She took her first bite of fries when Jackson spoke. “An EMT remembers bringing Sarah in as a result of a hit and run. She was DOA.” He opened his bag, his eyebrows rising at the quantity. He didn’t say anything as he took out his food. “She had a copy of the records and remembered the vampire boyfriend. He had insisted Sarah be assigned a room and hooked up to a respirator.”
“She has a good memory.” She refused to admit she was curious about what type of woman would interest Jackson. It made sense that he’d go for the medical type, since Jackson had a passing interest in the field himself.
“Being threatened by a powerful vampire has a way of sticking out in your memory.”
“True.” Raven snorted. “What happened to Sarah?”
“She doesn’t know. The next time she was on that floor, the room was empty.”
When Jackson didn’t say anything more, Raven gritted her teeth, a bit miffed that he forced her to ask. “Anything in the files?”
“Nothing useful. Only her own notes. When she went to fill out the hospital charts, they were gone.”
She finished off half of her meal and noticed Taggert engulf the last bite of his third burger. “Here.” She pushed hers at him.
He took it, but hesitated. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
Raven shook her head and put the car into gear. “No. I don’t need any more grease, not where I’m going. I’ll drop you off at the house.” When Jackson opened his mouth, she raised her hand. “I’m going to the morgue to find out what I can learn. You won’t be any good to me there. Get your things put away and be ready for our meeting tonight.”
“You mean your date?” Jackson kept his face and tone perfectly straight, but she detected something lurking beneath the surface.
“No. If it was a date, I wouldn’t be bringing either of you. The way he phrased the request made me think something’s wrong and he needed me at the club.”
Jackson’s jaw slowed, but he continued to eat. “He wouldn’t set a trap for you.”
“You sound awful sure.” She could use some of that reassurance about now. She really wanted to know what Durant planned to throw at her so she could prepare herself. She didn’t do well under stress. Things always seemed to go badly for others.
* * *
“Hello?” Raven knocked on the door to the morgue, noticing the dim lighting. “Ross?”
“Come on in.” Ross stood in the corner, a mask over his mouth and nose, his face hidden behind a spatter guard. He picked up a bone saw. “You best put on that mask.”
Raven covered her face just in time to see Ross open up some poor guy’s skull. Her breathing became labored under the heavy chemical powder lining the paper material.
“What can I do for you?”
“A girl was brought in DOA a few weeks ago. A shifter. I can’t find any records and hoped you might have more information. She was at the hospital, so she had to come through here eventually.” The morgue was tied to the hospital. Even if the body didn’t need to be autopsied, the cooler space was often used for storing bodies waiting for burial or pick up.
Ross chuckled. “Very few shifters actually pass through my gates. Most bodies are claimed by their pack long before they reach me.”
“Are you sure?” The room felt absurdly warm, heat blasting along her skin like fire ants. Her lungs felt starved for air.
“Quite sure.” The saw seemed louder. “I remember all the shifters that come through here. We have to take special precautions as shifter blood can react badly when it comes into contact with the wrong chemicals.”
“That’s right.” Shifter blood turned toxic when it came into contact with formaldehyde. It’s why they’re claimed by their own instead of sent to a funeral home. Why didn’t she remember that?
A wave of dizziness crept over her, and she widened her stance to keep upright. The image of the gurney wavered, the body undulating in a way that kicked her gag reflexes into overdrive. The room grew dark. She reached out and stumbled into a metal stand.
It didn’t hold her weight and crashed to the floor with a resounding clang that sounded hollow to her ear. She felt herself falling and could do nothing but watch the ground rush up and greet her. The last thing she heard was Ross.
“Oh, dear.”
She woke up swinging, barely missing Ross’s face. He ducked faster than she would give him credit.
“My head.” She settled her aching skull between her hands and tried to swallow down her nausea.
“You passed out when I opened up the guy.” He shook his head. “By the time I stopped and looked up, you were sprawled out on the floor.”