Highlander's Need: Winter Solestice (Against All Odds Series 4) Page 31

  The path to the large pair of doors appeared much longer than it actually was, but, eventually, they passed through without incident.

  “Thank God that went without a hitch,” a female nurse commented while she barred the door.

  Good thinking. That was smooth back there, but who knows what might happen if they get jumpy again. But she didn’t share the other nurse’s enthusiasm. Who knows what splendid sights, sounds and whatnot await tonight.

  “Alright, all of you, spread out! I want at least a pair of nurses on every one of these men until and after the surgeons arrive! I want you to continuously check their pulses, breathing, and sew up any minor lacerations. We need to keep as much blood in their bodies as we possibly can. If you find a laceration longer than an inch and a half, press down on it and wait for me or another doctor! Go!”

  Like drones in a well-maintained hive, the nurses went about their work. The sounds of wheels turning, sheets rolling and instruments clicking soon filled the room, treating the three surgeons who arrived moments later to the sight of a perfectly functioning ER ward. Claudia herself was just about to lend her assistance to Doc Addams when bad news started popping up all around.

  “Mine is gone!” a male nurse exclaimed, barely able to keep his eyes opened due to the copious amounts of sweat that dripped down from his forehead. “I need a doctor to confirm and call it!”

  “Me too!” Another one, this time a female, soon let her voice be heard. “These men’s injuries, they are even worse than they look!”

  And they look absolutely horrid.

  “Claudia, focus!” The Doc invited her to return her gaze to the wrapped figure that lay in front of them. The hospital sheet was completely red, and covered absolutely every part of the patient, including his face.

  Oh well, let’s see the newly recast Two-Face.

  Claudia steeled herself as she grabbed the sheet, expecting to witness a sight straight out of her worst nightmares. She always hated injuries to the face. Her own beautiful face was a treasure in its own right, and she couldn’t imagine what disfigurement might be like. With a forceful motion she pulled the cover clean off the patient, revealing something no one in the room expected: a perfectly intact—albeit blood-covered—attractive male. His body caught her attention first, but it was his face that gave her the biggest surprise: it was the man she had talked to when they’ve brought in the previous batch of D.O.A.s.

  What in the—? It’s that strange, hot guy!

  Caught completely off guard, Claudia had absolutely no idea what to think. She had even less of a concrete opinion when she (and the doctor as well, judging from his flabbergasted expression) realized that the man had no external injuries whatsoever. But he was covered in coagulated blood, which made it easy to mistake him for someone with actual injuries.

  Encrusted layers of dark crimson lay embedded in every exquisite canyon between the man’s immaculately sculpted muscles. If it were not so grotesque it might even have even been hot, in a bizarre sort of way. Without thinking, she ran her hand across his abs, slowly feeling her way toward the middle of his chest. He was breathing evenly, and his heart was beating the way a healthy heart should.

  He’s… completely alright. The fact disturbed her to no end. Everyone else had been slashed, ruptured and torn beyond recognition, but here was this man, apparently in perfect health.

  And his health is not all that’s perfect about him.

  Although she hated herself for thinking that way in a situation like this, Claudia simply couldn’t resist. There was something about the man, apparent even though he was unconscious. It was too primal to categorize, but she could feel it none the less.

  “Care to remove your hand so that I can check the rhythm of his breathing myself, Claudia?” the Doc finally said, preventing her from making an even bigger fool of herself.

  “Oh, yeah, sure,” Claudia replied as she drew her arm back to her curvaceous side. As she did so, she could feel the hot waves of redness as they slowly expanded over her cheeks.

  Completely ignoring her change of color, Doc Addams proceeded to feel around the man’s solar plexus. “This is... this is surprisingly good. Great, actually.” He carefully traced his fingers across the patient’s body. “There are no external signs of injury at all,” he concluded as he stepped away from the surgical table. “What is the situation on your end?” the Doc asked calmly, but in such a way that everyone in the room clearly heard and understood.

