Fang Hospital (Dr. Gabriella Van Court, Book 1) (10 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Max opened his eyes. The ceiling above him was not that of the ER or the call room, and the walls were tiled a pale green. Where the hell was he? He crunched his abs to get up, but the pain in his face halted him. He reached for his face. His arm jerked back. Someone had chained him. He shifted his eyes sideways to find a row of empty stainless steel slabs. His heart hammered, sending shockwaves of pain to his face. He was chained to an autopsy table in the hospital morgue.

He swallowed, wincing at the tinny taste settling on his tongue. It was blood! A warm dribble trailed down his neck and coursed across his shoulder, ending as droplets that hit the tiled floor with successive echoes. It was his blood! Max pushed his mouth to one side, and then to the other. His jaw wasn’t fractured, but the simple test caused a distinct crackling. Then it hit him. Someone had shoved his face into the mirror in the call room. What he heard were glass shards embedding further into his face. What sick son of a bitch did this?

“Good evening, Dr. Cade.”

His attacker pulled up a steel stool and sat next to Max. His jet -black hair was slicked back in a neat ponytail, and he was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and black pants. The man opened his arms, goading Max to view all that he was. Max narrowed his eyes and began to memorize everything about his attacker. If he lived through this, he’d relay every detail of his demented abductor to the police. His skin was bleach, and oddly, he was barefoot. He was a Halloween freak.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” Max asked, his words pointed, authoritative. Although captive, he would not cower to this madman.

The man grinned and bared his fangs. “I an Volk, progenitor and King of the Union of European Vampires.”

This guy was totally high. He’d have to talk him down. Someone from the psych unit was probably already searching for him. Surely the security cameras had caught him dragging him to the morgue.

That sounded plausible until Volk finished the second part of Max’s inquiry. “I seek Gabriella Van Court.”

“What do you want with Dr. Van Court?” Max asked calmly. “Perhaps I can help you.”

Volk threw his head back and laughed. The stale breath from his hardy guffaws blew into Max’s face. “Gabriella, a doctor? You, help me?” He licked his fangs. “How amusing on both points. And by the way, I am not an escapee from the psychiatric unit.”

He’d read his thoughts. He truly wasn’t human.

Volk pointed his finger at Max. His black fingernail was switchblade long and looked as sharp. “I’ve been relatively patient up until now.” Volk’s obsidian eyes seared like daggers into Max’s eyes. He inched up the sleeves of his sweater and leaned towards Max. “So, I repeat myself. Where is Gabriella?”

Max tested him. “She is not here. She has the night off.”

Volk backhanded Max. The glass in his face penetrated deeper.

“Liar! I know you were with her this evening. That was no nightmare, my friend. I actually visited you twice.” He snatched up Max’s blood-stained towel and pieces of tissue and waved them in Max’s face. “You left these carelessly behind.” Volk growled. “Gabriella belongs to me. She has for 850 years. She is my rightful wife, and Queen of the Union. You drank from my cup!”

Volk’s words slapped Max as hard as his hand had. Gabriella was not only a vampire, but she was apparently tied to this monster. How had she landed in Dedham, and in his life? Max blinked. He couldn’t believe she could love this inhuman brute.

Volk stood. Max followed him with his eyes, from his bare feet to the top of his head.
God, this man, this king of vampires, has to be over seven feet tall!

What did it matter now? He’d tell him the truth. “I don’t know where she is. We didn’t part amicably. But for what it’s worth, she never mentioned you.”

Volk shook his fists over his head, opened his mouth, and let out a deafening hiss. “You insolent man!” He leaned over Max. “I could crush your skeleton, leaving nothing but dust beneath your skin.”

Max’s chest rose and fell, waiting for Volk to demolish him. Volk hovered his hand over Max’s face. He grasped a glass shard, plucked it out Max’s skin, and shot the jagged piece, with bullet speed, across the room. It smashed against the tiled wall and shattered into hundreds of perfect minuscule glass beads. He leaned back over Max’s face. Their eyes locked.

“That’s power,” Volk said.

He extracted the shards, piece by piece, splintering them into more spheres until the floor of the morgue glittered like diamonds. He swung his hand, palm up, marveling at his handiwork.

