Anomaly (Causal Enchantment #4)(8)
Author: K.A. Tucker

He groaned but said nothing. Probably because he knew I was right.

“Where can I get more?” I pulled on a black leather jacket that lay on the ground. Not because I’d be cold, but because a young woman walking coatless on the winter streets at night would certainly draw attention.

With a huff, Max finally suggested, Kiril’s men will know. We should be able to pick up their tracks fairly easily.

“We?” I turned to meet Max’s eyes.

You think I’m going to let you go out there alone?

I threw my hands in the air. “What do you think is going to happen to me? I’m freaking immortal now!”

Max’s tone was thick with doubt. Knowing you … something.

*

“I win!” I teased, reaching the edge of the tree line, the fluorescent lights of the small hospital ahead now visible. Max had been right; it wasn’t hard to find the wolves, likely because they found us first and had tried to force me back into the mine, thanks to Sofie’s directive. When I explained our predicament, they quickly pointed me in the direction of this hospital, thirty miles west. It took us all of ten minutes to find the hospital. Now, all we had to do was hope that there was enough blood to make this worthwhile.

Because I had to avoid the twenty trees you took out along the way, Max said, joining me only seconds later.

“Two trees!” I corrected. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t a hundred percent graceful just yet. Still, I remained boggled at the speed with which I was able to move through the woods, the deep snow providing no hindrance.

Besides, I let you win. “Whatever.” I laughed, the light musical sound different from how I remembered my laughter sounding. It caught the attention of a nurse in the parking lot, her shoulders hunched against the cold, a cigarette in hand. I doubted she could see us from that distance but we stepped into the shadows anyway.

“How hard do you think this is going to be?” I watched the nurse extinguish her cigarette before turning to head back inside. It was late and few staff seemed to be milling about.

Just try not to look like you don’t belong and you’ll be fine, Max assured me.

“Right. I guess you’re staying out here, then.” Max was slightly more conspicuous and, though he’d managed to tail me unnoticed for most of my childhood, I didn’t doubt that our luck would be tested tonight. “What if I attack someone?” Is this where my control would finally falter? At the first sound of a human heartbeat?

If you get past the desk nurse, you’ll be fine.

“And … if not?”

Then I’ll have to come and pry you off.

I bit the inside of my mouth, hesitation flooding my nerve. “They must have visitors’ hours. I can’t just walk in there like this.”

You can run past them without them even noticing! And if they do see you, then just compel them.

“I missed that part of the training course, Max,” I grumbled. How the hell did I compel someone?

Whatever you do, you’d better figure it out quickly. Remington just checked on them. Julian and Veronique are down to their last ten bags and I’m guessing Cecile and Brian won’t be willing to play sharesies.

“Crap.” We were fortunate that Max could communicate with his brothers telepathically, even at a distance. I sighed. “Okay. But when we get back, you need to teach me how to talk to you like that.” Caden and Bishop were able to talk telepathically with their werebeasts, back on Ratheus. There had to be a way for me to as well.

So you can order me around from afar? I’m so excited.

I headed for the main doors, my anxiety growing with each step, until my senses were so keenly aware of my surroundings—the lingering smell of the nurse’s cigarette, the creak of the revolving door ahead—I struggled to focus on the task at hand.

At about twenty feet away the faint beat caught in my throat, just as earlier today, in the woods behind the mine. Only this wasn’t the heartbeat of a black bear or two deer. It was the slow, rhythmic pulse of a relaxed individual.

And it didn’t bother me. It didn’t elicit any strong urges.

Still wary, I gritted my teeth as I quietly pushed through the door and moved into the front lobby, the single heartbeat growing louder with each step.

As suspected, there were visitors’ hours and, based on the prominently placed sign at the front desk, I’d missed them by a large margin. Before the heavyset receptionist could look up from her desk to tell me to leave, I bolted past, leaving only a swinging door behind.

I didn’t stop until I was beyond the “staff only” entrance in the hospital’s operating wing and standing within one of the operating rooms. It was empty—of people, of heartbeats, and of blood.

“If I were blood, where would I be …” I murmured, biting the inside of my cheek in thought as I searched the cupboards for hidden refrigeration compartments. I had never been inside a hospital, aside from my birth. By the third room, it was painfully obvious that keeping blood on hand in operating rooms was probably not standard protocol.

What if they didn’t even have blood in this tiny hospital? Kiril said the next hospital was sixty miles farther.

So intent on my worries, I missed the rhythmic thump until a woman in scrubs with short, sandy hair pushed through the door. “Excuse me. You can’t be in here!” She exclaimed, brown eyes glaring at me. She reached for the phone on the wall.

“Wait!” I called out, my hands raised, palms up in surrender as I edged closer. Her heart accelerated slightly, though not enough to indicate fear. Of course she wouldn’t be afraid of me. I looked like a simple eighteen-year-old girl.

Her fingers hammered out an extension. In seconds, there’d be a phone ringing in some tiny office with television screens and a retired cop who was probably half-asleep in his chair. Sure, I could simply run. No one would catch me. But then I’d have security on alert as I continued my search for the blood supply. What did that mean? A fight? Guns? I wanted to do this as quietly as possible.

She made it to the second number before I closed the distance and slammed my hand down over hers to the sound of crunching bone, followed by her cry of pain.

I gasped as tears streamed down her cheeks, her pulse doubling within three beats.

“I’m so sorry!” I cried out. “I didn’t mean to do that!” Her fingers, bent at awkward angles, were badly broken. When she held her hand up in front of her, her stifled sobs turned into wails.

