Page 51 of One for the Money
“I apologize,” I shout through the door in a hoarse voice. “I’m extremely sick. I don’t want to give this to you because I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.” I pause a moment, thinking that over. “Actually, no, I totally would because this may kill me, so may as well take them down with me.”
I’m rambling.
I’m aware of that.
“Dr. Alex!” That’s a different voice. “I understand you’re sick, and I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t an emergency. Something is wrong with Quinton.”
Quinton’s case of Alpha Rot is advanced. I don’t know how old he is, but he seems young enough that it shouldn’t be this bad, despite being an unbonded Alpha. Some Alphas go their whole lives and never Rot, but then there are the unlucky ones like Quinton who seems to have inherited an aggressive gene for it.
How the other circus doctors missed it is a mystery to me. There isn’t much I can do, even though something inside me revolts at the idea of letting him fall victim to this without even trying.
These are his friends, his family, I can’t let them down. I have to see if I can at least make him comfortable.
“Give me a moment,” I call back through the door. I grab a piece of gum, since I’m not trying to ruin my enamel by immediately brushing my teeth after puking, and throw my hair up in a bun. It’s not even a cute bun, but that doesn’t matter.
Medical bag in hand, I open the door, and Jude andDario are standing at the base of my stairs, pacing tracks into the grass.
“Where is he?” I ask, and they point to the left and then take off, leaving me to clamor down the stairs alone after I lock up.
It’s a beautiful evening, but I can’t appreciate it. My head is spinning, and my body aches as I follow behind the guys at a distance, unable to keep up with their long strides.
“He’s in Matteo’s trailer. He’s not good, Doc,” Dario says, looking over his shoulder at me. “I’ve never seen him like this.”
“He’s got Alpha Rot,” I tell them. “I’m not sure how much I can do, but I’ll try.”
It takes us only a minute before we’re in front of a trailer with all the lights on, the door held open for us. I rush inside, and immediately my whole body freezes up.
My mouth starts to water, and I can feel myself grow slick between my legs, and a desperate whine starts to build in my throat.
No.
No.
No.
My suppressants. Either I forgot to take them or I vomited them up, but I can still smell the pheromones that blanket the space.
And if I can smell them…
I look up, meeting a pair of angry blue eyes.
Dexter.
He snarls and stands up, stomping away before I can get a good read on his scent, but he must’ve clocked mine.
But I can’t think about that right now. Not when I have a patient. If I let myself focus on the fact that my scent isout there, I’ll curl up in a ball and be even less helpful than I am right now.
Quinton is on the floor, eyes closed, with a crying Matteo holding his hand. I drop to my knees beside him, and Matteo immediately stiffens. The smell of burnt popcorn makes my nose itch before I realize what that is.
That’s the smell of an upset Beta, and it’s making my skin crawl with a desire to fix it.
He’s not supposed to smell like that. I don’t know what his scent is supposed to be, but there is something inherently wrong with this burnt, bitter scent, and it makes me want to pull him into my arms and purr. The instinct is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
Matteo is staring at me, slack-jawed, and I know he’s affected by my pheromones too. But I can’t stop and think about what that means and how it’s making me feel. That’s not why I’m here. I have to compartmentalize all of this until I know Quinton is okay.
I place a hand on the Alpha’s neck, feeling his pulse, before I grab my stethoscope from my medical bag. “Talk to me, Matteo, tell me what happened.”
“We were getting ready to turn in, and he just fell out. He won’t wake up.” The Beta is staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face, and the burnt popcorn scent is taking a sweeter edge to it as he stares at me.
