The Patient Is a Shark [Shape-Shifter Clinic 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (11 page)

“Yes, sending that man to meet us at the airport, that indicated concern all right. So did giving us those special business cards so we can call for help.” Rainer frowned. He really hoped the wolves were working on the problem. It was weird that George knew about Wynter. Really weird. The wolves seemed to think he’d bugged their phone, but that was a pretty far-fetched idea. More likely some friend of his had told him. “Is George a wolf, too?” he asked.

Wynter was leaning back on her pillow, nibbling her corncob. Every now and then she almost panicked, worrying that somehow the clinic wouldn’t be there when she arrived, that George would have succeeded in taking back the land and closing it down. Or that the attorney would be wrong and it had never belonged to Dr. Thorne at all. That she would have come all this way and still couldn’t have the operation she needed.

She was going to be in a real mess if that happened. No longer near the ocean to swim every day, with no money and no job—she’d go mad if she had to think about that. There was no hope for her at all.

Guilt stabbed through her. What about all the people who worked there, those who had given all their time and energy to help people like her.
I’m so selfish! I could manage somehow or other. I’d survive. What about all those other people?

Wynter sat up straighter when Rainer asked his question. She’d never even thought about whether or not George Thorne was a wolf. She’d just assumed because Oscar was a werewolf shape-shifter that George would be one, too. But that was crazy. They were cousins, not brothers.

“How silly of me. I’ve always just assumed he was. Is he, Quinn?”

“Isn’t that the joke about the word
assume
? It makes an
ass
out of
u
and
me
? I have no idea either. It’s never occurred to me to ask anyone. If we were at work I’d ask Ambrielle, but I don’t like to text her such a frivolous question.”

“Maybe the wolves where we’re to stay tonight will know?” Rainer suggested.

“Yes, but that’s the same problem. It’s just idle curiosity to ask, not really our business, is it?”

“No, you can ask. George Thorne has interfered in your life, so it’s only fair that you should know whether he’s a human or a shape-shifter,” said Quinn firmly.

Wynter smiled to herself.
That’s the Dom in him taking charge.
She liked the way he took control of things sometimes. He was never arrogant, although there was the underlying idea he knew what he was doing. But it was more he wanted to make life easier for her. And she liked that about him. About both of them. They were wonderful companions. She was really being totally spoiled on this journey.

But that didn’t take away her fears. The underlying questions were still there, still as real as ever. Why did George Thorne believe the clinic should belong to him? Why was he telling her she shouldn’t go there? Why her? Did he know something about her? Was he even telling the truth? Was crossing the country with these men the wrong thing to do after all? Was it possible George was correct and she should have stayed at home in California and patiently saved her money for this operation?
Saved money how, when I can’t even stand up properly, let alone work?

Wynter looked down at the bags of food surrounding her. It was more food than she’d seen in a month, and it was only meant to last the three of them for one very long day.
Actually I have no choice. If I want to be healed, this clinic is my only option. I have to trust that they’re in the right and George Thorne is in urgent need of a mental-health assessment.

* * * *

After they’d finished eating, Wynter tidied up the containers of food and put in the rubbish in a plastic bag. Then she stretched out properly on the backseat and made herself comfortable again. That was one of the advantages of being five foot four. She actually fit quite well on the seat. If she’d been as tall as either of the men she wouldn’t have.

“Rainer, how long have you known about shape-shifters? I’ve never met another shark, although my father has.”

“I’d never heard about sharks either until Oscar said you were a shark, but there was a boy at school who I was sort of friends with. He stayed by himself a lot and wasn’t really with any of the in-crowds, neither a nerd nor a jock. We used to talk to each other in class sometimes, were partners in chemistry for a year, and got on okay together. Then one day some kids were teasing him and called him a lone wolf. He really snarled. I mean, like a dog snarls, or a wolf, and he screamed out, ‘I’m not a lone wolf, I have a pack,’ and then he ran away. I thought about that all night, and I think I must have guessed over time just from knowing him that he was a paranormal because it seemed to fall into place quite logically that he was a wolf. We stayed friends until the end of the school year, then he left.”

Wynter was nodding to herself as he spoke. “I think that friend of yours was like my father. When my dad gets angry the shark shows through in his face and his attitudes. That’s why we left so many places all through my childhood, and why my parents are still moving from place to place. It’s also why I never ever allow myself to get really angry.”

“Does your shark show when you’re annoyed?” asked Quinn.

“I don’t know. If I’m really cross I’m hardly going to be looking in the mirror right then, am I?”

“Probably not,” agreed Quinn.

“What about you, Quinn? When did you find out about shape-shifters? It’s difficult for me to comprehend a clinic full of people who know about shape-shifters when I’ve lived my entire life hiding that side of myself.”

“The patients are all shape-shifters, and most of the original staff was, too, but there’s a group of humans there as well now. The first was Ambrielle, who’s partnered with Oscar and Danny Davies, the clinic carpenter. You’ve heard us talk about her. She’s the office administrator.”

“Yes, she’s the one who e-mailed me with the travel details. And you didn’t answer the question.”

“I’m getting there. I’d say maybe one third of the staff is human, the rest are shape-shifters and most of them are wolves. Most of the patients are wolves, too. But that may simply be because Oscar is a wolf and has links to the wolf packs. Harry’s a bear.”

Wynter paused to think for a moment. Yes, she had heard that Ambrielle was partnered to two men, and she thought she may have heard the name Harry, but this was all very interesting to hear again. Of course, the most interesting thing of all was the fact that Quinn had still not answered her question. Oh, he’d chattered away on the topic, but he’d talked about the clinic, not himself. And she’d really love to know why. But she didn’t think she should push him any further to answer her question. She did still have some manners after all.

