Her Desert Panther PrincesHowls Romance Page 12

  As the palace loomed in the distance, surrounded by gentle, deadly dunes, Amy’s thoughts turned to Nabila and how to treat her. The test results had lulled her into a dangerous sense of security. Shon wouldn’t have jumped in a helicopter to hunt her down if Nabila merely had gas. Which means whatever was happening was bad. Very bad. And Amy had left her medical kit in the SUV.

  Shon landed the helicopter skillfully, but at the last second, bumped the skids on the helipad, drawing a yelp of alarm from Amy. She couldn’t be sure, but she suspected he’d done it on purpose to scare her a little. Mission accomplished!

  Running behind him to keep up with his long, angry strides, Amy tried to think of something to say. They raced down the winding staircase from the roof, their footfalls echoing in the tension between them. She had to say something. Hopefully once she got the first word out, the rest would come naturally.

  “Shon,” she said, panting as she tried to keep up with him.

  He ignored her. Didn’t even slow down.

  “Shon!”

  “Not now.” He slammed the door at the bottom of the stairs open, not bothering to hold it open for her.

  Pushing through after him, she said, “Then when? I know you’re hurt, but I was confused. I’m so sorr—”

  Shon stopped so abruptly, she almost ran into him. Spinning around he cast a rage-filled glare at her. Even his eyes were flashing yellow, a sure sign his panther was ready to pounce.

  “You think this is about me? What I can’t understand, Doctor Sullivan, is what kind of doctor leaves her sick patient because she’s confused!”

  The comment stung as much as a slap in the face. She opened her mouth to respond, to insist she was a good and caring doctor, that she only had her patients’ best interests at heart…but she’d proven that untrue. He was right. She’d put her own selfish needs before Nabila’s. She’d devoted the last two decades to becoming the best shifter prenatal physician in the world, and she’d turned her back on her mission over the attention of two amazing men.

  What kind of doctor, indeed!

  “I-I’m sorry,” she muttered, but Shon had already spun on his heel and started jogging down the long royal corridor.

  As he opened the door to the queen’s quarters, the sounds of chaos spilled out. Men’s voices murmured, metal clanked against metal, something glass shattered on the tile floor.

  “Make it stop!” Nabila screeched.

  Amy rounded the corner and spotted Tahvo sitting on the edge of the bed, holding Nabila’s hand in his. She squeezed so tightly, her knuckles paled, but Tahvo barely seemed to notice. He glanced up at Amy when she entered the room, but she could read no emotion on his face. Instead, he turned his attention back to his sister-in-law and murmured comforting words to her.

  Zafar stood next to him, pale and speechless as he watched his wife writhe on the bed. He looked broken and hopeless. As much as he hated Amy, her heart ached for his pain.

  An older man, dressed in a crisp white coat, was pulling on Nabila’s feet, trying to spread her legs. She kicked at him in her agony and black fur erupted on his arms and cheeks.

  “Someone hold her down so I can examine her,” he growled through his elongating fangs.

  “Stop that right now!” Amy commanded, stomping up to the man and pushing his hands away from her patient before wheeling on Zafar. “What the hell is this?”

  Zafar’s gaze moved ever-so-slowly from his wife to her doctor, hate and murder pouring from them. “That is Dr. Hadad, a doctor of our own kind whom I know to be trustworthy. I kept him on retainer for this very eventuality.”

  Amy’s cheeks flamed at the insult that she so rightly deserved. Regardless, Nabila needed her, and she wasn’t about to let some stranger who didn’t know all the details take over.

  “Fine. He can stay, but I need to examine my patient now.”

  Amy tried to push past Zafar, but he blocked her path.

  “Your services are no longer needed in Adikar, Doctor.”

  The way he sneered the last word made her blood boil, but she couldn’t argue with him. She’d put Nabila’s life in jeopardy by running away from an uncomfortable personal situation. She deserved every bit of vile Zafar wanted to spit at her, but she also had a job to do and nothing was going to stop her.

  Refusing to budge, Amy glared up at the king and shoved her fists onto her hips. “Too bad. Your wife and baby need my help, and you’re in my way. Now move!”

