Fang Hospital (Dr. Gabriella Van Court, Book 1) (8 page)

Chapter Nine

Max and Gabriella scrambled into their scrubs and dashed into the bathroom. While washing their hands under the tap, Max glanced into the waste can. His blood-stained towel and swatches of tissue were gone. In their place were pieces of red curled nails. He examined Gabriella’s fingernails as she rinsed the soap from her hands. Her nails were physician regulation, natural and neatly squared.
Must have come from someone else’s “companion”.

They toweled their hands dry and cinched their scrub pants. Max left a bit more room in his, but there was nothing like a trauma to soften a stiffy. With both of them in doctor mode, they sprang from the call room and raced to the E.R. After donning body fluid resistant gowns over their scrubs, strapping on protective eye goggles, and snapping on surgical gloves, Gabriella and Max waited with the rest of the trauma crew for their patient to arrive.

The ambulance, with its red flashing lights, backed up into the emergency room bay. Its back double doors swung open. The paramedics guided the gurney from the rig. Lying in the center of the stretcher was a man with a silver dagger imbedded in his chest. Max caught Gabriella as she swayed.

He steadied her. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes went wide. “That’s my uncle.”

The man held his hand out to her. “Gabriella.”

She ran to the gurney and grasped his hand. Her knees buckled. “Uncle Claude! I thought...” Gabriella’s throat tightened.

Claude shook his head. “He didn’t finish me then, but he may have accomplished it tonight.” He raised his palms around the silver dagger stuck in his chest. Then he crooked his finger at her. She tilted her ear to his pale lips. He whispered, “Gabriella, Volk is here. He seeks you.”

Max bent down and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Go,” he said softly. “He’s your family. It’s too personal. We’ll take good care of him.”

Hell yes, this was personal!
She wasn’t leaving his side. Not again. She thought he had died centuries ago. She wouldn’t let him die a vampire death now. It was all her fault for escaping from Volk.

Gabriella and Max ran alongside the paramedic as they sped Uncle Claude, strapped to the gurney, into Fang E.R. Her heart hammered with every pound of her step.

The paramedic called out, “Patient was found lying in an alley with a dagger protruding from his chest by a passerby who called 911.” He rolled his eyes. “Stated age—850 years old. He said he had an altercation with a vampire. Happy Halloween!”

Claude grinned. “I look good for my age.”

“Yes, sir, you do,” the paramedic said, humoring him. “Upon our arrival on the scene vitals were BP of, if you can believe it, 60 over palp, pulse of 40, and respirations barely breaking ten. But he’s moving air and talking. We couldn’t get a line in him, IV, or interosseous, but we’ve stabilized the penetrating object.”

“Sorry,” Claude said. “I haven’t eaten, and my bone marrow’s been dust for ages.”

“Here’s his run sheet,” the paramedic said to Max.

Gabriella reached for her uncle’s transport papers, but Max snatched them away.

“I’m serious, Gabriella. Please? I’ll handle it.” He motioned for a nurse to pull her aside.

Gabriella clutched the gurney’s side rails, the gurney that carried her mortally wounded, beloved uncle. “I’m serious, too. I’m not going! And he needs blood.”

“He needs more than blood, Gabriella. He needs surgery.”

“I know,” she said somberly.

Max and Gabriella stepped back. The trauma team, on the count of 3, scooted Claude from the gurney to the E.R. bed. They descended on him like vultures, organized vultures. A trauma nurse whipped out a pair of scissors and sheared off Claude’s clothes.

“There goes a perfectly tailored suit given to me by Pierre,” Claude lamented.

“Sorry, sir. But it’s necessary.” The nurse squinted. “Pierre Cardin?”

“Actually it was his great grandfather.”

The nurse cocked a brow. “Oookaay.”

Gabriella moved to the head of the bed and cradled her uncle’s head. “You’ll be all right,” she whispered in his ear. “I’ll fix you.”

“I’ve always loved you best,” he said.

His eyelids fluttered.

“Where’s that blood!” Gabriella yelled.

K.L. burst into the room with an armful of blood bags. His eyes went straight to the dagger. They grew wide, seeing one of their kind. He shot his gaze to Gabriella.

Gabriella mouthed, “My uncle.”

K.L. handed the blood to her. “He’ll need more. I’ll call the lab.”

Gabriella placed her fingers over Claude’s forearm. A faint thrill bubbling up from the remaining blood in his vessels sped across them. “I can get a line in him. Someone hand me an 18 gauge.” Gabriella threaded the angiocatheter into Claude’s vein. She got a dark red blood return.
When was the last time he’d eaten? He’d traveled far to warn her. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.
She repeated the mantra in her head.

