Coming ine box set, p.62
Coming in Hot: Rescue Me Box Set, page 62
She frequently sensed other supernatural creatures when she was out and about—in the street, the supermarket, the cinema. But this was the first time she’d ever had one walk in to her office, as a patient. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.
“Hi,” she said, stepping out from behind her desk and walking over to him. Pushing aside her misgivings, she held out her hand. “I’m Doctor Lund, but you can call me Anneke if you prefer. Whatever you’re most comfortable with.” It was a tactic that every patient probably saw through—one to help them to relax—but it didn’t make it any less effective.
Caleb took her hand with a smile, and they shook. “Hi. Caleb Kitt. Nice to meet you.”
They released hands. “Nice to meet you, too. What would you like me to call you?”
“Caleb,” he replied firmly.
“Noted.” She gave a nod, then indicated two plush chairs set opposite each other with a small, low table in between them. “Please, take a seat. Can I get you a glass of water? Or perhaps a tea or coffee?”
“Water would be great, thanks. I think I’ve already overdosed on caffeine today.” He settled his large frame into one of the seats, and Anneke flashed him a polite smile before heading over to the sideboard and pouring two glasses of water. Then she returned to the seating area, handed Caleb his drink, and took the other chair.
“Thank you,” he said, nodding towards the glass.
“You’re welcome.” She had a quick drink of the water, then leaned forward and placed it down on the table. “So, tell me why you’re here.”
A frown line appeared between Caleb’s chocolate-colored eyes. He sat back in his chair and cast his gaze up at the ceiling for a moment, before leaning forward and returning his attention to her. “It doesn’t matter how I word what I’m about to say, it’ll still sound crazy.” He snorted. “But then I guess you see and hear all kinds of crazy in here, don’t you?”
Raising an eyebrow, Anneke replied, “I prefer not to use that term, but yes, I do see and hear about many different conditions and symptoms.”
Looking chagrined, he shook his head, then said, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be so inappropriate. I’m just nervous, I suppose. Like I said when I called up to make the appointment, at times I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“Okay...” She crossed her legs, mindful of pushing him too hard, while at the same time feeling a sense of frustration that she already knew what was wrong with him, but couldn’t say anything. Well, she could, she supposed, but if she came right out and said, “Caleb, I know precisely what is wrong with you—you’re a werewolf,” she’d be the one seeing a psychiatrist. No, she had to build a great deal more rapport—and most importantly, trust—with Caleb before she could even think of broaching the subject. She had to be confident she had a chance of getting him to believe her. Otherwise it was likely he’d walk out of her office and never come back, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. He was a potentially very dangerous creature, and he needed to know that before it was too late for some poor, unsuspecting soul. Or even multiple souls. Hopefully it wasn’t already too late. “Can you elaborate? It helps me to know what makes you think that you’re losing your mind, how long your symptoms have been occurring, how often, and so on. Basically, anything and everything you can tell me, no matter how small or insignificant you think it might be.”
Caleb nodded, took a swig of his water, then put his glass on the table. He immediately seemed to regret the action, though, as he clasped his empty hands together and began twisting them. Yeah, he’s nervous all right. Poor guy.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “I’ll do my best. It started around six months ago, I think. I went to bed as normal one night, around eleven, then woke up a few hours later absolutely soaked with sweat, my heart pounding so hard it almost hurt. For a second, I thought I was having a heart attack or something, but then it settled down. I didn’t know what had caused it—I hadn’t been drinking, and my room wasn’t particularly hot—so I got up, had a drink of water, used the bathroom, then went back to bed. A couple of hours later I woke up again, in the same sort of state, but that time I remembered—I’d been dreaming. Or perhaps having a nightmare would be a better way to describe it.
