Wolfen (45 page)

 
"You have to tell them you're here."

 
Danika lifted her head and stared at the girl who'd spoken to her, wondering if she was a day over fifteen. Was that what twenty something year olds actually looked like, she wondered?

 
"I'm just waiting,” she said testily, averting her head and flipping through the magazine a little more frantically to keep from staring at the huge mound the girl had folded her hands over.

 
"You could ask about her at the desk. They could probably tell you how long the wait will be."

 
"Who?” Danika asked blankly.

 
The girl frowned. “Whoever it is you're waiting for."

 
Danika bobbed her head a couple of times. “Good idea.” Shooting to her feet, she headed for the little window and tapped on it.

 
"Can I help you?” a three year old asked her when she'd opened the window.

 
Danika stared at the young woman, swallowed a couple of times, and finally leaned closer. “Danika Whitney,” she whispered. “I had an appointment."

 
"Just a minute Ms. Whitney!” the woman screamed, alerting all the kindergartners in the waiting room to the fact that the ancient woman standing in front of them actually thought she might be pregnant.

 
She shoved a clipboard at Danika and started babbling instructions at her, flipping the sheet over to show her there were two sides to fill out on each page. Danika stared, nodding in all the right places, hoping her cheeks would stop flashing neon red before the woman was through. Clutching the clipboard to her chest, she pivoted on her heel and searched the waiting room for a vacant chair that wasn't next to the child she'd been sitting beside before.

 
There wasn't one. Tucking her tail between her legs, she shuffled back to the chair and hunched over the board, trying to hide the answers she was scribbling frantically in the little boxes—name—Danika. That one was easy. Birth date—late model. Husband/father's name.... Shit! Did they have to make it so fucking complicated? Write unknown? Or just skip it?

 
"Ms. Whitney!"

 
Danika's head snapped up so quickly she almost gave herself whiplash. She stared at the nurse standing in the open door, waiting. Finally, she got up and headed toward the door. “I didn't finish yet,” she said unhappily.

 
The woman frowned at her disapprovingly. “Just hold onto it and keep working on it,” she said and then promptly took it away from her and told her to stand on the scales.

 
"Can I take off my shoes?”
My jeans? I know they weigh at least five pounds.

 
The woman looked amused. “Sure."

 
Danika resisted the urge to slap her cockeyed, watching the little weight bars the woman was moving back and forth and holding her breath.

 
"Weight blah blah."

 
Danika smiled at the woman tightly. “Could you not announce my stats?"

 
The woman sent her an unfriendly look and wrote down her fucking height without saying anything. As if she
cared
if everybody in town knew how tall she was!

 
"Problems urinating?"

 
"No. Every five minutes as regular as clock work."

 
"BM's?"

 
"What?"

 
"Your bowels?"

 
"I have them, yes."

 
The woman's face took on a pinched look. “Any problem going?"

 
"No. I don't need to. Everything comes back up the top."

 
The woman nodded. “Nausea,” she muttered to herself, writing it down.

 
"Vomiting,” Danika corrected her.

 
"And vomiting,” the woman dutifully noted. “How often?"

 
"Every day. Is that bad? I mean normal?"

 
The woman shrugged. “Every pregnancy is different. Did you have problems before?"

 
"Before I got pregnant?"

 
"In previous pregnancies?"

 
"No,” Danika responded tightly, “because I wasn't previously pregnant."

 
The woman's lips tightened. “You didn't fill that part out."

 
"Because I hadn't gotten that far."

 
The woman handed her a cup.

 
"No thanks. I'm not thirsty.” It was empty anyway.

 
"Urinate in the cup."

 
"Oh. How much do you want?"

 
The woman gave her a sour look. “Whatever you can manage."

 
The bitch looked at her in disgust when she came out with a brimming cup, stuck a stick in it, and tossed the rest out.

 
Danika had to work harder to keep from slapping her cockeyed that time. If she'd only wanted a few drops why ask her to do ‘whatever she could manage'? Just to make her feel stupid?

 
She was led to the next torture section where they used her as a pin cushion. After stabbing her a few times in both arms, the nurse looked at Danika as if she was deliberately being difficult. “You have bad veins."

