by Tara West
“Hello. May I help you?” Eilea cautiously approached them, having learned from Uncle Joe that females could sometimes get possessive when other women came near their mates.
The woman gave Eilea an assessing look. “You the doctor?” she said in a thick accent similar to what she’d heard from the African villagers she’d encountered. Eilea squared her shoulders. “I am.”
The woman puffed up her chest. “I am Nakomi Strongpaw. My mate is sick.”
“Wasn’t Amara Thunderfoot available?” Eilea was shocked that the shifters would come to see her when Amara could heal him in seconds.
Nakomi’s top lip pulled back in a snarl. “You don’t want to see him?”
Eilea blinked hard at Nakomi, thinking her hostility was out of fear for her mate. “I assumed you’d rather see Amara.”
“We did see her,” Nakomi spat, her tone as venomous as a viper’s. “She couldn’t heal him.”
Amara couldn’t heal chickenpox? For Eilea was almost positive that’s what she was looking at. Odd, because she knew Amara had healed terminal cancer. Chickenpox should’ve been a simple fix.
Eilea backed up a step, limbs shaking when Nakomi growled at her. “Bring him inside.”
She opened the clinic door and turned off the alarm with a trembling hand, mind reeling. What had she done to anger Nakomi? She ushered the Strongpaws to the waiting room, remembering this time to grab their file. The pack was grouped under one file. All packs were. Forget patient confidentiality among the Amaroki. Actually, forget all rule of law among them. They lived by an entirely different code.
She quickly scanned their history. They were a smaller pack, with only three brothers and one alpha. Their new mate had recently moved to Alaska from Ethiopia. Odd. That’s where Eilea had done her charity work in a rundown third-world hospital. She’d chosen Ethiopia after running a DNA test and learning she was 20 percent Ethiopian, and though she’d hoped to bond with her patients, most of them mistrusted her American background. Eilea wondered if she and Nakomi had ever crossed paths before. Maybe Eilea had accidentally offended her, though none of that mattered at the moment. What mattered was healing her sick patient.
According to their chart, none of them had been vaccinated, save for Rene, the tracker. The sick shifter appeared to be the youngest, Albert Strongpaw, barely twenty-years-old with a broad frame and baby face, like most gammas.
Her innards churned. If Amara couldn’t heal Albert, Eilea feared she wouldn’t be able to either. She tried to quell the rising tide of fear that gripped her. Wolves could smell fear, and she didn’t want to give them another reason to worry.
She led them to an exam room, puzzled when the two older brothers wobbled like drunks. Had they been drinking? She asked them to remove Albert’s jacket and shirt. She wasn’t surprised to see his torso covered with the same pustules. She slipped a thermometer under his tongue, shocked when her fingers brushed his skin. He was burning up. She looked into his eyes, which were glassy and red. His blood pressure was slightly elevated, and his oxygen reading was too low for her liking. Most alarming was his 103° temperature. Albert needed more than what her small clinic could provide. He needed to be hospitalized.
“What’s wrong with him?” Nakomi asked, settling a hand on her mate’s forehead.
Eilea attempted to sound calm while she measured fever-reducing medicine into a cup. “He has the chickenpox.”
“Impossible.” Nakomi snorted, and her other mates grunted their agreement. “Amaroki don’t get human diseases.”
Eilea set down the medicine and turned to them. “What diseases do you get?”
Nakomi gave her another cold look. “None.”
Eilea knew as much after reading Amaroki files, but she’d been hoping she’d overlooked something, maybe a simple and easily curable virus. It did not bode well for Albert Strongpaw if chickenpox was new to his species. He wouldn’t have any inherited immunity to the disease.
“Well, I’m sorry.” Eilea stared down Nakomi. “But I’ve seen enough cases of chickenpox to know that’s what we’re dealing with.”
When Nakomi growled at her, the alpha laid a hand on her arm, giving her a warning look. He stepped forward, clutching a woolen skullcap in a white-knuckled grip. Eilea recognized his face from the Strongpaw file: Loki, with piercing gray eyes and a thick Mohawk that hung in a long tail down his back.
