Mouse and the Ball (FUC Academy) Page 2

  Careful not to cross any lines, those steel eyes of his haunted her with the way he always seemed to be watching her. Combined with the infrequent brush of his hand over hers, yes, it seemed possible.

  It was in all those little things but none more than the way her mouse seemed to perk up when he was near. When he was gone, her wee beastie was nowhere in sight.

  Strange and a little scary, but she dared hope that maybe the sexy doctor was more than either of them knew. Maybe, he was her mate.

  Waiting for him to make a move was proving a bit difficult. An impatient patient she certainly was. So, being a modern woman, she’d decided to approach him that night to discuss her suspicions.

  Excited squeak!

  The staff was making their evening rounds, and Julietta tensed when the curtain opened, expecting him to come see her. Instead, in walked the dreaded Nurse Mabel.

  The redhead seemed to have it out for Julietta, and yet, she wouldn’t allow anyone else to care for her. That meant a lot of cold baths, terrible food, and other slights like forgetting to take her to the bathroom when requested and things like that.

  Tonight, Julietta hadn’t waited for the nurse. She had slipped away and taken her own shower, a warm one. She’d changed into clean scrubs and brushed her long, dark hair. There was nothing to be done about her lack of wardrobe or makeup, but at least she was clean.

  “Time for your—”

  The nurse stopped abruptly, a frown on her face. Julietta thought she looked a lot like her alter ego, which was a red fox, with her nose and mouth all pinched tightly together.

  “I see you disobeyed the doctor’s orders that you stay in bed! Well, he will hear about this, and I guarantee, he won’t like it!”

  The woman ran away so quickly Julietta didn’t even get to answer her back. Oh well. It had been hours since her shower, and Julietta had to use the facilities again. Maybe she should wait for another nurse? After all, HOLE had a policy about not allowing patients to roam the halls unattended.

  She meant to wait, but her bladder had other ideas. Besides, nothing said sexy like “Excuse me, Doc, I have to pee.” Ugh. And she always had to go when she was nervous. What could be more nerve-racking than telling someone he might be your fated mate?

  Nervous squeak!

  Oh hush, she told her timid mouse. I’m just going to ask him to sit down and talk, find out if he feels those zips and zings I’ve been feeling, and we’ll take it from there. If he does, super yay. If he doesn’t, no big deal. No harm, no foul, right?

  Squeak. Squeeeeaaaak. SQUEAK!

  Julietta’s mouse was more than anxious. She was super duper anxious. Happy that her wee beastie was suddenly so vocal, Julietta decided a trip to the potty was definitely in order.

  Little did she know that decision to pee was going to upset the events she’d so carefully planned. Once the sexy serpentine surgeon—Dr. Finn was indeed a rare python shifter—had spotted her unattended in the hall, all Julietta’s hopes went up in flames.

  “That lowdown, tale-tattling, double-dealing, dirt-riding, hissy-pissy, sneaky, smarmy, stuck-up, snobby, sanctimonious, slithering serpent isn’t gonna tell me what to do,” she muttered, sniffing into her hanky after her visit to the potty.

  Dr. Damon Finn had found her in the hallway all right. And the big jerk had given her a piece of his uptight, narrow little mind! Imagine a man demanding a grown woman obey his orders!

  Doctor or not, she would never be the type of person who blindly listened to someone else’s commands without question. Julietta was her own woman.

  She had thoughts, feelings, and opinions. Dr. Snobby Snake Man could shove it where the sun don’t shine if that was what he wanted in a woman!

  Squeakity Squeak!

  2

  A few weeks later at FUCN’A…

  Damon Finn, M.D., hissed under his breath as he made his rounds. He was anxious to see her. Julietta DiCarlo. The female he’d hunted across North America, all the way to the Rockies.

  The second he’d spied her with her brother, he told the man she needed to get back to HOLE for a check-up. Tony Leeds, a Jersey devil, had insisted despite his sister’s angry glare.

  Damon hated going over her head, but he needed an excuse to pin her down and talk to her. But first, he had a duty to his other patients. With all the rescued shifters filling every available bed in his newest HOLE, it was taking longer than usual.