  “Zero survivors!” one of the doctors responded, more annoyed than saddened.

  “They were torn up in such a way that saving them was absolutely impossible, yet the thing didn’t finish them off. Instead, they’ve been left to die in pain!” another one added. “The agony they must have endured before death; I can’t even imagine it!”

  But… why would an animal do something like that? Still surprised by the healthy patient near her, Claudia found herself staring blankly into space while the doctors’ words sank in. Suddenly, some of the crazier ideas from earlier didn’t seem all that impossible.

  “That… that’s the same thing that happened the last time,” Doc Addams responded thoughtfully. “I assume that you all know just how likely that is with animal attacks, right? Twice in a row, especially.”

  “Somewhere between nothing and zero,” a female doctor responded, deadpan.

  “Exactly, my dear colleague,” Doc Addams answered as he moved around the room. “But how would you rate our odds of finding a survivor among these people?” He paused for a moment, timing his interruption to just when the other doctor was about to speak. He allowed a thin little smile to grace the edges of his lips. “Because I’ve got one here, and he is as healthy as you or me.” “Well, maybe not as me,” he finished, now smiling a bit more overtly.

  At first, his colleagues merely stared at the Doc and the man who lay on the gurney behind him in disbelief. Then, having noticed the slow movements of the patient’s chest, all three of them rushed toward the table. Caught up in their professional and personal curiosities, they almost pushed the older doctor to the side.

  The following night

  I couldn’t sleep a wink.

  Thoughts raced through Claudia’s head as she stuffed her ample backside into the tight white skirt of her nurse’s uniform. Who the hell was that man last night? She zipped the skirt up hurriedly, eager to get on to the next part. Why in the world was that man unharmed? With careful movements (so as not to rip it) she put her hands through the sleeves of her white blouse. They said that he woke up. She zipped the top completely, barely managing to get it to cover her spilling cleavage. But they also say that he can’t remember anything. Finally, she took her white hat and perched it on her head, completing the outfit. As she made her way out of the dressing room, Claudia took a moment to observe herself in the mirror.

  Not bad at all. She commented on the display she made. Her curvy, voluptuous figure had been shaped by the tight clothes into something straight out of a fetish magazine. Her overwhelmingly large chest and hips practically competed for attention, but what really stole the show was her face. Normally very pretty in an unassuming way, with the assistance of a thin layer of make-up expertly applied, her visage became simply astonishing. All it took was a light amount of eye-shadow and a bit of red lipstick, and she became a shining image of exaggerated femininity.

  Let’s see if this will refresh his memory, she thought as she exited the room, looking forward to her impending talk with the handsome new patient.

  As she walked down the corridor, it was apparent that everyone noticed her appearance. Heads turned and people stared as she made her way toward the room that she’d been told contained the blond man. They said they’ve identified him as Dillon Myers, a small business owner. Hardly a dangerous profession. The only trait he shared with the other, deceased men was a well-honed physique. Beyond that, the similarities ended.

  “Excuse me, madam, but I think you’ve got the wrong room.” Lost within her own
internal monologue, Claudia almost failed to notice the pair of policemen who stood watch on each side of the door until she was right on top of them. “I heard they throw wicked parties on the floor above, though. You should give it a shot there, I think,” the guard finished, all while eyeing Claudia’s body from head to toe. The other one said nothing, although he stared just as much, if not more.

  Why are guards in front of—? Ah, I get it, he’s probably a suspect! Despite the ridiculousness of the idea (given Dillon’s lack of teeth and claws capable of tearing all those men apart), Claudia knew better than to antagonize the policemen while they did their duty. As far as I know, they may well consider the idea as ridiculous as I do.

  “I am here to check out the patient,” she replied, showing them her best smile.

  “Hasn’t he already been checked out?” The policeman responded, gazing at everything other than her lips. “A Doctor Grayson came by about half an hour ago, said everything was in perfect order.”

