Page 45 of Shadow Scorching

“Thanks,” I said. “We’ll talk to you later. I’ll make sure you get word about how she’s doing.” Diana thanked me as I motioned for Dante and we followed the doctor out of the house.

On the wayto the hospital, I told Dante about my conversation with Diana. “I asked the doctor to do a full tox screen on her,” I said.

“If we can get hold of Jet, I’m going to kill him,” Dante said.

“We’re not sure yet, but it’s looking like he’s more dangerous than we thought. I wonder—we should check her will to make sure it hasn’t been changed. Maybe he’s trying to get to her that way.” There were so many ways he could take advantage of her.

I slowed down as we came to a particularly slick spot on the road. The snow had stopped, but it was frigid outside, and everything was icing over.

“Since he had time in the house where he wasn’t being supervised, and my aunt doesn’t remember, I’ll call Diana and have her make sure that Auntie’s jewelry’s still there. I wouldn’t trust him not to steal everything he could.”

By the time we got to the hospital, Dante had asked Diana to look through the house to see if anything appeared to be missing. We hurried to the ER and promptly were sidelined to the waiting area. By now, I was getting hungry—it was near dinner time—and so I told Dante that I’d be back and headed to the cafeteria. I bought two turkey sandwiches, several bags of chips, and coffee. I returned to find that the doctor hadn’t been out yet, but a nurse had told Dante that he’d be with us soon.

As we ate, I texted Penn.we’re here and waiting. i’m not certain how long it will be.

that’s all right. i set up everything with the others for tomorrow night. i’ll feed the cats. text me when you know more.

will do.I went back to my sandwich.

About forty-five frustrating minutes later, a doctor came out to greet us.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Howell. I’m looking after your aunt.” The woman was tall, wearing a long white coat, and she had the air of a shifter to her. I also sensed some magic coming from her—which was odd. Well, odd if she was a wolf or dog shifter.

“I’m Dante Franco, Tilly’s great-nephew. How’s my aunt?” Dante stood, handing me the bag of potato chips he’d been eating.

“We’re running several tests, as per ordered by her personal physician. We’ve found several unusual readings, and I wanted to talk to her family about it. Are you the only one here?” Dr. Howell looked around, surprised.

I’d noticed the lack of Dante’s family members, as well, and thought it odd.

Dante was about to answer when the waiting room doors opened, and an older version of Dante strode in. However, where Dante was flamboyant, this man was dressed sedately.

As Dante turned, his eyes narrowed and I could smell the change in pheromones. With shifters, they wore their emotions in their body scent. It wasn’t obvious to humans, but apparently my demon side had a heightened sense of smell.

“Sir,” Dante said, his gaze toward the floor. Among wolf shifters, that was a sign of submission.

The older man gave Dante a long look, then turned toward the doctor. “I’m Philip Franco. I’m Tilly’s nephew.”

“You’re Dante’s father, then?” the doctor asked, looking at one, then the other.

Philip’s face hardened and he took a moment to answer. “By blood, yes.”

The doctor must have sensed something was off, because she backed off the discussion of relations. “So far, we know that Tilly has been drained of some of her life force. She’s also anemic, and seems to be suffering from an overdose of razapahn.”

“What’s razapahn?” I blurted out.

“Razapahn is a drug used to cushion the affects of dementia in elderly patients. However, if it’s given to someone whoisn’tsuffering from dementia, it acts in the opposite manner. It can cause confusion, short term memory loss, drowsiness, and anxiety. Your aunt’s levels of razapahn are three times the level of what they would be in a dementia patient. Does she suffer from the condition?”

“We’ve been—” Philip started to answer but Dante interrupted.

“No, shedoesn’t. She’s getting older, and of course she has moments of forgetfulness, but no more than her doctor considers normal. I asked him a couple weeks ago, and while he couldn’t tell me—given confidentiality—he told me not to worry myself about her.”

Philip turned to Dante. “Why would you ask her doctor about it?”

Dante froze. “I was curious, sir.”

Philip stared at him for a moment, then turned back to the doctor. “Will Tilly be all right?”

“Oh, she’ll live, but you’re might call the police. If she didn’t take the drug voluntarily, then somebody slipped it to her. You might want to find out who.”

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