Page 18

Nate

M y bike allowed me to get to the hospital well ahead of Ollie and Cameron.

The motorcycle gave me the freedom I loved.

Bobbing and weaving through traffic, pushing things to their limit—it was how I lived my life, and I enjoyed the adrenaline rush.

Back in the day, Ollie used to tell me I’d end up dead or in jail the way I liked to ride, but so far it had worked out fine for me.

I was sitting on the bike, waiting for them, when Ollie’s police-issued sedan pulled in. Cameron gave me a look as they drove past to find a parking spot. Her gaze lingered on me, and I smirked. She rolled her eyes and turned to Ollie again.

She was a peculiar woman indeed. I’d spent years getting used to the fact that I could use my charms and looks to ingratiate myself with any woman I wanted.

It wasn’t necessarily cockiness—okay, maybe it was a little cocky, but it was mostly a natural self-awareness.

I was attractive, women enjoyed confidence, and I enjoyed giving women what they wanted. Simple as that.

Yet, Cameron seemed to either be immune to my game or was good at hiding it.

That alone made her intriguing. The fact that she was a knockout didn’t hurt.

Smart and cute was usually all I needed, but she was feisty and strong.

Hell, she’d managed to single-handedly fight off a feral wolf.

I smiled to myself. What other talents did she have?

My mind went into overdrive as I imagined us together.

I wasn’t one for daydreams or fantasies, so this was unexpected. Nice, but unusual for me.

“What are you grinning about?” she asked as she and Ollie walked up.

I gave her a once-over. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about something fun.”

“Ugh, whatever,” she muttered.

She could act aloof all she wanted, but I could smell her arousal when she was around me. Though, unlike most women, she was fighting that attraction. Maybe I wasn’t her type.

She turned to Ollie. “I know you told me the other day you couldn’t talk about the case, but I feel like I deserve some information now that I’m personally involved.”

Ollie heaved out a sigh. “That’s true, you are involved, but some information is still need-to-know. Unfortunately, Ms. Torres, regardless of your experiences thus far, you still don’t need to know.”

“What if we worked in hypotheticals?” she asked flippantly, smiling at Ollie.

He narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Hypothetically, if this serial killer really is using a trained animal, what sorts of leads has the department looked into? Perhaps he’s a professional dog trainer?

Have you checked local obedience schools and cross-referenced their employees?

Has any DNA analysis been done on the bites to figure out what kind of dog is being used? ”

Her questions came rapid-fire, and from the look on Ollie’s face, she’d been questioning him since they left the newspaper office. He looked on the verge of snapping.

“Ms. Torres, as I’ve said multiple times, I can’t comment on the investigation at this time. Even hypothetical answers to hypothetical questions could hurt the case.”

“What about speaking off the record? Nothing with your name attached. Can you give me any hints as to the profile you’ve developed for the killer? Have you contacted the RCMP to assist with the investigation?”

I snorted a laugh. “I don’t think Ollie needs any help from Dudley Do-Right .”

Cameron glared at me. “The Royal Canadian Mounted Police are Canada’s preeminent law enforcement agency.”

“Yeah, those horses, red uniforms, and goofy hats really inspire fear,” I said as I walked through the doors.

“That’s all ceremonial these days,” Cameron said. “They don’t usually ride around on horses like that anymore.”

“Sure thing,” I said, waving at her to go back to her discussion with Ollie.

“You haven’t answered my question, Detective Vickers. Has Toronto PD contacted outside resources to assist?”

Ollie groaned. “Ms. Torres, can we have a few minutes of quiet? Please?”

“What’s wrong, Ollie?” I cocked an eyebrow and grinned at him. “Can’t handle a strong-willed woman?”

He looked at me in exasperation while Cameron ignored my attempt at a compliment.

It impressed me how she’d gone so quickly from fear and worry right back to professionalism.

I’d warned Ollie against the whole disease angle, thinking it might freak her out.

She had freaked out—I could smell it in her pheromones—but she’d hidden it well and pushed down her fear.

She seemed like a tough woman, not easily rattled.

I liked that. It was also funny watching Ollie squirm beneath her barrage of questions.

I moved a bit closer to her, wanting to catch her scent.

Jasmine, mint, vanilla, and the faintest hint of arousal the closer I got to her.

She was reacting to me. The same thing had happened the night I’d met her at her apartment.

