Feral Craving (4 page)

Mike’s hands tightened on the arm of the
chair as he braced himself visibly. Bari frowned for a moment, and then sighed.
Damn it … he had a feeling he knew, a deep, dark, dreaded feeling he knew.

Chapter
Three

Mackenzie lifted her head and grinned as
Bethany entered the shop. Her short, shoulder length bob lay straight, the
blonde strands cut around her face, blending with the classic features of a
straight nose, delicate jaw, and bright hazel eyes. As Bethany glanced up at
her, something besides the beautiful color sat in her eyes. Anticipation maybe?
Mackenzie, openly jealous of Beth’s hair, resisted the urge to check her own
unruly curls. They drove her insane and frizzed out of control at the smallest
hint of humidity. She kept the long dark strands often held back in a ponytail.
It wasn’t as if she were trying to impress anyone, was it?

Bethany strolled up to the counter, and
Mackenzie popped a brow at the restrained excitement on her face. She blinked
in surprise as Bethany jumped up on the stool and slapped her bag down. She
could see the words hovering right behind Bethany’s lips, the barely repressed
secret bubbling up.

“You look,” Mackenzie paused and grinned,
“excited.” She leaned forward, pushing the towel she rubbed the counter with to
the side. Her smile died as Beth’s own excitement faltered. Almost like
watching the seasons change, her friend’s face wavered in a blink of an eye.
Mackenzie followed suit and frowned, then reached across the counter and
grabbed her friend’s hands.

“What’s happened, Beth?”

“I think you need to sit down, Mac.”

“I don’t want to sit. What happened? Is
it Alex?” A sliver a fear trilled up her spine. Her twin brother was the town’s
deputy and while Nantucket didn’t have a high crime rate, he still dealt with
the worst offenders in the area, making it a scary job. Bethany would have the
knowledge of such injuries, seeing as she worked at the hospital.

Bethany shook her head. “No, it’s not
Alex.”

Another deep sigh from Bethany had
Mackenzie asking, “Then what is it? Why do you look as if a ghost just walked
past you?”

“Because, in a way, one has.”

Mackenzie shook her head in confusion.
She squeezed Bethany’s hand in encouragement. It was like pulling nails out of
wood to get her to the point. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Beth.”

Bethany shifted in her chair. “I don’t
want you to freak out. Matter of fact, I want you to remember who you are and
what a great life you’ve built for you and Byron here.”

“Okay…”

“Well,” Bethany visibly swallowed,
“there’s a group of Rangers who have been hanging around the hospital
recently.” Her friend glanced away and shrugged. “Not anything new, mind you.
But it seems as though someone has returned home.”

Mackenzie’s eyes widened, as a certain
thought slithered across her mind. Small town of Nantucket, there weren’t too
many choices she had to sort through in order to figure out who returned. Her
heart slammed into her rib cage, and her stomach swirled as old pains rose to
the surface. She drew in a deep breath, let it out and pressed a hand to the
vortex of emotions settling in her gut. Despite his obvious reluctance, the
cast off and dismissal, she followed exactly what a certain ranger had been up
to.

“Are you sure?”

Bethany nodded and reached out to take
Mackenzie’s shaking hand. “A few weeks ago his team was attacked in Iraq. Said
it was during some mission where they had been trying to track some weapons
being smuggled across the border. The team searched the house and not finding
anything initially, relaxed their guard. As they were leaving, someone stepped
out and shot Bari.”

The air pushed out from Mackenzie’s lungs
in a rush, her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings.

Bethany went on. “His team got him out of
there and from what I hear, it was quite the fight getting away. They’d been
surrounded for hours, pushed into a ravine, and had to keep the fighters off of
them while waiting for rescue to move in. The whole time they worked to keep
Bari alert and from bleeding out.” A hand wrapped around Mackenzie’s, and she
glanced down as if looking from an out of body experience. “I’m so sorry, Mac.
I know it’s a lot to take in but please, if anything, understand that I think
he’s going to be alright.”

