"I thought he was a demon," said Officer Mallory with disdain.

"I don't know what you're talking about. There's no such thing as demons."

Officer Mallory tipped her head to the side and frowned at her. "What is your accent, by the way? I can't place it. What's your native language?"

Claire examined her nails and tried to not to tell the truth about her accent. "I was born and raised in Holland." All the notebooks her mother had left her about life in this place were coming in handy.

Dr. Hitchinson pressed his lips together. "No matter what she says now or how rational she seems, she was not lucid then. In addition, I believe her to be in danger from that unidentified male."

"I can take care of myself."

That finally drew his attention. "Oh, really? We found you half frozen to death and ignorant of your own last name." He turned his attention back to Officer Mallory and pointed. "I want her admitted to the psych ward at Stroger for evaluation. She's a danger to herself, not to mention she's in danger from that man."

Claire's jaw locked. "There is nothing wrong with me!"

Again she was ignored by Dr. Hitchinson. "Lean on her, Officer Mallory. Find out who that man was that pushed me into the counter. I want to press charges." His eyes flicked to her, examining the bruises marking her wrists and lower arms where Tevan had gripped her. "I will if she doesn't."

"Okay," said the policewoman on a sigh. "I trust your opinion, Doc." She closed the file in front of her. "We're taking her to the hospital. They can figure out what to do with her over there."

Hospital. She frowned. A place where they treated the sick, took care of people. Well, that couldn't be too bad. Maybe she would be safe there for a while. Maybe she could get warm, get some food in her stomach.

The hospital was a nightmare.

It wasn't a place where they helped people. It was a prison—cold, white, sterile, filled with frightening angular metal implements, and screaming, moaning humans. It stank of cleaning products, but beneath that lingered the scent of fear, blood, and death.

The second they let her out onto the floor where she was to be "helped," Claire had wrinkled her nose at the smell and understood she could not remain there under any circumstances. When she'd tried to leave, they'd wrestled her into a small blindingly white room. Petite and starving, she was no match for the two hulking human male orderlies who were manhandling her.

"No! Let me go! I cannot be locked up in this place!" Claire had cornered herself, but she wasn't down for the count. She kicked and her foot connected with an orderly's male part. He oofed, backed away clutching his groin, and gave her a look to kill.

The second male moved on her with ferocity, while the slightly built blond female doctor looked on like she'd seen it all before and was supremely bored by it.