Sevin: Mythical Ink Series (Book 2): Paranormal Shifter Romance Page 3

  Flashing a wide smile with teeth that couldn’t possibly be any straighter, Jennifer sidled up to her at the nurse’s station while David hung back, chatting with another nurse over a patient’s chart.

  “Hey, Janie. You’re here awfully late.”

  Pushing back from the counter, she hugged the patient’s chart close to her body, always feeling the need to hide as much of her imperfect self as possible from Jennifer’s sight. The self-confidence she carried for her work slipped through her grasp and into awkward discomfort the longer she stood in Jennifer’s presence.

  “Yeah, I worked over for Heather,” Janie explained, fidgeting with the edge of the file. “She’s a little under the weather.”

  “That’s so nice of you to help out.” Jennifer smiled again, this time with a tilt of her head. “I’m going to be here into the wee hours of the morning too. Working third shift is killing me, I can never get used to sleeping during the day. I must look a mess. I’ve only had a couple of hours sleep, and I’m already about to drop after two hours.”

  Jennifer’s idea of looking a mess was an entirely different definition than Janie’s. Not a single hair was out of place on the other woman’s head, and as far as under eye bags from lack of sleep—none. Jennifer looked as put together as she always did.

  How depressing was that? Janie looked like a bag of ass even when she tried to look like somebody.

  “You always look nice, Jennifer.” Janie forced a smile.

  The other woman glowed. “See. That’s why I like you so much. You’re such a sweetheart.”

  “Thanks,” she replied, shifting uncomfortably under the scrutiny. She didn’t feel like a sweetheart. More like a troll standing next to Miss America.

  For lack of something to do, Janie made a show of checking her watch. “Almost time to go. Rachel should be here any minute to take my place. So, I’ll see you later. Bye.”

  Rushing off, she bolted from the discomfort of standing in the woman’s shadow. It was rude to be so abrupt, but there was no putting the brakes on her need to vacate the area when her self-esteem was melting away under the vibrancy of Jennifer’s radiance.

  Besides, David had just wrapped up his conversation and was headed their way. No need to hang around and watch those two try to keep their affection for one another hidden from public view. The sparkle in David’s eyes as he looked at Jennifer was a real kick in the teeth.

  Her body loosened as she met Rachel on the way to the breakroom. Done for the night, she was exhausted and more than ready to go home and put her feet up. Maybe even indulge in a glass of wine—or two—to water her self-esteem back into existence.

  In her rush to leave, it took two tries spinning the dial to the correct numbers on her combination lock to get the thing to let go of its hold on her locker. Exchanging her squishy, white-soled, nurse specials for sneakers, she crossed the strap of her tote over her chest and headed out of the breakroom.

  Waving a few goodbyes, she skirted around David and Jennifer and shot straight into an elevator that had just opened like a friend waiting with open arms. Deep into each other as they were, they wouldn’t have noticed her, anyway.

  Down to ground level and out the double doors, the city was a living thing even in the wee hours of the morning. Merging onto the sidewalk with the other folks keeping late hours, she walked her usual route to the subway that would take her home.

  The ride from the Upper East Side to the Lower East Side wasn’t an unbearable inconvenience but reminded her again she needed to give up the apartment she’d lived in for years and move closer to work. Now that she was holding down a well-paying job, she could afford better, but she was comfortable in her space.

  Working her way out of the tunnel and up to street level, there was some sort of major activity going on at the corner of Delancey and Allen. Drawn to the flashing lights of the emergency responders, she became one of many rubbernecks as she turned in the opposite direction of home to see firsthand what was happening.

  She hoped it was just a fender bender, but from her vantage point, it looked like only a single car was involved. A pedestrian must have been hit.

  Stuck at the crosswalk that would carry her past the accident, a flash of silver pushed through the throng of people surrounding the scene. Many hands reached down, trying to grab onto what looked like a huge animal limping away, disappearing between two buildings. It appeared to be a large dog from what she could see over the shoulders of the people standing in front of her.

  The sign flashed over to walk, and she stepped off the curb, the crowd around her herding her over the crosswalk to the other side of Allen. As she was crossing, she got a better view of the accident.

  Whatever animal the car had hit had done major damage to the front end, shattered the windshield, and left a large dent on the roof. She hoped the dog or whatever it was going to be alright.

  Continuing down another block, she planned to cross over Delancey and head home on the opposite side of the street to avoid walking back through the scene when a man with a silver mohawk lurched out of the mouth of the alley she was about to pass.

  Janie stopped dead in her tracks and could only stare opened mouth.

  He was injured and… naked. Like, holy wow, calendar-worthy kind of naked except for the injuries that looked like they’d been inflicted by a train… or a car.

  Looking behind her at the scene surrounded by people, a second police car was just arriving. Turning back toward him, he must have just noticed her standing there and recoiled back between the buildings. Her medical training kicked her into action, and she followed after him to help.

  “Wait,” she called out, catching up to him quickly. He hadn’t made it far, dragging that injured limb of his. “Let me help you, I’m a nurse.”

  The man glanced over one muscled shoulder. One of his eyes had completely swollen shut, but the other eyed her warily as he kept lurching along on one foot.