Memories swamped Mackenzie and threatened
to break through the carefully erected wall she’d set up. She tore her hand
from Bethany’s and leaned up against the counter behind her. Thank God the shop
was empty. Panic caused her pulse to spike, and a phantom pain pierced just
over her heart. She cursed and closed her eyes, urged her racing heartbeat to
slow. Bari was home. Her Bari, the one who had walked out of her life without
so much as a goodbye nine years ago. Her best friend, the one she had handed
her heart and body to. Bari, the one she thought of time and time again, always
wondering how he was doing, where he was, if he thought of her too. Crossing
her arms across her chest, she stared at her friend, trying like hell to get
under control. This couldn’t be happening. She’d worked too hard for too long
to try to forget.

While she worked hard to keep the
hardened shell in place, another part of her immediately clung to something she
didn’t realize she had. She couldn’t help the flip in her stomach or the sudden
hope flying through her veins. Bari was in town, only minutes away at the
hospital. She didn’t want to admit it, but she wasn’t strong enough to stay
away.

Chapter
Four

Bari groaned, shifted
his body. He was struck with a softness that seemed so out place from where he
normally slept. The bed he was lying in felt so much better than the cots the
Army handed out, or even the sleeping bags issued. No amount of padding on
those things could ever compare to a real mattress. Blinking his eyes open, he
looked around and was hit with a sense of déjà vu.

“Fuck me … not again.”

Memories flooded back at
once. Bari snapped his head to the side, a little too fast if his spinning head
was any indicator. The chair next to the bed was empty. Mike must have listened
and gone off to do something else other than hound him all day. He knew Mike
meant no harm, was feeding into his own guilt, but he didn’t like to be hovered
over. He needed time to think, to wrap his mind around what happened, what he
was going to do. He needed to try to find out why in the hell his team had
brought him home, or even better yet, what the hell he was going to do about
it.

His body still throbbed,
but the pain was less. His head was clearer than the last time he had been
awake. Bari had been drifting in and out of consciousness but didn’t know for
how long. Slowly, he moved each of his limbs, testing them, identifying what he
could and couldn’t do. A Ranger never let his guard down, always held stock in
what his body said and right now, all his said was it’d hardly be able to hit
the crapper if needed. He dropped his head back to the pillow and stared up at
the ceiling, frustration clawing at him.

A sound from the door
clicked, and Bari snapped his head up again. “Christ!” His vision swam once
more, and he ground his teeth together.

“Bethany, so it was
you.”

Her hair was still
short, the strands barely brushing her shoulders. Her eyes held more knowledge
and age in them than should be possible for her twenty-seven years. His gaze
trailed down her athletic, curvy body. Falling from her shoulders was the drape
of a white coat. He snapped his gaze back up and saw her eyes narrow.

“If you’re done taking
inventory, Sergeant Daxter,” she drawled as she stepped inside the room. “I’m
surprised you remember what happened last time you were lucid. You had a lot of
drugs pumping through you. How are you feeling?”

The coldness in her
voice whipped across his skin like an Alaskan wind. Bari watched her with
caution as she studied his chart. “Better than a few days ago. Where am I?”

She lifted inquisitive
eyes up to meet his. “You gave us quite a scare.” Her pen rapped against the
chart. “You’re in a hospital in Nantucket. In all honesty, I’m surprised you
had the balls to come home, or even why you bothered. With how fast you managed
to get out of here, I expected to never see you again. But then again, I knew
it wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of you.”

He cringed at her harsh
words and fought the urge to lash out at her. “Jesus, nine years is a long
time, and you’re pissed because I left? Don’t hold back now, why don’t you just
tell it how it is, Beth…”
 

“I intend to and just
did, Bari.” She practically spat his name and then drew in a visible breath.
“Your body suffered some damage, Sgt. Daxter, two gunshot wounds, one that hit
your kidney. And yet, you sit here, a week later, seemingly recovering at a
pace I’ve never seen before.” Her brows pulled down, narrowed and pinned him to
the bed. He briefly wondered if she’d ever consider signing up to do
interrogations. She was that good. “So fast, it seems, you fought off a kidney
infection before it even had a chance to do much more than raise your body
temperature.” Setting the chart on top of the bedside table, she tucked her
hands into the pockets of her smooth coat and kicked her chin up a notch. “I
need you to be straight with me, Bari. Something is going on with you. I can’t
get your blood type, your body is fighting off toxins at a rapid pace, and this
recovery rate is nothing short of a miracle. As your doctor, I need to know
what the military has done to you.”

