you calm down.”
A nurse skidded to a stop in the doorway, her glance taking in the scene, a syringe in her hand.
Salison. Peyton tensed and the other man’s grip tightened.
The nurse took a careful step forward. “Can you hold him?”
Agent Winston snorted. “While you come at him with that?”
“I’ll get an orderly.” The woman turned away. Peyton took the distraction to hook the other man’s ankle and sweep his foot from underneath him. Peyton yanked himself free when the startled agent’s grip loosened. The man hit the floor with a solid thud.
The nurse fled, shouting for assistance.
Peyton took two steps toward the closet before the Alliance man’s arms closed around his chest.
“Sir! You have to calm down.”
Peyton bent his knees, braced and twisted; pain shot through barely healed muscles. The agent went over Peyton’s shoulder and hard against the wall. Peyton wrapped his hand around the man’s throat and tightened. He bared his teeth around a low growl of warning.
Agent Winston froze, recognizing the threat, his arms falling to his sides. Peyton stared into the agent’s light grey eyes. “I appreciate your dedication to duty, agent, but I’m through being polite.” Peyton tightened his fingers enough to make the man start to pant. “Now, I’m going to change clothes and check myself out of this place. If you’re smart, you’ll let me go. If you aren’t, you’ll be needing that bed behind me. Do you understand?”
The man’s eyes darted toward the doorway and the squeak of rubber soles outside in the hall. The nurse was headed back, probably with reinforcements. Peyton tightened his fingers again; Agent Winston’s eyes began to bulge a little.
“Now, I asked you a question, agent.”
“Yes, sir.” The agent managed to wheeze out and Peyton released him. The man slumped against the wall, his hand at his throat, as he gasped for air.
Peyton stepped back and positioned himself to watch the agent and the portion of hall beyond the door. He figured he could handle a hospital orderly or two. Planting his feet, he concentrated on the door.
Ham stepped into the doorway and Peyton lowered his hands, taking slow breaths. As the adrenaline began to drain away, Peyton’s newly healed chest and shoulder muscles began throbbing, which he ignored. Carefully, he straightened and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. A pose meant to look casual, and helped ease some of the pain.
Ham stepped into the room, his dark brown gaze taking in both the agent who snapped to attention at his appearance and Peyton’s casual pose. A different, older nurse followed on his heels, a syringe clutched in her hand like a wooden stake.
“Agent Winston, you’re relieved.” Ham jerked his thumb over one shoulder. “Let one of the nurses check you out before you report to base.”
“Yes, sir,” Agent Winston replied, his voice rough. He slipped out of the room without a backward glance.
Ham looked down at the nurse and nodded toward the needle. “I think we can dispense with that, ma’am.”
She lowered her hand, but pinned Ham with a cool stare. “It’s protocol, sir. Violent patients have to be stabilized to prevent shifting. We’re a hospital, not a zoo.” She turned to glare at Peyton. “No matter how much like animals they may behave.”
Memories of grade-school teachers flashed through Peyton’s mind. He dropped his arms and gave a shallow bow. “I apologize. I over-reacted. I won’t do it again.” He finished with a careful smile. Her glare softened, a little.
Ham added. “I’ll take responsibility. I was coming to have him discharged.”
She huffed once, turned on her heels, and disappeared from view toward the nurses’ station.
Peyton let out a breath. “Regular battle-ax.”
“Tending injured shifters is not a job for the meek,” Ham pointed out as he pushed the door half-closed. He frowned when he turned back to face Peyton. “Now, you want to tell
A nurse skidded to a stop in the doorway, her glance taking in the scene, a syringe in her hand.
Salison. Peyton tensed and the other man’s grip tightened.
The nurse took a careful step forward. “Can you hold him?”
Agent Winston snorted. “While you come at him with that?”
“I’ll get an orderly.” The woman turned away. Peyton took the distraction to hook the other man’s ankle and sweep his foot from underneath him. Peyton yanked himself free when the startled agent’s grip loosened. The man hit the floor with a solid thud.
The nurse fled, shouting for assistance.
Peyton took two steps toward the closet before the Alliance man’s arms closed around his chest.
“Sir! You have to calm down.”
Peyton bent his knees, braced and twisted; pain shot through barely healed muscles. The agent went over Peyton’s shoulder and hard against the wall. Peyton wrapped his hand around the man’s throat and tightened. He bared his teeth around a low growl of warning.
Agent Winston froze, recognizing the threat, his arms falling to his sides. Peyton stared into the agent’s light grey eyes. “I appreciate your dedication to duty, agent, but I’m through being polite.” Peyton tightened his fingers enough to make the man start to pant. “Now, I’m going to change clothes and check myself out of this place. If you’re smart, you’ll let me go. If you aren’t, you’ll be needing that bed behind me. Do you understand?”
The man’s eyes darted toward the doorway and the squeak of rubber soles outside in the hall. The nurse was headed back, probably with reinforcements. Peyton tightened his fingers again; Agent Winston’s eyes began to bulge a little.
“Now, I asked you a question, agent.”
“Yes, sir.” The agent managed to wheeze out and Peyton released him. The man slumped against the wall, his hand at his throat, as he gasped for air.
Peyton stepped back and positioned himself to watch the agent and the portion of hall beyond the door. He figured he could handle a hospital orderly or two. Planting his feet, he concentrated on the door.
Ham stepped into the doorway and Peyton lowered his hands, taking slow breaths. As the adrenaline began to drain away, Peyton’s newly healed chest and shoulder muscles began throbbing, which he ignored. Carefully, he straightened and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. A pose meant to look casual, and helped ease some of the pain.
Ham stepped into the room, his dark brown gaze taking in both the agent who snapped to attention at his appearance and Peyton’s casual pose. A different, older nurse followed on his heels, a syringe clutched in her hand like a wooden stake.
“Agent Winston, you’re relieved.” Ham jerked his thumb over one shoulder. “Let one of the nurses check you out before you report to base.”
“Yes, sir,” Agent Winston replied, his voice rough. He slipped out of the room without a backward glance.
Ham looked down at the nurse and nodded toward the needle. “I think we can dispense with that, ma’am.”
She lowered her hand, but pinned Ham with a cool stare. “It’s protocol, sir. Violent patients have to be stabilized to prevent shifting. We’re a hospital, not a zoo.” She turned to glare at Peyton. “No matter how much like animals they may behave.”
Memories of grade-school teachers flashed through Peyton’s mind. He dropped his arms and gave a shallow bow. “I apologize. I over-reacted. I won’t do it again.” He finished with a careful smile. Her glare softened, a little.
Ham added. “I’ll take responsibility. I was coming to have him discharged.”
She huffed once, turned on her heels, and disappeared from view toward the nurses’ station.
Peyton let out a breath. “Regular battle-ax.”
“Tending injured shifters is not a job for the meek,” Ham pointed out as he pushed the door half-closed. He frowned when he turned back to face Peyton. “Now, you want to tell
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