Her life was not supposed to be this way. Men were supposed to flock to her, not run from her, and yet the one man she wanted more than any other she'd ever met was still persisting in running away and hiding from her. Prue had thought that once she'd learned Brendan's secret and he had saved her life despite, and in a way through, being a Werewolf that the problems that had been keeping their relationship from growing would be over. She had been wrong for he had gone back to hiding very shortly thereafter.
She'd managed to get him out on a few dates, but then again, he'd stopped returning her calls. She had gone to his apartment only to find that he had moved. He was still working at the hospital, but though she came regularly with the sole purpose of finding him and demanding an explanation on her mind and in her heart, she had yet to be able to find him.
Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong, Prue knew, and she also knew that she could help him if only Brendan would let her. Yet she couldn't help him if she couldn't even find him and speak to him to learn what was wrong, and so she had started coming to the hospital every evening in search of him. She knew he worked mostly the day shift but sometimes went in on nights as well, as long as the full moon was not out, and so she came at the time of the evening when his regular shift would be getting off and his night shift, should he be working the nights, just beginning. She came every day, and yet still she'd not found him. He was working, she knew that much from the nurses whom she quizzed, but still somehow, no matter how long she waited for him, he managed to avoid her.
Prue was running late today, having picked up the pace at P3 when they'd gotten busy after Piper had left to visit their hospitalized waitress. The girl had just had a kidney stone removed and was being held over for observation, but though Prue and Phoebe knew Felicia would be fine, Piper, always the mother figure, worried for their friend. Prue froze when she saw the cop cars in front of the hospital. There were four cars with their sirens still flashing, and every one of them looked like they'd been through a major wreck.
Prue's blood chilled, and her heartbeat quickened as her mind immediately went to Brendan and then to her sister. Had either of them been here when whatever had happened had taken place, and what could have happened to the cars? Smoke seeped out of one of the engines, and all of their hoods were dented as though something extremely heavy had smacked down on top of them. Prue walked forward swiftly but carefully, her every instinct at full alert.
Cops were laying around the cars, some in front and others having just barely gotten out of their vehicles. Every one of them was down and covered with blood. Prue knelt beside the first few, checking their heartbeats only to find them already dead. She stifled the scream building inside of her. The situation reeked of the Supernatural, and whatever had done this was a major force with which to be reckoned. She went around the cars, her green eyes flitting constantly across the scene, and almost lost it when she found the tattered remains of bones and uniforms in front of the cars. Whatever was here had not only killed all of these cops but had eaten at least two!
Prue fell back against the hood of the nearest police car, frantically covering her open mouth with her hands. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been around more blood and destruction, despite having saved the world more times than she could count. Something truly horrific was happening inside of the hospital, and Piper and Brendan might still be inside! She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and quickly dialed her sister's number, but there was no answer. Prue knew Piper would have turned her cell off when she'd gone into the hospital, and the simple fact that it was still off told her she was still inside!
"Gods!" Prue breathed, her heartbeat thundering and her hands shaking as she put her cell phone up. Whatever had done this might be on her sister now; it might even have her beloved Brendan beneath it! The radios inside the squadron cars crackled, and the dispatcher said that backup was on the way as they'd not had a response from the units. Prue knew that mortal help would do them no good but only add to the death count created by whatever was inside the hospital, attacking the patients and staff, attacking her sister, attacking the man she loved . . . "LEO!" she shouted. "WE NEED HELP!" And then, without waiting for even a scant second, she charged into the hospital.
He had known the moment his love had set foot onto the hospital grounds, but he'd managed not to give the knowledge away as he'd continued to be dragged down the aisle by his captor. His tail was tucked between his legs, and Brendan's head hung down the lowest it had in years. He should have known he couldn't hide from the pack. He had known they'd come, in truth. He'd told Kyna that, but she had insisted that they believed him dead and his yearning to live some kind of life, to do some little good to make up for all the evil his kind had done, had gotten the better of him and made him a fool.
The realization of the danger his mere presence put everybody in had come rocketing home to him when he'd fallen head over tail in love with the most beautiful, wonderful woman he'd ever had the honor of knowing. Every time he caught her delicious scent, the wolf inside of him howled with need, and Brendan had remembered the harsh fact of his reality that he could be with no one without putting their very lives in danger. He had hidden from her for months, skirting around any potential close interaction with his lady love, in his determination to keep her safe, and then he had been forced to use his Werewolf abilities in order to find and save her from the spell that had put her and her sisters into an enchanted slumber.
For a short, wonderful time thereafter, Brendan had actually thought that he might be able to live a normal life at long last. Well, okay, not normal, he admitted, his brown, shaggy ears twitching, but at least normalish. At least he could love the woman of his dreams, the only woman who had ever managed to squeeze pass his every guard and fully explode into his well, but clearly not well enough, protected heart. He had gone out with her, and those nights and days they had been together had been the best times of his otherwise miserable life.
And then Brendan had awakened one morning to the skeleton of a goldfish on his window sill. He had known instantly what that had meant, and he had packed up and left his tiny apartment, and the only woman who he would ever love, behind. He hadn't gone far enough. He should have left the hospital. He should have left the town, but he had stayed, putting in his resignation and trying to work out a notice until the overrun hospital could get in a new doctor. The patients whom he cared for had further talked him into staying, and he'd extended his resignation with the pleased permission of the hospital hierarchy.
He had been a fool, and now people were dying because of him. The humans would be slaughtered, and there wasn't anything he could do. Even now, stumbling behind the Werewolf who yanked him forward, his hands bound in silver chains, Brendan knew that his submission would do little good to save the people whom he had been foolish enough to consider his friends, even if none of them had really known him. To make matters a million times worse, Prue was now at the hospital. He could hear her calling his name, and he whimpered inside, barely able to contain the sound from hitting his cracked and bleeding lips.
He ached to be able to warn her. He yearned still for what he knew he could never have. He should be able to love her openly with all the love that consumed his heart, soul, and very being for her alone, but yet he knew to do so would bring her death. If he didn't kill her, they would.
{Prue,} he thought, {Gods, please just run, love! Run away and never stop!} But even as he prayed to a God who had never listened to his cries, he knew she would not. Prue's bravery knew no ends, and she would stand and fight against any monster who intended to take the life of an innocent even if it would mean giving her own life to protect that innocent. {Just run,} he thought, and then his whimpering escaped him as his captor stopped.
She turned to look at him, her yellow eyes glistening with feral anguish and hatred. She sniffed the air, and her ears perked forward as she listened to the pounding of his heartbeat. "How sweet," she snarled, saliva dripping from her jowls. "You're in love with the little Witch bitch."
Brendan opened his mouth to deny the fact, but his pitiful lie was drowned out in the beast's howl. He shivered inside and dropped his head. She was calling to the pack. Soon his beloved Prue would be no more, and it was all his fault! Brendan fell to his knees, and his captor laughed as his howl of heartache and misery echoed through the hospital corridors.
Prue stopped dead in her tracks, her beautiful head lifting as she heard her love's howl. Brendan was in pain! She turned and ran for the sound of his howl, praying with all her heart that she would be in time to save him from whatever Demon was attacking and never once thinking that she was running straight into her own funeral . . .
To Be Continued . . .