The Patient Is a Shark [Shape-Shifter Clinic 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  “I want to. Wynter, I care for you more than I could ever have imagined I would care for someone I’ve known less than a week.” Rainer leaned over the seat and held out his hand to Wynter.

  Quinn kept his head facing the road so wasn’t sure what they did, maybe just touched hands or something, but the emotion was thick in the car, and he knew both of them were sincere. The lust was so strong his cock was trying to drill its way out of his jeans. He wiggled a little in his seat, spreading his legs wider apart, but it didn’t seem to help. He wanted to fuck Wynter, too. They had to be so careful of her, but she was so patient and strong mentally he couldn’t help but admire her. And she was damn sexy as well.

  * * * *

  Everyone was quiet for a long while after that. Rainer had the hard-on from hell. He’d loosened his jeans and tried to give his equipment more space by opening his legs, but all his cock wanted to do was get inside Wynter. She was so sweet. Inside she was tough and feisty, facing pain and difficulty with a deeply mature attitude. He longed to hold her and make the pain go away so she could be happy again.

  The thought of double fucking her with Quinn was almost enough to make him come. Oh, how good would that be, the two of them working together to give her the best orgasm of her life. And likely the best orgasm of his life, too, as a bonus side effect.

  By the time they stopped for gas, he was hungry again. “Shall I find us a snack in the cool packs or picnic basket while you’re getting gas?” he suggested.

  “Why not put them in the backseat with me, and I can get us some food while we keep going. It’ll save time,” suggested Wynter.

  “Won’t you be too crowded with them there with you?” Rainer worried that she’d be in even more pain than she was already. She was so uncomplaining, but he knew her leg hurt her all the time even with the pills he was giving her.

  “I can sit in my seat properly while I sort out the food, then put the containers on the floor and lie down again after we’ve eaten.”

  “If you’re sure.” But he would watch to check she wasn’t putting too much stress on that knee.

  He watched her walk to the ladies room. She was so brave, moving slowly, her body absolutely upright, but he knew how much it must be hurting her. As soon as Quinn got back from paying for the gas, he hurried into the men’s room himself and followed Wynter back to the car, hurrying so as not to hold them up. Quinn had already set the cool packs and picnic basket on one side of the backseat, leaving her space to sit with her leg stretched out. There was just enough room for her to slide between the basket and the cool packs.

  “Oh, well done,” he said. Quinn grinned and closed the door behind her. Rainer jumped in the car quickly and pulled out his cell phone. There were no turnoffs for hours yet, but he checked the traffic website to make sure there was no construction or anything on the next part of the route. “The road’s all clear. No construction or road closures,” he said.

  “Good.”

  “Oh, wow, there’s enough food for an army here.”

  “Good. I’m starving,” said Rainer. It seemed like forever since they’d eaten breakfast, even though it was only a bit over four hours.

  Rainer turned in his seat to watch Wynter delving into the containers, unwrapping foil parcels and generally having fun. That was good. He was hungry enough to eat just about anything, but she was obviously enjoying choosing their snacks for them, so that was great.

  Finally a paper plate was handed to him with a cold cooked chicken drumstick, a slice of cold meatloaf, and a scoop each of potato salad and coleslaw. A cob of corn completed the meal. “You’re right. It’s a feast. I’ll feed this one to Quinn and keep the next one for myself.”

  “Rainer, tell me about where you grew up. You both know I’ve lived up and down the coast, and I know Quinn has a farm, what about you?”

  Rainer handed Quinn a forkful of potato salad and said, “Typical Middle America and therefore completely boring, I’m afraid. My dad worked in an office and Mom was a teacher’s aide in an elementary school. She deliberately chose the job so she could be around for my sister and me before and after school and on school vacations. I didn’t want to spend years and years at college, so I worked a few different jobs before training as a personal care attendant. When I saw the advertisement for the shape-shifter clinic, it sounded like such a wonderful idea that I wanted to be part of it. I can’t imagine anything better than shifters being treated by a doctor who truly understands them.”

  “And now someone is trying to stop that,” said Wynter.

  “Oscar’s cousin George. I don’t understand what’s wrong with the man. When their grandparents died he was given the shares and money and Oscar got the property, but he seems determined to take the clinic away from Oscar,” said Quinn.

  “Maybe there was no money left in the investments?” Wynter suggested.

  Rainer shook his head. “No, Oscar had that checked, and although he can’t know for sure George didn’t blow it all on gambling or something, there was plenty of money there at the time they inherited. I think it’s likely spite. He wants it all.”

  Rainer just didn’t understand George. At times it seemed the man was almost insane, threatening them. Somehow he’d circumvented the wolves’ security and found out Wynter was going to the clinic. How did that happen? It’s not like she’d made a big deal about it.

  “Wynter, did you tell people you were coming to Thorne House Clinic? How did George know about it?”

  “That’s just it. I didn’t tell anyone the name of the clinic. I don’t live with a community of shape-shifters, and no one knows I’m a shark. It’s not exactly the kind of thing you say to a casual acquaintance!”

  “The wolves seemed pretty upset someone had found out,” said Quinn.