Some part of her was into me, but it looked like she wanted nothing to do with those thoughts.

“I’m gonna go find a nurse,” Ollie said, then hurried off, escaping more questions from Cameron.

I leaned against the wall to wait. She stood near me, awkwardly crossing and uncrossing her arms. The reporter vanished the second Ollie walked away, and the worried, terrified woman returned.

Cameron was just an innocent person who’d been thrust into something she never asked for, awaiting the news that would tell her the depth of the shit she’d found herself in.

“It’s gonna be fine. Don’t worry,” I said, tucking my sunglasses into my collar.

Cameron glanced at me in disbelief. “Seriously? How can you know that? You guys said I might be sick with something. And this guy might be a freaking serial killer. How the hell are you all calm and content? Doesn’t that thought freak you out?”

“I’m calm because I’ve dealt with stuff like this before. That’s why I’m here to begin with.”

“What? Here in the hospital?”

I chuckled at that. “No. I mean in Toronto. I’m what you might call a nomad. I bounce around doing jobs like this all the time. Ollie called me in for this because I’ve seen it before. I’m a bit of an expert, actually.”

That little bit of information didn’t put her at ease. In fact, if anything, the acrid tang of her fear grew more intense. Clearly, the idea that a specialist had to be brought in didn’t inspire awe from her.

Ollie returned with a nurse. Her scent was similar to Ollie’s—a pack member, then. She smiled as she approached Cameron.

“Good afternoon, miss,” she said. “Can you follow me? I’ve got an exam room set up.”

“Uh, sure. Yeah,” Cameron said, and followed.

Ollie and I fell in behind. We’d barely gone ten feet before the nurse spun around and glared at Ollie.

“I’ve got this. No need for bodyguards,” she said, putting a hand on Ollie’s chest to hold him back.

Ollie scowled down at her hand. “She’s under my protection. I should be with her the whole time. It’s procedure.”

“We’ll be five feet away behind a door,” the nurse said with a placating smile.

Grumbling under his breath, Ollie nodded and stepped back.

Cameron was sitting on the exam table, worrying her lip between her teeth as the nurse stepped into the room.

I caught her eye and winked. An embarrassed smile flashed across her face, and she blushed.

Cute. It was even cuter when she realized what she’d done and lowered her head, obviously mortified.

I grinned, but then the nurse closed the door.

Ollie began to pace, and I leaned back, one booted foot up on the wall.

I didn’t show my tension the way Ollie did.

His nerves were shot, not only from Cameron’s unrelenting questions, but because he was genuinely worried.

If we were right, then things would look very bad indeed.

Especially since it had happened in Ollie’s pack territory.

“So, what’s the play?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” Ollie asked, pausing his constant pacing.

I rolled my eyes and pointed at the exam room. “What happens next?”

“Oh. She’s going to take a blood sample.

I’ll take that to the pack doctor. I’ll need a shifter to check it to be sure.

That’s why I got Remona,” he said, nodding toward the door.

“She’s part of the pack. JC called her earlier, told her to expect us.

I gave her a basic rundown so she knows how important this is. ”

“I figured,” I said. “She looks like the pack type.”

“What the hell does that mean, Nate?” Ollie sounded more exhausted than offended.

“You know what it means. The type who likes to settle down, live in the same place with the same people their whole lives. Always knowing what the next day will bring. That type.”

Ollie scoffed and shook his head as he leaned against the opposite wall. “You do know that what you just described is what most people wish for their whole lives?”

I gave him an unconcerned shrug. “Seems boring to me. Like waking up next to the same face every morning. Where’s the excitement in that?”

“Jesus, you’re never going to change, are you? A fucking wild spirit forever and ever, huh?”

I smirked. “You know it, baby.” I nodded toward the door. “Now, back to business. What’s going to happen after this?”

“The pack doctor will test it. He’s the only one who knows what to look for.”

“True,” I acknowledged.

Human and shifter blood looked exactly the same to most people.

In fact, no one could tell the difference unless they knew exactly what to look for.

A human doctor or lab technician would never see anything strange in a shifter’s blood because they wouldn’t be looking for specific genetic markers.

If you didn’t know to search for the single genetic marker, you’d never find it.

Most scientists and geneticists believed the marker was a piece of junk DNA.

But if you had that marker, you were a shifter. If not? You were human.