Buried and Shadowed (Branded Packs #3)(61)

“I don’t care where he is,” she countered. “I was sent here to speak with him.” She lifted the phone, pretending to punch in a series of numbers. “If I need to make a call to the SAU, I will.”

The guard’s face paled. “The SAU?”

She shrugged. “They are the ones who asked me to conduct this interview.”

Licking his lips, the guard glanced over his shoulder, obviously more scared of the SAU than his boss at the hospital.

“Don’t call,” he said at last. “I’ll take you to the ward.” Grabbing a walkie-talkie, he lifted it to his mouth. “Jenson, take over for me,” he ordered. Then, with a jerky motion, he turned to lead them across the tile floor. “Follow me.”

In silence, they moved toward the door, pausing for the guard to punch a combination of buttons on the electronic lock before they entered the main part of the hospital.

There was another lobby, although this one had comfortable suede furniture and large plants to add a hint of hominess. The front desk was empty, but she could hear the sound of approaching voices.

The guard thankfully headed directly toward another door, this one leading to a stairwell.

Quickly moving forward, she breathed a silent sigh of relief as the door shut behind them.

Climbing the stairs, Sinclair remained close behind her. She savored the heat of his body that wrapped around her. It helped to ease the fear that was a hard knot in her belly. She’d never done anything so daring in her life.

It was nerve-wracking.

“I always knew it was a matter of time before the authorities showed up,” the guard said as he led them up yet another flight of stairs.

“Why do you say that?” Mira asked, depending on Sinclair to keep a watch for danger while she concentrated on pumping their companion for information.

The guard glanced over his shoulder. “They can say the patient is in isolation because he suffered from some sort of mental trauma, but we all suspect that it’s something else.”

Ah, good. A man who liked to gossip.

“What do you suspect?”

He lowered his voice, not seeming to notice that it still echoed through the stairwell.

“The return of the virus.”

“Do you have any evidence?”

“We have a lot of crazies,” the guard told her. “Most of them are locked in the east wing. Why wouldn’t Medlen be with the other loons?”

She squashed her instinctive distaste. Now wasn’t the time to inform the man that he had no business working in an institution that cared for the most vulnerable people if he didn’t have any compassion.

“Have you ever seen him?” she instead demanded.

“No. And that just proves my point,” the man said, beginning to huff and puff as they reached the fourth floor. “All the other patients are taken out onto the grounds during the day. Even those who are in wheelchairs. All of them except Medlen.”

Reaching the top landing, they were forced to halt as the guard punched in another series of numbers on the electronic pad. There was a click before the door slid open.

They entered into a waiting room that had furniture that was more functional than fashionable. Across the tiled floor was a wall made of frosted glass with a steel door in the middle.

“You’ve never seen him?” she asked as the guard came to a halt in the center of the floor.

“Not once.” The man shrugged. “As far as I know, only his sister ever goes into his room.”

Sinclair moved to stand at her side, his hand on her lower back.

“No one else has visited him?” he demanded.

“Not that I know of,” the guard answered. “’Course I’ve only been here about five years.”

Mira silently commended Jessica. If she was hiding her husband, she’d done a hell of a job. Clearly, no one knew anything about the mysterious patient.

“Do you know how long Mr. Medlen has been here?” she pressed.

“One of the older guards once told me that he’d been in that room for at least twenty years.” Inching his way back toward the door to the stairwell, the guard nodded his head toward the far wall. “The man is through there.”

Mira sent him a startled glance. “Aren’t you going to unlock the door?”

“I don’t have a key,” the guard said. “As far as I know, only his sister can get in.”

“But…” Mira’s words trailed away as the guard pulled open the door and darted away.

Like a rat leaving a sinking ship.

Giving a shake of her head, Mira turned her attention to Sinclair.

“Can you get us in?” she asked.

He gave a slow nod, his attention focused on the door slamming behind the retreating guard.

“Of course,” he said, his voice distracted as he slowly turned his head to meet Mira’s gaze. “You’re sure there’s no chance that we might be wrong?”

She frowned in confusion. “About what?”

“Could this really be a patient with the virus instead of Dr. Lowman?” he demanded. “As much as I want to expose the SAU, I won’t risk another pandemic to do it.”

She reached out to lightly touch his arm. She loved the fact that he was concerned for the humans. After all the ghastly things they’d done to the shifters, no one would blame him for condemning them to hell. But that wasn’t who he was.