  “Yes. Yes, he was. This one is personal, you see. As a matter of fact, I was the nurse who found him last night, and it would really mean a lot to me if you would just let me see him.”

  The cops exchanged looks, then turned back toward her, clearly expecting her to say something more.

  “They were all dead, you see,” Claudia continued, now having chosen the card she would play. “Every single victim of the animal attacks had died. Except him. With that and the ever-increasing influx of new patients, hospital morale is low. My morale is low. Seeing a survivor would really help, you know?” She finished her story with a wink, standing in such a way that it appeared as if it was dedicated to both of them.

  “Well, now,” the guard said, smiling. “I don’t see a reason why we should deny a pretty girl like you a little dose of morale.” The other man didn’t speak, but smiled anyway. “Go in, pretty lady. Just make sure to be careful, just in case he actually did do it.” The guard couldn’t help but laugh as he spoke.

  And they say that policemen are stupid.

  Pleased that her plan had worked, Claudia passed by the cops and opened the door slowly, as if she were unpacking a present. Then, in a single mincing motion, she stepped in and shut the door behind her, mentally preparing for another glimpse of the Adonis she’d seen last night.

  The room was small, as were they all in this part of the hospital. Near the wall opposite the door was a single bed, and in it lay Dillon. Elbows outstretched, palms resting behind his head, he was covered only from the waist down. His chest and stomach were bare, representing a vision of masculine beauty. Now that he had been cleaned up, the golden shade of his hair was clearly visible, and it dropped down to the base of his neck, accentuating his regally elongated face. His crystal blue eyes had already been open when she came in, and her arrival was greeted with the raising of an eyebrow and a slight grin at the sides of his mouth.

  “Well, well, look at the angel that just flew in,” he commented in a voice that sounded like a subdued roar.

  “You don’t look too bad yourself, Mr. Myers,” Claudia retorted as she neared the bed, her every move causing her assets to jiggle. Slowly, she grabbed a small chair and put it next to the bed. It was reinforced, or else it would have been risky for her to use. Which doesn’t make it any more comfortable, she thought as she sat down.

  “You look especially good, considering the shape of all those people you were found with,” she said, pressing her point before Dillon had the chance to respond. “Mind telling me what your secret might be?”

  “I’d like to say ‘eating well and lots of exercise,’ but then that would be lying.” He grinned as he spoke, his head still resting back on his hands. “Truth is, not everyone can be me, which is a good thing, right? After all, too much of a high quality good tends to devalue it, don’t you think?”

  Now that’s just pushing it. I mean he’s hot, but damn!

  “So you’re telling me that you’ve survived the massacre by… being way too high quality to be grievously injured? And you also have no idea what happened out there, right?” While in the middle of her sentence Claudia realized that she’d forgotten to smile, so she rectified her mistake immediately. I just hope I don’t come off as too hostile.

  “That explanation, however unlikely, would make as much sense as anything else I can give you at the moment. As I’ve told the detective just a little while ago, I was at my office, doing some late-night work, when—“

  “That’s where the men were found, right? In your office, stacked around you and dying horribly, all mangled beyond repair? Please correct me if I’m wrong.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told, anyway. I… I’m afraid I can’t help you, erm, what did you say your name was?” His expression changed from contemplative to inquisitive within a split second.

  “I didn’t, handsome. I am Claudia Chase. In case it’s not obvious, I’m a nurse here. I’m the one who found out you were still alive last night.”

  “So it was you whose hand I felt through the fog, feeling around my six-pack?” Dillon appeared genuinely interested now. “It was the only thing I remember from the time I spent unconscious, and let me tell you, you have an extraordinary touch, Claudia.”

  “Th-thank you,” she forced herself to reply, well aware of the heat that expanded through her cheeks. At the same time, down between her legs, an entirely different sort of heat started expanding.

  “I’d like to feel it again someday,” he continued, obviously intrigued by her reaction to his compliment.

