Chapter Four

Holding Hands with the Doctor

Paul's POV

The paleface newspapers were filled with the specifics...well...as detailed as they were able to be...of the rash of murders and kidnappings that had recently taken Seattle by storm. The experts were whispering theories of serial killers, a thought that terrified everyone, a possibility that hadn't been a reality since the Green River Killer had butchered forty-eight women over twenty-one years, his capture coming less than a decade ago. I had to wonder how they'd react if they knew the truth of the matter...that a monster, an infection at least a thousand times worse had invaded their town.

Thirty-nine people either whacked or snatched in the past three months...bodies found with crushed bones but not one shred of physical evidence that linked them to their killer...smoldering corpses found in dumpsters...the town was in a definite panic and the poor bastards had no clue whatsoever about what they really had cropping up in their backyard...not that they'd believe it even if they were to hear the truth.

After all...it wasn't like there was any such thing as shape shifters or vampires...not in the real world. There were chicks who pored over romance novels, pleasuring themselves with an electronic lover while they imagined an undead hunk feasting on their soft flesh, but real, live bloodsuckers...ones who were intent on sucking the life from their bodies, then tossing the dried out husk of their carcass aside...that was a crazy idea...a disgusting horror story that could never come true.

Speaking of disgusting horror stories...thanks to my sweet little pain in the ass brother, the pouty one known as Jacob, everyone in the pack knew about the night spent at the drive-in, the one that had ended with my girl...my imprint...the freakin' light of my life, my Lilah...declaring that she thought the leech from the movie, the one that had spent a good deal of the time as some older than Methuselah freak show, when he wasn't a creepy batty humanoid creature, that is, was good-looking. Now I had to put up with a bunch of tittering like I was surrounded by a horde of little girls...sheesh...it took all that I had to keep myself from rearranging a few faces, but I'd managed to keep control of myself...so far.

As if all of that...and the growing presence of the Seattle ticks...hadn't been enough, then I'd had to be constantly on guard, keeping the one image from that night, the one that had woke me up every night since our date, out of my head and theirs. It was the scene from the movie that had Dracula making his move on the redhead, in disguise as a wolf, that became me, that I was the one plunging in and out between the thighs of the chick, whose crimson hair turned dark, the one image that had me waking every night, drenched in sweat, my throbbing cock in my hand, making my hunger level for my girl, which was already dangerously high, grow to an intensity that had me seeing her everywhere I looked, tasting her in every breath that I took...it was sheer and utter hell.

The real bitch was that I barely knew her, and I could imagine that it would come as quite a shock to her if I was to spill my guts and bare my heart, to tell her that as corny and cliché as it sounded, that I had fallen in love with her the first time that I had looked into her eyes...shit...it sounded corny and cliché to me, and I was the one living with the agonizing emotions.

Dammit Paul...how in hell do you expect any of us to keep our minds on the trail when you're broadcasting your soap opera dilemma so loud? I've got a damned headache already, and I've only been out here five minutes.

There were a lot of drawbacks to the wolf pack lifestyle...having to be in the near constant company of guys who consumed a high protein diet, and the lovely gastrointestinal results of said diet...phasing in and out in front of a bunch of guys, and one chick, and having to listen to comments about the supposed diminutive size of your junk...and so on and so forth, but the real bitch was the fact that any one of them could take a stroll through your mind whenever they damn well pleased and none of your thoughts was private, hence my irritation as Embry came trotting up to stand beside me, his voice ringing in my ears.

I thought Jacob was bad with his constant thoughts about Bella, but we've all voted and decided that you're like a million times worse than he is and do you want to know why?

I didn't bother answering...he and I both knew that it made no difference whether I wanted to know why or not because he was obviously chomping at the bit to tell me.

You're a million times worse because you think of her all the time, but you're greedy with your thoughts. You've seen, as we all have, Jacob's imaginings of Bella naked, of Bella moaning his name, of Bella yadda...yadda...yadda, but with you it's all about Lilah and how much you love her and need her, but every time things start getting good, like we just might see some skin, you go dark on us. We hate to admit it, but we're all kind of amazed by your discipline...does it hurt to block us out so thoroughly?

