Cougar Bait Page 23

  “What if . . . what if I don’t choose to take it?” She asked in a low voice.

  He shrugged. “Then you’ll have to deal with your monthly cravings yourself as best you can. I don’t favor a ‘friends with benefits’ relationship with you.”

  “Of course.” She looked down at the syringe again, as though she were considering it. “And our bond? I mean, the whole feeling-you-inside-my-mind thing?”

  “Is already fading,” Keller assured her. “Through continued disuse. A Shifter life-bond is like anything else—if you don’t use it, you lose it. However, I am prepared to hasten the process for both your comfort and mine.”

  “Hasten the process? How?” Her eyes flew up to his.

  “By blocking you.” Keller had a hard time getting the words out, but he forced himself to say them anyway.

  “Blocking me? What does that even mean?” she asked, closing the padded case and pocketing the syringe.

  “It’s a talent only Alphas have, and the closest thing Shifters have to a divorce,” Keller told her. “It involves raising a mental barricade around the part of me that is bonded to you. Walling it off, so to speak, until it withers completely away.”

  “And this block—this wall—it works immediately?”

  “It depends on how determined you are,” Keller said grimly. “And let me tell you, Samantha, I am extremely determined to forget you and move on with my life.”

  “I see.” She glared at him defiantly. “Then do it. I’m tired of having you in the back of my mind all the time—it’s like having an uninvited houseguest you can’t get rid of.”

  Her words stabbed him deep, but Keller was determined not to show it.

  “As you wish.” Closing his eyes, he zeroed in on the part inside him that was bonded to her. It was like a dying garden that no one tended. Grimly, he pictured himself building a barrier around it—brick by brick, walling it off until he could no longer feel her warm, golden presence at the back of his mind.

  It was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. And the entire time he worked, he heard the other half of himself, his Cougar, growling in anger and anguish.

  Why? Why are you pushing away our female? Our mate?

  She doesn’t want us—doesn’t want me, Keller told his beast sternly. Be still.

  At last it was done. When he opened his eyes and looked at Samantha, he no longer felt her presence in his mind, and he knew she didn’t feel him either.

  “There,” he said, his voice dry and harsh. “You’re dead to me now. As I am to you.”

  “Good.” Samantha got up abruptly, grabbing her tray in a sudden move.

  “There’s no need to go,” Keller forced himself to say. “I’m leaving myself—you can stay and finish your meal.”

  “I lost my appetite.” Tears were glimmering in her blue eyes, and he wanted desperately to take her in his arms and comfort her. But he couldn’t anymore, Keller reminded himself. He had relinquished his right to her, he had given up any hold or claim he had ever had on her. He had blocked her.

  God, he hated himself.

  “I have to go.” Samantha turned blindly away, stumbled once, and put a hand to her belly.

  “Are you all right?” Keller asked sharply. Despite the fact that they were estranged, he couldn’t stop the stab of concern for her he felt.

  “Fine.” She straightened up with an obvious effort. “Just a little too much comfort food, I guess.” She gestured to the mac and cheese, which looked untouched to Keller. “I’d better go check the ER—this is around the time on Friday night the MVAs start coming in.”

  “Good-bye, Samantha.” They were his final words to her, and they nearly stuck in his throat. Somehow he forced them out.

  Samantha had already turned away from him, holding her tray of uneaten food in one hand and her belly with the other. She didn’t look at him as she spoke.

  “Have a nice life, Keller,” she said in a dead, flat voice.

  Then she walked rapidly away—out of his life forever.

  * * *

  The minute she was sure she was out of Keller’s sight, Samantha dumped her tray blindly on an empty table and rushed to the bathroom.

  This can’t be happening! It can’t be!

  She found an empty stall and pulled down her scrubs, staring at her lower belly. It wasn’t as flat as Sadie’s had been—Rejuvenation had smoothed out the lumps and bumps of aging, but it hadn’t made Samantha skinny. Though she was slimmer than she had been as a forty-year-old, she still wasn’t slim enough to tell if she had a “baby bulge.”