  Good lord, he had to be in shock not to stop and allow someone to help him. It was quite possible by the looks of his thigh and the twisted angle of his foot as he dragged the appendage behind himself. His face was covered with cuts as well as his upper body, but the worst of his injuries was his left leg. His thigh was grossly distorted and beginning to swell. If her diagnosis was correct, he had a broken femur and would lose blood fast.

  “Hey… sir,”—she continued to follow after him— “you need a doctor. Let me help you get to the hospital. I’ll call for an ambulance.”

  “No.” He finally stopped his painful limping and leaned his shoulder against the building.

  “No on the hospital, or no on the ambulance?”

  “No on both,” he grimaced and coughed.

  Blood trickled out of the side of his mouth. She couldn’t tell if it was a product of his cough or from the lacerations on his lips.

  Palms up, she moved slowly toward him, inching ever closer to get a better look at his injuries without spooking him. He remained propped against the wall as she advanced on him, looking watchful and ready to bolt if she made a move he didn’t like.

  “Hey. Hi, there,” she spoke softly. “I’m Janie. Can I just get a look at your injuries?”

  He didn’t speak. His one good eye remained sharp and vigilant. As she came to stand in front of him, his eye narrowed on her face as if he recognized her.

  “Were you in that accident down the street?”

  Wrong question to ask.

  His momentary fixation on her vanished. Pushing off the wall, he began a wobbly trek down the alley, using the building for support.

  Janie didn’t let him get far. Reaching out to wrap her hand around his bicep, she tried to bring him to a halt. He was surprisingly strong for someone with extensive injuries, easily pulling free of her grasp and kept going.

  Not the least bit deterred by his stubbornness, Janie kept pace with him, visually accessing his injuries.

  “Going by the angle of your foot and the deformity to your thigh, your femur looks to be broken. You could bleed to death if it isn’t treated soon. I’m surprised you’re even able to stand much less walk, and going by the injury you’re sporting on the left side of your face, it’s possible you have a concussion and maybe damage to your eye. All the lacerations on the upper half of your body need to be cleaned and checked for debris. I’m going to guess there are bits of glass from a car’s windshield embedded in your skin as well.”

  The man stopped his hobbling. He glanced over at her before sagging against the building. His one good leg appearing to buckle beneath him as if her laundry listing his injuries had brought his current situation into perspective.

  “Janie, right?”

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “Will you please let me help you?”

  “I can’t go to the hospital.”

  “Why? Are you in some kind of trouble?” she asked. “And, what was your name?”

  “You could say that…”

  As he started listing to the side, Janie wrapped an arm around his tight waist, grunting as he settled his weight onto her.

  “Listen, I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, but you have to get medical attention.”

  “Promise me…”—the man’s eye began to roll back in his head—“no hos…”

  He weighed a hell of a lot more than he looked, his dead weight nearly taking her to the ground with him as he fell into unconsciousness. Controlling his descent, she eased him down to the asphalt as best she could.

  Shit! Now, what was she gonna do with a naked, unconscious man in an alley who was in some kind of trouble and was willing to risk his life and not seek medical help? Her eyes roamed over him as quickly as her hands, the nurse in her pushing past her uncertainty as she quickly assessed his injuries as the trauma patient he was.

  Until the woman in her got a gander at his sex.

  So, wow. He hadn’t been circumcised, and despite the fact he was flaccid, he was still something rather amazing to behold. From what she could make out of his features that weren’t distorted from his injuries, he was a seriously attractive man.

  Swallowing hard, she pulled off her coat, covering his lap, feeling like a complete pervert for sizing him up while he was lying there in need of help. Pushing back the woman in her panting and drooling all over the well-built man, she returned to her medical training and pulled free her cell phone.

  He had to go the hospital, that was for certain, but he had no identification on him—he had no freaking pants to slip a wallet into. He was in some kind of trouble, but she didn’t want to be the one to deliver him to the hands of the authorities or his enemies, either.

  Hitting the speed dial on the taxi service she sometimes used, she gave the address where she was and waited. Calling for an ambulance would draw too much attention.

  Why she cared about a complete stranger’s troubles was baffling to her sensible side, but when she gazed down into the handsome face of the stranger, her protective instincts kicked all logic to the curb.

  Brainstorming her next move, she wasn’t going to take him to Lenox Hill. There were too many people there who would recognize her. Remaining anonymous, for both of them, felt like the right answer.

  She would take him to Bellevue Hospital. It was closer to their current location, and the only person she knew who worked there would already be gone for the evening. Maybe she could claim he was a friend of hers who was mugged. And then what? Hit by a car?

  He was already going to be mad once he learned she had taken him to a place he had specifically asked not to go. But, really, why should she care if he was upset with her? She didn’t even know his name. He would most likely die on the street—if not from his injuries, from exposure. He absolutely had to have advanced medical care, and that was not going to happen in this dirty alley.

  Stretching her coat out over as much of his exposed skin as possible, she brushed back a lock of his hair. There was just something about him that made her want to help, to keep his secrets, whatever they were, and make sure he was safe.