Hurt didn't even begin to cover what it felt like, blocking out the pack's prying eyes, but it was worth it. There was no way that I wanted them to see her the way that I did...not that I actually knew what she looked like when she pulled her shirt off, or when she slid her tight Levi's down off that shapely backside that I so longed to take into my hands, but I had a decent imagination. Even tougher was the task of masking the sounds that filled my thoughts when I heard her in my head, the sounds that she made while I made love to her. I teased myself with the thought that she'd be noisy, that she'd whimper and mewl when I was inside of her...damn...there I went again...letting my thoughts get ahead of me. I turned hesitantly to see Embry watching me closely, studying me, more than likely doing his best to catch a peek inside my deepest secrets, but I shut him off quickly.

You need to find yourself a woman Embry. Maybe then you wouldn't be so wrapped up in a slideshow of everyone else's girls, you damned perv. And as for my newfound discipline...that's none of your business either. The only thing that should concern you about me is whether or not I do my job, and I think that we both know the answer to that question, don't we?

Apparently he took offense to my answer and growled low in his throat as he trotted away. I really wasn't concerned with whether or not I had rubbed him the wrong way, I was too confused to think about that too much. There was one angle that Embry hadn't taken into account and that was Sam. It seemed kind of dense that he wouldn't remember that there was nothing that I could keep from the Alpha, no matter how much I wanted to, since he couldn't either. The big question was why Sam kept it all to himself, not that he was one who went and blabbed all the time anyway, but you'd think that he'd have spilled something by now...I know that I would've, if our situations were reversed...it boggled my mind.

He's too consumed by thoughts of nakedness to remember that detail right now Paul. You should also know why it is that I've kept my mouth shut, even though I'm well aware of the fact that you would have blabbed by now, were our situations to be reversed. I share with all of you, even when I'd prefer to keep things to myself, because you all look to me for guidance and support. What sort of leader would I be if I were to keep secrets, hmm? Your thoughts of Lilah don't fit into what everybody needs to know, however. That's your business alone...though I do get an eye and earful of it on a daily basis, don't I?

I should have heard him coming a lot sooner than I did, and it was a mishap that made me wonder if I was slipping, too caught up in my fantasies to focus on anything else. What was worse was that the boss man had caught me unawares, seemingly uncommitted to my duties...sheesh...what a mess. I was on the verge of apologizing...something I absolutely hated...but stopped when I smelled the anxiety flowing out of his pores, and caught a glimpse of Lilah in his mind, and I would have sworn that my heart ceased its thumping in that moment.

I instantly phased, uncaring, for once, that I was standing bare-assed naked in front of another guy. I untied the bind holding my shorts to my leg and jumped into them, pacing nervously back and forth, shoving my hands into my hair and tugging hard on the strands, doing my best to keep myself calm.

"What happened to her Sam?" I asked, in a harsher voice than I would normally dare. "She's hurt, isn't she?"

For a minute he just stood there, staring at me and the fist gripping hold of my heart squeezed painfully, making it hard for me to breathe. In that instant I entertained the worst possible scenario in my mind, the one that would have made it unnecessary and horrific for me to go on with my life, but that couldn't be possible. I would have known if she'd...I would have felt it if she had...

"Don't just sit there staring at me, waiting for me to play a guessing game with you dammit," I snarled, advancing on him and refusing to back down, not even when he growled out a warning for me to do so. "Put yourself in my shoes for just a minute...imagine that it was Emily instead of Lilah."

I was relieved when he phased, putting us on a more even playing field. He smiled ruefully and reached out to lay his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry for all of the drama Paul," he said, squeezing my flesh a couple of times, probably hoping to reassure me. "My intention was to keep you calm and levelheaded...a plan that obviously backfired. Lilah has been hurt...it's not real bad, but bad enough for her to go to the hospital."

He said that it wasn't real bad, but how damn good could it be if she'd had to go to the hospital? I contemplated that thought, pacing back and forth, and then another thought hit me, an idea that was almost as horrible as the idea of her being hurt in the first place.

"When you say hospital, you're talking about the...tribal...clinic...aren't you?" I asked nervously, already knowing the answer, whether I wanted to or not. It definitely made things worse if she'd gone off the Rez for her treatment. There were...issues...at the paleface hospital, major ones of the bloodsucking variety, and I really didn't need any more drama at the moment.