  Zafar snorted humorlessly. “Your help? I think you’ve proven to everyone here you’re no help to anyone. Get out of my palace and be grateful for the paycheck you didn’t earn.”

  Nabila moaned in pain, and that was all it took for Amy to take action. Giving Zafar a hard shove, she caught him off-guard and he stumbled backward a step before regaining his footing. Big hands grabbed her arm before she could reach Nabila and dragged her away.

  “Go,” he hissed in her ear, “before I hurt you.”

  His eyes flashed yellow and a light dusting of fur sprouted across his skin. Worst of all, his fangs descended, and they didn’t stop. Panic tried to take hold of Amy’s will, but she slapped it down. Wrenching her arm free, she darted past the king, but when he moved to grab her again, she tripped over his foot and fell flat on her back, knocking the wind out of her.

  Amy lay gasping to draw air into her lungs for a few seconds, and in that short time, Zafar fully released his panther. By the time she could breathe again, the massive black cat straddled her, his paws holding down her arms while drool dripped from his teeth as he snarled inches away from her face.

  “Zafar!” Shon and Tahvo both shouted and leaped for their brother.

  Amy knew they wouldn’t reach him in time. He was quite literally ready to bite her head off. Only a miracle could save her.

  “Amy.”

  Nabila’s weak whisper sounded like a shout to the people in the room. Everyone stopped moving and turned to stare at their Queen. Her eyes locked onto Amy and she reached out a trembling hand.

  “Amy,” she said again. “Help me.”

  Without hesitation, Zafar released Amy and started whining, his blazing yellow eyes flickering with fear. Scrambling to her feet, Amy took Nabila’s hand in hers and brushed the damp hair from the woman’s brow.

  “I’m here, Nabila. I’m so sorry for leaving, but I’m here now. Now let’s figure out where this pain is coming from, okay?”

  For the next few minutes, Amy used Dr. Hadad’s equipment to take Nabila’s vitals. She was vaguely aware of the men behind her, watching her every move, but she pushed her emotions away and focused on doing her job. Never again would she let her personal issues get in the way of caring for a patient. Never again would she forget herself—or the consequences of her actions.

  Nabila’s heart was pounding so fast Amy hardly heard a pause between each beat. That explained her red face and intense sweating. Normally, her baby’s heart would be racing as well, but Amy could barely hear a slow, faint heartbeat.

  Amy went through a series of exams, each leaving her more confounded than the last. Nabila wasn’t in labor, so the pain she experienced weren’t contractions. From what she’d been able to describe to Amy, they were higher up, in her stomach.

  “Dammit,” she muttered, scouring all the knowledge she’d accumulated over the years, including the ancient texts in the king’s library. Nothing spoke of such bizarre symptoms. Nothing explained the queen’s distress.

  Nabila groaned again and clutched Amy’s hand. The queen’s strength as she pulled Amy toward her gave Amy a hint of hope.

  “What is it?” Amy asked when she was face to face with her patient.

  Nabila caught her gaze. Her dark eyes flashed violet, then black, then violet again. Her panther must be hurting too.

  “Promise me,” she croaked, never letting Amy’s gaze wander.

  “Anything. Tell me.”

  “No matter what—” Nabila broke off to grit her teeth against another surge of pain, before finall
y continuing. “Save the baby. No matter what, save him.”

  Amy stroked Nabila’s hand and gave her the most reassuring smile she could muster. “Hey now, don’t think like that.”

  Nabila squeezed harder. “No. Listen. Save him. I can’t survive losing another baby. If he dies, I die. Do you understand?”

  Amy stared at her new friend in shock. She understood perfectly, and she wouldn’t have it. Shaking her head, she gripped Nabila’s hand tightly. “No, Nabila. I’m going to save you both. Do you understand? Do not give up on me!”

  “Promise me!” Nabila countered, her eyes so bright and wild that Amy knew she wouldn’t relax until she had that one promise to cling to.

  “Okay, Nabila,” Amy conceded, if only to calm the woman. “But let’s not give up all hope. Now why don’t you tell me when your symptoms presented again. You were fine yesterday.”

