Wild Keepers Page 6

  And that meant staying a safe distance from this woman so that he could protect himself.

  Chapter Five

  The day wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.

  Allie stared into the microscope, fiddling with the knobs. Everything was going wrong. First, the blood samples from the people who had been admitted to the hospital the day before had not arrived by courier at the time they were supposed to. That meant delays in analysing the samples.

  They had word that there had been more admissions overnight. This mystery illness was spreading. It was the first time that she had seen Dr. Morgan be anything but polite and warm. He was curt, cutting people off when they were speaking, and had a harassed air about him. Allie felt a little sorry for him. It was a huge responsibility, being director of this facility, and he was obviously under pressure to find an answer.

  It didn’t help, either, that they were understaffed. Frances was still in the hospital; they had heard word that she was in a serious, but stable, condition. And that indeed what afflicted her was the same as everyone else.

  Davey had called in sick, too. Allie hoped and prayed that it was just a cold, but it seemed ominous. Davey knew the pressure they were under, and he didn’t seem like the type who would take a sick day just for the sake of it. It seemed highly probable that he had succumbed to it as well.

  Which meant that she had double the workload.

  She felt a surge of frustration. These blood samples were just as seemingly normal as the others. No presence of any strange bacteria or virus threads. The autopsy results that she had studied alongside Caleb Stone last night had shed no light on what was wrong either.

  She stood up, rubbing her neck. It wasn’t possible. All these people couldn’t be displaying the same symptoms and there was no cause. This illness was potentially fatal, and it was spreading rapidly. There must be something that she was missing.

  The lab door opened. She turned towards it, expecting a vexed Dr. Morgan barking at her for results. Instead, she saw Caleb Stone walk in.

  Her heart missed a beat. He was even more handsome than she remembered from yesterday. What was it about him? Why did she have this overwhelming reaction as soon as she laid eyes on him?

  They had chatted the previous night in the diner but had skirted any personal talk. After she had told him about her mugging, he seemed to grow more distant. Eager to get out of there and be gone. He was mystifying really. He had been the one to ask her to eat, and then he seemed to regret the decision.

  He had walked her to her car, making sure that she got safely in it, and had then turned and walked away without a backward glance.

  He must have decided that she was just not interesting enough to chat with. Whatever impulse had led him to ask her to the diner had vanished. Well, that was fine by her. She didn’t want to get involved with anyone, anyway. She was under the pump at work, starting a new life. Recovering from an attack.

  The last thing she needed was to develop a crush on a work colleague. A work colleague whose mood chopped and changed like the weather.

  Even if that work colleague was unbelievably sexy.

  She straightened her shoulders, staring at him.

  He wove his way through the tables, coming to stand beside her. He held two takeout coffees in his hands.

  “I thought you could use this,” he said, handing one of the cups to her. “Full cream milk, one sugar latte, right?”

  She took the cup, staring at him. “You remembered my order from last night.”

  “I’m observant,” he said, his eyes sweeping over her. “It’s part of my job. The devil is in the detail, as you know.”

  She took a sip. It was so hot it almost burnt her tongue.

  “Well, the details are escaping me with this,” she said, sweeping her hand towards the microscope and the samples that sat next to it. “I’ve examined them all, but so far nothing out of the ordinary. And certainly not anything that is common between them.”

  He sat down at her stool, putting his coffee cup down next to him. He leaned towards the microscope. “May I?”

  She nodded, sitting down beside him.

  He adjusted the switches, staring into it. “All seems to be in order,” he said softly. He looked up, frowning, drumming his fingers on the table. “I think we need to admit that it is not bacteria or a virus causing this. It’s something else.”

  “But what?”

  He stared at her, taking a sip of his coffee. His dark hair fell over his eyes slightly as he leaned towards her.

  “What were the other things that were considered?” he said. “Environmental?”

  Allie nodded. “Yes. But none of the people affected knew each other, worked together, or even lived in the same neighbourhoods.”

  “Fungal?”

  “I’ll test for common funguses, but most wouldn’t cause an outbreak like this,” said Allie. “Valley fever, for example, causes flu-like symptoms but is rarely deadly unless it spreads to other areas of the body. Even so, the chances of that happening simultaneously with several people? Unlikely.”

  “And it’s not contagious,” said Caleb, leaning so far back on the stool that she thought it might topple.

  Typical guy. They all loved doing stuff like that. Pushing things as far as they would go.

  “And then there’s parasites,” he continued, staring at her. “Now they are trickier.”

  “But again, they are not contagious,” said Allie. “The chances that a parasite would be picked up by all these people at the same time is not possible. Besides, while there are parasites in this part of the world, not many are deadly.”

  “But there are deadly ones in other parts of the world,” said Caleb. “It is possible that one could have been imported.”

  “Deliberately?” Allie’s eyes widened as she stared at him. “Is that what you are saying?’

  “Not necessarily,” he said slowly. “I am only putting it out there, that it could be possible. As you say, we have to consider all the possibilities. Time is ticking, Allie. More people are getting sick and more people are dying.” He stood up. “Come with me. Let’s go to the library, downstairs.”

