Virgo

by Kim Faulks

  Claws resurfaced, slashing through the memory of that night. Panic rose, filled my ears with the thrashing of my pulse. I gripped the edges of the basin and swallowed the urge to run. I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t get out, and I was shackled like a prisoner once more.

  I snatched the plug and pressed it home before hitting the tap. Water splashed, filling the sink. Don’t look…my throat tightened…no more…not today.

  I grabbed a washcloth and dipped it into the warm water and reached for the soap. I skimmed my skin and dabbed my bruises. I was alive—my hands shook—I was alive.

  I shed the rest of my clothes, washed and then dried before tapping clean dressings over my neck. What day was it today? I closed my eyes and tried to think. Norma was on the evening shift tomorrow. She’d tend to my back and all the places I couldn’t bring myself to see.

  She’d mother me. She’d care for me. But she wouldn't let me cry.

  She was my oldest friend and most loyal supporter. She believed in the work we were doing here, almost as much as I did, and it was those people who kept me going.

  I walked into the bedroom and pulled out loose-fitting clothes. I couldn’t sit here, not while Thorn was out there. I had to do…something.

  Dressing on my own was harder than I expected. Sweat broke out along my brow by the time I sat back down on the bed, exhausted. My bra rubbed the wounds along my spine. I rose from the bed, keeping my movements smooth and small and made my way out of the bedroom.

  I had the small unit tacked onto the back of the expansive building when I purchased it, and for a long time there was only me, Norma, and two other nurses that helped me run this special clinic.

  I pulled the door closed behind me and made for the interconnecting hall. My stomach tightened and let out a feeble howl as I found the sharp sterile scent of antiseptic. Food was the last thing my mind needed…but my body had other plans.

  “Angel, thank God.”

  Footsteps resounded behind me. I slowed, steadied myself against the wall and turned. “Carmen.”

  She scanned my careful movements, taking in my stiff posture. “I didn’t think…” Tears brimmed her eyes. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

  “It’s okay.” I held out my hand. “It’s okay.” Those words rang false and yet she nodded, taking all I had to give and more. “It’s not as bad as it looks, believe me.”

  She fussed, leaning in to hold me against her. She didn’t notice me stiffen. She didn’t hear the catch of breath. She didn’t notice the way I flinched when a door slammed shut at the other end of the hall.

  She didn’t really notice me at all as she spoke. “Hannah is in the last stages. We’ve done just about all we can at the moment. John and Katy are with her now.” She looked behind her. “They’ve stayed all night, held her, rocked her, bathed her. They’ve asked for Kitty and Jonah to visit tomorrow night and Leon has taken it upon himself…”

  I nodded, listening to her run down the last days of this young girl’s life and for a second I wondered how I got to this moment.

  Maddy…that’s how.

  “I just wanted you to know I prayed day and night for your return. I prayed the Good Lord kept you safe.”

  I forced a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “He did, didn’t He?” She gripped my arm and squeezed. “He kept you in His arms, safe and sound.”

  I turned my head, but in my mind, I rubbed against a chest that wasn’t God’s. Arms wrapped around me tight and his voice filled my ears. You’re okay, Doc. Do you hear me? You’re okay.

  “I think I’m going to get some work done,” I whispered and licked cracked lips.

  “Good idea. Take your mind off things. I’ll be around if you need me.”

  I left her there, staring at my back, wondering what happened that night, and passed the nursing station before I turned left to where my lab waited. I lengthened my stride, pulling damaged muscles desperate to find my haven.

  This place was more than my life’s work. It was my eye in the center of the storm. I couldn’t fight, not like the Dragons and the wolves, but this… I shoved through the swinging door of the staff lounge and cut between the kitchen and the chairs to the swinging door on the other side…this was where I fought.

  The cold, sterile air greeted me with a whoosh. Stainless and white glared as I flicked on the light. I walked deeper into the lab, powering on monitors and machines until the familiar whirr of home filled the air.

  Microscopes sat along one side of the stainless bench, the other was crammed with my computer, centrifuges, fridges, and a bank of sequencing machines. I ran my fingers along the cold steel. “It’s so good to see you again my old friend. Now, how about we make some magic together?”

  This was my work, cutting, repairing and changing genomes, infecting not just in a test tube, but in the nucleus of living cells. One day I’d crack the sequence, one day I’d take the regeneration components of a shifter and use them to save lives—one day I’d bring humans and shifters together in the most profound way.

  This was my rally. This was my pledge. This was me fighting the only way I knew how to fight. The screen came on with a blink. I hit the run commands on the keyboard and watched my lab come to life.

  I plucked a fresh white coat from the top of the pile and eased it over my arms. The act was so very normal, something I’d done a thousand times before. But today was different. Today there was no drive. Today…I felt lost.

  I walked around the machines, checking calibrations, and sat at my desk. The cursor blinked with the last sequence. Numbers and data blurred across the page and suddenly all the information lost all meaning.

  Was I really fighting? Was I really winning?

  My damn hand shook as I moved the mouse, watching the CRISPR system cut the target DNA at the sickle cell mutation. The sequence paired what was left of the healthy strand, recombining with the infected shifter gene, creating new and healthy DNA.