  “This morning,” she panted in reply, her breath coming fast—too fast.

  “Tell me.”

  Nabila shook her head and wrapped her arms around her tummy protectively. “I felt nauseated again, so I ordered some of my favorite tea to calm my stomach.”

  She nodded toward a silver tray sitting on her bedside table. The plate of flatbread dripping with honey sat untouched, but the teacup still had the dregs of her tea.

  “And you’ve been drinking this all throughout your pregnancy?” Amy asked as she picked up the cup.

  “Yes, it’s the only thing that settles my stomach.”

  Amy sniffed the cup and was hit with a rich, soothing scent of mint. Pulling the lid off the small pot, she peered inside and then poked at the leaves clumped at the bottom. Some faint memory tickled the back of her brain, but she couldn’t quite…

  “Does it taste the same every time you drink it?”

  Nabila shook her head wearily. “That’s what I like about it. It’s always just a little different.”

  Then it clicked, but she couldn’t be sure. Turning wide eyes on Tahvo, she said, “We need to go to the library!”

  Chapter 19

  Tahvo burst into the library, Shon and Amy on his heels. He didn’t bother to check if they were following. He just headed straight for his prized medical section. Pulling volume after volume from the shelves, he tossed the priceless tomes on the table in the middle of the room. After pulling the last one from its home, he turned to his brother and would-be bride.

  “What are we looking for?” he asked.

  Amy still held Nabila’s teapot and poured the dregs into a clean ashtray. Pointing at them, she said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but those aren’t all mint leaves, are they?”

  Shon and Tahvo leaned over the wet clump of dark green bits and pushed them around, uncovering a handful of feathery, yellow-green flecks. Tahvo looked up and shook his head, though he had no earthly clue what the yellowish stuff was.

  “I vaguely remember one of the ancient texts discussed all the many ways to poison your enemy,” Amy said as she sorted through the books. “It was so damn hard to understand that I set it aside to have you help me with it, Tahvo, but I think one part had several recipes for concealing poisonous leaves in tea. All I remember is a drawing of a frilly yellow-green leaf that looks a lot like what’s in Nabila’s teapot.”

  Tahvo moved next to Amy, ignoring her delicious scent and focusing on the books. So many of the ancient medical texts spoke about poisons—a popular method of dispatching those who stood in your way, at least in the old days—that he wasn’t sure where to start.

  “Which one?” he muttered as he examined each spine. “Which one?”

  “Wait,” Amy nearly shouted. “I remember thinking how odd it was that the hardest book to read also had the least dust on it. Maybe someone else had been examining it before me.”

  Tahvo didn’t want to believe it…couldn’t believe it. Maybe any of the rest of them, but Nabila was the kindest, sweetest person in the entire Kingdom of Adikar. Everyone loved her—the royal family, the staff, the commonfolk. She was so beloved that the idea anyone would want to poison her sounded completely insane. But he trusted Amy—with anything medical, if not his heart.

  “That one!” Shon cried, pointing to a scuffed, leather-clad volume that did indeed look as if it had been handled quite a lot recently.

  Tahvo was the only one in the palace with an interest in medical oddities of yore, and he hadn’t touched this particular book in years. Aside from Amy, he couldn’t think of a single person who would have dared enter the king’s library without permission.

  Tahvo flipped through the book, and Amy pressed up against him to check out each page he looked at. Shon resumed pacing around the room, his fists clenched at his side. Tahvo didn’t need a special twin connection to know Shon was angry. So was Tahvo, but now wasn’t the time for such petty things. Nabila came before their bruised egos. As much as he wanted to remind Shon of that, he didn’t want to waste the time.

  Shon must have sensed Tahvo’s mental scolding because he growled low and bits of fur dusted his arms. “Hurry up,” he snarled.

  Amy glanced up at Shon, deep worry lines in her brow, but not an ounce of fear. “We’re going as fast as we can.”

  As much as Tahvo wanted to flick past each page quickly to find the right one, Amy needed time to study them all. Finally, she jabbed a finger at a detailed sketch of a leaf that had been hand-painted a yellowish green.

  “That’s it!”

