Highlander's Desire: Winter Solestice (Against All Odds Series 2)

by Veronica Wilson

  “Zero survivors!” one of the doctors responded, more annoyed than saddened.

  “They were torn up in such a way that saving them was absolutely impossible, yet the thing didn’t finish them off. Instead, they’ve been left to die in pain!” another one added. “The agony they must have endured before death; I can’t even imagine it!”

  But… why would an animal do something like that? Still surprised by the healthy patient near her, Claudia found herself staring blankly into space while the doctors’ words sank in. Suddenly, some of the crazier ideas from earlier didn’t seem all that impossible.

  “That… that’s the same thing that happened the last time,” Doc Addams responded thoughtfully. “I assume that you all know just how likely that is with animal attacks, right? Twice in a row, especially.”

  “Somewhere between nothing and zero,” a female doctor responded, deadpan.

  “Exactly, my dear colleague,” Doc Addams answered as he moved around the room. “But how would you rate our odds of finding a survivor among these people?” He paused for a moment, timing his interruption to just when the other doctor was about to speak. He allowed a thin little smile to grace the edges of his lips. “Because I’ve got one here, and he is as healthy as you or me.” “Well, maybe not as me,” he finished, now smiling a bit more overtly.

  At first, his colleagues merely stared at the Doc and the man who lay on the gurney behind him in disbelief. Then, having noticed the slow movements of the patient’s chest, all three of them rushed toward the table. Caught up in their professional and personal curiosities, they almost pushed the older doctor to the side.

  The following night

  I couldn’t sleep a wink.

  Thoughts raced through Claudia’s head as she stuffed her ample backside into the tight white skirt of her nurse’s uniform. Who the hell was that man last night? She zipped the skirt up hurriedly, eager to get on to the next part. Why in the world was that man unharmed? With careful movements (so as not to rip it) she put her hands through the sleeves of her white blouse. They said that he woke up. She zipped the top completely, barely managing to get it to cover her spilling cleavage. But they also say that he can’t remember anything. Finally, she took her white hat and perched it on her head, completing the outfit. As she made her way out of the dressing room, Claudia took a moment to observe herself in the mirror.

  Not bad at all. She commented on the display she made. Her curvy, voluptuous figure had been shaped by the tight clothes into something straight out of a fetish magazine. Her overwhelmingly large chest and hips practically competed for attention, but what really stole the show was her face. Normally very pretty in an unassuming way, with the assistance of a thin layer of make-up expertly applied, her visage became simply astonishing. All it took was a light amount of eye-shadow and a bit of red lipstick, and she became a shining image of exaggerated femininity.

  Let’s see if this will refresh his memory, she thought as she exited the room, looking forward to her impending talk with the handsome new patient.

  As she walked down the corridor, it was apparent that everyone noticed her appearance. Heads turned and people stared as she made her way toward the room that she’d been told contained the blond man. They said they’ve identified him as Dillon Myers, a small business owner. Hardly a dangerous profession. The only trait he shared with the other, deceased men was a well-honed physique. Beyond that, the similarities ended.

  “Excuse me, madam, but I think you’ve got the wrong room.” Lost within her own internal monologue, Claudia almost failed to notice the pair of policemen who stood watch on each side of the door until she was right on top of them. “I heard they throw wicked parties on the floor above, though. You should give it a shot there, I think,” the guard finished, all while eyeing Claudia’s body from head to toe. The other one said nothing, although he stared just as much, if not more.

  Why are guards in front of—? Ah, I get it, he’s probably a suspect! Despite the ridiculousness of the idea (given Dillon’s lack of teeth and claws capable of tearing all those men apart), Claudia knew better than to antagonize the policemen while they did their duty. As far as I know, they may well consider the idea as ridiculous as I do.

  “I am here to check out the patient,” she replied, showing them her best smile.

  “Hasn’t he already been checked out?” The policeman responded, gazing at everything other than her lips. “A Doctor Grayson came by about half an hour ago, said everything was in perfect order.”

  “Yes. Yes, he was. This one is personal, you see. As a matter of fact, I was the nurse who found him last night, and it would really mean a lot to me if you would just let me see him.”

  The cops exchanged looks, then turned back toward her, clearly expecting her to say something more.

  “They were all dead, you see,” Claudia continued, now having chosen the card she would play. “Every single victim of the animal attacks had died. Except him. With that and the ever-increasing influx of new patients, hospital morale is low. My morale is low. Seeing a survivor would really help, you know?” She finished her story with a wink, standing in such a way that it appeared as if it was dedicated to both of them.

  “Well, now,” the guard said, smiling. “I don’t see a reason why we should deny a pretty girl like you a little dose of morale.” The other man didn’t speak, but smiled anyway. “Go in, pretty lady. Just make sure to be careful, just in case he actually did do it.” The guard couldn’t help but laugh as he spoke.

  And they say that policemen are stupid.

  Pleased that her plan had worked, Claudia passed by the cops and opened the door slowly, as if she were unpacking a present. Then, in a single mincing motion, she stepped in and shut the door behind her, mentally preparing for another glimpse of the Adonis she’d seen last night.