  I imagined it, she told herself. All that drama with Keller is making me crazy.

  Thinking of him made her reach mentally to that place in the back of her mind where she’d felt him since the fateful night of their breeding and bonding . . . but there was nothing there. It was like poking an empty socket after a tooth has been pulled—instead of Keller’s warm, solid presence, she felt nothing but pain.

  My God—he really did it. He’s really gone. How much must he hate me right now?

  Almost as much as she hated herself.

  I never should have let him go, Samantha thought, still staring down at her lower abdomen in a kind of daze. But he wanted to go. I was so sure he was here to ask me to come back. Instead he just wanted to be free of me.

  She thought of the syringe in her pocket—he must have been working day and night to get it ready, desperate to give it to her and break their bond, desperate to forget her and their brief time together. He—

  A small bulge in her belly caught her attention and wiped all other thoughts from her mind. No, surely she hadn’t seen that. It was stress . . . exhaustion. . . .

  It happened again. A little bulge like the tiniest foot in the world had kicked out restlessly. It was a barely there movement, and anyone else would have missed it. Samantha might have missed it herself except that she didn’t just see it—she felt it. There was a fluttering inside her, like a hummingbird beating its wings.

  The baby! My baby!

  A feeling of protectiveness like nothing she had ever felt suddenly flowed over her. A fountain of love she hadn’t even known existed had been tapped—it welled up inside her, filling her completely. Her ambivalence about becoming a mother seemed to magically disappear, like a dark shadow melting in the sun. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but she also knew she was up to it—somehow she would make it work.

  Samantha gazed at her belly in awe. Was this a Shifter thing? This instant love and protectiveness? This joy? She had a sudden strong urge to go tell someone—to tell Keller.

  I’m pregnant! I felt our baby move!

  Instinctively, she reached for him again . . . only to find that same empty, dead spot.

  Gone . . . he’s gone. I’m going to have his baby and he doesn’t even know. Doesn’t even care.

  She remembered his cold words on the subject—“If there’s a child, you may do what you please with it. . . . I will of course send you monetary support if you choose to keep it, but you may have the raising of it entirely.”

  Suddenly she found that instant joy and elation weren’t the only strong emotions accompanying her new knowledge. Before she could stop herself, she burst into tears. Slumping down on the cold toilet seat, she buried her face in her hands.

  Keller—what have I done? I drove you away because I was too afraid to let my life change. Too afraid to accept your love or let myself love you back.

  And now his love had turned to hate. He couldn’t wait to block her—to kill the bond they shared. He just wanted to be free of her, and Samantha didn’t blame him.

  She sort of wished she could be free of herself.

  Fiona was right. It was a gift—Keller’s love was a gift, and I threw it away with both hands. God, what an idiot I’ve been! What a—

  “Dr. Samantha Becker to neonatal, STAT,” the nasal voice of the intercom said, booming into the bathroom.

  Samantha, who had been sobbing so hard her shoulders sho
ok, made an effort to pull herself together. Neonatal? Why the hell would they want her there? As a trauma surgeon, it wasn’t a department she often had to visit. In fact, she didn’t think she’d ever been paged there.

  Who cares why they want you there—you’ve got a job to do. Now get up and go do it!

  Grabbing a wad of tissue from the dispenser, Samantha mopped at her eyes. Pulling her scrub bottoms back up so they covered her belly, she went out to the sink and splashed cold water on her face. She was trying not to look like she’d just been bawling her eyes out, but she didn’t think the water helped. Even if she could magically get the redness and swelling to go away, the misery she felt was still written all over her face.

  All right. Everything is going to be all right, she told herself sternly, trying to compose her features. Just get back to work. You can worry about the baby and everything else later.

  Taking a deep breath, she blotted her wet face with paper towels and strode out the door. She headed for the neonatal unit, trying not to feel the pain that was trying to overwhelm her completely.