“I was...” He cleared his throat again, met her gaze for a second, then looked away. A flush of color stained his cheeks. “Naked. Totally starkers. It was nighttime, and I was running through some woods. Didn’t recognize the place. I could see amazingly well in the dark, though, and I was chasing someone. Don’t know who, other than it was a bloke. Couldn’t see his face, since he was running away from me. Could hear his heartbeat, though, and his breathing. Fast, labored. I started gaining on him. He glanced over his shoulder, then swore when he realized I was getting closer to him. Then he tripped, went down hard. I was on him within a couple of seconds... and that’s when I woke up.”
“All right,” she said quietly, fighting to keep her tone and expression neutral, “that’s very good, well done. So that was the first... unusual thing that happened, yes? Can you describe what’s happened since?”
Caleb blew out a heavy breath and nodded. “Yes, of course. Just...” He pointed to his glass of water, then picked it up and downed half of it in a couple of gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing wildly. “That’s better. Yeah, so that was weird, but although I remembered it all the following morning, I didn’t think too much of it. I mean, loads of people have weird dreams, don’t they? It was when it happened again that I started to get concerned about it.”
“The following night?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, a few weeks later... maybe three or four? I’d almost forgotten about it. The first part was the same—no drinking, went to bed, woke up with heart racing and bathed in sweat. But the dream itself was even weirder. I didn’t think it was possible to be weirder, but it was. I was naked again, chasing a guy again—I don’t know if it was the same one—but everything was much more vivid. I couldn’t just see and hear what was happening; it was like I was truly there. I could feel the leaves crunching under my feet and the soil giving way beneath my weight, the occasional rock digging into my sole, smell the plants and the man’s sweat, taste the saliva pooling in my mouth. I think the salivating was the most bizarre part of all, really—why the hell was I drooling over chasing a bloke? I’m straight.
“Then thoughts started crowding into my head about what I would do when I caught him. I wanted to sink my teeth into his neck, and rip him to shreds, splash his blood everywhere.” He stopped then, and rubbed the fingertips of his right hand over the center of his forehead, then pressed them so hard into the skin that when he removed them the area remained white for a couple of seconds. “God, this is so messed up. Saying it out loud only makes it sound more bizarre.”
Leaning forward in her chair, Anneke said, “Caleb, it’s all right, honestly. I know this is difficult for you, but I can only help if you tell me everything, no matter how bizarre you think it sounds.” The truth, of course, was that she already knew how to help him, but she couldn’t do it yet. He had to believe, and hopefully her encouraging him to describe his experiences verbally would allow them to sink into his consciousness. Sometimes all it took was a different way of presenting things in order for it to make sense to someone. It was certainly worth a try, anyway.
His gaze fixed on the carpet, he nodded. “I know. It’s just... it was bad enough inside my head, but saying it out loud seems to have made it a hundred times worse. You couldn’t make this stuff up.”
She gave a gentle smile, even though he was still looking at the floor. Hopefully it would shine through in her voice. “I can handle it, Caleb, don’t worry.”
With what looked like a gargantuan amount of effort, he tore his gaze from the carpet and met her eyes. His lips twisted into a wry smile. “It’s not you I’m worried about, Anneke. It’s me.”
Her heart skipped a beat as they maintained eye contact, and she hurriedly shifted her hands to the arms of her chair and squeezed tightly to redirect her energy and focus. Damn it, Anneke! Now is not the time to start being attracted to one of your patients. Yes, he’s good looking, buff, and yes, he has lovely eyes, but your priority should be helping him, not lusting after him. He could rip your head off as soon as look at you, after all. Though you’re probably safe at this time of the month.
She swallowed hard, then said, “Can you tell me what happened next?”
“Same as before. He tripped and fell, I pounced on him. And then I...” He sucked in a deep breath, then released it. “I... did what I’d... fantasized about. I bit his neck, started ripping into him. I tasted blood in my mouth, hot and tangy. I swallowed some, and more of it ran down my chin, my neck, onto my chest. I carried on savaging the guy, like I was some kind of wild animal, and blood and gore was just... well... it was everywhere. I remember feeling completely elated, as though my whole life had led to that moment, as though it was the only thing I’d ever wanted, and now I’d got it. And then, thank God, I woke up.