Volk grinned. “Ambience to work by.” He walked over to Max and traced Max’s neck with one of his talons. “I believe we have unfinished business.”

****

Gabriella eased the door to the radiology department open. “Hello?”

No one answered. All the radiologists were at home, tucked in their beds. Thankfully, no techs lingered either, not even K.L.’s “prince.” She went straight to the ultrasound machine. There was little time left before Volk descended upon her. The hybrid child was growing inside her at an accelerated pace. She had to know how far her pregnancy had progressed. Then she could calculate an estimated due date.

Gabriella powered up the machine and lay on her back on the hospital bed next to it. She inched her scrub pants to hip level, grabbed a bottle of ultrasound gel, and squeezed a mountain of the jiggly, blue gel on top of her lower, plump belly. After spreading the sono gel with her fingers, Gabriella reached for the transducer. She scooted it across her belly, transfixed by the wiggling fetus debuting on the screen. From her basic obstetric skills, Gabriella gauged that her less than 24-hour pregnancy matched that of a 12-week-old mortal one. She watched the baby’s heartbeat; her heart was thumping nearly as fast. With one hand on the transducer, she touched the screen with her other. She was already in love with the child.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. And one day, I’ll tell you about your father.”

Gabriella placed the transducer back into the ultrasound machine’s shelf. The screen went blank. She quickly toweled off the gel from her belly and gave it a mother’s pat. She got off the bed and powered off the machine. Not only were she and the other vamps in danger, but her baby’s life was at risk as well. She focused her anger inward, amplifying her powers for war. Her fingernails sprouted to lengths she’d never seen before. Gabriella narrowed her eyes. Now to battle Volk. She sped to the lab.

****

Gabriella charged into the laboratory, ready to lead her army to victory over Volk. She halted and spun around, confused. Her soldiers were missing, and the lab was dead silent. Where was K.L.? Where was Uncle Claude? All the preparations for Volk’s coming had vanished.

“K.L.? Uncle Claude?” she called.

Gabriella rushed to the lab counter. Test tubes, slides, and pipettes smashed to the floor as she flung them out of her way. The dagger was gone.

She ran to the pathology section. Maybe they were huddled there.
Ah, a surprise attack
. She opened the door and stood alone in the middle of the pathology lab, gobsmacked. They weren’t there either. Pangs of worry began to consume her. The lab was eerily quiet. The door to the morgue creaked open. Volk leaned against the doorframe. Her heart shot to the back of her throat.

“Gabriella. So nice of you to join us on this festive evening.” He smacked the dagger in his palm, repetitively, each strike successively crisper. “Were you looking for this?”

She raised her claws, bared her fangs, and hissed at him.

Volk rolled his eyes, mocking her fight stance. “Oh, come now. Don’t be like that. Put your nails and teeth away, and join us in the holiday fun.”

He slowly opened the door wider.

Her knees buckled and her eyes desperately tried to deny what was before her. Gabriella’s mouth dropped open. Her fangs poked her bottom lip. “Max,” she said softly, as if he was an illusion.

Max reached for her. His chains rattled. “Gabriella,” he rasped.

Blood dripped from cuts on his face and oozed from a gash in his neck.

Volk parodied them. “Max! Gabriella!” He grinned. “Oh, this is going to be the best Halloween ever.” He swiped his finger across Max’s flesh-torn cheeks, and licked Max’s blood. “Hmm. Tastier than I had imagined.” He offered his finger to Gabriella. “Care for a nip?”

Anger with a dash of disgust simmered in her veins. She struck his cheek with her talons in revenge, drawing blood.

Volk wiped the blood from his cheek, slowly, and then flicked his finger, smattering the blood to the floor. He glared at Gabriella. His obsidian eyes widened. He paused, amplifying the fear snaking up her spine. She’d thrown down the gauntlet first. She should have waited and calculated her moves more carefully. The consequence of her bold action came hard and swift. Volk grabbed Gabriella by her neck and lifted her high above his head. He squeezed her jaw with his fingers. “I’d rip your head off your pretty neck, if I didn’t love you.”

