“Thanks.” He was touched, and a warm glow spread through him as she turned to go. Maybe she was more of a friend than he’d believed.
Continuing his rounds with renewed energy, he noted it was time to check on their wounded tiger shifter. Now there was a poor bastard who was in pitiful shape. Leonidis had been brought to Sanctuary several weeks ago, and they’d been unsure if the bodyguard would survive the grave injuries he’d sustained while on a case in the area. His sister and brothers, all big cat shifters, owned and operated a private security firm in St. Louis, and had been rotating through the hospital constantly since the attack. Noah couldn’t fathom how they were getting much work done at their place of business.
As Noah walked into Leo’s room, he saw it was empty for a change. The family was probably resting, worn out as they must be. Nick Westfall, the Alpha Pack’s commander, had offered them the use of a couple of rooms at the compound to save them from driving back and forth from town any longer, and they’d gratefully accepted.
The big shifter was sleeping, breathing on his own now, heartbeat steady and strong. He looked good today, and might awaken for a while, as he’d been doing more and more each day. Noah busied himself checking vital signs and recording them on the man’s chart. All routine.
Checking his notes one last time, Noah placed the chart on the rolling table and walked around the bed to change Leo’s IV bag. Working efficiently, he removed the used one, replaced it with a full bag, and connected the tubing to initiate the drip.
“Poison,” a deep voice growled from the bed. “Traitor.”
Noah froze, the hair prickling on the back of his neck. Slowly, he lowered his arms and turned to face the man. Leonidis was awake, sitting up, watching him with a predatory gaze, pupils slitted vertically. Not a good sign. Alarm spiked through Noah as he spotted razor-sharp claws emerging from the fingertips of the man’s huge hands.
“I’m your nurse,” he began, heart clenching in fear. “My name is Noah—”
“Liar!” With a roar, the man shifted into his tiger form faster than Noah ever could’ve imagined he was capable—and launched his massive body from the bed, straight at him.
“Shit!”
Noah threw himself to the side just in time to avoid being slammed by the huge beast, but his foot caught on the bottom of the IV stand, sending him and the unit crashing to the floor. Rolling to the side, he frantically fumbled for the emergency alert button hooked to the waistband of his scrubs and depressed it. Then he scrambled to his hands and knees and dove forward, trying to get underneath the bed.
A huge paw came down on one thigh, and a searing pain tore through his leg as the claws ripped into his muscle. A ragged scream ripped from his throat as he was dragged backward to what would be certain death if he couldn’t get away.
“Leo!” Noah yelled, grabbing for a hold to stop his backward slide, and finding none. “You’re in the hospital! You’re safe, I’m not going to hurt you!”
His pleas fell on deaf ears. The tiger was in complete control, out of his mind with rage. Noah twisted his body, trying to kick the beast in the face with his free leg, but only managed to piss off his attacker more. Then came a break. The tiger roared, retracted his claws and lunged again, presumably for a better hold.
For one split-second, he was free.
Throwing himself under the bed, he kept himself as far out of range as possible. In tiger form, Leonidis was much, much bigger than the bed and couldn’t push all of himself underneath the frame. Even so, the furniture offered scant protection from the sweeping claws that plunged toward him again and again.
Propelled by the assault, the bed shot backward into the wall with a loud bang. Noah pushed himself as far against the wall as he could, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Feral eyes regarded him from a broad, orange and white face striped with black, and the beast’s lips peeled back, revealing long fangs that would rip him to shreds.
Then the big cat lunged again, rattling the bed. The claws caught Noah once more, slashing him from shoulder to hip. He screamed again and curled up on the floor, his mind shutting down against the horror of dying this way. Agony laid him open once more, and he drifted.
Distantly, he became aware of pounding boots. Shouts. A big cat screeching in anger, then a brief silence.
And then a voice, so dear to him, calling his name.
Begging him to hold on.
*
Washing the Pack’s Escalades sure beat the hell out of fighting demons.
Problem was, the menial task gave Nix way too much time to think. Too many hours to daydream about an adorable nurse with shaggy blond hair that constantly flopped into his big sky-blue eyes. Eyes set in the face of an angel with a killer smile and infectious laugh, and a tight little body that—