  She snatched up the ashtray and pulled a limp leaf from the clump, laying it next to the drawing. It was a perfect match. Tahvo read the description out loud.

  “Do not allow the name ‘Curly Lace’ to fool you. The leaf of this plant, which is only found in natural oases, is one of the most sinister poisons native to Adikar. When brewed in tea, it is almost imperceptible and may cause spontaneous miscarriage by strangling the fetus in utero.”

  Tahvo could barely believe it. Judging by the shocked expression on Shon’s face, neither could his brother. Quickly regaining his senses, he flipped the page and discovered a recipe called The Tea of Tears. Grinding his jaw, he did his best to keep his panther at bay, but he beast demanded justice. With every word he read, his claws extended farther and farther until he could no longer hold the book securely.

  “Amy,” he growled through clenched teeth.

  She grabbed the book from him and continued reading. “Yes!” she said excitedly. “This is it. Nabila was poisoned with Curly Lace.”

  Tahvo understood her excitement. Now that they knew the source of the poison, they might be able to cure Nabila’s illness. But before they could search the text for an antidote, a loud whoomp! echoed through the room.

  Shon had released his beast and dropped to all fours. His clothes lay in tatters around him, his tail batting away the remnants of his trousers. He let loose a low, guttural scream filled with murderous rage, and before Tahvo or Amy could blink, he sprinted out of the room.

  “What the…” Amy said, surprised, but still unafraid.

  “He knows who did it,” Tahvo explained, knowing the truth of his words in an instant. “Let him take care of it. You and I need to find the cure.”

  “On it,” Amy said, scribbling a list on a scrap piece of paper. “Here, we’ll need all of these items.”

  Snatching the paper, he hurried toward the entrance but then paused. He needed to ask one question, the most important one and the one he was most afraid to hear the answer to.

  “Will…will it save both of them?”

  Amy chewed on her lip as she scanned the recipe. Then she looked up at him with hope in her eyes. “I think so.”

  Tahvo whooped and then lifted and spun her around the room. It only lasted a moment, and when he regained his senses, he realized what he was doing. He stared into her soft, blue eyes as he slowly let her body slide down his until her feet hit the floor. Her breasts heaved against his chest, and their hearts beat in time. His body yearned to hold her like that forever. At least Amy had more sense.

  “We sho
uld…” she swallowed hard, keeping her gaze locked on his. “We should get moving.”

  With a curt nod, they ran from the room and headed in opposite directions.

  Chapter 20

  Even before bursting into Nabila’s quarters, Amy knew something was very, very wrong. All the soundproofing in the world couldn’t dull the screams coming from inside. But once she slammed open the door, her heart froze in her chest.

  Nabila lay thrashing on the bed with her legs strapped to some weird portable stirrup device Dr. Hadad had apparently brought with him. He’d positioned himself between her legs, and a selection of instruments straight out of the middle ages lay on two stainless steel trays on either side of him. Zafar sat directly behind Nabila, his arms wrapped tightly around her body, holding her as still as he could.

  “No!” Nabila screeched, shimmying to free herself from the contraption but failing. “Stop!”

  Both men ignored her cries.

  It only took a couple of seconds for Amy to process the scene laid out before her and grow outraged. “What the fuck!”

  Both men ignored her too.

  Stepping forward, she snatched a particularly nasty doohickey from Hadad. “What the hell is going on here?”

  Zafar glowered at her from the head of the bed. “Dr. Hadad is doing what you have failed to do.”

  “And that would be…?” Amy sneered, turning her furious gaze on the so-called doctor.

  The man rolled his shoulders back and gave her his most haughty look. “I’m saving the queen, of course.”

  “And how, may I ask, do you plan to do that when you don’t have the slightest clue what’s wrong with her?”

  “Of course, I know what’s wrong with her,” Hadad huffed. “The baby is killing her and I’m…solving the problem.”

  Amy gasped and threw the instrument across the room. “Oh, hell no!”

  With a mighty flip, she sent one tray flying, scattering the doctor’s torture devices everywhere. He cried out and pushed past her to collect his precious tools. As she turned to do the same to the other tray, strong arms wrapped around her and Zafar’s voice growled in her ear.