Zeus's Pack 9: Rave (2 page)

The man in the navy-blue paramedic uniform began to talk, but Logan couldn’t hear anything beyond the deafening ringing. He pointed to his ears. “I can’t hear you.”

The paramedic nodded.

That gesture didn’t answer his question. For all he knew, the man was just acknowledging that he understood that Logan couldn’t hear him. Although he was really praying the man nodded to affirm that Hunter was all right.

Another man, dressed in the same navy-blue uniform as the man by his side, came to squat at Logan’s head. The next thing he knew, Logan was being lifted. A black wave of nausea washed over him, and Logan closed his eyes, fighting not to vomit as he was placed on the board.

He swallowed a few times, the foul taste of vomit heavy in his throat as he was loaded into the back of the ambulance. As the doors began to close, Logan saw a man dressed in a black and expensive-looking suit watching him. It was nicely tailored. He had a black silk dress shirt underneath the jacket and one of those extremely thin, bone-straight, black ties running down the front of his shirt with a silver tie clip. The tie clip was the only color that stood out.

Everything else was the color of nicely creased darkness.

His dark eyes locked onto Logan’s, his expression indifferent as the ambulance doors closed, cutting off Logan’s view of the man. He closed his eyes and allowed the paramedics to work on him as the ambulance pulled away, rocking him back and forth as it rushed toward the hospital.

Logan was in and out of awareness as he was unloaded, placed on a gurney, and then wheeled into the emergency room. The ringing was slowly dying down. It was more like a soft hum now. But it was still hard to hear what people were saying. He caught bits and pieces, but nothing that he could use to string together what had happened to him or why.

A dark-haired man came into Logan’s line of sight, smiling down at him. Logan smiled back. There didn’t seem to be anything else he could do. The doctor in his white lab coat flashed a penlight in Logan’s eyes, nearly blinding him.

“What hurts?” The sound was muffled, distant, but Logan had made out the words.

“My entire body,” he replied.

The doctor started pressing into his stomach, feeling around.

Logan groaned, but managed to stay still. He watched as the doctor began to move his lips and then turned away, making it impossible for Logan to read what he was saying. The doctor’s voice wasn’t loud enough right now to catch any words, so Logan had to try and decipher the words from the man’s lips, if only he’d turn back around.

Would he understand the medical analysis anyway? Probably not.

The gurney began to move again, taking him inside an elevator.

Logan opened his eyes, and he was lying in a bed in some sort of room. Had he passed out? If he had, for how long? The walls were white, the sound of machines beeping all around him.

Logan could hear. God, he was thankful for that. Not being able to hear sucked. His head still throbbed and his body still ached, but he could hear. It was better than nothing.

Sliding from the bed, Logan realized that he was tethered by an IV and wires. He was in a hospital. He stood there on shaky legs, wondering if there was any permanent damage to his body. That had been one hell of an explosion.

And that only reminded Logan of the stranger standing in the crowd, wearing his crisp black suit with the silver tie clip, staring at Logan as if he didn’t matter. His eyes had been the color of charcoal and reminded Logan of something cold, something dead.

“I see you’re up and about.”

Logan turned, taking a long second before he remembered where he’d seen the man before. The dark-haired man was the doctor that helped him in the emergency room.

“I’m Doctor Samuel.”

“Logan Albinster.”

“Ah, now we have a name to go with the patient.”

The voice was pleasant, light. It made Logan relax as he stared around the room. “What’s wrong with me?” He’d never needed a hospital in his life. He knew what they looked like, but he’d never been a patient before. The IV alone was bothering him.

“Nothing.” The doctor smiled kindly at him. “We’re just keeping you here as a precaution. All of your tests have come back negative.”

There was something in the way the doctor had said
negative
. As if that wasn’t quite the word he wanted to use. Logan wanted to ask what the doctor was hiding, but honestly? He just wanted to get the hell out of there.

The place felt sterile, cold, and unforgiving. All Logan wanted to do was go home. He wanted the wires off of him, the IV out of him, and his damn clothes onto him. If they weren’t burnt to hell from the explosion.