“What do we do for him, Doctor?” he asked.
“His temperature is too high.” She held up the small cup of medicine. “I need to bring it down right away.”
His brothers had to hold Albert down as she practically forced the medicine down his throat. He was becoming more listless by the minute.
“Help me get him to a bed.” The room across the hall had almost a dozen hospital beds. “I’ll hook him to an IV and get him oxygen.”
Ignoring Nakomi’s grumbling, Eilea moved them into the other room and prepared an IV. Albert didn’t flinch when she stuck him with the needle. He appeared to be drifting in and out of consciousness. She hooked him up to oxygen, hoping to see an improvement in his levels. He should be taken to a hospital along with his family, in case they come down with the virus. Without nurses or other staff, she didn’t have the facilities to accommodate them all.
Loki sat by his brother’s bed, clasping his hand. “Will he die?”
“Not if I can help it,” she said as she checked his temperature once more. She frowned at the thermometer. It hadn’t budged.
She looked over the other shifters for signs of the virus. None yet, but they were all wearing long sleeves. She’d have to do full physicals.
“I’ll need to examine all of you for signs of chickenpox.”
Nakomi crossed her arms. “We’re fine.”
What was wrong with this woman? Eilea refused to let Nakomi intimidate her, even though she knew the shifter had the power to rip out her throat. Hopefully, Nakomi’s mates wouldn’t let her kill Eilea.
She gave Nakomi a long look before turning to Loki. “I need to check everyone, and if there are no signs, you will need to get vaccinated before it spreads.”
Nakomi threw up her hands. “You must be joking.”
“Why would I joke about this?”
The smallest of the brothers stood and faced his pack, wobbling slightly before righting himself. “I’ve already had the vaccine. It’s no big deal.”
He had to be the tracker, Rene.
“I don’t like needles.” Nakomi pouted, crossing her arms.
“You’ll be fine.” Rene took Nakomi’s chin in his hand, gently kissing her forehead. “I don’t want you getting this.”
When Nakomi sighed and leaned into her mate, Eilea was compelled to look away, a twinge of jealousy stabbing her chest. Seeing this little display of affection kindled a flame of hope she’d snuffed out long ago. The Lupescu men had probably forgotten her by now, not that she’d blame them when she’d so adamantly refused them. She was human, and they were wolves. Though they’d claimed to have scented her, they had to be mistaken. Eilea was a strong, independent woman, and from what she’d seen of the Amaroki society, women were mostly baby machines. No thanks. She wouldn’t mind the devotion and attention of four virile, sexy-as-fuck wolf-shifters, but none of the attached strings that came with the relationship appealed to her.
She decided to do her best to put the Lupescus out of her mind as she checked each of their vitals. How strange that the brothers seemed off balance but she didn’t detect alcohol on their breath. They were slightly warm, but not feverish. Possibly from the exertion of dragging their bother into the clinic. She did a quick reflex check. They were a little slow.
“Have either of you been drinking?” she asked them.
“No, Doctor,” Loki answered. “We’ve been out of sorts ever since our hunt.”
Dehydration had to be the cause. “Did you drink enough while hunting?”
Loki scratched the back of her head. “I don’t remember stopping to drink at all.”
She gave them each two bottles of electrolytes and made them drink while she prepared the shots. Luckily, she had vaccinations on hand for trackers and federal agents.
She started with the alpha, who seemed to be more alert after drinking electrolytes. She then went to Nakomi, dreading having to touch the angry woman.
Her stomach churned when she met Nakomi’s cold, hard stare. She bit her lip to keep from smiling when Nakomi hissed as the needle pierced her skin. Though she was supposed to be objective, she felt gratification as she pressed the needle into the shifter.