  And as I stared at the screen the magic lost all meaning.

  I pressed re-wind and watched it again, seeing not just pairs and strands, but whole living people…just like—I turned my head and looked to the doorway, like Hannah Saul, dying at only eight years old by this vicious fucking monster we had no control over.

  The recombination sequence played over again, cutting, repairing, coming to life in the most vivid way only to falter at the last second, and die.

  This monster we couldn’t fight…this monster I couldn’t fight. Just as I couldn’t fight the wolves and the panthers. Just as I was helpless when those black monsters came to…

  To take her away.

  The sequence played over…and over…while that night closed in, bringing with it the demons of my past. I shook my head and stood from the desk. The clock on the screen read wrong. I blinked and leaned closer…hours…I’d been sitting here for hours, staring at—I glanced to the screen and watched the strand die—death, I’d been watching death.

  An ache flared across my back as I moved. The stitches pulled taut, turning savage as my stomach let out a howl. I licked dry lips and swallowed. The effects of the intravenous fluid was long gone, my mouth was parched, skin pale.

  I left the re-run of the last failure and walked to the staff lounge. I shoved through the doorway and stared at the darkened hallway outside. I’d missed the change of shift. I’d missed dinner. I’d missed everything, but that was nothing new—not to those I worked with—they knew to leave me be.

  I shoved the back of a chair, pushing it under the table before I turned to the kitchenette. The urn gurgled, boiling water. I clenched my shaking fingers and reached for my old, chipped mug. The box of earl grey was open, no one else drank the stuff, only me.

  I dropped the teabag into the mug and pressed the lever on the urn watching the boiling water race to the rim. So normal…

  So fucking normal.

  Like nothing happened at all.

  And I could just return to my life with t
his ache—I grasped the sink as the pain flared…this goddamn ache.

  Hot water splashed my hand.

  The sting was instant, searing all the hurt and the pain so deep it felt cellular.

  I clenched my fist around the mug and hurled it across the room. The ceramic shattered on impact, splashing the wall with the steaming water, raining pieces of broken mug over the floor.

  “Fuck you!”

  My scream cut through the room, and then died, leaving me hollow and empty.

  “Fuck you,” I murmured and collapsed against the sink as thick tears fell. “She was mine too…”

  I was no mother, but I loved her just the same. I swiped away the tears with the back of my hand and stared at the mess. “She was mine too.”

  My legs were shaky as I crossed the room. It was my favorite mug. My goddamn favorite mug. I dropped to my knee and picked the pieces from the floor. White shards stuck out of the cracks and the trickle of earl grey puddled at my feet.

  I rose from the floor and turned.

  He stood inside the doorway, watching me with dark, hooded eyes that missed nothing. His pale skin looked ashen under the overhead lights. If I touched him, I knew what I’d find…something cold.

  A shiver tore through my center. I sucked in a slow breath as my pulse sped and tried to find my voice. “Did Gabriel send you?”

  The Vampire smiled, revealing pointed white fangs.

  The sight was a shard of ice through the middle of my chest.

  And I forgot about the shattered mug in my hands.

  I forgot about everything.

  Except for this undead creature as he took a step toward me, and crossed the room.

  12

  Michael

  “There’s been no ransom, don’t you think that’s strange?”

  The screech of a two-way behind me drowned out her voice. I turned from the darkening sky to Odessa. A frigid wind cut across the mountain and down through the trees—and yet they were still out there, still looking—still hunting.

  I let the plywood door swing shut and turned to the seer. “What?”

  “The ransom,” she murmured. “There’s been none, don’t you think that’s strange? What would she want with a helpless baby?”

  I turned to the table and stared at Irwin. The Marine was fast asleep, head resting on his arms, still gripping the pen as he snored. I turned my back on the icy wind and the impending night. The fourth day since we found Doc and the wolf baby was almost done, and the fifth loomed. Still there was no sign.

  “I would trade if it meant getting her back.”

  I narrowed my gaze and my attention crowded in. “What do you mean?”

  “Me for her,” Odessa answered and that soft breath of other raced across my skin. She searched my eyes, trying to find an answer. “They’ll try to turn us against each other. We can’t let them win. We have to be strong. We have to be strong for each other.”

  Heat raced through my chest, finding a home in my cheeks. The seer saw too much, and knew even more. I shifted my stance from one foot to another. “And if this was all for nothing, what then, Seer? What if everything that’s happened could’ve been prevented?”

  Amber eyes sparkled, searching for the truth. “Then I’d say if fate had decided I wouldn’t find my sisters, or my Dragon, I’d still be out there searching. Maybe I’d find them, maybe I wouldn’t. But we’d never know. Not truly. All I have is what’s in front of me. That’s what I choose to fight for. Are you fighting, Michael? Are you truly fighting? Or are you content to look down on the rest of us from your mighty pedestal and judge?”

  She gave me a smile, and then turned and left.

  The frigid air found its way through the cracks of the door to chill my spine as the seer’s words settled deep. Is that how she saw me? The one who stood on the sidelines ready to judge the acts of others?

  I was fighting.

  I was fighting.

