Page 37 of Hard Shift

Chapter 13

Elizabeth stepped down the rickety wooden stairs and over to the passenger side of her car to put the picture on the seat. Her keys slipped free from her fingers after pulling them out of her pocket. She bent down to pick them up and heard the whizzing sound of a bullet splitting the air before the shattering of her window. Glass rained down on her head, slicing her cheek before she could cover her head with her arms. Small shards lay embedded in her skin as she yanked the gun from her ankle holster and trained it over the hood of her car and into the woods behind her.

She sniffed the air, smelling the same rancid animal scents she had when she’d arrived. She stayed crouched on the ground as the door to the trailer burst open.

Matilda glanced at her. “You all right?”

“Yeah, go back inside and stay low,” Elizabeth urged, never taking her eyes from the tree line. She saw the glint of a silver gun poking out from behind a thicket of bushes, and instinctively she knew the asshole was about to fire again. She rose slightly to get the shot, aimed and pulled her trigger seconds before pain sliced her shoulder. The impact thrust her body back into the dirt. “Son of a bitch.”

She sniffed, smelling the tangy scent of blood in the air, a mixture of hers and the shooter’s. The heavy scent of a wolf was nearby. She heard the cracking of branches moving farther away as the shooter tried to flee. She’d hit him. “You better run.”

She tossed the picture into her car through the shattered glass, not wanting to ruin it with her blood. Using her good hand to dial Trapp, she jogged toward the tree line. Blood seeped into her shirt where the bullet had hit her. Blood from the arm, where the glass pieces were embedded, dripped from her elbow as she held the phone to her ear. “Trapp, I’m at the trailer park. I’ve been hit, and I need the damn trackers.”

“Is the bullet still in you?”

She used her good hand and touched the back of her shoulder. Her fingers came away sticky with blood. “No.”

“Shift, so you can heal.”

“I can’t. I have shards of glass embedded in my arms.”

“Fuck, Lizzie. Sit tight. Do not give chase. Do you hear me?”

She ended the call, shoved the phone in her pocket, and held her arm as she jogged toward the trees where she’d seen the glint of the gun. She slowed to a walk, scanning the area as she entered. She smelled the musky scent of the wolf that had been there. Surprisingly, the scent was unfamiliar. She was unable to put a name to the stink. She just couldn’t catch a break today. She’d expected to smell Horace’s unique odor, yet it wasn’t his. She followed her nose toward the smell of gunpowder, and she spotted blood on an outcrop of leaves. She grinned through the pain. “You’re as good as mine.”

Ten minutes later the entire trailer park was surrounded with units, along with Dr. Jamieson Tanner, the division’s personal doc. He walked straight to her while the others worked on canvassing the area. She was sitting on Matilda’s dilapidated steps when he reached her. He eyed the bullet wound, dressing it immediately. “Let’s get this glass out of you so you can shift and heal.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Doc,” Evan added, appearing by her side. “Was it the wolf?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t Horace.” She glanced up at him as Jamieson started pulling stuff out of his bag. “Why are you here?”

“I was already on my way before I got the call. I sensed you were in trouble.”

“We should do this in my office,” Jamieson announced.

Elizabeth stood and walked over to her car. She opened the passenger door, reached in, and grabbed the picture that Matilda had given her before turning and tossing her keys in the air to Evan. “Do you mind?”

“Your wish is my command.”

“If that were true, my case would be solved, and you’d be gone.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes and followed Jamieson to his car, not waiting on a smart-ass reply from Evan.

Fifteen minutes later, she was sitting in the doc’s office, watching him use a magnifying glass and a pair of tweezers as he tried to pry the glass from her flesh as if they were splinters from a tree. He eased a sliver out and dropped it into the metal bowl on the table next to him.

“Jamieson, do you have family?”

“No. My parents died a long time ago, and I was an only child.”

“Someone special in your life?”

He smiled as he continued to dig glass out of her arm. “I don’t have time for a social life with the way you guys are always getting hurt.”

He dropped another sliver into the bowl and dropped his smile. “Jennifer Smith, the woman you sent for testing, came by earlier.”

“That’s good.” Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath when Jamieson started digging deeper near her elbow. “What animal is she?”

He stopped poking, glanced up at her, and frowned. “She doesn’t have one. She had some anomalies in her DNA, but no sign of any animal.”

“You’re serious?” Elizabeth’s mouth parted. “That’s not possible. Her own mother told me she was a fox. Did you check that gene?”

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