  “Yes, sending that man to meet us at the airport, that indicated concern all right. So did giving us those special business cards so we can call for help.” Rainer frowned. He really hoped the wolves were working on the problem. It was weird that George knew about Wynter. Really weird. The wolves seemed to think he’d bugged their phone, but that was a pretty far-fetched idea. More likely some friend of his had told him. “Is George a wolf, too?” he asked.

  Chapter Five

  Wynter was leaning back on her pillow, nibbling her corncob. Every now and then she almost panicked, worrying that somehow the clinic wouldn’t be there when she arrived, that George would have succeeded in taking back the land and closing it down. Or that the attorney would be wrong and it had never belonged to Dr. Thorne at all. That she would have come all this way and still couldn’t have the operation she needed.

  She was going to be in a real mess if that happened. No longer near the ocean to swim every day, with no money and no job—she’d go mad if she had to think about that. There was no hope for her at all.

  Guilt stabbed through her. What about all the people who worked there, those who had given all their time and energy to help people like her. I’m so selfish! I could manage somehow or other. I’d survive. What about all those other people?

  Wynter sat up straighter when Rainer asked his question. She’d never even thought about whether or not George Thorne was a wolf. She’d just assumed because Oscar was a werewolf shape-shifter that George would be one, too. But that was crazy. They were cousins, not brothers.

  “How silly of me. I’ve always just assumed he was. Is he, Quinn?”

  “Isn’t that the joke about the word assume? It makes an ass out of u and me? I have no idea either. It’s never occurred to me to ask anyone. If we were at work I’d ask Ambrielle, but I don’t like to text her such a frivolous question.”

  “Maybe the wolves where we’re to stay tonight will know?” Rainer suggested.

  “Yes, but that’s the same problem. It’s just idle curiosity to ask, not really our business, is it?”

  “No, you can ask. George Thorne has interfered in your life, so it’s only fair that you should know whether he’s a human or a shape-shifter,”
said Quinn firmly.

  Wynter smiled to herself. That’s the Dom in him taking charge. She liked the way he took control of things sometimes. He was never arrogant, although there was the underlying idea he knew what he was doing. But it was more he wanted to make life easier for her. And she liked that about him. About both of them. They were wonderful companions. She was really being totally spoiled on this journey.

  But that didn’t take away her fears. The underlying questions were still there, still as real as ever. Why did George Thorne believe the clinic should belong to him? Why was he telling her she shouldn’t go there? Why her? Did he know something about her? Was he even telling the truth? Was crossing the country with these men the wrong thing to do after all? Was it possible George was correct and she should have stayed at home in California and patiently saved her money for this operation? Saved money how, when I can’t even stand up properly, let alone work?

  Wynter looked down at the bags of food surrounding her. It was more food than she’d seen in a month, and it was only meant to last the three of them for one very long day. Actually I have no choice. If I want to be healed, this clinic is my only option. I have to trust that they’re in the right and George Thorne is in urgent need of a mental-health assessment.

  * * * *

  After they’d finished eating, Wynter tidied up the containers of food and put in the rubbish in a plastic bag. Then she stretched out properly on the backseat and made herself comfortable again. That was one of the advantages of being five foot four. She actually fit quite well on the seat. If she’d been as tall as either of the men she wouldn’t have.

  “Rainer, how long have you known about shape-shifters? I’ve never met another shark, although my father has.”

  “I’d never heard about sharks either until Oscar said you were a shark, but there was a boy at school who I was sort of friends with. He stayed by himself a lot and wasn’t really with any of the in-crowds, neither a nerd nor a jock. We used to talk to each other in class sometimes, were partners in chemistry for a year, and got on okay together. Then one day some kids were teasing him and called him a lone wolf. He really snarled. I mean, like a dog snarls, or a wolf, and he screamed out, ‘I’m not a lone wolf, I have a pack,’ and then he ran away. I thought about that all night, and I think I must have guessed over time just from knowing him that he was a paranormal because it seemed to fall into place quite logically that he was a wolf. We stayed friends until the end of the school year, then he left.”

  Wynter was nodding to herself as he spoke. “I think that friend of yours was like my father. When my dad gets angry the shark shows through in his face and his attitudes. That’s why we left so many places all through my childhood, and why my parents are still moving from place to place. It’s also why I never ever allow myself to get really angry.”

  “Does your shark show when you’re annoyed?” asked Quinn.

  “I don’t know. If I’m really cross I’m hardly going to be looking in the mirror right then, am I?”

  “Probably not,” agreed Quinn.

  “What about you, Quinn? When did you find out about shape-shifters? It’s difficult for me to comprehend a clinic full of people who know about shape-shifters when I’ve lived my entire life hiding that side of myself.”

  “The patients are all shape-shifters, and most of the original staff was, too, but there’s a group of humans there as well now. The first was Ambrielle, who’s partnered with Oscar and Danny Davies, the clinic carpenter. You’ve heard us talk about her. She’s the office administrator.”

  “Yes, she’s the one who e-mailed me with the travel details. And you didn’t answer the question.”

