Sam's POV
His own footsteps sounded lonely as they echoed through the hallway.
Sam was in a sour mood, cranky and tired. He hadn't slept good in days. He was tired of fighting with himself. He was desperate for peace, for any kind of respite from this feeling in his gut.
It was the smell of her that caught his attention.
It was the smell of her mixed with the coppery tang of blood that made him hurry.
His feet carried him faster, nearly running toward the scent of her. He would have run clear off the side of the earth if he thought she was somewhere in the universe hurting.
He rounded a corner, drawing up short when he saw her. She was sitting against the wall, holding a rag to one side of her face.
"Miss Roberts," he called to her.
"Dr. Teague," she answered. She sounded displeas