"She's not on the roll Paul, she'd be turned away at the clinic," he answered, a fact which was obvious, but which I'd also hoped could be overlooked. "Mary took her into Forks to get her burns tended."

My stomach plummeted when he said that, that my Lilah had been burned, then my eyes narrowed as I looked at him. There was another part to this story, one that he wasn't eager to share with me, one that he knew would piss me off, and while I was dying to know everything, I knew that the details would have to wait until later. I had a hospital to get to, the leech in a doctor's jacket be damned, and there wasn't time to waste getting all pissy before I even made it into Forks.

Lilah's POV

My butt was falling asleep after sitting on what had to be the most uncomfortable excuse of a bed that existed outside of prisons for the past thirty minutes, and I found myself wishing that I could join it, that was if my hand hadn't been throbbing incessantly. I had already promised myself that I was going to get even with that fat little toad Sonny if it was the last thing I did, and I distracted myself as much as I could with various possibilities for my revenge. I guess that antisocial mutants like him probably considered it highly amusing to sneak up on someone who was making fry bread in a huge cast-iron skillet of boiling oil and pinch them on the ass, causing said person to stick their hand into the blistering oil as a result, but as for me, well, let's just say that I missed the comedic value of that particular action...maybe I was born without a sense of humor.

I was contemplating easing myself off of the table, just to give my rear a rest, when the curtain that had been affording me some privacy opened and time seemed to stand still, the room seemed to grow brighter, and any discomfort I'd been suffering all but disappeared when I looked up into the pale, stunningly gorgeous face of my doctor. For a moment I thought that there had to have been some sort of mistake. Doctors were usually grandfatherly types, men who were in no danger of affecting the pace of their patient's pulse, at least every doctor I'd ever seen had fallen into that category, but here was the exception to that theory, and Lord help me, he just smiled at me...ohh...be still my heart.

He walked toward me, stopping at the edge of my bed and I found myself gripping the sides of the pathetic excuse for a mattress, hard, praying that I wouldn't do or say anything that would make me look or sound like a complete dolt. Of course, that wish went straight down the drain when I noticed his lips moving, indicating that he was speaking to me, but for some odd reason I couldn't hear, let alone understand what he was saying to me, making me wonder if temporary deafness was a rare side effect of a burn. I stared at him for several moments, feeling as though I was hypnotized by his lips, when suddenly they stopped moving and he was the one staring, at me, like I had possibly taken leave of my senses, if I'd ever had them at all, and that's when it dawned on me that I hadn't heard his words because I'd been listening to an inner mantra of "homana, homana, homana" ever since Doctor Sexiness had drawn back the corner of the curtain separating me from the prying eyes in the ER.

My first instinct was to jump down off of the bed and dive underneath it, where I'd hide until he went away, or until I died of shame, whichever came first, but logically I realized that an action such as that would only confirm to him that I belonged in the whackadoo section of the hospital, so even though I was fairly sure that my face was red as a tomato I kept my seat.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that Doctor?" I asked, feeling like a complete moron, even though I knew that it was better than admitting that I hadn't heard a word he'd spoken due to the scorching lust running through my body.

He smiled indulgently at me, giving me the impression that he was well aware of why it was that I hadn't heard his words. I could only imagine how many women got the flutters whenever he was near...probably all who weren't blind or batting for the home team.

"I am Dr. Cullen and I will be tending to your injury this evening Miss Quinn," he answered, wincing as he looked down at my left hand, which was red and angry looking, with blisters formed on the palm. "First of all, I need to know if you are allergic to any medications, and then we will see about getting you some pain relief before we do anything else. Does that sound alright?"

Pain relief sounded absolutely heavenly to me, of course, but he could have asked me if the moon was turquoise and I would have agreed. "I don't have any allergies that I'm aware of," I answered, my blush renewing as his eyes rose back to my face. "And it would be nice to have something to deaden the throbbing in my hand, most definitely."