  Trying to ignore the feeling that she’d made the biggest mistake of her life.

  Chapter 22

  Keller stalked down the long hospital corridors, headed for the exit. He hated the entire world at that moment, himself most of all. Damn Samantha for being so eager to let him break their bond! And damn him for breaking it.

  He couldn’t forget her words—“I’m tired of having you in the back of my mind all the time—it’s like having an uninvited houseguest you can’t get rid of.”

  He’d made certain she was rid of him as he was rid of her—it was what they both wanted. So why did it hurt so damn badly? Why couldn’t he make himself forget her and just move on? Why—

  A strangely familiar scent caught his attention. A scent that raised the hackles at the back of his neck and made a low growl rise in his throat.

  Keller stopped dead in his tracks, causing two orderlies wheeling a patient on a heavy, cumbersome hospital bed to weave around him. One of them threw him an unfriendly look as they passed, but Keller didn’t even notice.

  No, he thought uneasily. Surely not—it can’t be. It’s your imagination. . . .

  The past was taunting him—teasing him with memories best left buried. Shaking his head, Keller continued toward the exit. He would ignore all distractions, imaginary and otherwise, and get out of here. He would let Samantha fade out of his life for good, which was exactly the way she wanted it.

  He made it all the way out of the hospital and was in the act of unlocking his car when his cell phone buzzed. Keller ignored it; he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now—or ever again, for that matter. He just wanted go back to his jet and fly back to New York, where he could bury himself in his work and forget everything—forget Samantha once and for all.

  The cell buzzed again, insistently, as he was starting the car. Keller pulled it out of his pocket impatiently, wanting to silence it or turn it off completely. But when he looked at it, he saw it was Sadie’s number. God, would he ever get away from things and people that reminded him of Samantha? He nearly turned the phone off, but something made him answer it instead.

  “Hello?” he growled. “I don’t really have time for—”

  “Keller, it’s me—Sadie,” whispered a faint, frightened voice from the other end. “I have such a bad feeling about Samantha. Such a bad, bad feeling. . . .”

  * * *

  “And you’re sure no one up here called for me?” Samantha frowned at the nurse behind the desk at the neonatal station.

  “Why would we?” The young nurse spread her hands. “Dr. Patel is our on-call resident for tonight. Why would we call a, uh—what did you say your specialty was again?”

  “Trauma. I’m a trauma surgeon,” Samantha said, trying to keep her temper. This was another problem with looking younger—she appeared to be a know-nothing intern still wet behind the ears from med school, so that was how the nursing staff who didn’t know her tended to treat her. Honestly, she didn’t miss the aches and pains and gray hair she’d lost when she Rejuvenated, but looking like she was twenty instead of forty was definitely not an asset in her line of work.

  “Okay, sorry, trauma surgeon.” The nurse shrugged dismissively. “But we didn’t call you. I mean, why would we need you? This is neonatal.”

  “I’m perfectly aware of what department I’m in,” Samantha snapped.

  She wondered briefly if her own baby might end up here. How complicated were Shifter pregnancies and deliveries? To hear Fiona tell it they could be tricky. . . . No, I’ll think about that later.

  She tried to push the thought aside, but it kept popping up again, like a balloon floating into her line of sight. I’m pregnant . . . I’m really pregnant. What am I going to do?

  Shaking her head at the clueless nurse, she stalked down the hallway, took a left and headed for the elevators. She was in the new wing of the hospital, which had just finished construction, and so far only the neonatal department was here.

  Samantha had been up here once before and had seen the private birthing suits the hospital had added as an incentive to expectant mothers to have their babies at TGH. They were nice, ultraluxurious spaces made up to look like a tastefully decorated sitting room rather than a more traditional operating theater-type delivery room. In fact—

  A horribly strong hand reached out from a side corridor, grabbed her by the back of her hair, and yanked her to her knees.

  A cry of pain and shock burst from her lips, but a cold palm slapped over her mouth before she could even get it all the way out.

