Blood Trails

by Alianne Donnelly

  Hailey closed her mouth and gave him her back again. Light spilled over her bed just beyond the damn security door. So close and completely out of reach.

  Hang on a minute…

  “I’m waiting,” Jeremy said.

  “Give me one minute,” she replied, already looking up. What was it, ten, fifteen feet? She’d cleared more before. Except she’d had two good hands. Still…

  “Hailey?”

  One step back. One more. She needed to see where she was going.

  “Hailey, what are you…”

  Hailey bent her knees and launched herself at the roof. She caught the edge with one hand, had a pretty firm grip on it, too. Concentrating on her feet she changed her toenails into claws and dug them into the wall for support. It was awkward and it hurt, but she wasn’t falling yet. Jeremy was cursing below her; it sounded as if he’d come closer to catch her in case she fell. She didn’t intend to.

  Digging in her claws above and below she hauled herself one-armed onto the roof. Good thing, too. Her pants had started to slip again.

  “Hailey?” Jeremy called from the street. “Hailey!”

  She ignored him and got up to try the sky light. It wasn’t supposed to open but Hailey had just enough strength in her good arm to break through. She’d be landing on broken glass but it wasn’t like she had a choice. One, two, three. She jumped down.

  Five minutes later she opened the security door on a furious-looking Jeremy and thrust his clothes back at him. She was wearing a beach dress after having dropped the shirt and sweatpants. Good thing he was so much bigger than her otherwise she never would have gotten out of them without help.

  His gaze raked over her, stalling on her breasts—she couldn’t put on a bra and she was pretty sure her nipples showed through the fabric—and then on the region of her hips—well, yeah, she wasn’t prematurely white everywhere.

  Hailey cleared her throat pointedly, still holding his clothes. Her arm was getting tired of it.

  He looked up at her face, then beyond it to something behind her. He uttered some kind of oath as he brushed past her into her den, staring at her walls and white boards. Hailey tried to see it the way he probably would—like a crazy person’s asylum cell. But to her this room was the sum total of her work so far. Every single letter and symbol was invaluable to her. It almost spelled her survival. Almost.

  Jeremy touched her formulas on the wall. She didn’t even do that, afraid she’d smudge the symbols. “Are you a biochemistry enthusiast?” she asked to distract him away from there.

  “To be honest, I have no idea what any of this says,” he replied. He didn’t touch anything else. “Are you close to finding a cure?”

  “Yes,” she lied.

  He gave her an annoyed truth please look.

  Hailey rolled her eyes. She’d never met a telepath before but she hadn’t been enthusiastic about the idea of one when she’d read about them in Amelia’s notes. Now she knew that she didn’t like them. It was doubly unnerving because not only could he read her thoughts—or see them, or something—he could insert himself into her mind, make her see things.

  Like last night.

  What was worse, she had no idea when he was doing it. Her dream had felt so surreal she’d never noticed anything amiss. Yet at the same time it had been the most tactile dream she’d ever had.

  But then, after months of only herself for company and … other things, that didn’t really surprise her.

  Hailey wasn’t the bashful type and she didn’t embarrass easily. Hell, he’d given her material enough to fantasize about for months while she … kept her own company. But to have her mind laid out like an open book for him to read whenever he pleased, that bothered her.

  By the look on his face, he was doing it now. Just great.

  Back to the real world.

  “I could be one equal sign away,” she said in answer to his question. “Or I could be leagues and miles in the wrong direction.”

  “The chemicals you need change as soon as you take them out of the container. You can’t predict how they will react to air, let alone each other, and you can’t move forward without testing them properly.”

  Hailey’s hackles stood on end, making her itch all over. Bad enough she was still reacting to him as if he was the man from her dream—which he was?—but he was completely unaffected. Well … not completely. But he was completely in denial and rooting through her mind to things he has no business touching. “If you already know the answers, why are you wasting my time asking questions?”

  “You’re afraid you’re going to hurt someone. You have no control over the animal’s psyche and once it’s out, you have no way of even monitoring it.”