  Confounding, really. Tracking the little mouse from New Jersey to the Rockies had been risky, but when the same PRIC who’d rescued her once upon a time also discovered a group of shifters in need of his help, Damon’s trip now had dual purpose.

  Tired, weak, sick, the entire lot of them. All Ranklinger’s victims, they had either escaped or been rescued from the clutches of the dastardly evil so-called doctor behind SCARAB.

  A couple of PRICs had informed Damon the elusive shifter kidnapping ring operating mostly inside the States was called SCARAB after one of them had found a beetle hieroglyph on documents and buildings used by the criminals.

  Short for Shifter Child Abduction Ring and Actual Banishment. After some investigation, they now knew the organization was actually called SCAR for Shifter Capture Alteration and Removal. Not that far off, really.

  The detectives had actually guessed rather well, in Damon’s opinion. SCAR’s goal was to rid the world of what they considered the shifter blight. The fact that the bastards running it thought kids made easy targets made Damon’s python stand up and hiss in agitation.

  But how were they going to do it? Far as he knew, it was one man and one henchman working together. And yet, somehow, the dastardly duo had ruined countless lives.

  Documents recovered after the blast, which nearly destroyed their secret laboratory disguised as a Critter Control office, informed officials that SCAR had been around for a very long time. Longer than any one human lifetime.

  The madman known as Dr. Ranklinger was not the first to take the mantle of this hateful organization. Apparently, it was a family thing. And just for the record, Damon sincerely doubted Ranklinger had any formal medical training.

  It vexed him mightily that the bastard had once tried to hurt Julietta. The maddening murine minx had hightailed it out of HOLE, but that would not deter him. Damon had some things to say to the curvy female.

  “Hello,” a small voice said, interrupting his train of thought. He turned to smile at one of the rescued and opened her file on his tablet.

  “How are you feeling today?” Damon asked the small field mouse shifter named Mochi while scanning her chart.

  “Well enough,” she murmured, shy of him after the terrible experience she’d endured.

  Many of Ranklinger’s patients had been put under the knife. Some lucky ones survived. Like Mochi. Damon frowned as he read over the results of her latest blood tests.

  The so-called doctor had attempted to remove her larger-than-average, round ears with his knife, but luckily, she’d managed to metabolize the anesthetic before he finished his operation. She had some scarring, but she was alive and whole.

  “Your white count is still elevated, but we can’t find the cause. Tell me, Mochi, do you remember if Ranklinger injected you with anything or forced you to take any medicine?”

  “I am not sure,” she replied in a small voice. “The food always tasted bad.”

  “No worries,” he returned. “Let us know if any memories pop up, okay?”

  “I will. Thank you, Doctor. Um? Is my mother here yet?”

  “Not yet,” he said. “She is coming up from Florida. Should be here later.”

  Like so many of the rescued shifters, Mochi was young. College-aged at most. Damon tensed at the thought of what could have happened to her, to any of them, had the PRIC detectives and FUC agents not found them in time. What kind of maniac did this?

  To want the total annihilation of a species was utter madness. Especially for someone claiming to be a physician! They took an oath, for Pete’s sake. Do no harm. That was his vow and promise and part of the reason he’d conceived the idea to help shifter kind with HOLE. Only a trained shifter could treat others of his kind. So many species, so many things to study and learn.

  His Home Offices for Life-Threatening Emergencies were the perfect vehicle to get the proper care and treatment for folks like him. They came in handy for treating shifters under the guise of special disease and contamination control centers. No one asked too many questions when they saw his sign, and that was good for all supernatural critters.

  Everyone who entered one of his pop-up clinics had to have a PEEN. These Physical Examinations of External Nuances helped the doctors and nurses treat the patients to the best of their abilities. Every HOLE used a PEEN for every patient. But there was something fishy going on with Ranklinger’s victims. All of their PEENs presented as normal. As in human. And that was beyond strange.

