by Gina Kincade
When he’d come of age, he’d tried to connect but his efforts had proven futile. Most of the shifters he met were wild for him at first but, when they found out about his predilection with kinky fuckery, they soon headed for the hills.
All around him pheromones and chemistry were popping—just for him. This was his fifth dating scenario and he was beginning to lose hope. Maybe there wasn’t a mate out there for him and he was destined to be alone.
When he found Ventures part of him hoped he would find a woman who could accept his unique tastes but, so far, even that had failed to slake his desires.
Because none of them are your equal.
He hated it when his wolf was right.
Royce sighed.
If he’d been looking for a quick romp to satisfy his lusts, he wouldn’t have to look any further than the shapely women he’d found through the service or even the subs at the club. Easy, but not what he wanted… Craved.
He could just see Brand with his smug, shit eating grin. Once upon a time, they had caroused together but then Brand met Glenis at one of the pack Gatherings, and that put a halt to his bachelor days for good.
The sexy wolf shifter had tamed his beast and helped bring balance to the pack when they needed it the most. It was Glenis’ idea to ask Royce to send information about any shifters caught in the line of fire with Hexen and, if possible, to relocate the victims to pack headquarters for recovery.
There were shadows in the Alpha female’s eyes and every time he encountered her, Royce wondered at her story. With patience that would rival even the most seasoned nurse, she took in whomever he brought and tended to them like she’d been trained medically.
But he didn’t ask. He didn’t have to. Observing her with the patients was enough. Calm and confident, she would have been at home in his ER.
“You would have been a good nurse, Glenis.”
She’d met his gaze with a pinched expression. “But then I’d have to deal with more asshole doctors.”
His lips parted in a smile and he laughed as she said it.
“True enough and, most of the time, well deserved.”
“Mmph.” Glenis hadn’t said much more from then on. At least not to him but, each time he glanced up and caught her observing him with a thoughtful eye, he could swear she had the touch of a smile playing at the corner of her lips.
Brand was a lucky bastard.
“No. No match. I’m not sure this is going to work out.” Gods. He hated to lay it out like that but, what choice did he have? The only release he’d gotten lately was from carefully constructed scenes at Ventures, the local BDSM club run by two of his best friends and their new mate. He served as the doctor on staff when the need arose, and spent every Friday night teaching naughty submissives how to properly behave.
Between the combined duties of an occasional caning gone too far and the shifter issue, it was getting harder and harder to breathe. His wolf needed time away and that was why he’d told the boys upstairs he was taking a week off; even if it was a week with the Cypress Pack. Really, what he would have wanted was a week in the wilds but that wasn’t to be. Not with Brand nagging at him to come home.
The overhead speaker barked and he swore.
“Dr. Buchanan to Emergency.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. It can take a few tries sometimes.”
“How many does it take?” He ground out and spun on his heel, the hard soles of his shoes returning to the very place he’d just left. Coffee and a meal had been on the agenda but, when he saw the number for Shifting Hearts flash across his phone he had to answer. Better to get it over with and move on. Any time after six in the evening until about seven the next morning was always a crazy time in the ER. He’d had a ten minute nap and had wanted to grab a cup of coffee before he slid face first down a wall.
“It could take a few, Dr. Buchanan. You can’t force a mating bond. You know that.”
An ugly response formed behind his lips, but he squelched it. A gurney laden with a heavily bleeding patient raced by, one of his nurses from the emergency room pushing it down the hall like he was on fire.
His adrenaline surged and he swiveled to watch the gurney slide into the x-ray suite. Another room reserved for emergency childbirth was already full, the woman dilating, and the CT scan suite was in use. Just another night filled with chaos.
He really didn’t have time for this.
“Look. I think I'm going to have to put the brakes on this for a while.”
There was a pause on the other end.
Part of him felt bad. With the surge in shifter based hate crimes, he was sure their business had taken a hit. Unfortunately, that was part of the reason he couldn’t afford to take much time away. His people needed him here and, other than sleep and food, he would be until they found out who was behind the deaths and injuries. His bets were on Hexen, the witch based group, but then he’d been wrong before.
He’d yet to speak to a live victim. The last one they brought in had been frozen in some kind of paralysis. It was almost like a spell gone horribly wrong. Witches and shifters had never gotten along much and if he were a betting man, he would place his money there. But hunches didn’t fly until he had proof and he really hadn’t treated much in the way of magically induced injuries to know.
Witches typically took care of themselves and as a doctor he rarely saw one inside his ER. When the voice on the phone sounded, he started, lost in his head and the onset of exhaustion. He’d lost count of how many hours he’d been on his feet but suspected he was nearing twenty at this point. An hour of sleep serve him well; if he could steal the time away.
“If that's what you want to do. The ladies will be very disappointed. You’ll be quite the catch one of these days.”
Yeah. Like a side of prime beef at a barbeque. He shuddered. No. He’d had enough. Who was he kidding? The best he’d been able to manage was a couple hours at Ventures and then he’d been paged back to the hospital. Hardly even enough time to give a sub a proper spanking or to enjoy himself.