  Yeah, I’d like you to feel it right now, hotness. But the guards and the rest of the staff are so, so close…

  “I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement, Dillon,” Claudia responded after a couple of seconds of silence, having just barely managed to pull herself out of her own private world. “Right now, however, something like that would be difficult, with the policemen outside your door and whatnot.”

  Please don’t take this the wrong way. I am very, very interested in everything you have to offer.

  “Yeah, about that… is there a chance for me to slip away from this place? You know, somehow circumvent the police and just be allowed to go home? I don’t feel sick at all, and I could really use my own bed.”

  “Hmmmm… and why would you want to do that?” Again, her expression changed, but this time she didn’t try to put her smile back on. Then she realized something. He knows far more than he’s letting on. Out of nowhere, her hands started shivering. Her thinly plucked brows furrowed as she stared into those blue eyes. What if he really is the killer of all those men? But how did he do it, then? Did he train a deadly animal, perhaps? I just know that he is hiding something! She observed him carefully, now ready to run at the faintest sudden movement of his.

  “If you saw my bed up close and personal, you’d know exactly what I mean, Claudia,” he finally said, adding some additional oomph to that statement by the presentation of that dazzling set of teeth he liked to show.

  Even though she knew that something was wrong, Claudia realized that she was still not immune to this man’s charm. At the mere thought of being invited into his bedroom, she felt the moisture trickle down her leg, easily escaping the prison of her panties.

  “I…” She didn’t know what to say. Her better judgment was being obscured by the desires of her body. She might even have said yes, had Dillon’s expression not changed in that second.

  “Back off toward the door, and stand in a corner,” he said all of a sudden, his face an expressionless mask. “Whatever happens, don’t interfere.”

  What the hell is he talking about?

  A couple of muffled sounds could be heard from the other side of the door, followed by two dull thuds. Not having any idea what was going on, Claudia did what Dillon said—not out of trust, but more out of sheer survival instinct.

  With a sudden great force, the door caved in to the sounds of screaming and running from the corridor. Within less than a second, a total of four people were
inside. They were all men, tall and well built, a fact that was evident even though they wore long coats. Every single intruder held a silenced pistol, holding it firmly and aiming at Dillon’s forehead.

  “You guys really don’t let up, do you? Can’t a man rest in peace?” he growled out, his voice possessed of an almost animalistic quality.

  “A man can indeed rest, monster,” said the smallest member of the group, a clean-shaven dark man of some six feet. “But we all know that you’re not one now, are you?”

  Instead of responding, Dillon started twitching. His body, extremely ripped to begin with, now appeared even more muscled than before. Just as Claudia noticed this, the first shot hit him in the neck.

  Mercilessly, the men proceeded to unload their clips into the developing bloody mess that used to be Dillon’s body. Claudia’s legs went numb, and she had difficulty accepting that the sight before her eyes was actually real.

  They’re killing him! she screamed inside, unable to find her voice. He was a patient at her hospital, and these, these men just flat out came in and started shooting him. Her fist clenched, as of its own mind. She felt the painted nails bite into her skin. She took a step backward. They are obviously here for him for a reason. They won’t touch me. Then, she ran forward.

  Just like dispersing a crowd full of sick people, she told herself.

  The impact was painful, but she knew that the others felt much worse than she did. Luckily, they’d all stopped firing when she was a foot or so away, otherwise who knows what might have happened to her. The man in the middle took the brunt of it, hitting his head on the side of the door with a horrible crunching sound. The others merely fell around her like dominoes, shoved through the door to the outside of poor Dillon’s room.

  Having fallen to the floor in the doorway, Claudia noticed something very strange about it: it was warm. Warm and wet.

  Oh, no.

  The bodies of the two policemen that had let her in lay around the door, their eyes dead and wide, while blood still trickled out of their head wounds. Three of the mysterious armed men were back on their feet within seconds, while the one who hit his head didn’t move any more.