  Further testing was demanded, but there was nothing he could do with such limited resources. HOLEs were great, but they did not carry enough equipment to be on-site laboratories too.

  “Hello, Dr. Finn.”

  “Greta,” he said, nodding at his next patient.

  He went over her chart, prescribed some more vitamins, and went on to the next. A cold breeze swept through the hall, and he made a mental note to order more heaters.

  The Rockies were not kind during winter. Still, Damon was grateful for the opportunity to give back to the community, which did so much for his kind.

  The Furry United Coalition was the first organization where shifters, no matter the subspecies, worked together for their protection and betterment. He wanted to be a part of that, even if only in this small way. To help give back to the shifter community.

  The hunt for the evil behind SCAR was important. FUC, PRIC, and all the other shifter groups involved, needed to find, and lock up the criminals, Dr. Ranklinger especially, before they could hurt anyone else.

  A sense of pride surged through Damon at the thought of being part of such an important project. He was not an agent or detective, but as a doctor, he could study and learn exactly what the mad scientist had in mind for the shifters of the world. And maybe, just maybe, he could help stop him!

  Of course, there was another reason he was in Canada. Damon stopped beside one glaringly empty bed.

  Oh no. Not again. The maddening moussssse was gone!

  This was getting ridiculous. Damon hissed and mashed his teeth together over his inability to keep one tiny mouse shifter in her hospital bed! What did she want from him, anyway?

  “I don’t need a check-up. I am fine.”

  “I’m the doctor, and I say you do.”

  “Don’t!”

  “Do!”

  That could’ve gone better, he supposed. But he was desperate. He needed her close. Damon just had to tell her the truth. The lucky little lady was fated to be his mate.

  He knew it down to his python, and he didn’t mean the one straining against his khakis. Though, truth be told, that was something he only experienced in her presence. Right from the second he’d seen the gorgeous creature.

  Oh, those first moments had been pure hell! Julietta had been bruised and covered in soot and dirt from the warehouse fire, a fact that almost stopped his heart.

  Mate. Mate! MATE!

  His python had practically roared the news. If not for the second fact, that she’d been unconscious and in the arms of the bumbling bovine PRIC who’d found her, Damon might have bitten and claimed her on the spot.

  As it was, sanity had resumed its course, and he treated her injuries, with the hope he could explain their happy situation afterward. Unfortunately, she’d run out on him before he had the chance. But here the Fates had gifted him with another.

  And unthinkably, she’d left. Again. Poor Damon, stuck in the HOLE, sans Julietta!

  Ssssss.

  Closing his eyes, he rubbed that spot on his forehead—the one right between his eyebrows that his mother worried would show wrinkles before his time—and he exhaled. Slowly.

  Seriously pissssssed-off hissssss!

  Of all the patients he’d ever treated in his HOLEs, she was the worst. Julietta DiCarlo, former kidnapping victim, was the most maddening mouse shifter he’d ever met.

  She was also the most beautiful, puzzling, infuriating, and tempting little morsel he’d ever seen. Even if she was from Philadelphia. His own hometown of Cape May in South Jersey had quite the rivalry with them.

  All that fighting over griddle-cooked steak with whiz or without. Whiz of course being cheese whiz for those not in the know. Street battles over whether it was frozen custard or ice cream. And of course, the right way to eat a hot dog, with mustard and cooked red onions, of course. But none of that mattered to him.

  Only she did. Julietta DiCarlo made his palms sweat and his heart beat like a drum. Keeping his hands to himself had proved difficult, but Damon managed it. A testament to his professionalism and amazing self-control.

  Immodest? Maybe. But as his mother always said, if you’ve got it, flaunt it. So with a certain swagger in his serpentine step, Damon Finn truly flaunted it.

  He was one proud python. A rare bumblebee morph—the termonology used to explain his snake’s bright coloration and stripe-like patterning—which accounted for his black-streaked blond locks and his steely-eyed stare that most females fawned over. He'd tried that smoldering stare on the female more than once, but the miniscule mouse had shown a ridiculous amount of resistance to his charms thus far.

  Sad hiss.