He smiled again, a warm smile that showed genuine humor that had my heart going kaboom in a fraction of a second, an action that turned from the flip-flop of desire to the nervous patter of fear when he turned to the nurse who'd materialized at his side and told her to prepare an IV, with an antibiotic drip as well. An IV...oh crap...that meant that she was going to be sticking a needle into me. I had never reacted well to having my blood drawn, or to taking shots in my arm...I absolutely refused them in my backside...but what choice did I have? I certainly wasn't going to humiliate myself by throwing a hissy fit in front of Dr. Cullen...it looked like I was going to have to pull on the big girl panties and toughen up, whether I wanted to or not.

It turned out that the nurse, Louise, was a wonder at her job...and at calming patients, and had me tranquil and resting by the time that the handsome, and I now knew married, Dr. Cullen rejoined me, bringing a tray filled with an assortment of treatment goodies.

I thought that I'd made myself immune to him after Louise had spilled the news that he was happily married, effectively destroying any and all fantasies that I might have cooked up in my mind, but my imperviousness went out the window when he pulled a rolling stool up to my bedside and took a seat at the same moment that he took my injured hand between his cool palms, turning it from side to side, a kindhearted look coming into his eyes.

"How did this happen?" he asked softly, his fingertips gentle as they slid over my flesh, making tears threaten in my eyes for some stupid reason. "I would say that this is a second-degree burn."

Sonny's dumbass prank was something that I had no desire to talk about at that moment so I made due with saying that it was just an accident. I got the impression that he didn't believe me, but he didn't press me any further on the subject. He thoroughly cleaned my burns and had just started applying Silvadene ointment when I heard Louise's voice, telling someone that no one but family was allowed in with patients and then the curtain that Dr. Cullen had pulled closed around my bed opened and I was face-to-face with Paul, who looked positively livid, shaking from head-to-toe, his eyes flying between me and the doctor before settling on our hands, and I would have sworn that he growled as he stared, though his eyes softened somewhat when they returned to my face.

Louise burst in behind him and started to grab his arm, an action that probably wouldn't have ended well for either of them, but she stopped when Dr. Cullen spoke up in his defense.

"That's quite alright Louise," he said calmly, finishing with the ointment and reaching for bandages. "I was just about to cover Miss Quinn's burns, and unless she has some objection to this young man's presence, I don't know why he shouldn't be allowed to stay."

It was obvious that Louise wanted to argue, but she didn't voice her protests. She merely turned to look at me, more than likely hoping that I would tell her to throw him out on his ear.

"Paul is a good friend of mine," I answered, smiling up at him, hoping that I could calm him further. "I don't mind if he keeps me company for a while."

My smile and my words seemed to have the effect that I desired and he crossed to the side of my bed that was empty, his eyes taking on a concerned look that I would have sworn almost bordered on pain as he looked at the needle in my uninjured hand and at the burned hand as it disappeared beneath layer after layer of wrapping.

"I'm sorry that it took so long for me to get here," he said quietly, reaching down hesitantly, as though he meant to hold my hand, only to back away at the last moment. "I would have brought you in myself, had I heard about this earlier."

I couldn't say why I did it, maybe it was because he'd dashed down to the hospital to see me, even though we weren't officially a "couple", maybe it was because he was obviously so worried about me, but whatever the reason I reached up to take the hand that he was pulling away, holding it tightly in my own. It wasn't the first time we'd held hands, so I knew that wasn't why he'd hesitated. Maybe he was afraid he'd hurt me, what with the IV in my flesh and all, or maybe he thought that it would bother me, if he was to do something so personal in front of the doctor. Whatever the reason, I knew that it was up to me to break the ice, so I took the lead and I may as well have given him the greatest gift in the world, if the grin on his face was any indication of his pleasure. He slowly tightened his grip on me, running his thumb across the back of my fingers, causing a surprising trip in my heartbeat, one that I should have been used to by now, but which always caught me off guard.

This was completely insane...here I'd been, lusting after my doctor not ten minutes before, but now that Paul was there, now that he was touching me, suddenly Dr. Cullen was just that, my attending physician and nothing more. I couldn't help but compare the differences in the hands on both sides of the bed, pale versus russet, smooth versus calloused, cold versus hot, and it dawned on me which I preferred, the one that I had wanted all along, the one in fact that both soothed and stirred me, and I slowly raised my eyes to stare into his face, thinking to myself how happy I was to have him at my side, and wondering what it would take to keep him there forever.