Anomaly (Causal Enchantment #4)(18)

If you get past the desk nurse, you’ll be fine.

“And … if not?”

Then I’ll have to come and pry you off.

I bit the inside of my mouth, hesitation flooding my nerve. “They must have visitors’ hours. I can’t just walk in there like this.”

You can run past them without them even noticing! And if they do see you, then just compel them.

“I missed that part of the training course, Max,” I grumbled. How the hell did I compel someone?

Whatever you do, you’d better figure it out quickly. Remington just checked on them. Julian and Veronique are down to their last ten bags and I’m guessing Cecile and Brian won’t be willing to play sharesies.

“Crap.” We were fortunate that Max could communicate with his brothers telepathically, even at a distance. I sighed. “Okay. But when we get back, you need to teach me how to talk to you like that.” Caden and Bishop were able to talk telepathically with their werebeasts, back on Ratheus. There had to be a way for me to as well.

So you can order me around from afar? I’m so excited.

I headed for the main doors, my anxiety growing with each step, until my senses were so keenly aware of my surroundings—the lingering smell of the nurse’s cigarette, the creak of the revolving door ahead—I struggled to focus on the task at hand.

At about twenty feet away the faint beat caught in my throat, just as earlier today, in the woods behind the mine. Only this wasn’t the heartbeat of a black bear or two deer. It was the slow, rhythmic pulse of a relaxed individual.

And it didn’t bother me. It didn’t elicit any strong urges.

Still wary, I gritted my teeth as I quietly pushed through the door and moved into the front lobby, the single heartbeat growing louder with each step.

As suspected, there were visitors’ hours and, based on the prominently placed sign at the front desk, I’d missed them by a large margin. Before the heavyset receptionist could look up from her desk to tell me to leave, I bolted past, leaving only a swinging door behind.

I didn’t stop until I was beyond the “staff only” entrance in the hospital’s operating wing and standing within one of the operating rooms. It was empty—of people, of heartbeats, and of blood.

“If I were blood, where would I be …” I murmured, biting the inside of my cheek in thought as I searched the cupboards for hidden refrigeration compartments. I had never been inside a hospital, aside from my birth. By the third room, it was painfully obvious that keeping blood on hand in operating rooms was probably not standard protocol.

What if they didn’t even have blood in this tiny hospital? Kiril said the next hospital was sixty miles farther.

So intent on my worries, I missed the rhythmic thump until a woman in scrubs with short, sandy hair pushed through the door. “Excuse me. You can’t be in here!” She exclaimed, brown eyes glaring at me. She reached for the phone on the wall.

“Wait!” I called out, my hands raised, palms up in surrender as I edged closer. Her heart accelerated slightly, though not enough to indicate fear. Of course she wouldn’t be afraid of me. I looked like a simple eighteen-year-old girl.

Her fingers hammered out an extension. In seconds, there’d be a phone ringing in some tiny office with television screens and a retired cop who was probably half-asleep in his chair. Sure, I could simply run. No one would catch me. But then I’d have security on alert as I continued my search for the blood supply. What did that mean? A fight? Guns? I wanted to do this as quietly as possible.

She made it to the second number before I closed the distance and slammed my hand down over hers to the sound of crunching bone, followed by her cry of pain.

I gasped as tears streamed down her cheeks, her pulse doubling within three beats.

“I’m so sorry!” I cried out. “I didn’t mean to do that!” Her fingers, bent at awkward angles, were badly broken. When she held her hand up in front of her, her stifled sobs turned into wails.

“Shhhh!” I hissed, covering her mouth with my hand, as my ears caught the faint sound of footsteps in the hall. Still far away, but already too close for my comfort. With all the wailing, we only needed one person to walk past the door and alarms would be set off. I didn’t want to hurt anyone else.

The nurse’s sneakers squeaked as her feet edged backward toward the door

Yanking her farther into the operating room, I locked onto her terror-filled eyes. “Please! I need you to be quiet! Now!”

Her lips clamped shut and she silenced immediately.

I paused for a second, startled by how easily she’d obeyed. “I’m sorry about your hand,” I whispered, my ears now perked for more intruders. “I need you to tell me where you keep your blood.”

“Downstairs, next to the morgue. Room number one-oh-nine.”

Excitement sparked inside. I would have my hands on blood shortly. “And how do I get in there?”

“Take the stairs at the end of the hall. You’ll need my badge to get in,” she answered robotically. Gazing into her eyes, I noticed the cloudy swirl in her irises.

It finally hit me.

I’d compelled this nurse.

Despite everything, I giggled. I did it! And without anyone’s help!

Checking the name on the ID badge, I offered, “Thank you very much … Peggy. You’re going to go sit over there,” I pointed to the corner farthest from the door, “and you’re going to stay there quietly until that clock up there reads midnight.” My eyes flittered to her fingers, already beginning to swell. By midnight, her hand would look a fright. I wish I at least had an icepack to offer her. I had other concerns, though. If the fledglings broke free, I’d have more to worry about than one broken hand.