“I’m ready to leave.”

The doctor sat down slowly onto a shiny chrome stool, a polite smile on his face. “There’s a problem with that request, Logan.”

“And what problem would that be?”

The doctor had said his tests were all negative. He was up, feeling fine, and ready to leave. What was the holdup?

“The problem would be your blood work. I’ve run it three times but it’s still coming back with irregularities.”

Again, Logan had the distinct feeling that the word
irregularities
was not what the doctor had wanted to use. He was tiring of the game.

“Just tell me what’s going on. I need to get home.”

Dr. Samuel shook his head, confusion marring his handsome face.

The guy was handsome, after all. There was no denying that fact.

“I wish I knew, Logan. But I’d like to keep you here until I can figure out what’s going on inside of you.”

Inside of me?

Logan wasn’t going to stick around and be the doctor’s guinea pig. Someone had tried to kill him. They had blown his work truck up, and he had nearly died. From the immense pain he had felt in his head and body, he was surprised he was standing here breathing.

There was no way he was going to let the doctor poke at him for days on end. He was tired, sore, and ready for a hot bath.

“No thanks. Just give me my clothes, and I’ll sign anything you want. I’m going home.”

“I won’t force you to stay, Logan. But as your doctor, I’m advising you to let me run more tests.” Dr. Samuel stood, his body slim, but Logan could tell the man held an air of authority around him. That still wasn’t going to make him stay.

“I’ve considered your advice, but I’m saying no. Now give me my clothes or I’m going to walk out of here with my ass flapping in the wind.” And he would. Logan had been to a hospital once when his grandmother fell ill. He remembered the cold way she was treated, as if she was a pincushion instead of a living and breathing person. She had died in that hospital, and no one had really done anything to help her.

He wasn’t going to die here while Dr. Samuel played pincushion with him. If something was wrong with him, then something was wrong with him. If the
irregularity
was going to kill him, he’d rather die at home.

Morbid, but true.

“Very well,” Dr. Samuel said as he crossed the room, shoving his hands into his white lab coat. “But if you feel
off
, please come back.”

Not going to happen.
“I will.”

A sly smile reached Dr. Samuel’s lips before he walked out of the room. Somehow the doctor knew Logan was lying through his teeth.

He didn’t care. Logan just wanted to go home.

A nurse came into the room and removed his IV, not before flushing it out first. Damn, that burned. She plucked him clean of the wires and looked at him as if she wanted to argue his leaving. She had papers for him to sign and then pointed over to a closet. “Your clothes are in there.”

Logan crossed the room and opened the door, staring at a clear bag at the bottom of the shallow closet. He pulled his clothes out and winced. His shirt was a bloody mess, torn in a few places with scorch marks thrown in for good measure.

His pants weren’t in any better shape. The leg that had been exposed to the flames was ripped and the edges singed. At least his shoes were unscathed. He would look one hell of a mess, but he would be covered. Now all he had to do was call Cal for a ride.

If the man answered his phone.

Cal was an expert at letting the call fall headfirst into voice mail.

Logan would never understand the man. He slept with his phone at his side, but never answered it. He was a very weird man, but Logan’s only friend.

He really couldn’t complain.

Well, he could, but only Cal was there to listen. He couldn’t rightfully complain about Cal to Cal. It just didn’t come across the same through voice mail.

Once he pulled on the remains of his clothes, Logan used the phone by the bedside to call his friend. Logan was half tempted to lie back down in the bed and rewire his body for signs of a heart attack when Cal answered the phone.

Miracles really did happen.

“Dude, it’s all over the news. The reporter said your work truck was blown up and that the explosion took out half of the hardware store. Is it true?”

“I’ll tell you all about it in the car.”

“That means you need a ride.”

“Yep.”

“And where are you?”

“At the hospital in Pride Pack Valley.”

“So it’s true!”

Logan rolled his eyes skyward. He really didn’t feel like going over the events with Cal. All he wanted to do was go home and get some sleep. But Cal was his only ride, so he’d suffer through it. He had met Cal at the lumberyard where they worked. Cal was quiet, reserved, and a bit on the strange side, but Logan needed a roommate to help pay the bills.