  Allie stared at him. “What are we going to do?”

  “Research,” he answered, putting out his hand to her. “Come on.”

  She hesitated but took his hand. He pulled her to her feet, but she stumbled slightly as she rose, falling against him. Her breath stopped for an instant. She could feel his chest rising and falling, and smell his aftershave. Then she looked up into his eyes.

  She really shouldn’t have done that, she thought. It was like they had bewitched her, in some way. The green of his eyes was almost iridescent; almost not human. What a strange thought. A blush crept up over her face, deepening with every minute that she was transfixed.

  Caleb broke the spell, stepping back from her. He looked down at his feet.

  “This way,” he said, not looking at her again.

  Allie felt the breath coming back into her lungs, as if she had just broken through the surface of the water after swimming. She watched him walk towards the door, holding it open for her.

  Her legs could hardly move, and she was appalled to find that her hands were shaking ever so slightly. It absolutely dumbfounded her; she had never had such a strong reaction to a man in her life. It had been pleasant enough between her and Pete, but it had never been like this.

  What was this? She couldn’t even put a name to it with any certainty. Lust? If so, she didn’t recognise it. It was like a force of nature that you had to endure, seeking shelter from. Hope that the damage wouldn’t be too much and that you would survive. Like a hurricane or a flood.

  Did he feel the same way? But she looked at his hands, resting on the door. Waiting for her to pass through.

  They were as steady as a rock. No tremors. He obviously hadn’t felt the earthquake as she had. She wasn’t even sure he had noticed her at all.

  ***

  The Covenester D
epartment of Health library was in a large basement area, accessible by a narrow flight of stairs. Allie had been shown it on her first day when she was being oriented to the place, but she had not used it before.

  It was spread out, with bookcases and shelves filling the room. It wasn’t like a real library, thought Allie. In a real library, there would be a librarian, behind the desk. People sitting down, reading. Or studying. Allie had spent a lot of time in her college library. It had almost been her second home, especially in the last six months of her degree.

  This space was in darkness, and had a musty odor. Caleb switched on the lights beside of the entrance door, and Allie blinked as three fluorescent lights flickered on, flooding the area. She couldn’t imagine spending much time down here in the same way that she had at college. Being in a basement was kind of claustrophobic. Almost like a bunker.

  Her eyes swept over it. There were volumes of encyclopaedias, covering just about everything in the biological science world, as well as medical volumes. Several copies of Grey’s Anatomy, the essential medical textbook. In addition, there were rows of periodicals. It seemed the Department of Health subscribed to just about every biological science periodical that existed. Allie saw journals from as far back as twenty years. She sneezed, gently. This place didn’t look like it had been dusted in quite a while.

  “Hasn’t anyone heard of Google?” she said, wryly.

  Caleb laughed. “There’s a couple of computers over there if we want to cross reference stuff.”

  “What’s the plan?” she said, gazing around.

  “I think we have to think outside the box,” he said. “At anything and everything. But I have a hunch that this might be a parasitic infection.”

  “Why?” She turned back to him. “I mean, it’s possible, of course, but not probable. There’s as high a chance of environmental contamination or fungal infection.”

  “Allie, think,” he said, staring at her. “We’ve pretty much ruled out a virus or bacteria, unless something else comes to light. As you said, there is no commonality in the patients to suggest it has been caused by something in the environment. Fungal infections that are fatal are as rare as hen’s teeth.”

  “But there was no indication of an unknown parasite in the autopsy reports,” she said, slowly. “Surely it would have come up in them?”

  He shook his head. “Not necessarily. The parasite could be so small as to have evaded detection, especially if the examiner wasn’t looking for it.” He took a deep breath. “We’ll cover all bases, of course, but I think that should be our priority.”

  She took a deep breath. “It’s daunting, but necessary. Let’s get to it, then.”

  Caleb watched her pull a heavy book on parasites down from a shelf, settling herself at a table. He grabbed one himself, sitting across from her. The silence was so thick you could cut a knife through it, he thought. Silent and dusty. Not somewhere he would normally want to spend a lot of time.

  But then, this was different. He was here with her. Allie Holloway. The woman he had saved from a mugger—not that she realised, of course. The woman he had to work closely alongside, to help figure out this puzzle. He hadn’t asked for any of it, and yet it seemed that fate was conspiring to bring them together. So he might as well just go ahead and enjoy it, even if it was in a musty basement, filled with dusty old books.

  He saw the pucker crease her brow as she opened the book, which he realised meant that she was already absorbed. Concentrating hard. Her lips fell open as her eyes scanned the page, and he watched beneath lowered eyelids the stray tendrils of golden hair that had escaped her hastily assembled top knot.

  Being so close to her was dangerous. He had vowed last night in the diner that he would try to avoid it from now on, but the lure was too great. As much as he didn’t want to be near her, he wanted to. The push and pull of it was driving him a little crazy already, and he had only been here since yesterday.

  He could have sent her here by herself, of course. Or he could have gotten someone else to come with her. He didn’t have to be here; in fact, he had a thousand other things to do. He could have avoided the tedium of painstakingly searching for something—anything—in these books and journals. The job description of this undercover role didn’t cover hours trawling through books. A slow task that might not even reap any reward.