 
Danika glared at her, but refrained from informing the woman that there was nothing wrong with veins, the woman just had piss poor aim. She summoned another nurse to have a try. Thankfully, the second one found a vein after only two or three
more
tries and then proceeded to take enough for a transfusion.

 
She felt a little lightheaded when the woman finally decided she was satisfied and she was escorted to a room, told to strip naked and put on the ‘gown’ provided, and then get up on the table. She lay on her back with the clipboard over her head, trying to finish filling it out, and finally gave up.

 
She dozed off, waking when someone jerked the door open and breezed inside.

 
The man looked young enough to be her son!

 
Flopping down on a rolling stool, he rolled it between her legs and proceeded to chat with her while he shoved several fingers up her twat, peering at her around her cocked legs from time to time to ask her questions. Finally, he got up and moved around beside her, shoving one hand up her and pressing down on her belly with the other while he chatted with the nurse.

 
He gave her a stern, fatherly look when he'd looked over her information. “Well, you're pregnant!"

 
"It's not ... like a tumor or something?"

 
"Nope. Don't think so. When was your last menstrual cycle?"

 
He frowned when she told him, set the clipboard on her belly, and ran his fingers up her twat again. “You're sure?"

 
"Why?” she asked uneasily.

 
He frowned instead of answering. “We can tell you more when we've run the tests."

 
He scribbled prescriptions on the clip board, explained what she was to take and when, patted her hand and breezed out the door again, whistling.

 
They handed her an appointment card on the way out.

 
She stared at it in dismay, feeling as she'd been conned. She had to wait
weeks
more to get a positive yes or no?

 
Of course he'd
seemed
certain, but how much could he tell just from fingering her?

 
* * * *

Con tossed his menu atop the others on the table and settled back in his seat. “I hope the roast beef is better than it was last night,” he muttered.

 
Dakota shrugged. “I'm just glad they got the place up and running again myself. I was pretty damned tired of grilling."

 
"
I'm
just glad I won't be eating here anymore,” Jared murmured. “It'll be good to get back home."

 
Con and Dakota flicked a sharp glance at him.

 
Xavier nodded. “It
will
be good,” he agreed. “Not but what it'll be hell getting back into things."

 
"You got that! I'm glad as hell to be done with this mess, though, and looking forward to home cooking, my own bed ... my own fucking shower,” Dakota ended pointedly, sliding a narrow eyed glance at Balin.

 
Balin shrugged. “All in all, I don't think we could've expected better. I'm just relieved the council put someone else in charge of organizing the local pack. He's going to have his hands full ... for a while at least."

 
Con frowned thoughtfully, stroking his hand up and down the bottle on the table in front of him. “They'll be good little doggies ... until the next full moon, anyway."

 
"Which is coming up,” Balin said dryly.

 
Dakota widened his eyes for a moment and then frowned. “It's been that long? I mean, it feels like we've been here for fucking forever, but I thought it was just because I hadn't had a decent night's sleep since ... since the first transition,” he ended smoothly, flicking a look around the table to see if anyone had noticed the slight hesitation.

 
None of them were looking at him, but he couldn't decide whether that meant they hadn't noticed or if they were trying to
appear
not to have noticed.

 
Jared shrugged. “They did alright the second time—most of them. They're learning a little self-control."

 
"A little,” Con said curtly. “It could take them years to master
not
shifting every time there's a full moon—if ever."

 
"Not our problem, thankfully,” Balin said coolly. “There's enough wolfen here to keep the peace. I doubt it'll be a secret from the others long, but the
weres
will try, now they know what's happened to them, and their relatives aren't going to want to talk about it for fear their
werefolk
will be killed. As long as everybody is working on keeping their dirty little secret in the closet and the alpha is here to keep the peace and make sure none of the
weres
go wild in the streets, I think we'll have a reasonably satisfactory conclusion. They're sure as hell not going to want to spread it beyond this little burg."

 
The others nodded, or murmured agreement and focused on their food as the waitress ferried their plates to them.

 
Balin glanced toward the front of the restaurant as the bell over the door tinkled and froze.

 
Seeing his expression, Con and Dakota, who were sitting with their backs to the door, turned to look, as well.

 
Balin stared at Felicia coolly as she sauntered up to their table and looked him over, smiling at him seductively.

 
"Mind if I join you?"

 
"Sorry, but there's no room,” he said coolly.