“That time I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom as fast as I could, and promptly threw my guts up. The dream had been so vivid that I half expected to see blood and bits of flesh in the toilet bowl.” He paused, and gave Anneke an apologetic look. “Sorry—all this is pretty graphic. Like a horror film or something. But anyway, there wasn’t anything that, you know, you wouldn’t expect to be there when you’re sick. When I was done vomiting, I drank what felt like a gallon of water, took a shower, and got dressed. No way did I want to risk falling asleep and going back into the same nightmare. It was awful.”
Anneke nodded. “Yes, I can understand that. So that’s twice, and things already escalated. Can I assume the next time it happened, it was even worse?”
“Unbelievably, yes. It was another few weeks later—though there was no danger of me forgetting about it that time. It freaked me out so much that every night I was worried about falling asleep in case it happened again. I was knackered. Anyway, the story is identical; naked, chasing, catching, ripping, blood... only this time when I woke up, I was actually naked. I don’t usually sleep naked—though how much clothing depends on the time of year. When I went to bed that night, I’d been in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. When I woke up, I was starkers and the clothes had been thrown across the room. Not only that, it was as if I’d torn them off my body in a rush—the neck of the T-shirt was ripped, and the bottoms were inside out.”
“Hmm.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, and her heart sunk when she saw it was later than she’d thought. “We’re getting a little tight for time now, Caleb. Are you able to summarize the incidents that followed? I’d like to give them some consideration before our next session, where we’ll go into them in more detail. Or have you had enough for one day? It’s perfectly okay if you have. I know reliving this has to be unpleasant for you.”
He’d taken a sip of his water as she spoke, and now he swallowed and shook his head. “No, it’s all right. I can summarize. The following time, same again, woke up naked, and in the garden. The time after that, things took a twist. The dream part was identical, except I have no memory of what happened after the bloodbath. When I eventually woke up, it was daylight and I was in a park a couple of miles from home. Lucky for me it was still early enough that I managed to get home without anyone spotting me. Obviously I didn’t have my house keys on me, but turns out I didn’t need them anyway. The back door was unlocked. Good job I live in a low-crime area. And the last time...” He closed his eyes and pulled in a breath, seemed to be summoning his courage. “Was like the time before, only... I had blood all over me—my hands, my mouth, as though I’d really and truly done what I’d been having nightmares about.” He choked back a sob, then opened his eyes and looked at her. “Anneke... I hope you’ll excuse my language, but what the fuck is happening to me?”
Anneke didn’t know how to respond. She was used to patients getting overwrought, upset, angry, and myriad other emotions, but up until now, she’d always known what to do to help—or to get them on the road to recovery, anyway. Therapy, medication, other treatments... much of the time, people felt a little better already just knowing that something could be done, that there was light at the end of the tunnel and they didn’t have to carry on as they were forevermore. Hope made their lives more bearable.
But none of that applied to Caleb. No amount of therapy, drugs, or other treatments would help him. As far as she was aware, there was no cure for werewolfism—if that was even a word.
Inside, her heart was breaking for him—this big, strong man who was clearly petrified and no doubt had lots of disturbing possibilities whizzing around in his brain. On the outside, though, she pasted on what she hoped was a sunny smile, and said, “No worries on the swearing, Caleb. I have somewhat of a foul mouth myself—just not at work. Try not to worry. I know you probably think that’s a really silly thing for me to say, but whatever scenarios your brain is dreaming up—if you’ll pardon the pun—it’s not as bad as all that. I do...” she considered her next words carefully, “have a good idea what’s going on with you. I can’t tell you at the moment, in case I’m wrong—but if I’m right, then there’s a perfectly simple solution.” She wasn’t sure about that last part, actually—had no idea why she’d said it—but she couldn’t take it back now. She had a diagnosis, but there was no bloody pill he could take to make it stop.
