“So there wasn’t a fit then?” The woman from the dating agency’s voice sizzled through the cell phone and Dr. Royce Buchanan sighed. What was her name? Sylvia? Gods, he couldn’t remember. He wove his way down the hospital’s sterile white halls and tried to think of a polite way to respond that didn’t sound surly. He’d been looking forward to the meet and greet, surrounded by shifters in the hope that he could connect with a mate.

No such luck.

The venue had been a good one. Ironic even. A new restaurant had opened up next door to Star Pizza, one of his favorite haunts. Aptly named the Cardiac Café, it was a typical greasy spoon diner scenario, save for one thing. The waitresses all wore nurses uniforms with nosebleed heels and had the curves to match. Packed with gawking humans eager to add some more lard into their systems and shifters vying for a connection, the night raced by in a greasy haze of milkshakes, wine in IV bottles dragged around on wheels, cheeseburgers and the lingering scent of seasoned fries.

The best part about it had been the onion rings.

And the bacon maple milkshake.

Holy hell. Everything that place made came wrapped in bacon and deep fried in lard. He had no doubt he would see many of the patrons pass through his doors in the years to come. But in thinking about all the options, he’d chose onion rings with ranch and that milkshake over everything else.

He was going back there on his vacation next week. Only three more hours to go and he was off for a week at his pack’s estate. Brand, the Alpha of the Cypress Pack, was expecting him and it would be nice to let someone else run things for a change. With all the madness of shifters being attacked over the last few years, his Alpha had asked Royce to let him know if anything unusual came through the ER. There had been enough of that to last him the rest of his life.

Bitings. Strange deaths. Magical wounds that didn’t make sense. Unless you figured Hexen into the picture; the hate group was growing across the country. Every time he turned on the news, more and more of his people were finding themselves outted and pushed into survival mode.

Humans had only just begun discovering that their safe antiseptic world offered more than just them at the top of the food chain. A vampire bar downtown had been in the news recently, and not a few shifters found themselves thrust into unwanted media attention. It made finding a mate difficult, at best, and that was why he’d gone to Shifting Hearts. Run by a demi goddess and a cat shifter, he’d thought it suited his needs just fine.

The annual pack gathering had just taken place and he’d missed it, like he had every year. Brand never failed to give him shit about it either. An alpha male in his own right, it seemed easier for Royce to stay in the city. Too much family time tended to get his nerves in a tangle and his already snappish temper flaring.

“Why the hell are you using a dating service when we have a pool of eligible wolves right here?” Brand kidded him the last time he visited.

“I just don't believe in it. The shifter chemistry thing doesn't work for me. I want to date a woman, not fall for her in two seconds or less just because of a quirk in chemistry.”

Brand’s laughter grated on his nerves. He watched him glance over at his mate, Glenis, and the spark that passed between them. That was what he’d always wanted. A woman to be his other half, not just a pretty trophy to put on the shelf when he was done fucking her.

Hell no.

He wanted an equal.

“You'll understand when it hits you, my friend. Just keep doing what you're doing. I have to tell you though, it's going to find you when you least expect it.”

That would have been fine. But, so far, no one had caught his wolf’s attention. Just like the others, all they saw when they looked at him was a doctor. Funny how that one little word made females trip all over themselves to put a notch on their bra strap or clamor to put a ring on their finger after just one date. All they wanted him for was his money and the prestige of being a doctor’s wife. He was done with that scene.

When he’d come of age, he’d tried to connect but his efforts had proven futile. Most of the shifters he met were wild for him at first but, when they found out about his predilection with kinky fuckery, they soon headed for the hills.

All around him pheromones and chemistry were popping—just for him. This was his fifth dating scenario and he was beginning to lose hope. Maybe there wasn’t a mate out there for him and he was destined to be alone.

When he found Ventures part of him hoped he would find a woman who could accept his unique tastes but, so far, even that had failed to slake his desires.

Because none of them are your equal.

He hated it when his wolf was right.

Royce sighed.

If he’d been looking for a quick romp to satisfy his lusts, he wouldn’t have to look any further than the shapely women he’d found through the service or even the subs at the club. Easy, but not what he wanted… Craved.

He could just see Brand with his smug, shit eating grin. Once upon a time, they had caroused together but then Brand met Glenis at one of the pack Gatherings, and that put a halt to his bachelor days for good.

The sexy wolf shifter had tamed his beast and helped bring balance to the pack when they needed it the most. It was Glenis’ idea to ask Royce to send information about any shifters caught in the line of fire with Hexen and, if possible, to relocate the victims to pack headquarters for recovery.

There were shadows in the Alpha female’s eyes and every time he encountered her, Royce wondered at her story. With patience that would rival even the most seasoned nurse, she took in whomever he brought and tended to them like she’d been trained medically.

But he didn’t ask. He didn’t have to. Observing her with the patients was enough. Calm and confident, she would have been at home in his ER.

“You would have been a good nurse, Glenis.”

She’d met his gaze with a pinched expression. “But then I’d have to deal with more asshole doctors.”