“I’ll get back to you.” Royce hung up and stomped down the hall, the din of the emergency room beckoning. The sour smell of vomit and unwashed bodies filled his nostrils, followed quickly by the scent of antiseptic chemicals and the sweet tang of blood.
An orderly struggled with a mop bucket, scrubbing at a puddle of what appeared to be vomit. Gods, he hated the jerks who thought if they threw up they’d get in to see someone faster. All it did was piss off everyone and move them to the end of a very long line.
Drunks and whining children with worried parents sat in the uncomfortable plastic chairs and, not for the first time, Royce found himself cursing the lack of funds and overstaffing that made up his nights. He bypassed the waiting room, heading straight for the nurses station to check back in.
Half a dozen of his night crew swarmed over charts, lists and forms. Lillian took a swig of coffee and dove right back into it. Sara gave him a saucy wink, her mane of brown curly hair twisted into a conservative chignon. She sorted through a chart, scribbling some information on it, and ambled to a room down the hall. The others scurried off toward their respective tasks. Nina strode up, a look of concern on her face.
“Damn, sir. That was a quick break.” Nina, the head nurse, snorted and he almost caught a flash of fang.
Lillian poked her head up from the form she was filling out and stuck the pencil behind her ear. “Did you even make it to get coffee?”
Royce narrowed his eyes and grabbed the clip board she waved in his direction. “What have you got?”
“Morons wielding power tools, a drunk with a screw driver in his eye, a kid with a broken leg from falling off the monkey bars, a bleeder with a knife wound to the gut, a Code Stroke and the puker.” Nina rattled off the current list.
“Notify the CT room and get the appropriate people in place. How old is the stroke vic?”
“Forty two. Mother of two. She’s on birth control. What do you want to bet she’s
clotting.”
“Check it out. Get those people down here. Time is brain. You know that.”
“Already on it.” Carole gave him a tight smile and headed back in the direction of the CT room.
“Good.” Royce nodded. “Next?”
“Power tool guy is in X-ray but we need to look at the bleeder. He’s being a real asshole, and if he doesn’t quit trying to hit Melody and Peter, we’re going to have to call the cops.”
“Has he connected?”
“Not yet.”
“Restrain him. I’ll be there in a moment. We need to find out where she stabbed him and with what.”
“Oh… I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” Nina sighed.
“Why?”
She reached onto the counter and held up a bloody knife in a Ziploc bag. “The wife brought it.”
Royce winced. “Okay… maybe you’d better just save time and call the cops now.”
“On it.” Nina picked up the station phone and hit speed dial. A few words and she was off the phone.
“They coming?”
“Yes. I told them not to rush. Neither one of them are going anywhere.” She lifted her chin toward the waiting room and the silently crying woman covered in blood.
“That is more than a little fucked up.”
“You know it.” Lillian sighed and flipped through more paperwork. “Where is that form? I just saw it.”
“You need some coffee.” Nina grabbed a thermos from behind the desk and poured some into a cup, handing it to Lillian. She reached for another one and poured a small cup, handing it to Royce. “Drink it.”
“Thanks.” He downed the steaming hot beverage in two or three gulps, the heat warming his insides all the way down. The other doctors wouldn’t get this lucky. Hammonds was a prick and the nurses hated the quicksand he walked on. The two residents were so busy trying to prove themselves they had yet to realize some of their greatest assets were right here.
Royce smiled. “Don’t forget alligator file Linda. That woman is going to kill herself trying to get more drugs. I thought I saw her lurking around the waiting room when the last wave of patients swept in.”
“I saw her too.” Lillian nodded. “I had to escort her out last weekend.”
“Like puking helps.” Simone, one of the more experienced ER nurses rolled her eyes and brushed past him in a colorful blur of dog emblazoned scrubs toward the curtained off beds.
A piercing howl rent the air and Nina shook her head, holding up the chart in question. “Idiots. Power tools and bourbon. Lucky he didn’t lose a limb.”
“Did he cut himself open?”
“Nope, but he crushed his foot pretty good when he dropped the chain saw on it when he fell out of the tree.”
“Oh Gods.”
“Back to the kid? Where did you put him?”
Nina pointed to one of the curtained off beds toward the end of the room. “His mother is about to be sick. I guess this is her first trip to the ER.”
Royce nodded. “One of the residents should catch that in a sec.”
“Larry’s already gone in.” Lola hunched in front of the computer, glasses perched on the edge of her nose. Her blond hair twisted in a messy bun on top of her head, she grabbed at one of the files and began entering stats immediately into the computer. Round and matronly, she was the mother hen of the group with a bullshit detector like he’d never seen.
She’d been at the data entry for hours. Monday was their worst day and he could see the steady noise was beginning to get on even her seasoned nerves.
Madeline sauntered past, chucking a chart in the bin. “Don’t forget the DB in room three.”
“Oh, yeah. That.” Nina pointed toward the curtained off beds. “Why don’t you get the stinker done so you can get on the screamer.”
“At least he’s quiet.” Lola ground out, darting a glance out from behind the screen. “Can you please deal with that loud s.o.b. before I shove this stapler up his ass?”
“Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to help with the volume, hon.” Nina’s full lips were drawn up in a grin, her cascading black hair drawn up in a ponytail so it didn’t get in the way.
“It might.”
Nina rolled her eyes.
An EMT rushed in from the sliding doors carrying a clipboard. “Doctor, there's been another bite victim. Room two and a gunshot wound in room five.”
“Lillian, who is the on duty ophthalmologist?” Royce inquired.
She glanced at the on duty roster. “Dr. Johanson.”
Nina stepped up and picked up some paperwork. “Page him. Also, see if Markenson has returned from lunch. We need him to get through this wave of crazy.”
A voice paged over head as everyone but Lola scurried off in their own direction. “We have a code brown in the ER waiting room. I need an orderly, stat.”
Royce winced. Now they had a pooper. Great.
“Okay, ladies. Let’s get to work. Has anyone seen Dr. Hammond?”
Lola gave him an ugly look. “Nope. But if I do, he might be the one with the stapler up his ass the way he fills out these forms. You doctors need to learn to write. So help me, I’m going to get admin to get us some of those electronic things where you have to type it in. Maybe then I can get it all straight.”
Ouch.
“Good luck with that.” Madeline snorted. “They can’t even get us decent toilet paper. What makes you think they’ll spring for that?”
“Mutiny.”
Madeline patted her on the back. “You try it, honey. Let me know if it works. Come on, doc. We’d better go check out the bleeders before Julio has to mop up another room full of blood. And we better find that resident. Word is he’s been hitting up on the patient in room seven.”
Chapter Two
“Damn it.” Sylvia hung up the phone and met the eyes of her business partner, Paige. Together they had created the Shifting Hearts Dating Agency and, after many successful pairings, she hated having a fail on the radar.
“What?” Paige put her cell phone down on the desk and cocked her head.
“Dr. Buchanan left; and I booked Cardiac Café just for him, too.” Sylvia got up from her desk and paced in front of the windows. “All those great milk shakes. It’s a shame.”
“You know, you’re gonna have to break out the Aphrodite powers with that one. He’s all business and no give.”
“No.” Sylvia shook her head and nibbled on her lip. “I have a feeling something’s going to change for him.”
“Like what? Find some girl and break her arm so he pays attention to her for more than five seconds? I mean, did you see him at the restaurant? All he did was walk around once and then dig into his onion rings like a starving man. It was unhealthy.”
“You’re just saying that because you wished he looked at you.” Sylvia laughed. “And those were good onion rings.”
“I don’t know how you can eat that stuff.” Paige sniffed and held up her perfectly manicured hand. “As a matter of fact, I’m not interested in dating right now. But, I can also tell you, I’ve seen your boy hanging out with a couple of regular subs at Ventures.”
“Really?”
“Yup.” Paige grinned. “That boy is kinky as hell. I wouldn’t be surprised by anything.”
“You just never know. He was so quiet, and never brought it up on the questionnaire.”
“He was probably embarrassed. Some people like to keep their lives private.”
“Well, that doesn’t help us match him up with a potential mate.”
“True.” Her phone buzzed and she looked down, a frown marring her face. “Turn on the television.”
Sylvia’s eyebrows shot up. “You sure about that?”
“Oh. Yeah. Nevermind.” Paige jumped up from her seat behind the desk and grabbed for the remote. They had a small television in the waiting area but, more often than not, it was they who got the most use out of it.
“I killed the last one. Not touching it.”
“Goddess powers can’t be contained.”
“Watch me.” Paige flicked on the television and surfed down the guide, honing in on the local news channel. The scene was filled with onlookers gaping at a scene hidden behind a partition and a ton of fluttering crime scene tape.
“What happened?”
“I just got this weird text on my phone. Garrett, from the club, said it has something to do with shifters.”
“Turn the volume up.”
“The deceased was a known shifter and a member of many local community organizations. One other shifter was injured during the shooting, and has been taken to the hospital. We won’t be identifying victims until the families are notified.” Tommy Bartlett, the local sheriff, was speaking on the screen. A guarded expression covered his face, his body language stiff and stilted.
“We at WNRK have learned of the hate group HEXEN and their recent witch on shifter violence. Can you confirm that, Sheriff?”
“Not at this time.” The sheriff shifted on his feet and his jaw tightened.
“What about suspects?”
“We haven’t got anyone of interest at this time. But someone is very obviously targeting members of the shifter community. This follows several attacks around town of known anti-shifter hate crimes over the course of the last six weeks. If you or someone you know are dual natured, be aware of your surroundings and don’t put yourself in a risky situation until we know more about what this is. Thank you, folks.”
“Thank yo,u Sheriff Paulsen.” The blonde reporter turned back to the camera. “This is Eileen Maberry coming to you from Isenby Park. Stay safe, Cypress Valley.”
“I thought that looked familiar. It’s over around the jogging trail.” Sylvia said thoughtfully.
“You jog?” Paige raised an eyebrow.
“Funny.”
“This isn’t good. Jonathan and Lucas had mentioned some anti-shifter violence causing them to move. But here? Over half our population is dual natured.” Paige clicked off the television and sat down on the arm of the couch. “If shifters are afraid to come out, our business is going to suffer.”