  Point in fact, where was she? The murine maiden had been next on his rounds, and yet, poof, gone. No matter how many instructions he seemed to give her, Julietta simply did not listen.

  If that little mouse didn’t learn to stay put, he was seriously considering cuffing her to the bed. Now, why did he have to stick that image in his brain?

  Ssssss.

  His python hissed while his pulse sped up. Damon cleared his throat and tugged on his tie. Was it getting warm in there?

  Dammit.

  “Good evening, doctor,” Mabel, the only redheaded nurse in HOLE, greeted him with a wide, inviting smile.

  Damon waved a nonchalant hello as his reply. Ever since he’d met Julietta, he’d been completely uninterested in anyone else of the opposite sex. No other woman appealed to him or his snake.

  And yes, this time he meant the one in his pants as much as the one inside of him. Ssssss.

  For a man of his reputation, it was not only humiliating. It was damn near emasculating. Especially since he had yet to pin the little mouse down and seduce her into submitting to his charms.

  Of course, he had more in mind than a tumble between the sheets. Dr. Damon Finn had a more permanent arrangement planned for the future.

  Yessssss.

  3

  The future. Hers and mine.

  Damon had plans all right. Only she didn’t seem interested. Like at all. Not in him or his plans. It was positively galling! What female didn’t dream of being mated to a doctor?

  Not to mention the fact Damon was quite good looking, or so his mother always said. Not only did he have thick hair and excellent teeth he also was really quite fit.

  As for his shifter half, well, his snake was quite something. Ball pythons were very rare in their world, and his unique bumblebee morph was beautiful to behold, if he said so himself.

  Conceited?

  Maybe.

  But with good reason.

  No other snake shifter could claim such marvelous coloring, such glorious musculature and smooth scales. But that wasn’t all Damon had to offer.

  He’d tried telling her, but would she listen? Not even after Tony had forced her to follow him.

  “Ms. DiCarlo, it’s important you know I am the founder of HOLE.”

  “Which hole?”

  “This HOLE. It’s mine.”

  “You want credit for finding your own hole? Buddy, if I had a nickel…” she said, shaking her head.

  “I’m a good doctor, Ms. DiCarlo—”

  “With a terrible bedside manner. But then again, your nurses have that problem too,” she’d said, glaring at the redheaded nurse who happened by.

  He’d made a mental note. Tell shifter resources to speak to the nurses about appropriate uniforms. Nurse Mabel’s resembled a Halloween costume as opposed to the functional scrubs everyone else wore.

  Did Julietta care he was the founder of HOLE? Nope. Did she ask about his job perks as top physician?

  Nope. Niente. Nothing. Nada.

  Traveling around the world was part of Damon’s job. Perhaps the part he liked the most. As such, he could take his future mate anywhere.

  What female wouldn’t adore shopping in Paris? Lunching in Rome? Swimming the day away somewhere in the Mediterranean? Or spending time in his secluded cabin in the woods in the Rockies?

  HOLEs were popping up all over the world. Working hand in hand with groups like FUC, PRIC, ASS—short for Avian Soaring Security—and the newly established COOTER—the Central Office for the Organization of Therapeutic and Essential Remedies. Damon’s HOLEs were now a regular part of the assembly of shifters working to help other shifters on the daily.

  He was proud of his accomplishments. But he wanted more. He wanted her. His mate.

  Julietta.

  His inner python pined for the brown-haired beauty. But the magnetic mouse snubbed his advice, refused to heed his medical directions, and downright ignored him. And now she was gone! Missing on his watch. That last bit really stuck in his craw.

  Ssssss.

  His inner python's agitated hiss filled his brain. Damon was unsure whether to scream, scramble, or simply panic when he saw her bed was empty. Before he could act, he overheard the same nurse who’d greeted him earlier chittering away to another HOLE employee.

  Keeping to the shadows, he stood still and silent while his employees chatted. The perpetually pristine physician was not eavesdropping exactly—okay, yeah, he was. But it was for a darn good reason! Damon was obligated to check in on his patients. Even the ones who ran away.