Bane's Choice (Vampire Motorcycle Club #1) - Alyssa Day Page 0,9
almost-certainly dying patient, instead of watching in disbelief as the hottest yet most terrifying man she’d ever seen in her life somehow hypnotized her and stuffed her in the beige visitor’s chair?
Sure.
Great.
That little detail was going to go over great with the hospital review board. She could see it now:
“And then, sirs and ma’ams, the tall, blond hunk of muscle and sex turned invisible and disappeared. Yes, with my patient. No, I was too busy being whammied by his glowing blue eyes at the time to be able to stop him.”
“I’m totally fucked.”
“Would you like to be?”
She jumped and whirled around to face the doorway, where yet another decidedly non-hospital employee leaned against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans, staring at her with glowing eyes.
Glowing green eyes this time.
What the hell? Had she hit her head, too, and not just her shoulder?
This one was tall, dark, and definitely dangerous, with a sinful grin quirking up sensual lips. He probably had to fight off women wherever he went.
Oddly, though, her mind flashed back to the other one. The one who’d stolen her patient. He’d scared her, but she’d been drawn to him…
She shook her head once, sharply. What was wrong with her?
“Usually I get a quicker yes to that question,” the jerk at the door drawled.
Question?
Oh. Right.
“Look, asshole, whoever you are, get out of this room. Now.” She strode over to the wall by the bed and punched a button to call security. “I don’t have time for you.”
“Seems like you’d be more courteous to the public,” he observed, his smile fading and something that looked like shock widening his eyes. “Also, what are you?”
“I’m a doctor. And it seems to me that you’d have heard of the Me-Too movement and realized that leading with a question about whether I’d like to be fucked is grounds to get a punch in the face.”
“What? Look, I know humans may not be able to see it, but your skin is decidedly luminescent. What are you?”
She stared at him in disbelief. “I said, I’m a doctor. And I don’t have time for you now. Visiting hours are long over, anyway.”
She took a deep breath and turned and scanned the room again, realizing the futility of it even as her brain refused to accept the truth: her patient—burned so badly he almost certainly wouldn’t survive, even with the help of every resource she had in the state-of-the-art Burn Unit—was gone.
And she’d let it happen.
She heard the sound of masculine throat clearing and glanced back at the doorway. To add to her fantastic evening, the pervert wasn’t leaving, either.
She sighed and put a hand on the wall phone. “I’ll just call security, and they can help you find your way out, okay?”
“Fine,” the man at the door snapped. “Let’s do it the hard way.”
He stalked into the room toward her, but she was too freaked out to be afraid, even though he was well over six feet tall, only a few inches short of the first man, who’d been enormous. This one was all muscle and cheekbones, too, though. Was there a gladiator movie filming somewhere nearby missing a few actors?
She held up a hand to stop him. “Look—”
He stopped but then, in a movement so fast she nearly didn’t see it, he grabbed her wrist and leaned close. “You saw nothing.”
“I saw nothing?” She was too dumbfounded to even yank her arm away from him.
“Exactly.” This time his smile spread across his entire face. “Perfect.”
With that, he turned and walked out the door, and she heard his footsteps as he headed down the hallway.
Apparently, he’d taken her question as agreement.
He’d been very, very wrong.
She’d seen everything, and she wasn’t talking about this guy, either. She’d seen the man who’d somehow—some insane way how—stolen her patient. And she was going to find Mr. Evans if it was the last thing she did.
…
Three hours later, Ryan collapsed in a haze of boneless exhaustion onto the couch in the living room of her late grandmother’s ridiculously luxurious townhome on Lafayette Square, in one of Savannah’s wealthiest neighborhoods. Thirty-six hours on call, and that was all before the supernatural-patient-snatching incident. Now she’d spent three hours, first at work and then at home on the phone and computer, trying to figure out what the hell had happened.
She’d found nothing.
Nobody she’d talked to had admitted to seeing either one of the intruders.
None of the staff had admitted to seeing or treating Hunter Evans.