When she was finished, she called Uncle Joe, explaining that a sick shifter needed transport to the military hospital in Fairbanks. She then checked on her patient, concerned that his temperature had risen another degree. She examined his pustules again. It had to be chickenpox. She’d seen too many cases to count. Again, she wondered why Amara couldn’t heal him, and if it was true shifters didn’t catch human diseases, what had caused this, and why was he getting worse?
EILEA WAITED OVER AN hour for the ambulance to arrive, yet nobody came. She called her uncle again, concerned when it went to voicemail. She was about to call the military hospital when a familiar truck barreled into the drive. A red-faced Tor jumped out, followed by the second alpha named Skoll. They pulled Tatiana out of the vehicle and half-carried her toward the clinic. Mihaela followed at their heels, begging for them to be gentle with their daughter.
Well, fuck.
Tor surged ahead while Skoll held onto Tatiana.
Eilea’s knees weakened when Tor’s eyes glowed a dazzling gold.
He burst into the waiting room, slamming the door so hard against the wall, he cracked the glass window. “What was in those pills you gave her?” he boomed.
“Why? What happened?” She stepped away from the phone and cautiously walked around the counter. Her uncle had worked with Tor for years. He always said Tor was a gentle giant and a fair leader. She sure as hell hoped he was right.
“She set fire to her room.” Tor threw a glance over his shoulder as Skoll pulled her into the waiting room. “The whole house damn near burned down. We’re at our wit’s end with this girl. I don’t know what to do.”
“She needs a fierce beating,” Skoll said through his teeth.
“Skoll, no!” Mihaela cried, falling into a chair.
Tatiana hung her head, a lone tear slipping down her cheek.
Something in Eilea’s gut told her Tatiana was not to blame for the fire. She repressed a shudder when a sudden chill swept into the room.
She plastered on a pained smile. “Let me speak to Tatiana alone for a moment.” She held out her hand to the girl, her heart sinking when Skoll refused to let go. “Please.”
Skoll dug his fingers into Tatiana’s arm. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”
Sheesh! Amaroki men were way too fucking controlling. Eilea gave herself a mental pat on the back for rejecting the four shifters who’d tried to claim her as their mate.
“Skoll,” Mihaela said, rising to her feet and clenching her hands. “Let the doctor talk to her.” She let out a low growl, her eyes shifting to a blinding white.
Much to Eilea’s amazement, Skoll released Tatiana and backed away. Whoa, and here she’d thought Amaroki women were just doormats.
“No more drugs!” Tor said to Eilea as she took Tatiana into an exam room.
She shut the door on the grumbling shifters and heaved a sigh of relief. Holy shitfire, she didn’t realize how badly she was shaking until she released the door handle and looked down at her trembling hands. She shoved them in her lab coat, balling them into fists and willing the tremors to subside.
Tatiana had taken a seat on the table, hanging her head like a dog who’d been scolded for messing on the carpet.
“Do you have a tornaq following you?” Eilea asked.
Tatiana’s head shot up, her eyes going wide. “Yes.”
Another chill swept up Eilea’s spine, and she had the feeling she was being watched. Last year she hadn’t believed in ghosts, but that was before she met a species of people who could shift into wolves and hulking beasts. Believing in ghosts wasn’t as big a stretch as believing in Bigfoot.
She swallowed back another lump of fear, her mouth going as parched as the Texas panhandle during a dry spell. “Is she here now?”
Tatiana nodded.
Eilea’s gut churned as the chill along her spine turned more frigid. “Why don’t you tell your parents?”
Tatiana turned her gaze to the frayed end of the old sweater draped over her shoulders. Eilea wasn’t used to seeing Tatiana dressed in hand-me-down clothes.
“She will kill them if I say anything,” she whispered.
“Tatiana, she tried to burn your house down. She will kill them anyway. Tell them.”
The cabinets rattled.
“Look out!” Tatiana screamed.
Eilea ducked and a syringe clattered against the wall behind her. She stumbled toward Tatiana, clutching the girl’s hands. The metal cabinet doors flew open, and the contents fell to the floor.