  The room was small, as were they all in this part of the hospital. Near the wall opposite the door was a single bed, and in it lay Dillon. Elbows outstretched, palms resting behind his head, he was covered only from the waist down. His chest and stomach were bare, representing a vision of masculine beauty. Now that he had been cleaned up, the golden shade of his hair was clearly visible, and it dropped down to the base of his neck, accentuating his regally elongated face. His crystal blue eyes had already been open when she came in, and her arrival was greeted with the raising of an eyebrow and a slight grin at the sides of his mouth.

  “Well, well, look at the angel that just flew in,” he commented in a voice that sounded like a subdued roar.

  “You don’t look too bad yourself, Mr. Myers,” Claudia retorted as she neared the bed, her every move causing her assets to jiggle. Slowly, she grabbed a small chair and put it next to the bed. It was reinforced, or else it would have been risky for her to use. Which doesn’t make it any more comfortable, she thought as she sat down.

  “You look especially good, considering the shape of all those people you were found with,” she said, pressing her point before Dillon had the chance to respond. “Mind telling me what your secret might be?”

  “I’d like to say ‘eating well and lots of exercise,’ but then that would be lying.” He grinned as he spoke, his head still resting back on his hands. “Truth is, not everyone can be me, which is a good thing, right? After all, too much of a high quality good tends to devalue it, don’t you think?”

  Now that’s just pushing it. I mean he’s hot, but damn!

  “So you’re telling me that you’ve survived the massacre by… being way too high quality to be grievously injured? And you also have no idea what happened out there, right?” While in the middle of her sentence Claudia realized that she’d forgotten to smile, so she rectified her mistake immediately. I just hope I don’t come off as too hostile.

  “That explanation, however unlikely, would make as much sense as anything else I can give you at the moment. As I’ve told the detective just a little while ago, I was at my office, doing some late-night work, when—“

  “Th
at’s where the men were found, right? In your office, stacked around you and dying horribly, all mangled beyond repair? Please correct me if I’m wrong.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told, anyway. I… I’m afraid I can’t help you, erm, what did you say your name was?” His expression changed from contemplative to inquisitive within a split second.

  “I didn’t, handsome. I am Claudia Chase. In case it’s not obvious, I’m a nurse here. I’m the one who found out you were still alive last night.”

  “So it was you whose hand I felt through the fog, feeling around my six-pack?” Dillon appeared genuinely interested now. “It was the only thing I remember from the time I spent unconscious, and let me tell you, you have an extraordinary touch, Claudia.”

  “Th-thank you,” she forced herself to reply, well aware of the heat that expanded through her cheeks. At the same time, down between her legs, an entirely different sort of heat started expanding.

  “I’d like to feel it again someday,” he continued, obviously intrigued by her reaction to his compliment.

  Yeah, I’d like you to feel it right now, hotness. But the guards and the rest of the staff are so, so close…

  “I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement, Dillon,” Claudia responded after a couple of seconds of silence, having just barely managed to pull herself out of her own private world. “Right now, however, something like that would be difficult, with the policemen outside your door and whatnot.”

  Please don’t take this the wrong way. I am very, very interested in everything you have to offer.

  “Yeah, about that… is there a chance for me to slip away from this place? You know, somehow circumvent the police and just be allowed to go home? I don’t feel sick at all, and I could really use my own bed.”

  “Hmmmm… and why would you want to do that?” Again, her expression changed, but this time she didn’t try to put her smile back on. Then she realized something. He knows far more than he’s letting on. Out of nowhere, her hands started shivering. Her thinly plucked brows furrowed as she stared into those blue eyes. What if he really is the killer of all those men? But how did he do it, then? Did he train a deadly animal, perhaps? I just know that he is hiding something! She observed him carefully, now ready to run at the faintest sudden movement of his.

  “If you saw my bed up close and personal, you’d know exactly what I mean, Claudia,” he finally said, adding some additional oomph to that statement by the presentation of that dazzling set of teeth he liked to show.

  Even though she knew that something was wrong, Claudia realized that she was still not immune to this man’s charm. At the mere thought of being invited into his bedroom, she felt the moisture trickle down her leg, easily escaping the prison of her panties.

  “I…” She didn’t know what to say. Her better judgment was being obscured by the desires of her body. She might even have said yes, had Dillon’s expression not changed in that second.

  “Back off toward the door, and stand in a corner,” he said all of a sudden, his face an expressionless mask. “Whatever happens, don’t interfere.”

  What the hell is he talking about?

  A couple of muffled sounds could be heard from the other side of the door, followed by two dull thuds. Not having any idea what was going on, Claudia did what Dillon said—not out of trust, but more out of sheer survival instinct.

  With a sudden great force, the door caved in to the sounds of screaming and running from the corridor. Within less than a second, a total of four people were inside. They were all men, tall and well built, a fact that was evident even though they wore long coats. Every single intruder held a silenced pistol, holding it firmly and aiming at Dillon’s forehead.

  “You guys really don’t let up, do you? Can’t a man rest in peace?” he growled out, his voice possessed of an almost animalistic quality.

  “A man can indeed rest, monster,” said the smallest member of the group, a clean-shaven dark man of some six feet. “But we all know that you’re not one now, are you?”

