Page 11 of Wolf Bane (Marked #3)

Chapter Four

M y shift at the clinic started bad and got worse.

Already dragging ass from the long night at Tyler’s, I was half an hour late getting to work and got off on the wrong foot with a new patient who was less than thrilled about my stance on vaccinations (always) and my refusal to entertain the idea that, just maybe, taking unadulterated belladonna instead of heart medication was a good idea.

Things only went downhill from there, the schedule being off kilter and several patients, who already felt miserable to start with, snapping and snarling (rightfully so, to be honest) at being delayed.

We pushed through, Reba’s pleasant smile never faltering even though I could tell she wanted to throttle me for causing the mess, and my apology muscles getting a workout.

We finally caught up just after noon, working through the usual lunch break, and by the time I was able to take a five-minute breather in my office, the afternoon looked like easier sailing.

When I emerged, slightly refreshed and very caffeinated, Reba was signing in a patient, a confused-looking woman about my age with her dark hair in a very swoopy side ponytail and a surplus of green eye shadow.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a psychiatrist on staff,” Reba was saying so patiently I knew she was repeating herself. “And I don’t see your name on the schedule for today. You said your last name was Perrin?”

“Doctor Babin?” the woman said, leaning past Reba to catch my attention. “I’m Gina Perrin.”

“Hi. Reba will make sure you’re all checked in and I’ll see you soon.

” I offered her a tight smile and motioned to the bright green and white ICW sample box.

“I need you to send a message to their contact person that we have a sample to pick up this evening, and I need their contact person to call me.”

Reba, visibly flustered between Gina Perrin trying to get my attention past her, my request, and everything else going on, threw up her hands. “Sure! I’ll add it to my list!”

“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “This office would collapse around my ears without you, Reba. You’re a godsend.”

She snorted but seemed to smile a little bit at that. “Well. I am that.” She nudged the tin on her desk towards me. “Just for that, you can have the bourbon brittle.”

“Ooooh, fancy!” I crunched into it—it really was delicious—and made a mental note to get more floss on the way home. “Did I see Mr. Robards is in room three?”

“I worked him in this morning. He called, sounded really in need.”

“On it. How’s the afternoon look?”

“Better than this morning.” She glanced at Gina Perrin. “I’m sorry, we’re not taking walk-ins.”

Gina Perrin made an annoyed sound at the back of her throat. “Listen, I’m not here to see Doctor Babin!”

“Then you’re in the wrong place, hon,” Reba said, more vinegar than honey, as I slipped back to the exam room.

* * *

Eustace Robards was not his usual chatty self.

Headache, fever, nausea… all the signs pointed to an infection, but I wasn’t sure what kind.

Checking his wound, I saw it was healing well with no signs of pus or redness which was a relief and a half.

He let me draw blood and just nodded when I told him it’d take a day or two for the results to get back from the lab, but I’d put a rush on it since he was my favorite.

Not even a hint of a smile.

“Okay, Mr. Robards, we’re going to give you a course of antibiotics just to be on the safe side, and I want you to come back in a week so I can check the wound again and follow up on whatever we find in the blood work. And in the meantime, if the bite gets hot, or red or… Mr. Robards?”

He was staring into space, somewhere over my left shoulder, swaying gently as if the air conditioner’s breeze was buffeting him back and forth.

Eustace Robards made a gurgling noise, fingers twitching at his side before he brought them up to his chest, curling them into loose fists.

It reminded me of bodies I’d examined, how they curled up in death, limbs retracting as rigor set in, muscle stiffening as decomposition did its work.

He gurgled again, this time closer to words. “ Hhhhhhhg… hhhhhhk…”

I threw open the door. “Reba! Get in here! I need help!”

Without waiting, I laid Mr. Robards back, turning his head gently to one side in case he started to vomit or lost control of swallowing. The clack of Reba’s kitten heels preceded her appearance.

“Call 911. I think Mr. Robards is having a cardiac event, possibly a stroke.” Even as I spoke, he stilled, his body going stiff from head to toe. Then all air leaving him in a keening rush, his back bowing to a near impossible degree. “Shit!”

Everything happened in a blur. Reba shouted something, disappearing from the doorway. Further away, someone else called out, asking if I needed help. I ignored them, rapidly checking Mr. Robards’s pulse—too fast for me to easily count—and respiration.

“Mr. Robards, can you hear me right now?