He tossed her across the room. Her body slammed into the wall. The ceramic green tiles cracked behind the back of her head. She rebounded to the floor dazed. Gabriella shook her head.

Max wiggled in his bonds and pounded the heels of his sneakers into the autopsy table. His ankle shackles clanged against the stainless steel.

Volk whipped his head toward Max. “Be patient, my man. Your turn will come.”

Gabriella righted herself. She wasn’t going to go down this quick.
Stay focused. Remember the plan.

“Release Max. I will come with you. But before I do, tell me what you’ve done with my uncle and K.L.”

Volk shrugged. “That’s certainly a plan, but not the way I’d go. However, I do feel obligated to inform you about their whereabouts, you know, for closure.” He scratched his head. “And Max? Well, that’s not negotiable.” Volk crooked his finger. “Follow me. I’ll let you bid farewell to your friends.”

Gabriella paused, eyeing him with suspicion. She widened her stance and dug her feet into the floor. It was a trap. She readied for him to turn on her.

He clasped his hand to his chest with melodramatic flare. “A trap?” He shook his head. “You offend me with your mistrust.”

Volk read her thoughts with crystal clarity. She summoned her abilities. But try as she might to read him, his mind was barb-wired secure. All she was able to illicit in response was a snowy pattern. His telepathic powers overshadowed hers exponentially.

He laughed, gleeful at her failed attempts. “You’ve always been persistent. But then so have I.”

Volk walked over to the morgue’s cold chamber and opened the door. The pungent draft from the dead smacked her
in the face. Gabriella blinked and reared back. She’d only smelled live prey or the freshly demised ones. Most importantly, she picked up neither K.L’s nor her uncle’s scent.

He motioned for her to join him inside the massive refrigerator. “Stop standing there so aloof, darling. We’re wasting time here.”

Gabriella inched toward the cold chamber, careful to stay behind Volk and close to the exit.

Volk massaged his chin. “Let’s see. Where did I stash them? Three rows over and three down.” He flipped his palms out, sarcastically. “How could I have possibly forgotten?”

He grasped the handle of a stainless steel corpse drawer, and yanked. K.L’s body catapulted out, his wrists and ankles bound with ropes.

“K.L.!”

Volk lifted K.L.’s toe tag. His initials were written in blood. He glanced at Gabriella and grinned. “Yes, this is the right one.”

K.L. did not move. Fear had crept from her brain and spread to her muscles.

“Oh, he’s all right.” Volk slapped K.L.’s cheek. “Wake up, my little fruit!”

K.L.’s eyes flicked open.

Gabriella abandoned her “escape position” and rushed over to K.L. She smoothed his hair.

Volk chortled. “How touching.” He grabbed another handle. “And cater-cornered, we have...”

He pulled another drawer open.

Gabriella’s heart cracked. “Uncle Claude!”

“I’m all right, dear. My confinement was actually quite restful.” Claude glared at Volk. “Although, short-lived.”

Volk lifted Claude’s bound body and threw him against a wall. Claude crumbled to the floor.

Gabriella raced to minister to him, but Volk raised his palm. His power halted her before she could reach her uncle.

“Leave him!” Volk bellowed.

Her mind ticked. She had to get Max out first. He was losing too much blood.

“I must be losing my touch. I can’t seem to kill this traitorous vampire. Nor this scoundrel here.”

Two drawers above Uncle Claude’s, Volk yanked out Marcus. Volk shook his head. “You again.”

Marcus smiled. “Perhaps you are fading a bit. Between me and Claude, you’re zero for two.”

“Well, allow me to improve my abysmal statistics.”

He gazed at Gabriella, his obsidian, narrowed eyes piercing her angry ones like daggers. He pointed his talon at her. “Go sit by Max and watch. I have four now, to take care of. Then we’ll be off.”

A revised plan struck her. She scrambled the tactics with random words, thwarting his ability to read her thoughts. Unless he was playing coy, he made no response. It must have worked. Gabriella willed her eyes to soften. Feigning obedience, she walked over to Max and sat on a stool by his side. She caressed his wounded cheeks with her eyes. Max let out a grateful breath.