Barbara froze in the doorway of the trauma room, clutching bags of blood to her chest.

K.L. ran to her. “Thanks.” He grabbed the additional units from her and clapped her on the shoulder. “That was fast. Great job.”

Barbara moved away from the doorway and pressed her back to a wall, mesmerized by the commotion around a man with a dagger in his heart.

K.L. rushed the fresh supply to Gabriella.

Thank you and Barbara for coming to the rescue for my uncle.”

“We’re your family, too,” he said.

Her uncle was her blood, but K.L. was right. They were a family. Her pulse calmed. She gave a thumb’s up sign to Barbara.

Barbara nodded back.

Her creation had paid it forward. Gabriella hung blood bag after blood bag, squeezing every drop into his body. She stared at his heart rate marching across the cardiac monitor. Despite her valiant attempts, the points of his beat grew wider apart. Her uncle was dying. She had to do something fast.

Max called, “I hear running. It must be the thoracic team.” He crossed his gloved hands above the waist of his sterile gown and ran to the doorway. He poked his head around the corner. “Over, here!” he yelled, expediting the team’s response.

The nurses were busy trying to get more IV lines started.

This was her chance. She grabbed the dagger’s hilt and eased it out of his heart. The electric current from her fingertips seared the hole in his ventricle closed. She leaned to his ear and whispered, “Volk has failed. Your heart is fixed, but let the mortals do the rest. I’ll see you after your surgery.” Gabriella kissed her uncle’s forehead.

“Thankfully, clamming wasn’t your calling,” he whispered.

She grinned. “But I do enjoy a good chowder.”

Chapter Ten

Gabriella pressed her palms to the OR window. Her heart beat for his. Normally, the operating suite’s window shades were clipped closed from the inside, allowing the anesthetized patient privacy. The OR team kept them open for her, knowing she’d give anything to be standing alongside the surgical team. Physician involvement when it came to a family member was taboo. As a vampire doc, she respected that policy, too. But the dagger tip had to be removed. Although his heart was sealed, their fates were not. Volk was coming. She had to prepare. Priority one was getting Uncle Claude into fighting shape.

Gabriella whipped her head toward the tap on her shoulder. No one was there. She narrowed her eyes and scrutinized the surgical corridor for a hidden enemy. Her hackles standing guard, she turned her attention back to her uncle’s chest, exposed for human inspection. The second tap came, landing on the opposite shoulder.

Bring it. Come after me now. Let’s do it!
Gabriella hissed. “You want a fight?”

She spun on her heels, ready for war. Her eyes locked with Max’s.

“I don’t want to fight,” he said softly, his palms open in supplication. “Come here.”

He embraced her. His fingers filtered through her hair.
Her hackles went “at ease.” She exhaled on his shoulder, relieved it had been him, this time. Perhaps it was Marcus who was playing tricks on her.

“I’m sorry to have startled you, especially with your nerves on hyper-alert.” Max pulled her slowly away and grasped her hands. “How’s he doing?”

“I don’t know, but his heart rate has improved. I can see it there on the monitor.”

Max peered through the OR glass window. “Normal sinus rhythm –a beautiful thing. He’s lucky.”

She nodded. “He is.”

Her uncle was indeed fortunate to have been brought to her ER, thwarting Volk’s devious plot. Uncle Claude wanted her to run again, centuries later. She would not leave him, she wouldn’t leave Fang Hospital, and she wouldn’t leave Max. Gabriella swallowed hard. Volk, no doubt, had grown stronger over the last 850 years. She’d need a tactical plan before his predicted arrival. Strategy over power was her only hope.

The approaching circulating nurse waved to Gabriella. She cracked the door to the OR suite and poked her head out. “Dr. Van Court, the surgeons are closing your uncle’s chest. He’s doing better than expected. His blood pressure and pulse are stable, but oddly, he’s still a bit pale.” The nurse shook her head. “The dagger missed his heart, even though the quick scan showed it punctured his left ventricle. Unbelievable.”

“Thank you,” Gabriella said.

Her heart soared. She’d won this round against Volk.

“You’re welcome, Dr. Van Court,” the nurse said, nodding before returning inside.

“Feel better?” Max asked.

“Much.”

She would not mention that vampire pale was Uncle Claude’s baseline color. And it was no surprise to her that the dagger missed his heart. She had taken care of that. Her relief was that no one on the surgical team had flinched during the case. Thankfully, they were unaware that the patient on their table was literally undead. The physician part of Gabriella had always been curious about vampire anatomy, having not seen one filleted open. Fortunately, there wasn’t too much of a difference.

