Pax pulled the thin covers over his shoulder and shifted on the lumpy mattress. Leave it to Carol to make sure he had the most uncomfortable bed in the hospital. He smirked to himself. The head nurse had made her point. The Big Bad Wolf was muzzled.

Truth was she needn’t have bothered. Not when one woman occupied his thoughts in more ways than he could count. He draped his arm over his eyes and exhaled. Exhaustion clouded his mind, making every nerve in his body sluggish. With a yawn, he finally gave in to his fatigue and let oblivion take him.

Disjointed images formed behind his lids in a kaleidoscope. He watched the puzzle form as a spectator in his own dream. The picture took shape and he saw Evelyn approach. She jogged along the loop that traced the reservoir. It was late and the path deserted, and a wash of apprehension flooded Pax even in his dream state.

She got closer and closer, but before he could react, she screamed as someone grabbed her from the side. Evelyn! He fought to rush forward, but the image in his mind swirled, losing focus. He couldn’t speak. He could only watch as she fought like the predatory cat he sensed her to be.

An adrenaline-fed grin tugged at his lips. She was a fighter. Her eyes shifted yellow, but in a twist, her attacker raised his hand, a syringe between his fat fingers glinting in the moonlight. She struggled, but the man plunged the needle into her flesh.

With a gurgled scream, she ripped the syringe from his hand and flung it before falling to all fours, her muscles rippling as she fought to shift. With a snarl, her attacker shifted after her, his clothes shredding as he phased to an immense bear, one enormous paw raised and ready to strike as he loomed over her—

Pax woke with a start, bolting up in bed, panting and drenched with sweat.

“Dr. Noble!” Carol flung the door wide, calling for him. “Are you all right? I heard you yelling.”

His eyes tore around the room, disoriented and he shook his head, clearing the cobwebs. “Sorry, Carol. Bad dream, I guess.” He wiped a hand across his wet brow. “How long was I out?”

Carol looked at the watch pinned to her scrubs. “Not long. About a half hour or so.”

He slumped back against the hard pillow. “It’s this bed you and your sadistic cohorts ordered for me. You probably cursed it with nightmares just because.”

She chuckled, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I thought about it, but I’d have to sacrifice a live chicken, and I already clean up enough blood as part of the day job.”

“You really are a ballbuster, you know that, right?” Paxton laughed. “Is it something you do just for me, or is everyone privy to your brand of funny?”

With a smirk, she grabbed a fresh pillow from the cabinet and tossed it to him. “Just you. You’re too good looking for your own good, Pax. Someone needs to keep you humble.”

He caught the pillow and tucked it behind his head. “How’s Evelyn? Test results back?”

“Not yet.” She shook her head. “I told you I’d wake you when they posted, but if you ask me, she’s worse. Her color is ashen and her legs are swelling.”

“Put a call in to move her to ICU as soon as possible. If she’s going into renal failure, we need all the help we can get.”

“And you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

She raised an eyebrow. “A half hour sleep never does anyone any good.”

Swinging his legs to the end of the cot, he frowned. “Not on this bed, anyway.”

“Go home, Pax. I promise I’ll hold down the fort and I swear I’ll call if there’s even the slightest change in her condition.”

* * *

The streets were empty as Pax drove to his apartment on the west side. Not that it was any big surprise considering the time of night. His mind raced. Not just with Evelyn and what was causing her unconscious state, but the disjointed dream as well. Even more so.

His eyes hardly registered the streets, his car basically on autopilot. Why would he dream that? It’s not like he was connected to her in any way. Or was he?

He exhaled, rolling the window down to let fresh air wash over his clammy skin. Shaking his head, he couldn’t escape the feeling that dream wasn’t a dream. It felt more like a memory. Like he was being let in on a secret.

Certain facts were undeniable. Evelyn was attacked and the man responsible was a bear shifter. Pax couldn’t see his face, but even in the dreamscape, he recognized intent in the dude’s scent. The attack was purposeful, not random as the police were led to believe, and whatever was in that syringe held the key to what caused Evelyn’s coma.

