The Werewolf Meets His Match
The bitter he recognized. Wolfsbane, an herb fatal to werewolves.
Cruz came charging in. “What did you—I’m calling an ambulance right now.”
“Already called in.”
“I’ll get the first aid kit,” Cruz said.
“No point,” Hank told him. “It’s wolfsbane.” He held her close, rage spiraling through him like a storm.
Cruz sucked in a breath. “That’s fatal for your kind, isn’t it?”
“Can be.” But not this time. Please not this time.
Cruz knelt beside Hank. “There’s got to be something we can do.”
“Get her to the hospital so they can pump her stomach, but that’s about it. Pray she didn’t ingest too much and wait it out.” Then he would find out who did this and kill them.
“Any idea how this happened?”
“Someone did this to her, that’s how.” Hank forced himself to look at Cruz. “Find anything suspicious around the house?”
“I was only halfway through when you called. I’ll go finish.” He stood and took a few steps but didn’t go very far. Hank couldn’t see enough of him to know what he was doing. Didn’t matter. Only Ivy’s survival mattered.
“Boss, you might want to look at this.”
Still holding Ivy, Hank got to his feet.
Cruz pointed at the counter. “Was that stuff here already?”
“I sent her the flowers, but I don’t recognize the rest of it.” Beside the bouquet from the florist was a red dishcloth-draped basket with a handle. Beside it sat a glass of milk and plate of cookies. The cling wrap was disturbed, and one partially eaten cookie lay next to the plate amidst a scattering of crumbs.
Ivy’s phone was there, too. He grabbed that and stuck it in his pocket. “Get the crime scene kit. Bag the basket, the towel and the cookies.”
Sirens wailed in the distance. Help was on the way.
“You got it, boss.” Cruz ran out to the car to get his things.
Hank bent his head to whisper in Ivy’s ear. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Fight it. Be strong.”
Wolfsbane was deadly. Whoever had done this knew exactly what Ivy was. They had to also know that killing her would mean no marriage, and no marriage would mean no truce.
But if Ivy didn’t make it, no truce was going to be a minor concern for whoever was responsible.
Being number one on Hank’s hit list? Now that was something to worry about.
Despite being joined by Bridget and Titus, Hank couldn’t sit. He paced the hospital waiting room, his body present, his mind elsewhere. Cruz had found a note attached to the basket when he’d bagged the evidence. The lab was running tests on the cookies and the note, but Hank had a feeling that, other than the presence of the wolfsbane they already knew about, nothing else would be found.
It made him want to punch something. Repeatedly.
“Sheriff Merrow?”
Hank stopped pacing and turned. Ivy’s doctor stood before him. The man’s face was unreadable, sounding new alarms in Hank’s head. “How is she?”
“Resting comfortably. We’ve pumped her stomach and given her a mild sedative, so she’ll most likely sleep until morning.”
“I want to see her. And I’m putting a deputy on the door to make sure there’s not another attempt on her life.”
“That’s fine, but as for seeing her…” The doctor shook his head. “She’s in no state to answer questions—”
“I don’t want to question her, you idiot, I want to see her.”
Bridget jumped up and grabbed Hank’s arm. “Maybe we could have this conversation outside of the waiting room?”
Without waiting for an answer, she hustled them both out the door. “Doctor, what my brother is trying to say is he’s madly in love with that woman so if you could just give him a few minutes with his fiancée, he’d feel much better.”
The doctor nodded slowly, like he was dealing with the slightly insane. “Five minutes. That’s it.”
Bridget smiled broadly. “Five minutes. Awesome. Thank you.”
The doctor left. She punched Hank in the arm and hissed, “Dude, you cannot get all wolfy like that in front of the humans in the waiting room. The doc might know we’re weres, but those people in there don’t. It’s one thing on the street, but no one thinks you’re pretending to be a character in here.”
Hank glared after the doctor as Bridget dragged him back into the waiting room. “Like he can keep me away from her.”
Bridget punched him again. “Are you even listening to me? Breathe, Hank.”
Titus snorted and dropped the magazine he’d been looking at. “Does he ever?”
“I’m listening.” Hank took a deep inhale and shot Bridget a pointed look. But breathing didn’t help. Nothing would help but seeing Ivy. “Stay here.”
He went down the hall to the nurse’s station. “Ivy Kincaid’s room?”
“Three twenty, down and to the left.”
“Thanks.” He found her room and slipped in. The lights were dim, some monitor was beeping softly and the whole place smelled of disinfectant.
Ivy lay in the bed closest to the window. The other bed was empty. For the first time since he’d met her, she looked fragile.
It was a harsh reminder that for all their shifter strength and abilities, they were still vulnerable.