His lips parted in a smile and he laughed as she said it.

“True enough and, most of the time, well deserved.”

“Mmph.” Glenis hadn’t said much more from then on. At least not to him but, each time he glanced up and caught her observing him with a thoughtful eye, he could swear she had the touch of a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

Brand was a lucky bastard.

“No. No match. I’m not sure this is going to work out.” Gods. He hated to lay it out like that but, what choice did he have? The only release he’d gotten lately was from carefully constructed scenes at Ventures, the local BDSM club run by two of his best friends and their new mate. He served as the doctor on staff when the need arose, and spent every Friday night teaching naughty submissives how to properly behave.

Between the combined duties of an occasional caning gone too far and the shifter issue, it was getting harder and harder to breathe. His wolf needed time away and that was why he’d told the boys upstairs he was taking a week off; even if it was a week with the Cypress Pack. Really, what he would have wanted was a week in the wilds but that wasn’t to be. Not with Brand nagging at him to come home.

The overhead speaker barked and he swore.

“Dr. Buchanan to Emergency.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It can take a few tries sometimes.”

“How many does it take?” He ground out and spun on his heel, the hard soles of his shoes returning to the very place he’d just left. Coffee and a meal had been on the agenda but, when he saw the number for Shifting Hearts flash across his phone he had to answer. Better to get it over with and move on. Any time after six in the evening until about seven the next morning was always a crazy time in the ER. He’d had a ten minute nap and had wanted to grab a cup of coffee before he slid face first down a wall.

“It could take a few, Dr. Buchanan. You can’t force a mating bond. You know that.”

An ugly response formed behind his lips, but he squelched it. A gurney laden with a heavily bleeding patient raced by, one of his nurses from the emergency room pushing it down the hall like he was on fire.

His adrenaline surged and he swiveled to watch the gurney slide into the x-ray suite. Another room reserved for emergency childbirth was already full, the woman dilating, and the CT scan suite was in use. Just another night filled with chaos.

He really didn’t have time for this.

“Look. I think I'm going to have to put the brakes on this for a while.”

There was a pause on the other end.

Part of him felt bad. With the surge in shifter based hate crimes, he was sure their business had taken a hit. Unfortunately, that was part of the reason he couldn’t afford to take much time away. His people needed him here and, other than sleep and food, he would be until they found out who was behind the deaths and injuries. His bets were on Hexen, the witch based group, but then he’d been wrong before.

He’d yet to speak to a live victim. The last one they brought in had been frozen in some kind of paralysis. It was almost like a spell gone horribly wrong. Witches and shifters had never gotten along much and if he were a betting man, he would place his money there. But hunches didn’t fly until he had proof and he really hadn’t treated much in the way of magically induced injuries to know.

Witches typically took care of themselves and as a doctor he rarely saw one inside his ER. When the voice on the phone sounded, he started, lost in his head and the onset of exhaustion. He’d lost count of how many hours he’d been on his feet but suspected he was nearing twenty at this point. An hour of sleep serve him well; if he could steal the time away.

“If that's what you want to do. The ladies will be very disappointed. You’ll be quite the catch one of these days.”

Yeah. Like a side of prime beef at a barbeque. He shuddered. No. He’d had enough. Who was he kidding? The best he’d been able to manage was a couple hours at Ventures and then he’d been paged back to the hospital. Hardly even enough time to give a sub a proper spanking or to enjoy himself.

“I’ll get back to you.” Royce hung up and stomped down the hall, the din of the emergency room beckoning. The sour smell of vomit and unwashed bodies filled his nostrils, followed quickly by the scent of antiseptic chemicals and the sweet tang of blood.

An orderly struggled with a mop bucket, scrubbing at a puddle of what appeared to be vomit. Gods, he hated the jerks who thought if they threw up they’d get in to see someone faster. All it did was piss off everyone and move them to the end of a very long line.

Drunks and whining children with worried parents sat in the uncomfortable plastic chairs and, not for the first time, Royce found himself cursing the lack of funds and overstaffing that made up his nights. He bypassed the waiting room, heading straight for the nurses station to check back in.

Half a dozen of his night crew swarmed over charts, lists and forms. Lillian took a swig of coffee and dove right back into it. Sara gave him a saucy wink, her mane of brown curly hair twisted into a conservative chignon. She sorted through a chart, scribbling some information on it, and ambled to a room down the hall. The others scurried off toward their respective tasks. Nina strode up, a look of concern on her face.

“Damn, sir. That was a quick break.” Nina, the head nurse, snorted and he almost caught a flash of fang.

Lillian poked her head up from the form she was filling out and stuck the pencil behind her ear. “Did you even make it to get coffee?”

Royce narrowed his eyes and grabbed the clip board she waved in his direction. “What have you got?”

“Morons wielding power tools, a drunk with a screw driver in his eye, a kid with a broken leg from falling off the monkey bars, a bleeder with a knife wound to the gut, a Code Stroke and the puker.” Nina rattled off the current list.

