“Leo and Nadia Revnik. Sophia’s parents.” Sylvan’s voice was rough, her eyes tracking Drake as she might follow the path of prey in the forest. “The foremost experts on Were physiology in the world. They defected from the Blackpaw Pack when Sophia was an adolescent. About the time the latest skirmish in the Pack wars broke out and my…our Alpha was killed.”
“Sophia wasn’t born in your Pack, then?” Drake asked.
“No,” Sylvan said. “My mother allowed her family to immigrate.”
“That’s unusual?”
“Our Packs have been at war for centuries. Members of my Pack have had their entire lines wiped out in the conflict. Many disagreed with my mother’s decision, but she was Alpha.”
“What do they want from me?”
“Blood samples. A muscle biopsy, if you agree.”
“Of course.” Drake caught the angry flash in Sylvan’s eyes. “What? What else?”
“Nothing.”
Drake shook her head. “There’s more, and for some reason you don’t want to tell me.”
Sylvan grumbled in warning.
“No. You can’t protect me from this.”
“I can,” Sylvan snarled.
“No,” Drake said gently. “I know you want to. I know what being Alpha means. I know how strongly you’re driven to protect everyone in the Pack. I saw it with Misha the night we met. I think that’s when I…” She caught herself before she confessed to what had to remain unspoken. She wanted to touch her so badly, but she knew she couldn’t.
But she had something she could give. She had her body and whatever was happening inside it. She could help Sylvan. Help the Pack. “You need… we need to know why humans are displaying signs of Were fever. We need to understand why I survived when most don’t. You know I have to do this.”
“Your blood. A tissue sample,” Sylvan snapped. “That’s all.”
“What else? What else do they want?”
Sylvan was suddenly right in front of her, her body pressed tight against Drake’s, her hands in Drake’s hair, her mouth against Drake’s ear. “You’ll do as I say. I won’t have you hurt.” Drake sank into the heat of Sylvan’s body, her flesh molding to the hard planes and subtle curves of Sylvan’s form. She drew in her scent, felt herself stiffen and throb. She licked the faint dew from Sylvan’s neck and her skin sheened.
“You make me so ready so fast.”
“I shouldn’t touch you like this,” Sylvan rasped, her body vibrating against Drake’s. Her claws skimmed Drake’s neck. “It’s too soon for you to control the frenzy.”
“It’s not frenzy,” Drake whispered.
“I’m used to touching my wolves. I’m sorry.” Sylvan released Drake, her face hardening. “You’re not ready for casual handling.” Drake shuddered with the brutal sensation of being cut adrift, of being terribly, horribly alone.
“I understand, Alpha.”
“We should let Sophia get the samples.”
“Of course.” Drake’s legs were unsteady, her stomach cramping. She could hardly control the aching need to touch Sylvan. Just touch her. If she couldn’t be close to her, she had to be much farther away.
“Let’s do it. I want answers as much as you do. I’d like to be able to get back to my life.”
“Your life is with the Pack now,” Sylvan said, her tone dark and ominous.
“I have another life that’s just as important to me.” Drake strode to the door and pulled it open without looking back, hoping Sylvan hadn’t heard the lie.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Becca parked next to Jody in a nearly empty lot behind the municipal complex at Lark and Madison. The city morgue was in the basement of one of the older buildings. Jody led the way through a labyrinth of poorly lit alleys and walkways to a dark loading dock. As they climbed the narrow concrete stairs to the raised platform, Jody cupped Becca’s elbow. The gesture was oddly courtly and Becca found she liked it. Flustered, she pulled away.
“You sure you want to come down?” Jody asked as she pressed the buzzer next to the heavy metal doors.
“I’m not afraid of the dead,” Becca said.
Jody shot her a sardonic grin. “Even when they animate?”
“You already know the answer to that, don’t you?”
“Sometimes we’re drawn to what we fear most.”
“Look,” Becca said, “let’s get something straight. I’m not afraid of Vampires and I’m not drawn to them—you—either.”
“Good to know.”
For some reason Jody’s response irritated her, but Becca didn’t have time to ponder her annoyance because the doors swung open and a giant of a man stared out at them with a belligerent expression on his face. He had to be six-ten and four hundred pounds, with a wild mane of tangled brown hair and arms and legs the size of small saplings.
“Hi, Davey,” Jody said. “Is Marissa here tonight?” The giant smiled and his face transformed from fierce to friendly.
“How you doing, Jody. We’ve been really busy. Big pileup on the Northway.” He held the massive door wide. “Marissa is in three.”
“Thanks. We won’t stay long.”
“Who is that?” Becca whispered as she followed Jody through the twisting hallways. Their footsteps ricocheted like gunshots through the unnatural stillness. The air smelled faintly of death and disinfectant.
“Davey Gleason. He’s a diener—an autopsy assistant.”
“What else is he?” Becca muttered.
“You guess. Your Praetern radar’s pretty good.”
“Must be the company I keep.” Becca thought she saw a brief smile flicker across Jody’s usually composed and unreadable face, and realized she liked making her smile. “Who is Marissa?”
“Dr. Marissa Sanchez. She’s the night shift supervisor.”
“Does she have to work nights?” Jody paused in front of another set of double doors, these with glass windows through which Becca could see a gleaming autopsy suite.“She isn’t a Vampire, if that’s what you mean.” Jody punched a saucer-sized red button on the wall and the doors swung open. “She just likes them.”
As soon as they walked into the room, the reason for Jody’s remark was obvious. The petite Latina, wearing scrubs and dictating into a microphone as she bent over a body on an autopsy table, took one look at Jody and stopped what she was doing. She pulled off her gloves and switched off the microphone, then practically ran the length of the room to meet them.
“Jody,” Marissa said breathlessly, ignoring Becca as if she were invisible. “Tell me this isn’t business.”
“Sorry,” Jody murmured, “I’m afraid it is.”
Marissa ran a short sculpted nail along the edge of Jody’s jaw and leaned so close her breasts touched Jody’s chest. “We could save the business for after pleasure.”
Becca had an overwhelming urge to grasp the finger that was slowly trailing down Jody’s neck and snap it like a dry twig. If she hadn’t noticed Jody subtly ease away until there was space between her and the medical examiner, she just might have. The reaction totally confused her. She wasn’t ordinarily jealous even of women she dated, and that certainly wasn’t the situation with the Vampire detective.
“I should be done in another hour,” Marissa said with a sigh.
“Maybe you could come back then and we can have…breakfast…together.” She turned to Becca with a surprisingly friendly smile. “Unless you have plans to feed her?”
“Knock yourself out,” Becca said sharply and Jody laughed.
Marissa’s smile was blazing. “Thanks. I hope so.” She caressed Jody’s arm. “What do you need? Now, I mean.”
“A Jane Doe came in two nights ago from the ER at AGH. A teenager—female. Do you have a COD yet?”
“I think Kerry did that one,” Marissa said, all business now. “I’ll have to check the file.” She glanced at Becca again. “I didn’t catch your name?”