  Movement drew my gaze to the hallway of the room. Marcus strode into the lounge room, yawned, and rubbed the stubble on his chin.

  His eyes were bloodshot; his shoulders sagged. He turned his head and stared at me. There was a sadness in our connection, one I’d never felt before and then he turned away, striding around to the desk to gently shake the sleeping Marine.

  Irwin jerked from the connection and shot up from the chair. He took one look at my brother and wrenched his gaze to the monitors. They’d been working around the clock, and still we had nothing.

  But each other. At least we had that.

  I found Odessa standing amongst the wolves. She smiled at the others, reached out and touched, reassuring each one in a way only the wolves did. She turned her head and found my gaze. The woman got under my skin, and not in a good way, and yet there was an undeniable truth in her words.

  Abrial followed moments later, trudging in while she rubbed the knots from the back of her neck. She looked just as tired, just as strung out, as she made her way over to the table.

  North, Isaiah, and the others still hadn’t returned, but the unease had spread amongst the other packs. The Alphas weren’t happy to share their status with a woman.

  Especially one who had a Dragon at her back.

  And with our family scattered to the winds that left us vulnerable.

  Marcus replaced the Marine at the desk, checking the monitors and picking up the satellite phone. The soldier didn’t move far. He stumbled to the couch and collapsed. One hand slapped across his eyes, snores echoed moments later.

  The soft cries of a baby cut through the house, followed by a pitiful tiny howl of a wolf in mourning. All heads turned toward the hallway, and for a second I couldn’t breathe.

  I knew that soul-crushing feeling, knew how it plucked the strings of desperation, and it was those strings that brought you undone. Xael stepped into the dining room from the other side of the hall, and every one of my family turned toward her.

  We knew how the weight of helplessness crushed you.

  We knew the lengths you’d go to save the ones you loved.

  The tiny howl cut clean like a blade. I’d give anything to get our little Dragon back. I’d give anything to ease his pain. My thoughts returned to the doc. At least we had each other. All she had was four hospital walls.

  And suddenly that seemed so cruel. She sacrificed everything and yet she was still an outsider, and still alone—I just couldn’t let that stand.

  I could feel their gazes as I crossed the room and headed for the garage. I slipped inside and hit the button. The door rose with a rumble and a moan. I passed the other four-wheel drives and slipped into my Jeep.

  Darkness crowded the edges of a purple sky as I turned the key and shoved the car into gear. I hit the button for the door and eased the car forward. The glint of steel shone in the rearview mirror as I swung wide, missing not just Irwin’s car, but also the beaten up wagon of the deputy…former deputy.

  Finn had barely strayed from his sister’s side, leaving only to check on their mother and then return. For a human he was holding his shit together, even in the face of danger.

  And there was plenty of danger to go around.

  I turned left and pressed the accelerator to the floor. Lights sparkled in the distance, but Nyx wasn’t my destination. Flinders City called with its shifter community and darker roots…and one female doctor I just couldn’t get out of my head.

  13

  Michael

  Stars sparkled overhead as I pulled up outside the hospital and climbed out of the car. Remnants of my last visit came back to me. The good doctor said she wanted the truth.

  And I would give her the truth. All I had to decide was what version to give.

  The automatic doors opened with a whoosh, and then closed behind me. The thud of my boots resounded along the stark corridor. I worked my way toward the far wing, bypassing empty nurses’ stations and darkened rooms, until I slowed at her door.

  “Visiting hours are over.”

  I turned and f
ound a nurse buried behind a stack of files. “Doc Angel. I just wanted to see—”

  “She’s gone. Checked herself out yesterday.”

  I looked to the darkened doorway of her room. That couldn't be right. Her injuries…

  “Mind if I check?”

  The nurse splayed her hands on the desk and rose from the chair, all five foot four of spitfire and snark. “You deaf? Visiting hours are over. You can’t just come waltzing in, shifter.”

  “Shifter?”

  A nerve twitched near her eye. She looked to the doorway and all of a sudden, I didn’t believe a word she said. I took a slow step, edging closer. She went for the phone the moment I moved. I lifted a hand, “Easy now. I just want to make sure.”

  “Security. I need you in West Wing General now. We’ve got a situation here.”

  The hospital room was empty and dark. The machines were gone; bed was made, waiting for the next patient.

  “It’s okay,” I muttered and turned from the doorway and headed down the hall. “I’m gone.”

  The sight of the empty bed worried me. The last time I saw her she was barely functioning. Not long out of surgery and back from the brink of death. She was not in any shape to be on her own.

  The crack of a two-way echoed along the hall. I picked up pace. I should’ve planned this better. Shouldn’t have walked out on her, not like that, not until I knew…

  Knew she was safe…knew she was with me…my Dragon snarled.

  I turned the corner as the heavy thud of boots rang out.

  “Hey, you there. Stop.”

  I dropped my shoulders and barged ahead. The automatic doors came into view as I dug for my keys.

  “I said stop!”

  A hand closed around my arm and squeezed. “I said stop there, buddy.” The guard dug his fingers deeper. An ache flared, grinding nerve into bone as he yanked. “Don’t take another step.”