“Notify the CT room and get the appropriate people in place. How old is the stroke vic?”

“Forty two. Mother of two. She’s on birth control. What do you want to bet she’s clotting.”

“Check it out. Get those people down here. Time is brain. You know that.”

“Already on it.” Carole gave him a tight smile and headed back in the direction of the CT room.

“Good.” Royce nodded. “Next?”

“Power tool guy is in X-ray but we need to look at the bleeder. He’s being a real asshole, and if he doesn’t quit trying to hit Melody and Peter, we’re going to have to call the cops.”

“Has he connected?”

“Not yet.”

“Restrain him. I’ll be there in a moment. We need to find out where she stabbed him and with what.”

“Oh… I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” Nina sighed.

“Why?”

She reached onto the counter and held up a bloody knife in a Ziploc bag. “The wife brought it.”

Royce winced. “Okay… maybe you’d better just save time and call the cops now.”

“On it.” Nina picked up the station phone and hit speed dial. A few words and she was off the phone.

“They coming?”

“Yes. I told them not to rush. Neither one of them are going anywhere.” She lifted her chin toward the waiting room and the silently crying woman covered in blood.

“That is more than a little fucked up.”

“You know it.” Lillian sighed and flipped through more paperwork. “Where is that form? I just saw it.”

“You need some coffee.” Nina grabbed a thermos from behind the desk and poured some into a cup, handing it to Lillian. She reached for another one and poured a small cup, handing it to Royce. “Drink it.”

“Thanks.” He downed the steaming hot beverage in two or three gulps, the heat warming his insides all the way down. The other doctors wouldn’t get this lucky. Hammonds was a prick and the nurses hated the quicksand he walked on. The two residents were so busy trying to prove themselves they had yet to realize some of their greatest assets were right here.

Royce smiled. “Don’t forget alligator file Linda. That woman is going to kill herself trying to get more drugs. I thought I saw her lurking around the waiting room when the last wave of patients swept in.”

“I saw her too.” Lillian nodded. “I had to escort her out last weekend.”

“Like puking helps.” Simone, one of the more experienced ER nurses rolled her eyes and brushed past him in a colorful blur of dog emblazoned scrubs toward the curtained off beds.

A piercing howl rent the air and Nina shook her head, holding up the chart in question. “Idiots. Power tools and bourbon. Lucky he didn’t lose a limb.”

“Did he cut himself open?”

“Nope, but he crushed his foot pretty good when he dropped the chain saw on it when he fell out of the tree.”

“Oh Gods.”

“Back to the kid? Where did you put him?”

Nina pointed to one of the curtained off beds toward the end of the room. “His mother is about to be sick. I guess this is her first trip to the ER.”

Royce nodded. “One of the residents should catch that in a sec.”

“Larry’s already gone in.” Lola hunched in front of the computer, glasses perched on the edge of her nose. Her blond hair twisted in a messy bun on top of her head, she grabbed at one of the files and began entering stats immediately into the computer. Round and matronly, she was the mother hen of the group with a bullshit detector like he’d never seen.

She’d been at the data entry for hours. Monday was their worst day and he could see the steady noise was beginning to get on even her seasoned nerves.

Madeline sauntered past, chucking a chart in the bin. “Don’t forget the DB in room three.”

“Oh, yeah. That.” Nina pointed toward the curtained off beds. “Why don’t you get the stinker done so you can get on the screamer.”

“At least he’s quiet.” Lola ground out, darting a glance out from behind the screen. “Can you please deal with that loud s.o.b. before I shove this stapler up his ass?”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to help with the volume, hon.” Nina’s full lips were drawn up in a grin, her cascading black hair drawn up in a ponytail so it didn’t get in the way.

“It might.”

Nina rolled her eyes.

An EMT rushed in from the sliding doors carrying a clipboard. “Doctor, there's been another bite victim. Room two and a gunshot wound in room five.”

“Lillian, who is the on duty ophthalmologist?” Royce inquired.

She glanced at the on duty roster. “Dr. Johanson.”

Nina stepped up and picked up some paperwork. “Page him. Also, see if Markenson has returned from lunch. We need him to get through this wave of crazy.”

A voice paged over head as everyone but Lola scurried off in their own direction. “We have a code brown in the ER waiting room. I need an orderly, stat.”

Royce winced. Now they had a pooper. Great.

“Okay, ladies. Let’s get to work. Has anyone seen Dr. Hammond?”

Lola gave him an ugly look. “Nope. But if I do, he might be the one with the stapler up his ass the way he fills out these forms. You doctors need to learn to write. So help me, I’m going to get admin to get us some of those electronic things where you have to type it in. Maybe then I can get it all straight.”

Ouch.

“Good luck with that.” Madeline snorted. “They can’t even get us decent toilet paper. What makes you think they’ll spring for that?”

“Mutiny.”

Madeline patted her on the back. “You try it, honey. Let me know if it works. Come on, doc. We’d better go check out the bleeders before Julio has to mop up another room full of blood. And we better find that resident. Word is he’s been hitting up on the patient in room seven.”