  “And again, with the time wasting.” Hailey began gathering her things to keep herself busy. As long as she kept her left arm down by her waist, she managed fine. She’d stayed here longer than any other place before. It was time to relocate.

  “You’re stubborn, emotional, impulsive, and reckless.”

  The dress she was folding ripped in two in her hands. “Your point?” she growled through fangs that were suddenly too big to fit into her mouth.

  “My point is that you can’t do this alone.” When Jeremy approached her she nearly snarled. He took the ruined dress out of her hands and set it aside. “You don’t have to like any of this. I wouldn’t in your position. But sometimes we don’t have the luxury of getting what we want.”

  “But we can get what we need, is that it?” Now that she’d managed to shrink her fangs to a manageable size there was nothing to disguise the bitterness in her voice. “Was that what last night was?”

  He reared back. But he didn’t deny it. And she knew he knew exactly what she was referring to. So it had been him after all.

  “I’m curious. Whose needs were you seeing to then? Mine or yours?”

  “That was … ah … unconscious.”

  Yeah, she’d just bet. But she let that go for now. “What do you want to bet that the moment I step foot in the same room as Amelia I won’t be a human being anymore? What would you wager that she’ll have a tranq dart all ready for me before I even walk in the door?”

  “She is your sister. She wouldn’t do that.”

  “Yes, my sister. Objective scientist through and through.”

  His eyes narrowed and Hailey just knew he was reading her mind so she deliberately thought of all those times when Amelia had shut down her heart. The times Hailey had watched her cut into corpses to study the effects of some experimental drug, an emotionless automaton, brows drawn in concentration, distracted voice dictating cold, hard facts. She showed him the Amelia her sister became when no one was watching, all compassion set aside in deference to science. Emotion clouded judgment and her research, whatever it happened to be at the time, required complete objectivity.

  Hailey showed Jeremy what he wanted her to do and how it would all end: with her in the lab, in a cage, strapped to a gurney, needles jabbed into her veins, seemingly docile, but screaming inside her head.

  Jeremy sucked in a breath, backed away from her. “Stop,” he said on a harsh breath, clutching his temples and squeezing his eyes shut. He’d paled, and now looked physically ill.

  “Real world too harsh for you, Jer?” she said coldly. “Sucks when your rose-colored glasses don’t fit anymore, doesn’t it? Can’t stomach the possibilities? There are so many to choose from.” She showed him her worst fear. The absolute worst-case scenario: Hailey in a pool of her own blood, gasping her final breath. Body broken, unrecognizable. Not human but not animal either. Limbs contorted, bruised skin visible through a thin layer of pure white fur. Hailey dying – not because she’d failed to cure herself, but because someone somewhere decided to sacrifice her for the good of posterity. An acceptable cost; one life to further science and medicine by leaps and bounds.

  Jeremy made a visible effort to get himself under control. Hailey figured he must have made a hasty retreat out of her head because when he met he
r gaze again his blue-black eyes were flat, unaffected by the thoughts that made her want to run out the door and leave her life in the dust. “I prefer to think better of people,” he said. “Until they prove me wrong.”

  “Optimism is a dangerous affliction of the mind.”

  “Pessimism is a lonely one.”

  Another flashback took her back to her dream. Not to the sex, but the rest of it. That faceless darkness that still somehow had a shape, a presence. It had been everywhere, around her, inside her, restraining her.

  She should have felt caged, trapped.

  Instead she’d been…relieved. It had felt safe to be cocooned in that strength, as if it—he—could protect her from herself. She’d wanted him to hold on to her.

  Now it all felt like one giant manipulative scheme. And damn if that didn’t sting. “Oh, that’s a good one, Jer. Hit me where you think it hurts, appeal to my emotional female nature. Nice. Very nice.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, his patience clearly fraying but he would keep at it. Persistent bastard. “What are you more afraid of, Hailey? Finding out that your sister doesn’t care, or finding out that she does?”