Max rubbed her back. “The E.R.’s still quiet. Let’s go get a cup of coffee.”

Gabriella hesitated. She reached for the OR glass. Her uncle’s energy touched her back.

Go my child. You’re the one that has healed me. This is only ceremony
.

She sent her thoughts back to him.
I love you, and I’ll see you soon.

I love you, too. And congratulations
.

She furrowed her forehead.
Huh?

No response came.

Max gently tugged her arm. “They’re not finished with him yet. Next he’ll go to ICU. We’ll see him there. I promise.” He nudged her again. “Come on. You need the down time. I’ll sit with you.”

Gabriella kissed him, careful not to linger at his lips, in keeping with hospital PDA. His neck was out of the question, for now. Where was he 850 years ago? It would have been so easy then. Max was her destiny. Volk was not. She’d have to convince both of them of that.

****

Max stuck the paper cup beneath the coffee dispenser and pushed down the lever. He glanced at Gabriella sitting at a table in the empty cafeteria. They were alone. She looked pale, and the bridge above her nose was pinched with concern. He was such a shit earlier, annoyed at her delay for their rendezvous in the call room, when all along she was being the excellent and caring physician she always was. Gabriella was the one. He knew it the minute he saw her. His eyes hadn’t wavered since.

Hot coffee splashed on his hand. Max instinctively yanked his hand from the overflowing rim. He shot the lever up with his good hand, and flicked the sting from his burned one. “Ow! Shit!”

“Give me your hand, Max.”

Max whipped around to find Gabriella standing behind him. He didn’t see her get up from the table. “How..?”

“I saw you pull your hand back and heard you yelp.”

“But...”

Gabriella took his burnt hand. The coolness of her touch evaporated the sting. Her cold skin came in handy tonight. There was something different about her. Once her Uncle Claude recovered, he’d approach her about her color, or lack of it, and the chronic coolness of her skin. Max gazed at her hand cradling his. Her fingernails look healthy, though.
She must be hypothyroid. I’ll call K.L. and have him run some thyroid blood work on her, on the QT.

Max inspected his hand. The red splotches from the spilt coffee had disappeared. “How did you do that?”

She cocked her head. “Do what?”

“Heal me.”

Gabriella shook her head. “Honestly, Max. All I did was massage it. Knowing the coffee here, it’s not that hot.”

“It felt pretty damn hot to me. They must have recently brewed it.”

She picked up the coffee and took a sip. “It’s not hot.”

He eyed the cup. Curls of steam wafted from it a minute ago. Gabriella offered the cup to him. Max eased the rim to his lips and carefully swallowed the coffee. It was tepid at best. “Hmm.”

“Hmm what?”

“Never mind.” He grabbed another cup and poured a second one, paying attention this time. Max filled it three quarters full, leaving a margin for overflow error. He snapped a plastic top onto it. “Let’s go sit down before I end up in the burn unit.” Max followed Gabriella back to their solitary table.

She turned and planted a kiss on his lips. “You’re a good man, and I know you care for me. Thank you.”

Thank you? Care for you?
Hell, he’d long fallen for her. He loved her. She had said as much during their lovemaking.

“Gabriella, I...”

She interrupted him. “Max, about tonight.”

He raised his hand, barricading his heart. She didn’t love him. She had declared it in a moment of ecstasy. How many times had he slipped out those disingenuous words with women before? Tit for tat. He was due for payback.

They drank their coffee in silence.

Their beepers chirped. Max pulled back his chair. “I’ll get it. You sit and enjoy your coffee.”

He walked over to the phone mounted on the cafeteria wall. Confusion banged around in his head. Had he misinterpreted her intentions? Max pressed his lips tight.
There is someone else, or some unfinished business with someone else.
His heart pinged hard in his chest. Once everything was settled and Claude was on the mend, she’d have to choose. He picked up the phone with purpose, gearing to fight for her.

“I’ll be there right away,” he said.

He hung up the cafeteria phone and strode toward Gabriella.

“Incoming?”

Max picked up his cup of coffee. “Yeah. Sounds like a simple sprain.” He held out his hand to her. “I’ll walk with you to the ICU, and then I’ll take care of the patient in the ER.”

“Max, I’ll be fine. Go to the ER. I’ll visit my uncle. I’ll join you afterwards. We’ll talk.”

We’ll talk never ended well. “Okay. Go to him. Take your time.”