  “Don’t worry, handsome, I won’t let anything else bad happen to you.”

  Her vow to protect him was nearly as shocking as the ultra-fine texture of his silvery hair.

  Sevin’s body was being dragged over a rough surface. The scuffing on the heels of his feet, he was moving backward, and the sounds of street traffic drawing closer were dead giveaways.

  Whoever was doing the dragging smelled amazing. Being the slut he was reputed, he was quite familiar with the fairer sex and knew instantly it was a female.

  There was a shuffling of his body before he was leaned against a hard surface. Whatever had been thrown over his lap was tucked in tighter around him, and a female’s voice told him she would be right back. His animal instincts told him to trust her, so he remained where he was.

  His left leg was beginning to go numb, and that concerned him, but he didn’t have enough energy to act on it. Nor did he have the strength to crack open his one eye that wasn’t throbbing like a second heartbeat.

  That sweet, floral scent was back, and he was being moved again. The female pulled him a short distance, then stopped and wrapped her arms underneath his, lifting him up with a hearty grunt.

  A gasp was heard, then a man’s scent joined the female. That pissed him off. Whoever this prick was needed to get the fuck away from her. Normally not the jealous type, it surprised him when the urge to tear the throat out of this guy hit him from out of nowhere.

  More grunting and pulling until his butt hit and slid across a cushioned surface. His body being repositioned hurt like a bitch, and he groaned from all the jostling. His head and part of his torso were raised and laid on the female’s lap.

  The female spoke out a location he didn’t track. Her voice was soothing and kind, the sound of it relaxing despite the pain he was in. Then her hand began to pass gently over his hair, her fingers smoothing down the long strands of his mohawk.

  Mmmm… that was nice, he thought despite the throbbing of his head, sting of the cuts that covered him, and the numbed-out ache of his fucked-up leg.

  The drone of a car engine and the rock of the vehicle he had apparently been loaded into lulled him into a light doze. From a great distance, a warning was screaming inside his skull to stay awake. Wasn’t falling asleep always warned against if you had a concussion? Hadn’t the female, Janie, said he might be suffering from one?

  As hard as he tried to focus on staying lucid, the stop and go of the vehicle acted like a rocking cradle, luring him toward the nothingness of sleep.

  The shuffling of his body by what felt like many hands jarred him back to consciousness. The lifting of his body sent pain sharp as daggers throughout his limbs, bringing him fully back to the present. Moved onto a padded surface, he was covered, foot to neck with cloth, and something was inserted into his nostrils that blew clean air into him, blocking out the odors of the city. It was nice, but it also masked the scent of the female he was already growing strangely attached to.

  Gathering every ounce of strength he possessed, he sluggishly lifted his arm and pulled free the tubing, and taking a deep breath, picked up her scent through the others that surrounded him.

  Some guy scolded him gently, tucking his arm back under the covers and tried to replace the tubing.

  Fuck him! Sevin needed to know where she was. He didn’t so much as turn his head as flopped it to the side in the direction of her lush scent.

  “Janie…” As weak as his voice was, his call was answered.

  His Janie was suddenly there, fishing under the covers to find and squeeze his hand, reassuring him in her sweet voice she was right there with him, promising not to leave his side or to let anything bad happen to him.

  More comfortable with his situation, he allowed the other humans to work on him. The plastic tubes were put back in place inside his nostrils, and although he could no longer catch Janie’s scent, he could feel her hand on his as the cushioned platform he was lying on began moving forward.

  Shit! He was being wheeled into a hospital. He didn’t have the energy to fight as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

  Janie was handed all kinds of paperwork and asked a ton of questions about the man who was still clinging to her hand even though he was completely unconscious. Answers to simple questions were beyond her, she had even made up a name for him. Kevin Jones was just something that had popped into her head, and since she had nothing else to go by, she went with it.

  She had also concocted an elaborate story about who he was and where she had found him. To be able to remain with him no matter where the hospital put him, she lied and said he was her husband and carried different health insurance. Since he was mugged and all of his clothes were stolen, she claimed there was no insurance card on him and to just mail the bill to her address.

  The lies had flowed so easily out of her mouth, she didn’t recognize her own voice as she spoke them. It was like she had been possessed.

  Now that she was sitting quietly beside his bed as they waited for him to be released, she knew what had done the possessing. It was him, all of him—his square jaw, his perfect profile, the strange color of his eyes, well, eye, but she had to assume the other one was of the same hue, the crazy silver he’d dyed his hair, the tattoos that sleeved his arms and covered parts of his chest, and his spectacular build that left her mouth dry.

  Shifting around in her hard, plastic seat, she absolutely refused to think any more about what was hanging between his legs.

  Had the hospital just turned up the thermostat or was all the hot and bothered just her?

  The man moaned in his sleep and turned his head toward where she sat. Inhaling deeply, his nostrils flared, and she had a fleeting thought he was smelling her.

  That was ridiculous, she silently argued with herself. Men couldn’t do stuff like that. Besides, he was badly injured. Even if he could pull off that impossibility, he was in no shape to be interested in her. Heavily dosed with morphine, the most he would be doing is floating in a fuzzy lethargy that came with those drugs.