He laughed at her
question, couldn’t help it.
Well shit, Bari,
you want to go to Disneyland next? What the fuck else can go wrong?
Bewilderment
and confusion set in. He tried to process her inquiry. He suspected something
was going on with him but didn’t know exactly what. Whatever it was, he was
almost certain it had nothing to do with the military. Clenching his fist under
the sheet, he felt the distinct tug of the IV on his hand.

“The military hasn’t
done anything, Beth. I don’t have any clue on any of what you just said. I’ve
always recovered from injuries faster than others. My mother never questioned
it. Now…” Releasing the fist, he took his hand out and gripped the top of the
sheet, flinging it off to the side. His eyes tracked over the length of his
body, cringing at the blue gown that left hardly anything to the imagination.

“Doc, why don’t you tell
me when I can get out of here?” Rotating his legs off the side of the bed, he
flexed his toes, testing, trying to feel them. Miracle recovery, his ass; he
grappled with weakness.
Because you’re
invisible, asshole; that’s it. Come on, try it, get up and let’s watch you fall
again or better yet, fall on your face again.
Bari scowled at the voice in
his head.

Bari watched from the
corner of his eye as Bethany stepped forward. “Just what in the hell do you
think you are doing? You need to rest! You were shot six days ago, Bari. Your
body isn’t ready.”

He ignored her and slid
off the bed, his feet touching the cool ground with ease. He pushed off,
settling his weight. Pain and dizziness gripped him, sending a lightning bolt
of pure agony through his veins. It felt like shards of glass working their way
from his feet, up his legs, and into his stomach. It was there the pain
festered, grew, and started to boil. He heard Beth’s continued shouts, but he
focused on the pain and grunted beneath his breath.

“I see you’re ever still
the genius, Bari.” Her voice was closer. “Why do I even try with you?”

“Fuck…” His voice came
out hoarse with pain. “What the hell, Doc?” His entire body went rigid as pain
burst in his stomach like a bomb, spreading out through his limbs and shooting
straight for his heart. The organ responded by quickening in beat, the sound of
it thundering. He stumbled to the bathroom as nausea rose.

 
Bari entered the small room and lurched for
the sink, kicking the door shut behind him. Pain tore through his skull, as if
shards of glass filled his head, and he swore he could literally feel things
moving around behind his eyes, under his skin. The entire thing freaked him
out. Catching the sink, he held his weight and glanced up to the mirror. His
breath heaved in and out of his lungs as he caught the image staring back at
him. The pupils widened as he watched, completely covering his ice blue eyes.
He watched in horror, as the color continued outward, bursting like an
overfilled dam and encompassing the entire white of his sclera. The color
called for the deepest and darkest part of black, an emptiness that seemed to
go on forever. Right in the middle of those dark orbs was the smallest pinpoint
of white. Light, pure and unadulterated, poured from those points. He leaned in
to the mirror; his eyes roamed over his skin, watching as it turned from the
color of creamed coffee into a bluish tint, his veins standing out in stark red
relief against the surface. His breath caught as pain pierced his skull with
intensity unlike anything he had ever apperceived.

He grabbed his head and dug his fingers
into his skull, trying to pull the pain out. An anguished cry burned up the
back of his throat and out of his mouth as he turned and leaned against the
wall. Distantly he heard Beth pounding on his door, but he couldn’t answer. His
body doubled over, stomach cramping under the force of the nausea and still,
his beating heart thundered on. The beat began to throb in his vision, his
eyesight sharpening, picking up new colors and small motes of dust in the air.