  He was here because he wanted to be near her. It was that simple, and it was that complex.

  He thought of the moment she had fallen against him in the lab. He had to fight to stop himself from pulling her into his arms. She was so close, and it had driven him crazy. He could smell the scent of her perfume, as if it had been magnified a thousand times. It had been a flower…a rose, perhaps? His senses were so heightened, like just before and after he changed into the wolf. He could even smell the coffee on her breath.

  The stirring in his blood was like the change as well. Like a liquid corroding his veins. Almost a mixture of pain and pleasure. Enticing. Addictive.

  He knew he needed to stop. Stop seeking her out, so obviously, and stop staying near her. It couldn’t go anywhere and would only end in tears. She was fully human, while he…he was only half that. Three quarters? They were not meant for each other and could only cause each other pain.

  His hand tightened on the spine of the book that he held. He didn’t want to remember. When it had first happened; how he had felt. The shock of it, the pain. The night he had realised that he wasn’t the person that he always thought he was…

  ***

  It had been a night like any other. A thousand that had gone before where he had slept soundly in his bed.

  Not this night. This night was destined for something else, something that he never would have dreamed possible. Something that would transform his life, utterly.

  He had just turned seventeen, and he had noticed changes in his body. Strange changes, but then what did he know? Maybe it was just a normal part of a boy’s adolescence; changes that they didn’t talk about with each other. Changes that they kept secret.

  First, he had grown noticeably hairier. Dark, coarse hair. His chest, of course, but also his feet. The knuckles of his hands. Even his toes.

  It had been embarrassing. His mother had remarked on it, one day, when she had seen him in shorts. She had laughed, making light of it, but he was self-conscious. He took to wearing long pants and shirts, in case others noticed.

  And then he had become aware. Smells. It became so intense, he could barely stand it. He would walk past houses and smell what they were cooking in their kitchens. He could smell a rubbish dump from miles away. And his hearing became sharpened so that he would wince at every small sound. Anything high pitched almost drove him crazy.

  But it was his eyesight that troubled him the most. Suddenly everything was illuminated. Like laser beams had been attached to the rods in his eyes. If he was out at night, he could see everything, as if he was a cat or a panther.

  It scared him, but he had no one to talk to about it. His parents would think that he had gone crazy. His friends the same. He lived in a small town, on the edge of the wilderness, and they didn’t tolerate anyone who behaved or looked differently. Conformity was the order of the day, and no one wanted to stand out.

  And then, the night when it had first happened.

  He hadn’t even noticed that it was a full moon, of course. Why would he? It meant nothing to him, other than a view to admire, absentmindedly.

  He had noticed the moonlight shimmering through the open curtains of his bedroom window. It seemed to be luring him. Enticing him. He didn’t know why he did it, but he climbed through the window, stealing out into the night.

  He ran. And ran. So fast that he couldn’t believe it. The woods beyond his house whizzed by so quickly, he felt that he was in a vortex, getting sucked horizontally. What was happening to him?

  And then, he was by the edge of the lake. The lake that he had come to all his life. He had swum here and fished here. Camped on its banks. All th
e regular things that boys do when they live out of town.

  He stared up at the moon, hanging full and low in the dark sky. White, with a smear of yellow through it. As if someone had dipped their fingers in there and smudged the yellow through. It was drawing him, that moon. Leading him into it…

  He had felt his skin expanding, and his clothes begin to rip. He had looked down at himself, appalled. Hair seemed to be growing out of his skin at an alarming rate. And he felt like he was being stretched and pulled. His whole skeleton was being ripped apart, and he was changing into something that he didn’t know, or understand…

  Afterwards, he had woken on the banks of the lake. Confused. Disoriented. His clothes were missing and in shreds around him. His whole body hurt, too, as if he had been over-exercising. He felt sick and had vomited into the water.

  There were scratches all over him. As if he had been running through the woods. Grazing branches, unwittingly. His head throbbed, and the nausea was overwhelming. What had happened to him?

  He had stumbled home, clinging to his shredded clothes and bewildered. Climbed back through his bedroom window and tried to go to sleep.

  He almost convinced himself it had been some aberration. A momentary loss of sanity. It didn’t happen again for another month. And then the full moon arrived, again…and the same thing occurred. The compulsion to run through the woods. The ripping and tearing of his skeleton. The hair. And afterwards, no memory of what had occurred, except a lingering sickness.

  He had hidden it, thinking he was a freak. Something to be spat on, or killed. What was he? He suddenly searched for signs on other boys—that they were going through what he was. But he couldn’t discern anything.

  One day, he had walked into the house to find a stranger sitting at the table. His mom making him a drink and putting cookies on the table in front of him.

  “Caleb,” she said excitedly. “Meet your Uncle Rich, all the way from the city! We haven’t seen each other in…my lord, it must be fifteen years, is it?”

  Caleb stared at the man. He had never heard of him. His mother’s brother? The man was large with a shock of black hair. A full beard. And eyes as green as his own.