  “Now I’ve got you, bitch,” a familiar voice hissed in her ear. “And this time you’re not getting away.”

  Chapter 23

  “Now then—we’ll be nice and private in here.”

  Samantha’s attacker had dragged her down a long, empty corridor and into one of the fancy birthing suites. She had fought and kicked to get away, but he’d slapped a pair of handcuffs on her wrists and a piece of duct tape on her mouth. Then he shoved what she was certain was a gun in the small of her back. So she was silent and helpless when he finally shut the suite door behind them and pulled off the surgical mask he’d been wearing to conceal his features.

  Though she’d been half expecting it, Samantha’s eyes still widened in shock when she saw him.

  Lounds!

  Samantha shook her head. How was he still alive? She would have bet almost anything the wounds he’d sustained and the amount of blood he’d lost would have finished him off—especially cut off, as he was, from any medical aid.

  “Bet you’re wondering how I’m still alive after you made me shoot off my dick and left me bleeding on the floor,” he spat, glaring at her.

  Briefly, Samantha nodded.

  “My little secret. You see, my Shifted form may look Hyena—and it is, for the most part. But I have Cougar blood in me too. Not enough to look like one of those mangy Cats or smell like one, but enough to have some of their healing abilities.” He gave her an angry grin. “So even though it hurt like hell, I was able to Shift and keep myself from bleeding out after you left me for dead.”

  Samantha shook her head, knowing there was nothing she could say to appease him. Not that she could talk with the damn duct tape on her mouth.

  “Shifting has a wonderful way of healing you, even after a serious injury,” Lounds went on, in a conversational tone of voice. “But you know what it can’t do? It can’t regenerate lost body parts.”

  Still holding the gun on her with one hand, he fumbled to unfasten his trousers and yanked them open. Where his penis should have been, there was only a stubby, scarred lump, less than an inch long.

  “Do you see?” Lounds screamed in her face. “Do you see what you did to me, you fucking bitch?”

  Samantha flinched. She wanted to protest that this wasn’t her fault—he’d shot himself, after all. What did he expect her to do—sew his dick back on so he could rape her with it?<
br />
  I don’t think so, asshole, she thought, glaring at him. You did this to yourself.

  “Well?” Lounds raved, waving a hand in front of what was left of his penis. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Reaching out, he grabbed the corner of the tape over her mouth and ripped it off.

  Samantha gasped at the sudden pain. It was like having her eyebrows waxed, but about a hundred times worse.

  “Well?” Lounds shouted.

  She knew she ought to say something conciliatory—try to talk him down or quiet his rage. But she was too angry.

  “What do you want me to say?” she demanded. “That I’m sorry you shot your dick off? Because I’m not—you were planning to rape me right after you finished ‘harvesting’ the weird nectar stuff you forced my body to produce. I’m glad you can’t hurt me or anyone one else like that ever again.”

  “Just because I’m minus my equipment doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you, Samantha,” Lounds snarled, refastening his trousers. “But as for breeding you, it appears that someone has beaten me to that particular privilege.” He frowned. “It was Keller again, wasn’t it? I suppose he’s your ‘mate’ now.”

  Not anymore, Samantha thought, and wished desperately it weren’t so. If only she could call on Keller now for help! But when she reached to the back of her mind where his presence had once been, it was still cold and empty. It was like looking at a garden where all the plants had withered and died.

  “It won’t do you any good to call him,” Lounds said, as though reading her mind. “I know he’s at his lab in New York. I called yesterday to be certain before I laid this little trap for you. And now that your sister and her fool of an herbivore mate are gone, you’re completely unprotected.”

  “What do you even want with me?” Samantha tried not to let her voice tremble.

  “A very good question.” Lounds gave her an unpleasant grin. “Why should I bother with you when I’ve recently ensured that I’ll have so many more subjects in the near future? Very soon, there are going to be latent Shifter Genes waking up all over the country—maybe even all over the world! A bountiful harvest indeed.”