  “Why would I be afraid of someone caring for me?”

  She ought to be tossing him out on his ass, not indulging him with a round of verbal sparring. But Hailey was a social creature by nature. She loved people and company and having a good time. And for the last few months she hadn’t had any of that. Hailey was starved for conversation and apparently it didn’t matter who with, or why.

  It was also completely unfair that the male was so gorgeous. If he wasn’t Hailey would have no trouble at all telling him off and heading out the door. Eventually. But the sight of him like this, territorial male standing his ground, challenging her … it did something to her and against her better judgment, she didn’t want to leave.

  Hailey had good instincts about people. She could tell that Jeremy Calen didn’t often run around with his shirt undone and bare feet hastily stuffed sockless into untied shoes. He was a man who prided himself on his self-control. It was obvious in the line of his stance, his sharp gaze, even in the first dream version of him, all buttoned up and meticulous on the beach. It was all about control with him, at least during the day.

  He was also a gentleman, his “unconscious” indiscretion aside. Somehow he’d found her last night, cared for her injuries, dressed her and put her to sleep in his own bed, but he’d slept on the couch. Even now when it would be so much more expedient to just knock her out, handcuff her and drag her back home, he argued. True, he was resorting to dirty, underhanded tactics, but he hadn’t laid a hand on her except that one time or even raised his voice.

  He was a complete contradiction. Hailey had a good idea of what to expect in terms of his actions. But beneath the surface she had no idea what he could be thinking. It awakened her curiosity and she almost wanted him to stick around so she could figure him out.

  Had Hailey ever met a guy like him before?

  Jeremy shrugged. “Sometimes love hurts. The thought that something you did was wrong, that it was a disappointment. Maybe you think you don’t deserve that affection anymore.”

  Hailey didn’t dignify that with an answer. She turned her back on him and resumed packing. Her shoulder ached but the activity kept her mind from dwelling on things that brought out her animal side.

  “You may think the best of people,” she said, “but I can’t afford the risk of being proven wrong. Go home. Go back and tell Amelia you didn’t find me. It’s the best solution for everyone.” It should have come out a lot more convincing than that.

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “I don’t care. It’s not your decision to make.”

  He handed her a neatly folded dark green dress – the one that had been balled up and carelessly tossed in the corner a moment ago.

  She took it without looking at him and stuffed it into her bag.

  “What if I guarantee that you will not be harmed?”

  Hailey snorted, pulling out her recorder to take pictures of her work. No way was she leaving that behind. His statement was completely absurd. Can’t guarantee that. Can’t account for the actions of others.

  Jeremy took the recorder out of her hand to make her look at him. “I will give you my word.” He said it like some knight of old, so sure he would make everything better. Might as well be swearing fealty and proffering arms in a real my-sword-is-yours deal.

  Jeremy’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what it’ll take to earn your trust?”

  She mimicked the face. “Do I suddenly deserve that kind of care?”

  “I never said you didn’t.”

  “Right,” she said in all seriousness. “Not until I prove you wrong. I remember.” Hailey reclaimed her recorder, saved her work, and placed it neatly in her bag’s special compartment. Clothes she could replace; this she couldn’t. “Look, why don’t we cut all the polite crap and get down to it?”

  “By all means. Why don’t you tell me what you think it is?”

  From the kitchen, Hailey retrieved her keys and some trinkets she didn’t want to part with. From the bathroom, she got her med kit and towels. Everything got tossed in the bag. “Your job is to bring me back. I don’t want to be brought back. Now, we could fight about this, get physical, but neither of us would like the outcome. Bottom line is, you did help me out last night. And for that, I am inclined to spare you. Also because I am injured – but don’t think that would stop me if you really pissed me off.”

  “Noted,” he said with a nod.

  “So the path of least resistance here is for you to step aside and let me walk out that door. If you follow me, I’ll know, and I won’t like it.”

