triple-blinked in an attempt to return her eyeballs to normal. Losing control in front of Sawyer was one thing. The hunter was a member of her pack and had witnessed her shift shapes to a wolf many times. She trusted him with her secrets.
A stranger like Manny Luce, however mystically inclined, was another matter. He constituted an unknown...and hence, a threat to both her and her pack.
A startled cry arose from Manny. Stumbling over his own feet, he backed toward the closed door. Victoria hopped off the exam table. She sprinted and ducked around the nurse, reaching the exit first, and put her back to it.
"You're a werewolf." Manny spun to face her. Upon realizing his escape was cut off, he retreated toward the exam table. His fixed stare locked on Victoria. Once his back hit the wall, he assumed a defensive stance that suggested he'd had martial arts training. More alarmingly, the air crackled, pregnant with magic as he summoned power.
Victoria quelled her own reflex to respond in kind. She didn't want this to escalate and turn into a mystical showdown. So far, Manny hadn't succumbed to yelling. She took that as a good sign. Maybe he could be reasoned with.
"Look, I don't want trouble. I'm here for my checkup. That's it. Dr. Ellis is the only obstetrician in a twenty-mile radius who will see me without insurance. I really don't want to have to switch doctors." Victoria held up her hands, a calming gesture.
"You're an actual, real-life, fucking werewolf." Manny stared at Victoria as though seeing her for the first time. He gave her the thorough up-down, obviously trying to figure her out. His regard held zero sexual interest, confirming Victoria's earlier suspicions. Not every man wanted her, but the vast majority of healthy, heterosexual males found her attractive. Pheromones never lied.
"Right." She took a deep breath, rolled her eyes, and summoned patience. "I'm a werewolf, and you're a witch. Look, I know werewolves and witches don't always mix—"
"Druid."
She raised her brow. "Pardon?"
"I'm a druid."
"Tree-hugger or the bloodthirsty kind?"
He stared at her from beneath hooded eyes. Okay then—bloodthirsty druid.
"Even better." Victoria reached for her own magic but only used it to boost her own innate charisma. Her voice acquired resonance—soft and soothing.
"Why is that better?" That pleasant pine-fresh scent restored. He cocked his head and loosened his stance, curiosity edging out caution.
"Environmentalists get wiggy about wolves. This is already awkward enough as is it." Victoria judged he had calmed down enough not to bolt, so she eased aside, clearing the path to the door once again.
The room was small. They engaged in a cautious, shifting ballet and circled clockwise. In the end, she wound up back on the exam table where she belonged. Manny remained silent while he took her blood pressure and added another note to her chart. Figuring he needed time to adjust, she waited.
He returned the blood pressure monitor to the wall. "I'd heard there was a pack of gray wolves in the area..." He scratched his chin. "Is that you?"
"They're part of my pack. I'm the dominant female."
He frowned. "What is that? You're the pack domme?"
"I'm not a domme." She frowned. "I'm dominant. There's a difference."
"Right. Not a domme at all." Manny's drawl implied otherwise.
He didn't know the language of wolves—she rephrased it. "I'm Alpha."
"It's okay. I'm in the lifestyle. Nothing I love more than watching a skilled domme at work." Manny dropped a wink. The smile that lit his face elevated his looks from average to cute. A natural flirt.
"Are all druids such hams?" Victoria looked askance at him.
"Dunno, are all werewolves so damn serious?"
She sighed. He had a point. Severity was one of her great character flaws. Lightning up would probably be for the best. The druid had proven remarkably resilient—transitioning from cautious to curious in a matter of minutes. He had not only taken her being a werewolf in stride but also tried to ease the tension with his quick, albeit, corny humor.
"Are you doing an ultrasound today?" Victoria indicated the machine.
"I can. Are you comfortable with that?"
"Yes."
A knock sounded on the closed door to the exam room. In unison, they turned toward the entrance, and a second knock followed. Manny answered it, pulling the door open halfway to reveal the brunette receptionist. Laverne frowned and fidgeted, biting her lower lip.