The smell of wolf, of other, of wrongness that had been just a trace in the air fountained and washed over me in a sickening wave.

It stirred the otherness in me, pushing it forward.

Protect yourself, predator, enemy! My fingers splayed, the push of my bones creaking and nails thickening too fast to stop.

Saliva flooded my mouth, my jaw screaming in pain as my facial bones tried to move and reform themselves.

“No, no, no!” My voice was thick and slurred, teeth too long for my mouth. “Fuck!”

Mr. Robards twisted, arching away from me.

I scrambled to stop him from falling but I wasn’t fast enough.

He shocked me, though, landing on his feet, in a crouch, hands still near his chest but eyes bright now, breathing fast and face flushed.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” he panted, then screamed—no, howled —as his body cracked with change.

Mr. Robards was shifting, breaking, and shaping into a wolf. Not some strange half abomination like me, but a full-on wolf-form like Ethan, like Tyler.

Like no one else in the clinic.

I threw myself at the door, shoving it closed with my weight as he lurched, snarling, eyes wide, and scared.

As fast as the change had happened, it was unhappening, his body collapsing in on itself so fast I almost missed the shift.

One moment, he was a wolf, the next he was a naked, bleeding old man on my floor.

He shuddered, fingers spasming, nails thickening like mine had.

The wound on his leg was sluggishly bleeding, stitches burst, but the edges slowly coming together as his body struggled to heal.

“Doctor Babin! Doctor Babin, let me help! Open the door!”

It wasn’t Reba—I didn’t recognize the voice at all. “Go to the waiting area and sit down please,” I shouted. “This isn’t the time or place!”

“I know,” the woman said. “I know what’s happening.” She slapped her hand against the door on the other side.

Mr. Robards was breathing hard, his lips blue as his body shuddered and arched, trying to shift again.

“I really don’t think so,” I called back, dropping to my knees beside him. “Mr. Robards. I need you to stay calm, okay? And yes, I know that’s a dumbass statement to make.”

Frantically, I got to my feet and started rifling through the cabinets.

We didn’t keep any heavy-duty medication in the clinic.

No muscle relaxers, no steroids, nothing that was highly controlled.

Which meant I was shit out of luck—there was nothing I could give him to try and stave off his body trying to change, trying to push him through some of the most grueling and horrible experiences I could imagine.

The door behind me crashed open and Gina Perrin dropped to the floor beside Mr. Robards. “Is this new?” she demanded. “This looks out of his control. Doctor Babin, is this the first time?”

“I have no fucking clue.”

“What’s your nurse’s name? Rebecca?”

“Reba. And she’s not a nurse.” I joined her, holding on to Mr. Robards as his thrashing grew weaker but no less damaging.

Gina Perrin’s hand shot out, closing over my arm with inhuman strength to stop me still for a moment. “Does she… know?”

I shook my head.

“Right. It’s a seizure then?”

My laugh was thin and mirthless. “If that’s what it takes.”

“I called ICW.” She flashed me a tight, forced smile. “They’re the ones who sent me. I’m the new shrink for your clinic.”

Mr. Robards was shuddering, his thrashing reduced to weak flops of his arms, heaving ribs, and rolling eyes. And honestly, for just a few seconds, I wasn’t sure which was more of a problem, him apparently having a werewolf induced seizure or the fact ICW was sending more doctors my way.

She caught the torn expression on my face and offered me another small smile. “I told your, uh, receptionist? I told her I’d call 911. I called ICW instead. They should have someone out here within the hour.”

“Landry,” Reba fretted, her voice coming closer. “We have two patients coming in the next thirty minutes.”

“Cancel them. Reschedule,” I barked. “Please.”

Mr. Robards’ body rippled, and he sighed, going limp on the linoleum. Gina Perrin grasped my wrist tightly in her slim hand, giving it a shake. “Listen to me,” she whispered, voice harsh and fast. “Breathe, okay? We’ll get through this.”

“Jesus Christ, back off,” I snarled. Really snarled, not just like an affectation.

Whatever happened to Mr. Robards was damaging my calm in a big way, the werewolf part of me I’d only recently come to start thinking about accepting suddenly champing at the bit to get out.

Fuck me, why now? I spent four hours on Sunday trying to shift on demand and all I got was a rash and hangnails. Why am I doing this now?

Maybe Tyler’s theory was right—I needed the stress to be a trigger.

Goddammit.