Cal had agreed to move in, and they had been friends since.

Although not one would consider them close friends. Cal did his own thing, but the man was good for a ride, when he answered his damn phone.

“Just come get me, moron.”

“On my way.” Cal hung up the phone.

Logan replaced the receiver and headed toward the door. He could wait for his friend outside the confining walls that felt like they were closing in on him. Following the signs to the exit, Logan found himself standing out in the coolness of the night. It was late spring, but not warm enough yet to be without a jacket at night.

And he was without a jacket.

He’d deal with the coolness of the night. It was better than stepping back into the hospital. The doctor just might change his mind and haul Logan back in, kicking and screaming.

It could happen.

Logan leaned against the side of the building, trying to get out of the breeze and stay out of Doctor Frankenstein’s sight. He wrapped his arms around his chest, hoping to stave off some of the cold entering him.

He smiled when he spotted Cal pulling in front of the hospital.

The man knew how to get here quickly. Somehow Logan knew Cal was closer than he had let on because there was no way he made it from the place they shared to Pride Pack Valley that damn fast. He walked away from the building, waving at his friend in the small red Nissan.

Cal nodded and pulled closer to Logan.

As Cal pulled to the curb, Logan caught sight of the man dressed in the expensive black suit. It was the same man from the blast site.

He was leaning against a car in the public parking lot, his eyes drilling into Logan like he wanted to kill him.

Logan quickly climbed into the car, closing and locking the door behind him. “Just go.”

Cal lost the smirk. It slid out of place with a frown replacing it.

“What’s wrong?”

That was a very good question. “I’m tired.”

The Nissan pulled away from the curb as Logan glanced across the parking lot. The man was gone. He sat back and breathed a sigh of relief until he heard a loud thump on the roof of the car and then it sounded like boulders were falling from the sky. The nose was loud, and dents were appearing in the roof of the car.

“Shit. What the fuck is going on?” Cal shouted as he began to slow down.

“Speed up!”

Cal looked at Logan like he had lost his mind. He just might have.

The sound of something hard hitting the roof repeatedly echoed all around them, getting louder by the second. Cal sped up, stealing worried glances at Logan as the noise reached an unbelievable level.

When the roof almost caved in over their heads, Cal began to shout, swerving the car back and forth across the road.

Logan knew the man in the black suit was on top of the car, trying to pound his way in. With what, he wasn’t sure. If it was his fist, they were dead men. “Hit the brakes!”

Cal shot him a questioning glance but slammed the brakes hard.

Logan’s head cracked against the windshield. He had forgotten his seat belt.

Logan gaped as someone rolled from the roof and hit the ground in front of Cal’s car. The headlights were shining brightly, washing the road ahead of them with lights as the car idled. They both screamed when the man stood in front of the car, just popping up like a damn jack-in-the-box. He stared murderously at Logan, his shoulders tight, his eyes blazing with hate.

“Go!”

“I’ll hit him,” Cal said in a panicky voice.

“If you don’t move this damn car, I have a feeling neither of us will live long enough to care who you hit.”

Cal hesitated and then gunned the gas, the tires squealing as the car lurched forward. The man jumped on the hood and then ran over the car until he was standing behind them, growing smaller as Cal smashed his foot into the damn floor, the car gaining speed.

“What the fuck is going on, Logan?”

“Hell if I know.” And that was the god’s honest truth. Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. He glanced back again, but the man was no longer in the middle of the road. He turned around in his seat, buckling himself in as he let out a long and steady breath.

This day was so screwed up. He almost preferred zombies.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Rave stood there listening to Max, the shifter doctor who not only worked at Pride Pack Valley General, but who was also mated to Bald Eagle and Chey. Max was a lion shifter, and a damn good doctor, but Rave didn’t understand why the soldiers were called there.

Zeus, the alpha of the wolf pack, stood there with his hands on his hips, looking just as confused as the soldiers were. “What did you find, Max?”