"What's up?" Manny asked.
"The Sheriff is here—asking for Miss Storm." The receptionist aimed a condemning glare toward Victoria. In her mind, the law officer had no doubt come to arrest their petite blonde patient.
Manny's quizzical gaze settled on Victoria.
She smiled in reassurance. "It's okay. He's a relative of mine."
"Ah, okay." His aura buzzed with curiosity, and doubt marred his scent. Regrettably, his ease of moments before was gone.
Victoria departed the exam room and passed through the office area. Manny and the brunette trailed her, making no attempt to conceal their rubbernecking curiosity. Before she reached the reception area, the door swung open to reveal a man wearing an El Dorado County sheriff's uniform and badge.
Sheriff Mike Trash, the brother of Arik's murdered first wife. In his late-forties to early fifties, he had a rectangular face, ears that stuck out a bit, and a receding hairline. Victoria considered his piercing, intelligent brown eyes to be his best feature. Not quite handsome, but cute. He stood a handful of inches taller than her and was in good shape. His solid aura embodied stability and strength. Though human, he was a medium capable of perceiving spirits. His awareness of the supernatural and his law enforcement position made him a powerful and influential person.
"Mike." She greeted him with an uncertain frown, wondering what he wanted. While he wasn't the last person she expected to seek her out at a doctor's appointment, he didn't make the short list. Maybe she needed to revise that list.
"Victoria, I'm sorry for disturbing you." Mike crossed his arms, radiating tension.
"It's okay. What's up?" With an effort, she schooled her expression to a polite smile. Brow arched, she looked to the sheriff, more than happy to let him make the call on how to proceed. Doubtless, Mike didn't want to divulge his secrets in front of strangers, especially if it involved police business.
"Damn!" Manny expressed shock and amazement at a shout. His pheromones spiked, signaling spontaneous arousal. Victoria and Mike both turned toward the young man but he remained oblivious to their curious regard. Instead, his stunned gaze was directed past the sheriff and out the open entryway. Following his initial outburst, he dropped his voice. "Hot damn."
Craning her neck, Victoria spotted Logan lurking in the waiting area. He slouched against the opposite wall, close enough to overhear everything they said. Just the sight of him set her blood to boiling. Her ire rose; a snarl contorted her mouth and trembled in her throat.
"It's urgent. I would appreciate your help." The sheriff cleared his throat, edging closer. He extended his arm, creating a barrier between her and his nephew, but didn't touch her. Good thing too because her emotions were out of control to the point where she was reacting instead of acting.
"Sure, I'd be happy to help if I can. What's it about?" Taking a deep breath, she reined in her temper.
The sheriff cast a significant glance toward their audience. Fortunately, Manny picked up on the subtle hint. Catching Mike's gaze, Victoria turned toward the humans.
"Laverne, get back to work." Manny turned a stern glare on the receptionist who flushed and retreated to her station.
"Thank you," Victoria said.
"No problem. I'd love to wait in the lobby." Manny ducked his head and stepped toward her. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Is the hottie straight?"
"He claims to be straight..." A mean smile played on her lips. "But you know, I've wondered that myself. Mostly, I think Logan is just horny. And slutty."
"I can work with that." With a spring in his step, Manny headed into the reception area. Oozing confidence, he strolled up to Logan, looked him straight in the eyes, and said, "You're so beautiful that you made me forget my pickup line."
Logan's jaw dropped and his mouth hung open. Victoria wasn't sure she'd ever seen the smart-mouthed jackass at a total loss for words.
It was a beautiful thing.
A shout escaped Logan, alarmingly loud, and easily mistaken for anger. Then, howling with laughter, he collapsed against the wall. Manny succumbed to chuckles also. Amid the din, Logan said something short and pointed to Manny but his words were lost.