It pained him to kiss her on the cheek instead of the lips, but it would lessen the brunt of the fall once she divulged that there was indeed someone else in her life.

Max walked to the cafeteria doorway and turned to see her again. He waved. She waved back. Their night of passion had fizzled to a conciliatory departing gesture.

****

She might as well have stabbed him in the heart with a dagger. Gabriella gazed into her coffee. She’d injured him. K.L.’s words echoed in her head.
It won’t work. It won’t work.
Gabriella clutched her ears. But it was her heart that was splitting. She stood and readied herself to chase after Max, but she halted at the cafeteria door. She let him go, for now. She couldn’t tell him the truth, that she was perpetually young, and that he would grow old and die. Unless.... No, she couldn’t do it. Roaming the world endlessly was a penance she would not inflict upon him. Their relationship was sadly ironic; he couldn’t come into her world, but she could stay in his forever, or until Volk changed that.

She sighed and set her cup next to a saltshaker.

“That’s it! Salt!”

Gabriella dug her hand into her scrub pants pocket. Ah, what every ER doc carried—a roll of surgical tape! She ran table to table, taping the holes of the shakers shut before stashing them into every available pocket. Her scrubs and cardigan bulged at weird angles. There was no way she’d walk a mortal pace without catching strange glimpses. She’d have to travel vampire speed to the lab. Time was running out. She needed K.L.’s help.

****

K.L. hugged her the second Gabriella morphed beside him.

“My dearest, how are you? With the hospital full up during flu season, I haven’t been able to get away. Some holiday this has turned out to be.” He let her loose and squeezed her hands. His eyes narrowed to angry slits. “Volk did this heinous act, didn’t he?”

She nodded. She would not stoop to utter his name out loud! “He’s come for me, and, I’m sure, to finish off my Uncle Claude. Failure is not in his vocabulary. He has grown stronger over the centuries, but I will battle him, first with my brain, then with my fangs, if it comes to that.” Gabriella plucked a saltshaker from her scrub pocket and smacked it onto the lab counter. “I have a plan.”

K.L. jumped back. “Hey, hey. Watch it! If you drop any of those, we’ll be compelled to count every grain. That can set us back for hour, hours we may not have.”

The compulsion to count was a vampire quirk.

Gabriella raised her palm. “It’s safe. I’ve sealed the holes with surgical tape.”

K.L. gingerly picked up the plastic shaker as if it was made of fragile crystal. He nodded. “Smart.”

She unloaded the remaining saltshakers. Her eyes darted to K.L. “I need a bag.”

“I know where you’re going with this.” He shot his finger at her. “Lab plastic bags would work. I have plenty for our purposes.”

“I’ve had the misfortune of meeting this despot. The salt will slow him, but it won’t stop him,” someone said behind them.

Gabriella and K.L. spun around to confront their uninvited guest.

“Marcus!” K.L. yelled.

“The same,” Marcus said coolly. “Why are we at odds, K.L.?”

“One, you’re a thief. Two, you’re a menace.”

“Yes, I did partake of the blood supply.” Marcus shrugged. “A vamp has to eat.” He folded his hands across his chest. “I would think twice about summoning your vampire squad to vanquish me. You need me.”

K.L. walked up to him and poked him in the chest. “How so?”

Marcus peeled K.L.’s finger from his chest. “I have unfinished business with Volk.” He undid his white cravat and tilted his head sideways, exposing the healed gash across his neck. “It happened in Sicily. Volk’s mark. After he drank my blood, I refused to follow him. A slice to my carotid was his response. The cut was not deep enough for him, but shallow enough for me. A nurse who was of his clan came to my aid.” Marcus bowed his head. “He beheaded her for her efforts.” He shot ramrod straight. “I am prepared to avenge her death with mine.”

Gabriella’s stomach clenched. She grabbed at her neck. What did Volk have in store for her? Perhaps marriage was off the table. She’d trade it for death anyway. There was no going back. Volk had fulfilled his promise to find her. But she had her own alliance now.

“We will battle together!” Gabriella proclaimed. She’d add the curly-haired Italian vamp to her army.

K.L. bowed respectively to him. “I will call off my vampire S.W.A.T. team.”

Marcus waved his hands. “No, don’t. We will need them; not for me, but for Volk.”

“Done.” K.L. stroked Gabriella’s cheek. “Go to your uncle. We will prepare here.”

Her heart softened. The men in her ‘undead life’ had sworn allegiance to her: Marcus, her new soldier, Uncle Claude who had now twice risked his life, and K.L. who’d do anything for her, including lassoing and nurturing her vampire progeny. Her heart stopped.