Free Rippled by Erin Lark Page A

bit would float. Our individual homes had electric locks, which they activated every single night. And to the outside world, I suppose it did look like a place for addicts and psychos. Houses were lined up in rows with drab roofs and no yards to speak of. There were no pets. No cars.
    And if our sad homes didn’t tip them off that this was some messed-up living space, the wire fence around the houses, along with another higher one around the entire facility, would.
    After leaving the clinic, Brian led me across the main yard, past a handful of guards and a pair of very vocal shifters on their way home with an escort. The guards looked in our direction, but said nothing. One in particular met my gaze before looking directly at Brian. I bit at my lip, inspecting the guard’s suit of armour and military-grade firearm when we passed.
    “This isn’t right,” I said in a thin whisper, slowing down my pace. “What if they know?” My thoughts immediately jumped to the poor woman back at the clinic. “Should we tell—?”
    “Everything’s fine,” Brian said, pulling me along behind him.
    He seemed to be in as much of a hurry to get me back to my quarters as he was in getting out of sight. From what he’d said, the guards inside the clinic would be awake soon, and neither one of us needed that. Not when we were still out in the open. And certainly not when they found a woman lying dead on the floor.
    My stomach turned. If they woke up now and saw him leading me back home, they’d suspect the rogue snow leopard was him for sure. Not that it matters. Seeing what Malcom had done—seeing how he’d just walked away—there was no way they’d be worried about me breaking out. No, they’d have other things to worry about.
    The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I froze when the guard from before hurried in our direction. My heart skipped a beat, and I hoped against hope that he was heading for the clinic, which continued to shrink behind us as we walked across the yard.
    The guard held his hand out in front of us, extending it to Brian. “Brian, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t she be in the clinic?” He nodded at me.
    Brian shook his hand before gesturing in the direction of the clinic. “Darien, I can’t explain right now.” Brian lowered his voice. “There’s been an accident.”
    Darien, as Brian had called him, was a little taller than me, and with all the armour he had on, it was hard to say how much of his build was actual muscle and how much was due to the padding he wore.
    He’s probably a toothpick under all those clothes.
    His brown eyes, though, when we exchanged glances, were soft. Welcoming. Trustworthy. Biting my bottom lip, I stood beside Brian, shaking Darien’s hand when he offered it to me. And unlike most handshakes I’d got in the past, his was firm—assertive. Confident.
    “What kind of accident?” Darien asked, his voice wavering the slightest bit. “With you? Her?”
    Brian was shaking his head before Darien finished. “A new blood…” His voice trailed off.
    “How bad?”
    I blinked and glanced up at Darien. Had they seen something like this before?
    “Worse than Krista. Worse than any other who came before her,” Brian replied with a sigh.
    “Are they breathing at least?”
    Neither one of us said a word, and the knot in my stomach got a little tighter.
    “Jesus Christ. How did this happen?”
    Brian looked to me. “Krista? You were in there when it happened.”
    It was an image I was hoping to push from my mind. I spoke, even though my throat felt like hell and my mouth was dry. “I couldn’t see much. The attendings were in the way most of the time.” I swallowed. “Two nurses dragged this woman into the room next to mine, and not because she was unconscious. She was screaming at them—at who I’m assuming was Malcom—and honestly, it sounded like she wasn’t supposed to be here. And come to think of it, neither am I. I remembered…something. It’s