“Katarina knows her mates have scented you, Dr. Johnson,” Tatiana spoke with a tremor in her voice. “She heard my parents discussing it last night.”
Well, shit.
Eilea held Tatiana, digging her fingers into the girl’s back when the scattered medical supplies rose from the floor and spun in a vortex around them. Tatiana let out an ear-piercing scream when a needle flew past her head.
The door burst open and a ten-foot hairy beast Eilea assumed to be Tor stood on the threshold, mouth agape. “What is the meaning of this?” Tor yelled with a deeper than normal voice.
Tatiana and Eilea held each other as the vortex spun faster, creating a din and rattling the walls.
“Tatiana, are you doing this?” Tor demanded.
“No!” Tatiana cried, burying her face in Eilea’s shoulder.
“It’s Katarina’s ghost,” Eilea said.
Tor let out such a roar, Eilea swore a freight train was driving through her eardrums.
The vortex stopped, vials and syringes clattering to the floor.
Plastic crunched under Tor’s big feet as he crossed to Tatiana. “Is she gone?”
Tatiana looked around the room, a haunted look in her eyes. “I don’t see her anymore.”
He leaned over his daughter, clutching her shoulder. “You had a tornaq haunting you, and you didn’t tell us?”
“She said she would kill you if I told.” Tatiana’s voice cracked.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said, scooping the girl into his arms and carrying her out of the room.
Eilea hopped over glass and quickly followed. No way was she being left alone.
The scene in the waiting room made her heart clench, and a twinge of jealousy made her flush. Tatiana’s parents took turns holding her while wiping her tears.
The thin scar along Eilea’s back itched when she recalled waking up in the hospital when she was a child and having no parents to comfort her. She had been the only survivor after her family was killed by a drunk driver. She’d had her grandmother, but she wanted her mother and father. Besides, her grandmother’s idea of comfort was usually some hokey spiritual cleansing. After she’d recovered enough to leave the hospital, Eilea had longed for her parents, crying herself to sleep that first night. Then her father’s twin had shown up for the funeral, the elusive uncle her parents had named as Eilea’s guardian in their will. He looked a lot like her father, but she didn’t see the same love and devotion in his dark eyes. He hadn’t even offered Eilea a hug before he was gone, saying his demanding job left him no time to raise a child. Her uncle’s rejection had hurt her almost as much as losing her parents and big brother.
Another chill swept into the room, reminding Eilea they were not alone. Tatiana hugged her mother. Tor growled and the chill dissipated. So the ghost was afraid of Tor. Too bad he couldn’t be with Eilea at all times, because she suspected the angry spirit would be bac
k.
“Now what?” she asked him.
His eyes shone a blinding gold. “Now we banish her to the afterworld.”
A low moan from the back reminded her she had a patient.
Skoll’s nostrils flared. “Smells like the Strongpaws are here.”
“They are. I need to get back to them.”
Tor arched a brow. “Which one of them is sick?”
“Albert,” Eilea answered.
His brows drew together. “Why didn’t they go to Amara?”
“They did. She couldn’t heal him.”
“Impossible.”
Eilea let out a weary sigh. Fatigue from stress had already hit her, and it was still morning. “That’s what they told me.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Tor asked.
Eilea hesitated. She didn’t want to violate patient confidentiality, not that it mattered among shifters. They shared everything, starting with their women. Besides, the chieftain needed to know they could be facing an epidemic. “Looks like chickenpox. I think it would be a good idea if the entire tribe was vaccinated.”
He crossed his arms, widening his stance. “We don’t get infectious diseases.”
“He’s very sick,” Eilea said, “I’ve asked my uncle to send for an ambulance. His fever isn’t coming down despite fluids and medicine. In fact, it’s rising.”
“Let me see him.”
The knots around Eilea’s spine tightened. “Have you had your chickenpox vaccination?”
“Of course not.” He let out a laugh. “Only the trackers are vaccinated, and only because our government insists.”