Hidden Trump (Bite Back 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

of the unit as it went through its routine.
    The readout started flashing at me.
    Damn. The batteries were probably getting low. I didn’t even know where they went in. I unstrapped it and turned it over. This wasn’t a consumer product with a handy little battery compartment. I’d need a screwdriver to take the thing apart.
    I turned it back right side up and looked more carefully at the flashing message.
    “ANOM 0.38” was blinking, and next to it, in steady letters, “: 0.41.”
    I reset it. That’s to say I switched it off, banged it on the steering wheel a couple of times and then started again. It came up with the same result. It had never done that before. It always came up with a reading like 0.45 or something like that, in solid letters.
    Time to ask questions.
    The colonel didn’t answer his cell. That was the first time ever, and I sat there staring thoughtfully as the voicemail message came on for the second time.
    I had one other number—for the Obs team at the main laboratory. I didn’t want to talk to them, but those flashing numbers were making me nervous.
    One of the scientists answered. I recognized his voice, but couldn’t bring the name or face to mind.
    “Hi, it’s Amber Farrell, can I talk to you about the blood test readings please?” I said awkwardly. I probably wasn’t supposed to have the test unit.
    “Oh, yes, Ms. Farrell. It’s time you came in and we did another full review.”
    “Fine,” I lied. “When the colonel arranges it. But today, I just wanted to check a message I’ve got on the unit.”
    “Okay, but the messages are very simple. It should be obvious.”
    “So what does a flashing ANOM mean?”
    “You can’t have that reading. Look, you’ll need to come in and we can do a full test of everything.”
    I rolled my eyes. This was worse than a computer support line.
    “Just tell me what it means when there’s a flashing ANOM on the readout.”
    I could hear him sigh. “The unit could be faulty. It’s set up to read vampiric prions, and when it does it will give you the standard index reading between 0 and 1. Any other kind of prion, it’ll flash up an anomalous reading.” He stopped, and I could hear him change mental gears suddenly. “Hey, you sent us some werewolf stuff a couple of weeks ago, didn’t you? You haven’t just run the test on a werewolf? Oh my God, you have. Listen, you have to bring them in. This is so important.”
    My stomach twisted. Werewolf prions.
    “Yeah,” I said, pretending I wasn’t concerned. “Tell Colonel Laine to call and arrange it.” Over my dead body. I ended the call.
    Shit. I sat there shivering and let it sink in.
    This can’t be happening to me.
    Were and Athanate can’t cross-infuse. Alex had told me that.
    Oh, my God. Alex. What had we done?
    I called him. Voicemail, and this wasn’t the sort of thing you leave messages about.
    Had he called me?
    I flicked through my messages. He had. My stomach sank.
    I’d run out on him this morning, responding to Jen’s call for help. We’d been in mid-session, just about to get naked and horizontal. Our first ever time together, my first guy for more than a couple of years. Oh, and my first ever werewolf. We’d been steaming and he had to have been angry when I’d gone, however well he’d hidden it. Had I screwed this up before we even got started? Or was this a call to ask why he was suddenly getting a different type of fang?
    I listened to his voicemail, carefully, a couple of times. He’d had to go out of town and would call me on his return. Probably tomorrow. There was something important that he wanted to explain to me as soon as possible. His voice had a warm edge when he said that and in spite of the turmoil I felt, I grinned as my body responded to his tone. Definitely not a ‘thanks and I’ll call you’ message. No indication he’d had any Athanate-induced problems, either.
    One of the reasons I’d avoided dating guys for the last couple of years was the