  “I’m getting there. I’d say maybe one third of the staff is human, the rest are shape-shifters and most of them are wolves. Most of the patients are wolves, too. But that may simply be because Oscar is a wolf and has links to the wolf packs. Harry’s a bear.”

  Wynter paused to think for a moment. Yes, she had heard that Ambrielle was partnered to two men, and she thought she may have heard the name Harry, but this was all very interesting to hear again. Of course, the most interesting thing of all was the fact that Quinn had still not answered her question. Oh, he’d chattered away on the topic, but he’d talked about the clinic, not himself. And she’d really love to know why. But she didn’t think she should push him any further to answer her question. She did still have some manners after all.

  She had so many things to think about. First, why was she so attracted to the men? She was like some hormonal teenager only interested in getting into their pants at every opportunity she could get. Yes, she could blame the pain medication, yes, their scents were extremely attractive, and yes, it’d been a damn long time since there’d been a man in her life. But that wasn’t really the whole story. She wasn’t a slut or a harlot. She wasn’t the kind of person to jump into bed with the first available deliciously yummy man. So why was she doing it? And why would she do it again tonight?

  Second, there was the whole worrying situation about the clinic and whether or not she’d be safe there if George really was determined to close it down. She felt so helpless not knowing what she could do to ensure they arrived safely, that she had the surgery, that she’d be healed, and that the clinic would be safe to continue healing other shape-shifters.

  And finally, what would the future bring? Would she be able to work to pay off her debt of honor to these people? Should she come back to the coast she knew or make a new home in Ohio? And if she did stay there, how would she swim in winter? Didn’t the lakes ice over up there? How could she deal with that?

  * * * *

  After they’d stopped for gas the second time, Rainer had driven for a while so Quinn could rest. He’d napped for an hour or so, but mostly he’d thought about Wynter and his determination to get them into a proper bedroom scene tonight. He couldn’t understand why he wanted her so much. She was beautiful in face, figure, character, and determination, but he’d met other women like that. None had called to him they way she did. He was beginning to think about how he could take her back to his farm to recuperate after her operation.

  She swam happily in four feet of water in the swimming pool last night, although she’d said she preferred to be deeper. His little lake was around four feet deep except at the end with the pump. There it was more like six, seven if it was completely full. He’d already hired a Bobcat digger to make it deeper for his horses and one of his dogs, a Great Dane. But he could hire it again and easily excavate it another couple feet for his shark to swim in.

  Quinn grinned to himself. Yes, she’d known he hadn’t answered her question about shape-shifters, but the story wasn’t his to tell. Maybe if she stayed at his farm, Toby would—Nope, he wasn’t going there at all.

  “See that dirty white pickup two vehicles back?” asked Rainer very softly.

  Quinn glanced in the side mirror and nodded then looked back over his shoulder. Wynter’s eyes were closed. He hoped she was asleep. “Uh-huh.”

  “It’s been sitting there for twenty minutes now. The car between it and us has changed a few times and each time it drops back so it’s not immediately behind us.”

  “Well, likely they’re the same as us, content to sit on the speed limit rather than ignoring it like so many other travelers.”

  Rainer shot him a look that clearly said, “In your dreams.”

  “How much gas have we got?”

  “A little less than half a tank.”

  “The next service area might be a good place to fill the tank, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I thought. Also we’ll get a look at the license plate if the pickup pulls in as well.”

  Quinn nodded. “More than that. You go with Wynter to the ladies room and guard her. See if you can get the license plate and even a picture of the pickup but only if they can’t see you do it. I’ll fill the tank as usual. If they continue to follow us, we’ll phone the wolves and let them know.”

/>   Inside Quinn felt a bubble of dismay. He’d never actually believed there’d be any trouble other than Wynter’s health to worry about. He hadn’t really believed the wolves’ warning. Even now this might be nothing, just a driver who didn’t want to travel any faster than the legal limit. The only reason they were traveling at the speed limit was because they had such a long journey they couldn’t afford to be collecting speeding fines all the way across America. The driver of the pickup might just be a law-abiding person who always traveled at the regulation speed. Just because most people were passing them didn’t mean there was an evil reason this person didn’t.

  But he hadn’t convinced himself. Suddenly he was working hard to decide how he could protect his people if trouble happened. Quinn checked the traffic website then called up the map on his cell phone. It didn’t make much sense to leave the highway. For a start, he didn’t know this area at all, and besides, the Interstate was a much better road and he was much more likely to be safe on it. Riding around the back roads they might end up in gang territory or on a dead-end route or any one of a dozen other problems. Hell, even a flat tire could be bad news for them. Nope, much better to stay on the Interstate.

  Wynter woke up as they stopped the car at the gas station. Rainer helped her out as usual and walked with her to the ladies room. She didn’t complain. Perhaps she was still not really wide awake.

  Quinn turned sideways to the car as he filled the gas tank. In the windows of the service center he could see the other cars, and right at the farthest gas pump the dirty white pickup was also filling its tank. Wynter and Rainer weren’t back when he finished, so he washed the windshield and had just finished as he saw them walking back.