Victoria glanced back to the sheriff, and found him watching her. "What can I do for you, Mike?"
The sheriff cleared his throat. Frustration and foreboding wafted off him, so thick his scent blended with his aura like wet paint. His hand rose, beckoning to her. "It's complicated... I need to show you."
"Is it urgent? I'm right in the middle of a prenatal checkup." Reluctance led her to dig in her mental heels.
A sharp shake of Mike's head vetoed the suggestion. He leaned toward her and spoke in a low voice. "I'm sorry, this is urgent. There are bodies. I want you to accompany me down to the morgue."
"Bodies?"
The sheriff gave a curt nod.
Dry-mouthed, Victoria gulped. Bodies probably meant spirits... Spirits were her calling. "All right then. That settles that."
Victoria marched into the hallway to where Manny and Logan were engaged in witty, flirty banter. The sheriff trailed her, but remained silent. The two men stopped talking and looked toward her.
She tensed when Logan's hooded amber eyes settled on her. His gaze dropped and lingered on her all-too-visible baby bump, but his face remained set in an impassive mask. His aura was equally inscrutable, closed off and awash with dark, swirling colors. Victoria pointedly gave him the cold shoulder.
Following an uncomfortable pause, Manny asked, "What's up?"
"I'm sorry, but I need to cut the appointment short. It's an emergency," she said, mustering a smile.
Manny frowned. His confused gaze darted from face to face.
Common decency compelled Victoria to offer at least a cursory explanation. "The sheriff needs my help in the basement."
"I see..." Eyebrows skewed, Manny stared at her. "Isn't the only thing in the basement the morgue?"
Both Mike and Logan tensed and shuffled their stances. Deciding to trust her gut, Victoria waved them off. "I'm sort of an expert in spirits. I'm a medium."
"You're a seer? Like a psychic?" Quizzically, Manny cocked his head. She could see the young man's thoughts on his face while he sorted it out in his head. And while she had no idea what a druid could do, she suspected their basic abilities might not be too divergent.
"I'm a priestess," she corrected. "To Freya..."
And sometimes Odin, Freya said i
n a catty little aside only Victoria could hear, but that caused her to wince anyway.
"Okay, cool. Good luck."
"Thanks." She hesitated and crossed mental fingers. She desperately hoped she wasn't going to have to find a new obstetrician. "Can I call back to reschedule my ultrasound?"
He smiled, warm and welcoming. "Absolutely."
"See you." She headed out, expecting Logan and Mike to follow her. And indeed, they did.
"Damn, gorgeous. I'm just going to stand here and watch your fine ass walk away," Manny called out after them.
"Yeah, you do that," Logan shot back, waving his arm. "You're not going to see any finer."
Ducking her head, Victoria hid her grin behind her hand.
"This way." Mike took the lead through dungeon-esque passages of the basement that stank of dust and mold. The dimly lit corridors seemed to stretch forever. They met in irregular intersections, and took inexplicable turns. An extraordinary number of ghostly whorls wisped past. Victoria always expected to encounter spirits in a hospital, but this was more like a cemetery. Disturbingly, the wandering souls looked like they'd died centuries before, which left her wondering who they'd been and how they'd died.
After what must've been five minutes of walking, she became convinced they were going in circles. She was confident she could follow her nose to backtrack their path, but otherwise she'd have been hopelessly lost.
Logan voiced her thoughts. "This place is a fucking labyrinth."
"It smells like standing water." Her nose crinkled in involuntary disgust. When they'd first entered the basement, the air had been damp and musky, but now the aroma of pungent rot offended her well-being. Queasiness swam in her gut like goldfish in a bowl.
"The foundation is old," Mike said, leading the way. "The hospital was built on top of a much older structure. Water seeps in. When it gets bad, they bring in sump pumps. If you stay out of the east end, you'll be fine." The sheriff's posture radiated unmistakable tension.
Wolf's Cross: Book 4 (Loki's Wolves) Page 17