  Instead of responding, Dillon started twitching. His body, extremely ripped to begin with, now appeared even more muscled than before. Just as Claudia noticed this, the first shot hit him in the neck.

  Mercilessly, the men proceeded to unload their clips into the developing bloody mess that used to be Dillon’s body. Claudia’s legs went numb, and she had difficulty accepting that the sight before her eyes was actually real.

  They’re killing him! she screamed inside, unable to find her voice. He was a patient at her hospital, and these, these men just flat out came in and started shooting him. Her fist clenched, as of its own mind. She felt the painted nails bite into her skin. She took a step backward. They are obviously here for him for a reason. They won’t touch me. Then, she ran forward.

  Just like dispersing a crowd full of sick people, she told herself.

  The impact was painful, but she knew that the others felt much worse than she did. Luckily, they’d all stopped firing when she was a foot or so away, otherwise who knows what might have happened to her. The man in the middle took the brunt of it, hitting his head on the side of the door with a horrible crunching sound. The others merely fell around her like dominoes, shoved through the door to the outside of poor Dillon’s room.

  Having fallen to the floor in the doorway, Claudia noticed something very strange about it: it was warm. Warm and wet.

  Oh, no.

  The bodies of the two policemen that had let her in lay around the door, their eyes dead and wide, while blood still trickled out of their head wounds. Three of the mysterious armed men were back on their feet within seconds, while the one who hit his head didn’t move any more.

  “Bitch!” the shortest of them exclaimed, reaching down to hit Claudia on the head with the handle of his weapon, causing the world to spin and her vision to blur. “Do you have any idea what’s ha—?“

  What followed was little more than a blur of motion. Faster than Claudia had ever thought possible, something leapt from the room behind her. With predatory precision, it buried its teeth right into the man’s throat, ripping it up effortlessly using only its momentum. Now in panic, the other two men tried shooting it, but the thing was simply too fast for their shaking hands. Within less than a second, another one of them was down.

  It was then that Claudia managed to take a good look at the animal, and it was majestic. Although smeared with blood, the bright, almost gold-colored lion seemed unreal.

  Its fur is the same shade as Dillon’s hair.

  Her head spinning, she turned her head back toward Dillon’s room. Aside from the blood, the bed was empty.

  That lion, is that… that just isn’t possible!

  The remaining man apparently chose not to put up a fight. Instead, he dropped his weapon, turned around and started running down the now-empty hallway.

  But the beast didn’t show any mercy. In full force, it pounced on the man’s back, downing him with little effort. Without a hint of hesitation, the lion bit into the back of his neck and quickly tilted its head to the side, killing him on the spot.

  Triumphantly, the beast raised its head before unleashing a mighty, unbridled roar. It would have lasted quite a while, too, had the body underneath the lion not exploded in the most horrible way imaginable.

  What the— Claudia tried to think, but her instincts caused her to grab the back of her head and lie down on the floor. By the time she raised her head there were bits and pieces everywhere, and most of the hallway was colored an inconsistent crimson.

  She rose to her feet as quickly as her large body allowed, and immediately ran toward the smoldering heap that was ground zero. The lion was nowhere in sight. However, the badly injured body of Dillon lay curled near the right wall. His hands and feet were missing, and the wounds bled so badly that death seemed imminent.

  Usually composed enough in these situations, Claudia found that she couldn’t articulate a single thought. Instead, she merely fell to her knees i
n front of him and covered her eyes with the palms of her own hands. They were wet soon after. The room was spinning, even though she didn’t look. She lost track of time.

  Who knows how much time later, the sound of Doc Addams’ voice stirred her from that state. “Would you look at that!”

  Afraid to open her eyes, Claudia forced herself to do it regardless. When she did, whatever she was about to say got stuck in her throat.

  Before her lay Dillon, unconscious, but with all of his limbs completely undamaged.

  Five hours later

  Time to finally go through with it.

  Taking a deep breath, Claudia grabbed the door’s handle. Without hesitation, she turned it and passed through, trying not to hit the doorway with the bag that she wore on her back.

  On the other side was a hospital room, albeit of a very different type than the ones reserved for more normal patients. This one had reinforced walls as well as bulletproof glass; everything they’d need to contain a violent or otherwise dangerous patient.

  In its center sat Dillon, cleaned up and nude. He had been provided with a hospital gown to wear, but he chose not to don it. Seeing him like this was pleasant without a doubt, but nevertheless did something she did not enjoy: it clouded her judgment.

  “Came to see me, Clarice?” He opened the conversation in the creepiest voice he could manage. Somehow it didn’t make him repulsive.

  “As a matter of fact, I did.” Claudia responded in the most formal way she could manage. “So, are you going to tell me what’s happened today, or are you going to lie to me? I’d be careful about my answer if I were you, though. Your fate now lies in the responsible hands of Doc Addams, a dear friend of mine.” Unceremoniously, she let the bag drop to the floor.

  Dillon didn’t smile anymore. With feline grace, he rose to his feet, standing in his spot with all the splendor of an antique statue. “Are there cameras in here?” he asked, apparently more out of curiosity than fear.