She had so many things to think about. First, why was she so attracted to the men? She was like some hormonal teenager only interested in getting into their pants at every opportunity she could get. Yes, she could blame the pain medication, yes, their scents were extremely attractive, and yes, it’d been a damn long time since there’d been a man in her life. But that wasn’t really the whole story. She wasn’t a slut or a harlot. She wasn’t the kind of person to jump into bed with the first available deliciously yummy man. So why was she doing it? And why would she do it again tonight?

Second, there was the whole worrying situation about the clinic and whether or not she’d be safe there if George really was determined to close it down. She felt so helpless not knowing what she could do to ensure they arrived safely, that she had the surgery, that she’d be healed, and that the clinic would be safe to continue healing other shape-shifters.

And finally, what would the future bring? Would she be able to work to pay off her debt of honor to these people? Should she come back to the coast she knew or make a new home in Ohio? And if she did stay there, how would she swim in winter? Didn’t the lakes ice over up there? How could she deal with that?

* * * *

After they’d stopped for gas the second time, Rainer had driven for a while so Quinn could rest. He’d napped for an hour or so, but mostly he’d thought about Wynter and his determination to get them into a proper bedroom scene tonight. He couldn’t understand why he wanted her so much. She was beautiful in face, figure, character, and determination, but he’d met other women like that. None had called to him they way she did. He was beginning to think about how he could take her back to his farm to recuperate after her operation.

She swam happily in four feet of water in the swimming pool last night, although she’d said she preferred to be deeper. His little lake was around four feet deep except at the end with the pump. There it was more like six, seven if it was completely full. He’d already hired a Bobcat digger to make it deeper for his horses and one of his dogs, a Great Dane. But he could hire it again and easily excavate it another couple feet for his shark to swim in.

Quinn grinned to himself. Yes, she’d known he hadn’t answered her question about shape-shifters, but the story wasn’t his to tell. Maybe if she stayed at his farm, Toby would—Nope, he wasn’t going there at all.

“See that dirty white pickup two vehicles back?” asked Rainer very softly.

Quinn glanced in the side mirror and nodded then looked back over his shoulder. Wynter’s eyes were closed. He hoped she was asleep. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s been sitting there for twenty minutes now. The car between it and us has changed a few times and each time it drops back so it’s not immediately behind us.”

“Well, likely they’re the same as us, content to sit on the speed limit rather than ignoring it like so many other travelers.”

Rainer shot him a look that clearly said, “In your dreams.”

“How much gas have we got?”

“A little less than half a tank.”

“The next service area might be a good place to fill the tank, don’t you think?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I thought. Also we’ll get a look at the license plate if the pickup pulls in as well.”

Quinn nodded. “More than that. You go with Wynter to the ladies room and guard her. See if you can get the license plate and even a picture of the pickup but only if they can’t see you do it. I’ll fill the tank as usual. If they continue to follow us, we’ll phone the wolves and let them know.”

Inside Quinn felt a bubble of dismay. He’d never actually believed there’d be any trouble other than Wynter’s health to worry about. He hadn’t really believed the wolves’ warning. Even now this might be nothing, just a driver who didn’t want to travel any faster than the legal limit. The only reason they were traveling at the speed limit was because they had such a long journey they couldn’t afford to be collecting speeding fines all the way across America. The driver of the pickup might just be a law-abiding person who always traveled at the regulation speed. Just because most people were passing them didn’t mean there was an evil reason this person didn’t.

But he hadn’t convinced himself. Suddenly he was working hard to decide how he could protect his people if trouble happened. Quinn checked the traffic website then called up the map on his cell phone. It didn’t make much sense to leave the highway. For a start, he didn’t know this area at all, and besides, the Interstate was a much better road and he was much more likely to be safe on it. Riding around the back roads they might end up in gang territory or on a dead-end route or any one of a dozen other problems. Hell, even a flat tire could be bad news for them. Nope, much better to stay on the Interstate.

Wynter woke up as they stopped the car at the gas station. Rainer helped her out as usual and walked with her to the ladies room. She didn’t complain. Perhaps she was still not really wide awake.

Quinn turned sideways to the car as he filled the gas tank. In the windows of the service center he could see the other cars, and right at the farthest gas pump the dirty white pickup was also filling its tank. Wynter and Rainer weren’t back when he finished, so he washed the windshield and had just finished as he saw them walking back.

As soon as they returned, he hurried over to the service center and paid for his gas, then stepped into the men’s room. If there was going to be trouble, he didn’t want to have to deal with a full bladder as well. He needed to concentrate on his driving. It was more than ten years since he’d done a defensive driving course, and he wasn’t at all sure he could remember any of the things they’d taught him, except always steer into a skid, never brake. Well, that bit of advice might come in useful.

He hurried back to the car and noticed the pickup had moved over to the parking lot beside the service center. They’d have to drive right past it on their way out back to the Interstate.

“Rainer, call the wolf pack now. Wynter, lie flat down on the backseat and cover your head with the pillow. Pull the bedding over yourself completely if you can.”

“What?”

“The white pickup may have been following us,” explained Rainer.

Quinn was waiting to pull out. Another car was about to leave and he was hoping to use it as cover.
This feels like a fucking movie, and likely it’s all my imagination.

“I expect a full explanation later,” came a muffled voice from behind him.

She was so good. She’d obeyed him even though she still was going to argue. He didn’t bother to look at her. He knew Rainer would help her if she needed any help. He was concentrating on the black car he wanted to hide beside.