Caleb frowned and narrowed his eyes at the same time. The effect was intense, as well as a little scary, and Anneke swallowed hard before continuing. “Like I said before, I need to think on what you’ve told me, do some research, consider potential patterns, and we’ll talk in more depth about it next time.”
“And you’ll be able to give me the solution then, will you?” he said sharply, his dark eyes flashing. “Sounds to me like you’re just trying to get more money out of me for an extra session, when you could just tell me now.”
Anneke’s mouth dropped open. She managed to react quickly, closing it again before saying coolly, “I don’t like your tone, Caleb. And I think you’re being incredibly unfair to me. I’m a professional, a busy professional, and I don’t need to drag out diagnosing patients in order to fill my appointment schedule. It’s plenty full enough as it is. As is my bank account, thank you very much.”
She pulled in a deep breath through her nostrils, then released it, ignoring Caleb’s softening expression. He’d pissed her off, so he deserved to have to sit through her diatribe in its entirety. And she wasn’t done yet. “In fact, if you care to check, I actually have a reputation for diagnosing and treating people quickly, efficiently, and accurately. And that, for me, is the most important part. I would rather have a hundred sessions with a patient and be sure I’m diagnosing correctly and therefore putting together the best treatment plan for them, than do a half-arsed job which could put someone in danger. Incorrect medication or treatments can be incredibly dangerous. Even life threatening. It would be unethical for me to allow that to happen—to you, or anyone else. But, by all means, if you believe I am simply a money-grabbing liar, find yourself another psychiatrist. I’m not going to stop you.” Now she was done. She raised an expectant eyebrow at him.
“No,” he said quietly, hanging his head. “That won’t be necessary—any of it. I’ll make another appointment, if that’s all right with you, and we can discuss this when you’ve done whatever thinking and research you need to do. When should I tell your receptionist I need to come back?”
The part of her that was still angry wanted to say “Never,” but the professional—and the person that recognized how dangerous he could be if left to his own devices—in her actually forced out, “Next week. Same time, same day, if our schedules allow. If not, as close to then as we can manage.” In actual fact, she was pretty sure her diary was full for then, but she’d work with Ellen to make some adjustments. It was imperative she saw Caleb Kitt again as soon as possible. In the meantime, she had to figure out some way of convincing him of his supernatural status and that he had to take precautions for the next full moon. It sounded as though he’d possibly only transformed once, but she couldn’t be sure. And if things had escalated this quickly in six months, then who knew what could happen next time?
“All right,” he said with a nod. “I can rearrange clients—whatever it takes to make it happen. I’ll go and speak to your receptionist now.” He got up and made his way to the door. Once there, he opened it, but before stepping through, he turned and looked at her. “And Anneke...?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry for what I said. Truly. It was rude and uncalled-for. I hope you can forgive me.”
She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. No way was she letting him off the hook that easily.
Taking the hint, Caleb sighed and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.
***
The next day, Ellen buzzed through on the intercom when Anneke was on her lunch break—usually a rushed twenty minutes to half an hour in which she basically ate, drank, used the bathroom, and refreshed her makeup before seeing her next client. “Anneke?” she said, her tone full of surprise.
“Yes?”
“I think you should come out here.”
Her heart pounded. “What’s up? Are you all right?” Was someone acting up out there? Being rude or violent? She got up from her chair, grabbing her mobile phone in case she needed to call the police.
“Yes, everything’s fine. But... just come on!”
Anneke hurried from her office, along the corridor, and into the reception area. She couldn’t even see Ellen, because the space behind which she suspected her receptionist was sitting was filled with an absolutely enormous bunch of flowers. Glad her next patient hadn’t arrived yet, she stuffed her phone in her pocket, then walked over to the desk and peered around the bouquet at Ellen. “What’s with the flowers?”