Gina Perrin helped me put Mr. Robards in the recovery position before I grabbed a patient gown from the cupboard beneath the sink to cover him.

His clothes were a loss, right down to his socks.

“Who the hell does the ICW have nearby?” I demanded, keeping my voice down so Reba wouldn’t hear if she was coming back already.

“A plane landed earlier at DFW. They were on their way down this way already, to check up on things,” she said with a tense shrug. “Um. I guess you never got the message about me then?”

Reba’s clattering steps dragged me back to my feet, intercepting her before she could come in the room. “Oh my God, Landry, is he?—”

“He’s breathing. Pulse is thready but present,” Gina Perrin announced. “Seems to be getting stronger though.”

Reba nodded faintly. “I rescheduled your one and one forty-five,” she said, voice shaking.

“There were only a few people in the waiting room, but they left. Um, I’m going to start calling to reschedule…

” She eyed Mr. Robards on the floor, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she stared.

“Landry,” she said quietly. “I could’ve sworn I heard a…

a dog or something. A coyote? It was loud. That wasn’t him, was it?”

Gina Perrin made a face— coyote seemed to be an insult to many weres, don’t tell Mal or Mariska—but I shook my head before she could jump in.

“You definitely didn’t hear a coyote or a dog,” I said, only lying by omission.

“We’ve got this, Reba. When the, ah, medics get here, send them straight back. ”

Reba nodded, jaw clenched tight no doubt to hold back whatever stream of words she was dying to let loose. Instead, she hurried back up to the front and, a few minutes later, I heard her official phone voice as she started making calls to the patients who’d scattered.

“They were all weres. The ones in the waiting room,” Gina Perrin offered after a moment. “I could tell when I came in.”

“Then they likely knew what was happening,” I murmured. “Or could figure it out.”

“The howl gave it away,” she agreed, checking Mr. Robards’ pulse again. “A bit stronger.”

Quiet settled heavy and thick between us. After several small eternities, Mr. Robards stirred, groaning, and tried to sit up.

“Hold still there,” I urged, pressing back against his chest when he tried to move. “Something’s wrong and we’re going to help you, okay? We’re just waiting for some more folks to get here so you can go…” I eyed Gina Perrin.

“To a specialized urgent care,” she finished, giving me a wild-eyed shrug. “Somewhere they’ve seen this before.”

“Did I have a heart attack?” he groaned. “My body… Oh God,” he rasped, closing his eyes. “What’s going on?”

Low voices outside in the hallway cut across Reba’s protest. “Hopefully, we’re finding out soon,” I said. Gina Perrin stood with me, stepping back when I moved to greet whoever was coming our way.

It was a sweep of organized chaos. Two men in ill-fitting scrubs that still had crease marks swept in and one of them scooped Mr. Robards up bridal style. The other cornered me against the exam table and demanded a point-by-point recap of the entire event.

“How about we sit down in my office?” I shot back. “Get back here with him. Hey!”

Gina Perrin darted around the man carrying Mr. Robards to block the door. “I don’t think so, pumpkin. Who are you?”

“We’re here to see to the patient.” The man cornering me smiled. “That’s all.”

“Nope.” Gina Perrin bared her teeth. “Not until I talk to someone who can vouch for you.”

“You need to stand down,” the one with Mr. Robards snapped. “This isn’t some little game, lady. We have work to do here.”

“You have my patient.” I pushed past Overbearing and strode over to Bossy. “Put him on the exam table. Gina Perrin, go call.”

She nodded, shooting me a look before pulling her phone from her pocket. “If you move, I swear to God, I’ll bite you right on your ass,” she said to Bossy.

I shrugged when Overbearing glanced back at me. “I don’t know where you’ve been. I’ll just shank you with a scalpel.”

Not that I had any in the office. But he didn’t seem to know that.

A commotion in the front of the office, Reba’s startled shriek, then a familiar low rumble of a voice sent me on the world’s fastest roller coaster ride. Gina Perrin bristled—if her fur had been out, it’d have been standing straight up—but I waved her down.

“I know who that is,” I said, unable to stop my smile. “Ethan, we’re in room two!”

Ethan filled the doorway, forcing Gina Perrin to step closer to Bossy. “Davis, Kenner, put him down,” Ethan ordered the two weres. “We need to do this properly. Landry…” He turned a tired, fleetingly affectionate glance on me. “What the hell did you do?”