Page 2 of Hart's Redemption

I gripped the steering wheel tight enough to make it creak, then let out a heavy breath and forced them to relax. My gaze settled on the quintessential English cottage before me. The place was a total throwback with its stone facade and picturesque shutters. Not even the modern renovations could diminish its charm. It felt like a lifetime ago since Josh had been so taken with the place. Of course, getting him to admit it had been like pulling teeth. The way his eyes had lit up brought a small smile to my lips, then my gaze caught sight of the truck bed in the rearview and it vanished.

I shifted the truck into gear and began the long journey I’d made every day, twice a day. At this hour, no one was awake, and I drove through a nearly desolate Adler Springs. I drove past Hair of the Dog, Josh’s favorite coffee place. Then, there was the precinct where he’d been working. The truck slowed as the apartment he’d been staying at flashed at me from a side street. The landlord had already boxed and sent everything back to the address Josh kept on file. I couldn’t help but wish I’d been brave enough to visit the place before that happened, but it was done now. All traces of Josh were gone, cleaned away for the next resident.

The Klamath County hospital rose up, a beacon of medical hope, with its white exterior and spelled windows that sparkled like gemstones in the early morning light. I drove past it and the already bustling parking lot, intent on an altogether different building.

The truck shuddered to a halt when I parked. I’d already ruled out an alignment issue, which meant it was probably the transmission giving out.

I’ll check it when I get back.

Which really meant that I’d stay up well into the night, barely eat, and try to steal a few hours of sleep before waking up to do it all again. But I’d do it anyway. I owed Eric that at the very least. He hadn’t batted an eye at offering me the truck, nor had he placed a timeline on the generosity. There was no telling what he was doing for transportation in the meantime, and anytime I asked, he put me off, insisting that my fixing up his beat-up ride was worth the sacrifice.

The doors whisked open with a hiss of sterilized air. I spared the receptionist a wan smile and earned one in return. She buzzed me in before I could scan my visitor’s pass. The echo of my tread bounced back to me from empty corridors that had become as familiar as my home. In hardly any time, I was once again in the same room I’d been in not five hours ago.

The night nurse blinked at me, astonishment clearly written on her face. She opened her mouth, but was cut off by the timely appearance of Dr. Lyons.

“Ah, Dr. Bennett, back again so soon?” the young doctor asked, her brown bob swaying as she stepped deeper into the room.

“It’s been three months, Dr. Lyons. I think you can safely call me Elijah.”

She smiled. “Of course, as soon as you call me Priscilla.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth and then vanished when my enhanced vision caught sight of movement behind the observation glass. I stepped up to the spell-reinforced surface, which thankfully was also a two-way mirror that hid the observation room from sight. “Any change?”

Dr. Lyons joined me, her human eyes scanning the shadowy room for what had caught my attention. As if sensing the weight of our combined gaze, a hulking mass of darkness stepped into the meager light filtering through the skylights.

Josh.

“No change. Though he tried to eat an orderly again.”

I let out an aggrieved sigh and braced my hands on the back of a chair. “Are they okay?”

She waved a dismissive hand, but didn’t answer.

“Any headway with Sabrina’s research?” My packmate’s internship under the famed Dr. Alec Wilson had afforded us a plethora of information regarding the lycan condition, colloquially called moon sickness. Less kind circles referred to afflicted lycans as moonforsaken. It was because of her experience with a recently afflicted wolf that we knew without a doubt that Josh was similarly suffering. Except in their cases, the genetic condition had been artificially induced.

Dr. Lyons perked up almost instantly. “Dr. Langdon’s notes have proven invaluable to my studies. Her work with Mein Zeke and how she disseminated the toxin that infected Detective Hart completely revolutionized our understanding of the condition. We can now confidently say that Detective Hart is neither infectious nor contagious.”

“And the other?” I asked, a tiny spark of hope burning in my chest. “How bad is it? Can you get him to change back?”

Sadness wafted from her. “As you know, there is no cure for Mein Zeke. Only the treatment. As it is, he’ll have you to thank for his life twice over when he finally resumes his human form. If you hadn’t been so quick to warn us, we would have administered the wolfsbane cocktail without question.”

She paused and stared through the glass into the enclosure that held my mate. After a few moments of silent contemplation, she continued. “But, Dr. Bennett–Elijah–I’ve seen nothing likewhat Detective Hart is experiencing. What ‌happened to him should have been impossible for a multitude of reasons. I fear that until we determinehowit occurred, we won’t fully understand how we can help him.”

I dropped my head between my shoulders, my spark of hope now barely more than an ember. “What am I going to do?”

“Sadly, the most I can advise is patience.”

I heaved a sigh, lifting my head enough to watch as Josh, in full werewolf form, tore apart his breakfast with a disturbing amount of savagery. It was a wonder any of it made it down his throat. “It’s killing me seeing him like this. He’s completely lost his humanity. He doesn’t–” I broke off as grief clogged my throat. “He doesn’t even recognize me. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.”

Dr. Lyons’ typical words of perseverance and hope were suspiciously absent. I glanced over at her and read the hesitation to speak.

Despite being burned countless times already, my abysmally small ember of hope reignited. “You have an idea. What is it?”

“I might,” she admitted reluctantly.

It had been weeks since we had a new direction to try. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” she cautioned, holding both her hands up. “You need to understand the risks first.”