sense previously undiagnosed diseases in hospital patients. He then had to find a way to discreetly ensure that the patient underwent appropriate testing.
He was almost always correct.
Did Grace have that ability? The fact that she no longer hinted that she might be a shifter made him more suspicious that she was one.
Not that it mattered. Not really. He had too much to hide from her to play games with her, no matter what rules she seemed to be imposing these days.
“Too bad, Grace,” he muttered aloud. He would love to believe they’d get together again soon, and often, for sex.
But for his self-preservation, even if she suddenly became interested again, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Dr. Andreas? This is Lotty Gail. I’m the head nurse on duty at the Charles Carder E.R. tonight.”
Grace was in bed at her quarters on the air-force base. She had been lying there for what felt like hours, her mind too keyed up to allow her to sleep. “Yes, Lotty?”
“Sorry to bother you so late when you’re not on call, but we’ve got some emergency cases that just came in. We’re drawing blood for tests, but the problem seems to be some kind of infection. There are four patients, and all we have here at the moment is one resident. Could you—”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Simon received the call on his cell phone while he was finally walking home to his apartment that night. He turned back toward the hospital immediately.
As he reached the door to the E.R., he saw Grace approaching through the parking lot. “Do you know what’s happening?” she asked.
“Only that there’s some kind of outbreak.” He held the door open for her, and she hurried in, her silver-blond hair shining beneath the artificial hospital lights. Her determination and dedication appealed to him. Hell, everything about her appealed to him—when their topics of conversation didn’t hint of shapeshifting.
Lotty Gail, the nurse in charge that night, rushed toward them, looking harried. She was a small, middle-aged woman with whom Simon had worked in the E.R. before. She always seemed a little nervous, but her competence was unwavering.
“You’re the doctors and have to make the final diagnosis,” she said, “but the patients are all in one family that went camping and came back with this. They have rashes and other symptoms that look to me like the outbreak of Rocky Mountain spotted fever back in 2004. The mother did say she was grossed out when they found ticks in their sleeping bags.”
“Sounds possible,” Grace said, and Simon agreed.
They both went immediately to the clean room, where they donned sterile clothing, disposable gloves and face masks. Then they divided up who would see which patients. Simon got the father and older son, and Grace got the mother and younger son.
The E.R. resident was in the cubicle with the father when Simon arrived. While keeping up cheerful banter with the patient, the resident conveyed to Simon what tests he’d taken and the man’s vital signs, and Simon checked the chart that had been started.
He then went to consult with Grace. The nurse’s preliminary diagnosis appeared potentially correct. They would not wait until test results were back, but would begin treating these patients with appropriate antibiotics immediately.
Simon couldn’t help wondering what would happen to the blood and other fluid samples taken from the patients after they were tested. Would they become yet another target for the thieves?
Rocky Mountain spotted fever might not present as much of a risk as an extreme strain of shigellosis as the basis for a biological weapon, since it could be treated more easily. But that hadn’t stopped the thieves before. The fact that it was passed along by ticks might stop them, though—if the thieves knew that.
In any event, the disease rated a biohazard level 3, so that might make it attractive to whomever was stealing samples here.
Simon was glad he’d had even a brief opportunity before to work on his own pills. A secretive wolf just might be the most appropriate observer of the storage building if the samples were again taken there before incineration.
“Yes, sir,” Grace said to Major Drew Connell over their secure satellite phone. She had him on the speaker.
It was early morning, and she was back in her quarters with Tilly—along with the rest of the Alpha Force contingent at Zimmer Air Force Base. They’d had to pull Autumn in. She had been on duty under her cover assignment of being a communications officer.
“We know the risk