“Shhhh!” I hissed, covering her mouth with my hand, as my ears caught the faint sound of footsteps in the hall. Still far away, but already too close for my comfort. With all the wailing, we only needed one person to walk past the door and alarms would be set off. I didn’t want to hurt anyone else.

The nurse’s sneakers squeaked as her feet edged backward toward the door

Yanking her farther into the operating room, I locked onto her terror-filled eyes. “Please! I need you to be quiet! Now!”

Her lips clamped shut and she silenced immediately.

I paused for a second, startled by how easily she’d obeyed. “I’m sorry about your hand,” I whispered, my ears now perked for more intruders. “I need you to tell me where you keep your blood.”

“Downstairs, next to the morgue. Room number one-oh-nine.”

Excitement sparked inside. I would have my hands on blood shortly. “And how do I get in there?”

“Take the stairs at the end of the hall. You’ll need my badge to get in,” she answered robotically. Gazing into her eyes, I noticed the cloudy swirl in her irises.

It finally hit me.

I’d compelled this nurse.

Despite everything, I giggled. I did it! And without anyone’s help!

Checking the name on the ID badge, I offered, “Thank you very much … Peggy. You’re going to go sit over there,” I pointed to the corner farthest from the door, “and you’re going to stay there quietly until that clock up there reads midnight.” My eyes flittered to her fingers, already beginning to swell. By midnight, her hand would look a fright. I wish I at least had an icepack to offer her. I had other concerns, though. If the fledglings broke free, I’d have more to worry about than one broken hand.

Her head bobbed up and down and then she strolled over to the corner, turned to face the clock, and plunked down.

This was too easy.

A white coat hung on the prep room just outside the OR. I pulled it on over my clothing and made my way to the stairwell. The basement of this small hospital was exactly as I’d expected: dark, dingy, the heady odor of bleach and used bedpans permeating the air. The lights flickered in and out as I ran down the hall, scanning the room numbers, like a scene out of an old horror film.

Finding room 109, I swiped Peggy’s security badge. When the light flashed green, I barged in.

The steady thump of another human heartbeat caught me off guard. A tall, lanky man hovered over two metal containers, a clipboard in hand, furiously scribbling something. His plain white uniform and jacket sported a blood transportation company logo. A visitor’s badge hung from his neck. Not sure why he was down here at this time of night, but I wasn’t going to complain. I was simply going to relieve him of his product.

His eyes narrowed as he studied my face. He glanced at my borrowed name tag. “You are not Dr. Magnotta.”

I countered with a light stammer, “Yes, I am.”

He blinked twice. And then smirked. “Dr. Magnotta is a sixty-year-old Italian man with a beard.” Turning to give me his full attention, he demanded, “Who let you down here?”

I guess compulsion wasn’t as easy as I had thought.

While I frantically grappled with what my next move should be, the man set his clipboard down and marched over to take hold of my wrist. “Okay, young lady. It’s time we went upstairs to visit security.”

I swung my arm out, intent on shaking his grip. In the next second, his lanky frame sailed backward, crashing into the tall refrigeration unit. With one, two, three blinks, his eyes settled back into his head and he slid down into a heap, the stainless door dented to the shape of his body, a streak of blood smearing where his head had dragged.

I stood still for a moment, mouth agape, waiting for him to regain consciousness.

But when the constant throb of his heartbeat in my throat faded, I knew that he wouldn’t be waking up ever again. My hands flew to cover my mouth, to suppress the scream from escaping.

I had just unwittingly killed a man.

If I were still human, I would crumble to the ground in sobs. But instead, a warm wave of shock coursed through my body. I embraced the numbness, knowing I needed to get the hell out of there before I accidently hurt someone else. Or worse.

The containers that the man had been hovering over were filled with blood bags. Maybe enough to tide over Julian and the others. The paperwork suggested that he was here doing an emergency blood transport to another hospital closer to the city. I got here just in time.

Stacking the boxes, I wasted no time tearing down the hall and up the stairs. I kicked open the exit door and stepped into the cool night air. There, parked in the spot next to the loading dock, was a blood transportation truck.

Wait … Perhaps … No, that would be too easy.

I glanced around to find no one watching. Setting the containers on the ground, I ran back inside to the blood bank and rifled through the dead guy’s pockets. Keys!

Despite the somber situation, when I opened the back of the truck, I couldn’t help but smile. It was full of blood. I quickly hopped into the driver’s seat, cranked the engine, and yanked on a lever until a “D” lit up, assuming that meant “drive”. The truck lurched forward.

I tried not to speed through the parking lot to where I’d left Max, a mixture of exhilaration and fear coursing through my limbs. Slowing to a stop, I threw open the passenger side door and a large black shadow hopped in.

You’ve never driven anything before, Max stated.

“Bumper car at the local fair,” I countered, gunning it out of the parking lot. It wouldn’t be long before someone discovered the delivery guy or the nurse. I needed to be far away from here when they did. The last thing I wanted were police chasing me. I had no interest in learning what bullets through my body felt like.

What’s the rush?

The back end of the truck fishtailed as I rounded a corner. “I accidently killed a man!”

Killed as in …

“Slammed his head against a wall. It was an accident. I swear. I didn’t mean to …” My voice drifted with the weight of my guilt.

Max was silent for a moment, likely sensing my distress. Well, just be careful. We need to get this truck to the mines.

Three wrong turns, two speeding police cars heading toward the hospital, and forty-five minutes later—it would’ve been faster by foot—I pulled over onto the narrow shoulder. The mine was two miles inbound, with no driveways to get us all the way there.

They’ll be looking for this truck by now and this road is too busy for someone not to report it, Max warned. We need to get this truck hidden now.