Paxton whipped the car around the next corner and headed north toward Central Park. The reservoir was huge, but if he kept his mind on the images from the dream, he’d find the spot where Evelyn was attacked. It was a crime scene, right? So, the yellow tape would make it that much easier to find.

He hoped.

He parked the car and headed into the park via Engineer’s Gate at East 90th Street. The place was deserted, and the park took on an eerie ambiance in the shadows despite the full moon. Pax let his wolf rise, but kept the beast in check. He wanted the animal’s senses front and center, and if necessary, he’d shift to protect himself from any criminal element loitering in the gloom.

Lifting his nose, he inhaled. Fear was one of the strongest scents, surpassed only by lust, and it left a lasting trace to follow. Pax followed the dirt path, his senses alight. He needed to find that syringe and anything else the crime scene could tell him.

His eyes narrowed ahead and he squinted for a better look in the darkness. A single piece of yellow police tape flapped in the wind. Picking up his pace, Pax jogged forward. This was it, all right. Evelyn’s panicked scent permeated the air and the surrounding grass. The police had packed up already, and the piece of tape caught on a small bush was one they missed. Lucky for him.

He searched the area. Everywhere he looked, images from the dream or memory or whatever it was flooded back. Anger poured through his veins and his chest tightened. His wolf was too close to the surface for him to allow that kind of emotion. The last thing he needed was to shift in the park this late at night and end up the newest wolf in the Central Park Zoo or worse, the city pound.

Closing his eyes, he let the image of Evelyn fisting the syringe fill his mind. He opened his eyes and walked slowly until he stood in the exact spot, angling himself correctly with the trajectory she threw.

Evelyn was a feline. A tiger shifter, if his guess was correct. Strong and agile under normal circumstances, but under stress her strength would most likely double under the rush of adrenaline. If she flung that needle, chances were it didn’t land in the grass or anywhere along the path. It was in the water.

He frowned. Fuck. How the hell was he going to find it in a reservoir? He kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his jacket before stripping the rest of his clothes from his body. The wind whipped past and his skin tingled with gooseflesh.

“Okay, boy. Remember, you’re the one that wants this,” he mumbled to his wolf, and the animal whined as he waded into the reservoir. Pax sucked a breath through his teeth the minute the cold water hit the family jewels.

One deep breath later, he dove under, searching as best he could through the murk. He broke the surface and shivered, pushing his hair from his eyes. He stood in the reedy muck, thinking. This was never going to work. Not in this kind of darkness and he didn’t dare try it once dawn hit or every cop in the city would be on him for indecent exposure and messing with a crime scene.

He looked at his pruning skin and shook his head. It was wolf time. Pax raised his face to the sky and lifted his arms to call his animal. His skin prickled, but not with cold. Heat skittered across his flesh and his muscles coiled beneath his skin. He lurched forward in the water, doubled over as his bones and sinew snapped and reshaped. Sleek black fur replaced skin and hair until a giant, elegant wolf stood in the cold, dark water.

The animal shook his fur, sending droplets everywhere, then lifting his snout, inhaled. His lips pulled back over his teeth in a wolfy smile and he growled low, his head swinging toward a small island halfway to the center of the reservoir, surrounded by reeds.

He dogpaddled out and circled the area, stopping with a whine on the far end. In a snap of ozone and electricity, Paxton reshaped to human form. Caught in the stems and resting above the wet mud was the syringe. Only by the grace of God it hadn’t submerged, and inside was enough yellow residue to be the key to helping Evelyn. Now the question remained how to get it back to shore.

Pax climbed onto the muddy banks and took a breath. “Sample bags, stupid. They’re everywhere you turn in the hospital,” he grumbled to himself.

Sucking in a breath, he didn’t have a choice. He’d have to swim back to shore with his arm up. Glancing at the dark sky, he waded into the water and made slow progress to the other side. Now, to get the contents tested, and there was only one person he trusted for that.