A wolf shouldn't want to mark a human, but mine seems to think Layne is my mate. Well, it's not a surprise to discover I'm fucked up in a yet another way-unable to detect the difference between a human mate and a shifter. I was an idiot to allow my animal instincts to guide me when I grabbed her.
Now, she's a distraction from my real purpose-eliminating Smyth.
She rips open a pack of sterilized tools and bows her head to her work. It feels like she's digging around in my shoulder. Her ponytail falls down and tickles my cheek.
Sweet Jesus. I want to throw her down and fuck her until tomorrow.
"Oh, sorry." She notices the ponytail and tosses it back. "Am I hurting you? I must be."
A memory flashes. The darkness throbs around me, closes in. The lab is dark, or maybe my vision is just dim. I'm strapped to a chair for torture. Pain threshold tests, is what they called it. Smyth hitting me with every form of torture imaginable to measure my reactions, my regeneration.
A growl erupts from my throat.
Layne shrieks and stumbles back. I catch her, reaching for her waist, but palming her ass instead.
"It's okay," I assure her and pull her between my legs, hand still gripping the soft curve of her posterior. Touching her makes the darkness lighten. The weight on my chest eases.
"What was that? Did I hurt you?"
My brain tells my hand to let go, but of course I squeeze first, before I release her. "Sorry!" I say quickly, holding my palms up. "I wasn't trying to grope you."
I'm such a fucking liar.
"What was that sound you made?"
I shake my head, trying to clear the remnants of the memory. "Nothing." She probably already knows I'm a cracked nut, but my foolish wolf pride keeps me from admitting just how shattered a human I am. "I'm fine. You didn't hurt me."
She presses her lips together but her hand trembles as she returns to digging in my shoulder.
I can't help it-I wrap my fingers around her leg, lightly gripping her thigh. Her warmth seeps through my skin, seems to run into my bloodstream like a drug, calming the flicker of madness, the mindless beast within me, tearing to get free.
I rack my brain for something casual to say and end up blurting, "You're hot for a geek." For fuck's sake. I'm a goddamn idiot.
"Gee, thanks," she says, still focused on her work. "If that's your best line, no wonder you have to kidnap girls to get them to talk to you."
I flinch and not because the pinch in my arm. She's right to think I'm a psycho. The cracks in my sanity can't be repaired. Hell, I don't even know why I'm alive, except that fate must've wanted me to make it this far so I can shut Smyth down.
In another world, another life, I could be the type of guy to take a girl on a date. Normal.
Dr. Zhao would be just my type-the sexy genius. Layne, my wolf nudges.
"So you don't think I have any game?" Shut up, shut up. You put a gun on her, took her hostage and threatened to bomb her place of work. Now you're hitting on her?
To my surprise, a smile flickers across her face before fading into a serious look of concentration.
"Hold still." A twinge, and blood pours from my arm. "There." She shows me the blood-stained bullet before she drops it in the sink. "Next time, bring me flowers."
My laugh bursts out of me. Layne busies herself with cleaning and bandaging me up. I could tell her there's no need, that my shifter healing will take over now that the silver's out, but I like her fussing over me.
"Turn around," she orders and I flip position on the toilet, straddling it to offer my back.
"This one isn't so deep, but…" She sucks her breath in over her teeth.
"What?"
"I think it broke your scapula."
"Don't worry about that," I dismiss. "As soon as the silver's out, I'll regenerate."
She goes still for a moment. "Silver bullets to kill a werewolf? That's a real thing?"
I don't answer, because she doesn't need to know about my kind. To distract her, I ask, "How old are you?"
"Twenty-five." She prods my wound and I hear the scrape of metal on bone.
"Pretty young for a doctor."
"I started grad school when I was seventeen."
"How'd you get into college so young?"
"Tutors." She drops another bloody bullet on the counter. "It's out."
"Still…" I do the math in my head. "Four years for a bachelor's degree-"
"Two actually. I tested out of a bunch of undergrad classes. Advanced track pre-med. Then I switched to genetics and a got a research internship."
I whistle. "So you're a genius."
She swabs the area with more alcohol and rips open a bandage. "No. Just driven. And I don't get out much." She strips off her gloves and studies me as I've been studying her.
"Skip the bandage. I think I'll take a shower." Blood is still crusted down my side and around the waistband of my black jeans. "Thanks for getting the bullets out."
"You're welcome. I'd say anytime, but I'd rather this not be a regular thing."
"Understood."
I pick up the duct tape and pull off a piece.
~.~
Layne
I GUESS I'm the stupid one for bringing the duct tape into the bathroom. I really thought he needed it for taping his wounds shut or something.
Still, I'm miffed as hell that he even thinks he needs to tape my hands. I put my hands on my hips. "I just pulled two bullets out of you. Are you seriously going to-"
He grabs my hands and presses them down on the bathroom countertop. Before I can pull away, he presses a long piece of duct tape over the top of them, securing me to the fake marble surface.
"That won't hold me."
Or maybe it will. I tug uselessly at it as he slaps a second and third piece on top.