  Jeremy seemed to consider it then nodded again. “Fair enough. Now it’s my turn. My job is to bring you back. And I take my job seriously. The real bottom line here is that you’re, what, a hundred and twenty pounds, maybe? One thirty-five at most? And you’re one good arm short of making a go of it. If I wanted, I could have you subdued and on a shuttle to wherever I chose without breaking a sweat. But that would mean hurting you, which I am not getting paid for. So the path of least resistance has changed.” He pulled a recorder out of his pocket—her recorder!

  Hailey gasped, making a grab for it.

  She didn’t even come close before he moved it out of her reach. How the hell … when the hell did he manage to snatch it out of her bag?

  “You come with me,” he said, “or you walk out that door without this.”

  Chapter Six

  Jeremy got them through security and onto the shuttle in record time. Any minute Hailey was bound to discover that he’d fooled her. And if she found out he didn’t really have her recorder before they took off he was in deep shit. Hailey would tear through that shuttle midlaunch and break through the door to get away from him.

  He kept her mind occupied, attention warily trained on the rest of the passengers flooding in and through their cabin until the door closed. If he could have kept it up until they landed he would have, but as it was he had neither the energy nor the inclination to stay in her mind any longer than absolutely necessary. With the shuttle sealed for liftoff there was no more immediate danger of her bolting past the flight attendants and making a run for it so he relaxed his hold on her.

  As soon as her mind was free Hailey dived for her bag. Clothing went flying out, mostly at him, and when a pale blue slip of underwear landed on his head Jeremy was glad the flight attendants were busy elsewhere.

  Naturally, Hailey found her recorder safe and sound right where she’d put it and she shot him a vicious glare that warned revenge was imminent. Her face changed subtly as her temper flared, faint rosettes painting over her brow and cheeks like tattoos. Jeremy hoped to hell no one else noticed.

  A lesser man would have cowered at the sight but Jeremy wasn’t feeling very apologetic, wearing her thong as a hat and her dress as a blanket. He drew the underwear off his head and held it out to
her from a fingertip.

  She snatched it from him and growled, “I hate telepaths.”

  “I’m sure they don’t like you much, either.”

  Hailey snarled.

  Jeremy almost laughed. This was as absurd a situation as any he’d been in lately. Even after a five-year friendship with Hunt he still wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the concept of shape-shifters.

  This coming from a man who can read minds.

  It was one thing to alter the abstract. Thought was fluid and changeable enough on its own to make that an easy task for anyone capable of tuning into it. But to change the solid and physical…

  He kept replaying last night in his mind. Whatever he’d expected, seeing Hailey break and tear her way from one shape to another hadn’t been it. She’d been in agony and Jeremy felt responsible; felt like a cad for having been so wholly unprepared for it.

  If he’d had even a rudimentary med kit on hand he could have eased her pain. In hindsight not having brought one was just plain stupid on his part. If he’d known that forcing a transformation the way he had would cause her to go into shock he would have found another way to bring her back.

  The memory of bloody tears streaming down her face made him cringe and shift uncomfortably in his seat. “Here,” he said, reaching for his bag. “Amelia sent this for you. I’m not exactly sure what all it’s capable of but she was certain you’d want to have it.”

  Hailey took the small computer from him, still glaring. Jeremy held his ground, refusing to be cowed. His brief forays into her thoughts gave him glimpses into her character. She might appreciate a gentlemanly gesture but she saw a line between courtesy and submission. Hailey wasn’t one to tolerate the latter. She grew bored with pushovers, and now with the animal’s influence, she was even less likely to bother with anyone too weak to stand his ground. If he was going to get anywhere with her Jeremy needed to be on equal ground with Hailey as well as her leopard.

  So he held her gaze in a staring contest, waiting for her to blink or look away first. Luckily, stubborn as she was, Hailey had her priorities. The computer was more important than showing him who was boss. Even knowing that, when she finally tore her gaze away to inspect the machine he couldn’t prevent the tiniest thrill of masculine pride that he’d won this round. “Did my sister happen to send a connector too?”