On the Edge of Humanity (36 page)

“Commander, we’re losing precious minutes,” the doctor said.

I didn’t bother to turn around. I ran around Dr. Vieira and into the lab.

“Same room as last night,” Dr. Vieira called out.

I made my way to the human changing room, as I thought of it, stopping in front of the closed door. I blew out a deep breath, trying to release my anger. I needed to be calm before I walked in. I grabbed the doorknob, then released it. My muscles tensed and my body began shaking. A slew of emotions coiled through me. A cramp in my stomach grabbed me, gluing me to the floor. What was happening to me? Maybe my father’s senses were right. Maybe there was cause for concern. As I inhaled, trying to squelch the pain, a woodsy scent consumed me.

“Go ahead, Jo. Go in,” my father said as he placed his hands on my shoulders.

His voice only made my body shake more, causing me to grind my teeth together. I was glad that my fangs were tucked in, otherwise they would’ve poked through my bottom lip. I didn’t move.

He squeezed my shoulders. “You need to be calm.”

No shit! I was trying, but his presence wasn’t helping me.

“He’s not in there yet,” my father whispered.

His tone was calm, which only scared me. Since I had just flipped him the finger, I had thought he would’ve at least reprimanded me. But now wasn’t the time to worry about my father and his emotions. Sam needed me.

I commanded my brain to lift my right foot, but I still couldn’t move. I thought I had the courage. Tears burned my eyes. I didn’t want to see Sam’s lifeless body again.

My dad reached around me, grabbed the doorknob and twisted it to the right. Then he eased me in gently, pushing me until my feet moved. The room was the same only this time there were three IV stands instead of one. Alcohol seeped into my nostrils, which led me to believe the room had been sanitized minutes before I walked in.

“Jo, have a seat on the bed on the right,” Dr. Vieira instructed.

“Where’s Sam?” I asked as I sat down on the bed, taking in steady breaths, trying to still my shaking limbs.

“I’ll wheel him in shortly. I need a sample of your blood first. I don’t know what Patrick’s blood did to you. So, for Sam’s sake, I hope it’s now clean of any drugs before we begin.”

Oh no, not again. I prayed this was the last time I would be poked and pricked with needles, but something told me otherwise.

Dr. Vieira inserted the IV into my hand, and hooked up the bag. The clear liquid drained through the tube into me, the cold fluid sending a chill up my arm.

“Take a deep breath,” Dr. Vieira instructed. “You need to relax. I need your heart to stop racing before I extract your blood.”

I took another deep breath in, only this time through my nose. I released and repeated the process. After a few rounds, my heartbeat slowed and my body didn’t shake anymore.

Dr. Vieira pulled a vial of blood from me, then left the room. My father walked up to me. He grabbed my legs and eased them up onto the bed.

“Lie back,” he said.

I rested my head on the pillow.

“I’ll be here the whole time, so don’t worry.”

I wasn’t worried. He was the one who should be worried. Argh! I wanted to strangle him. My emotions were one gigantic rollercoaster ride when it came to my father, or maybe it was just vampire puberty in full bloom.

A few minutes passed before Dr. Vieira wheeled in Sam. I sat up and gasped as I gazed upon his frail and pale body.

“Steven, can you help? Let’s move him from here to the bed.”

Dr. Vieira and my dad lifted Sam from the stretcher and carried him to the bed. I jumped up but stopped. My IV prevented me from going too far. I desperately wanted to touch him, hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but he looked as if he were ready for the morgue. My heart sank and tears rolled down my cheeks. I sat on the bed helpless as Dr. Vieira inserted more needles and tubes into him.

Sam’s hair was greasy, his arms had several puncture wounds from my evil uncle and his eyes were wrapped in shadows by the dark circles that surrounded them. I blessed myself and silently recited the Lord’s Prayer.

Dr. Vieira finished hooking up all the equipment. I watched in horror as the heart monitor displayed a flat line. Did that mean…?

“Is he dead?” I asked.

“No, his heart is extremely weak,” Dr. Vieira whispered.

I looked from the monitor to my father, but he was gone.

Dr. Vieira adjusted the drip on Sam’s IV and wrote something on his clipboard. I sat on the bed staring at my brother. Was Sam going to make it? Would my blood do the trick? As I ran through all the questions in my head, my father walked back in carrying four stainless steel containers.

“Good. You’re back. I need to see if Jo’s blood results are complete. Let’s just hope that your system is clean, young lady,” he said, glaring at me.

Geez, what did I do? I couldn’t help it if I wanted Patrick to pay for what he did to Sam. Whether he was vampire or human it didn’t matter to me. As I thought about him, the words he spat at me when he mentioned he was still human—
not for long—
came roaring back. I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I had a strange feeling that I was going to find out.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Dr. Vieira said, pulling me from my thoughts.

Wow, that was quick. He wasn’t gone that long.

“Since Sam has very little blood in him, I’ll draw blood from you, just as I did last time. Then I’ll transfer your blood over to Sam.” He pointed to another IV on Sam’s left arm. “I’ve determined through some loose calculations that he’ll need about three pints. What that means is that as you fill one bag, you will need to drink one pint of your father’s blood. We’ll stop there at first and see how you feel and how Sam’s system reacts.”

Dr. Vieira slipped on some latex gloves, then prepped my right arm by placing a tourniquet on the upper part, patted a vein on my inner forearm and inserted the needle, just as he did a few minutes ago. Then he inserted the specimen tube into the holder and my blood started flowing through the tube down into the bag.

“I take it my blood is clean?” I asked.

Dr. Vieira nodded. “We’re lucky.”

An ember ignited in me. I didn’t like his reference to
we
. Weren’t Sam and I the lucky ones?

I lowered my head onto the pillow and within fifteen minutes my gums throbbed and the back of my throat burned. I sat up. My eyes had shifted and my fangs descended. I was getting used to the sudden split second of darkness when my eyes changed colors, but the fangs, well, they were going to take longer.

My father walked over to me and handed me a pint of his blood. There wasn’t a straw or glass this time. I guessed the honeymoon was over. I opened the stainless steel container and began drinking. The burn slowly eased as the blood coated my throat. It seemed that the more my blood filled the bag, the stronger my thirst for the red, sticky stuff became.

As I took my last swig of the sweet and salty elixir, Dr. Vieira withdrew my bag of blood and hung it on Sam’s IV pole. He readied the tube and the other instruments and my blood started flowing into Sam. Meanwhile, my father had added an empty bag so I could fill a second one. They were sure Sam would need at least two bags of my blood.

“Okay, the next thing I need to do is collect your bone marrow. I don’t need much, but this part can be tricky.” Dr. Vieira said.

“Um, why?” I asked.

“Bone marrow is essential in allowing your body to make new platelets, as well as red and white blood cells. Sam will need a small amount of it to help him build what he’s lost,” Dr. Vieira explained.

It sounded painful and his concerned expression gave me reason to be nervous.

“I’ll inject a local anesthetic into your lower back, make an incision, insert the needle into your bone and withdraw the marrow. As a vampire, you should heal quickly as evidenced by your stab wound earlier today. Any questions?” Dr. Vieira asked.

Tons of them. Based on the concerned look on my father’s face, he had a ton as well.

I shifted my gaze back to Dr. Vieira. “Just get this over with.”

Time was running out and my patience was fading fast. I wanted to be a normal teenager again—as normal as I could be as a vampire. I wanted my brother back so that we could enjoy our brother and sister relationship. I wanted to hang out with my best friend Darcy, even though she could be annoying at times and I wanted to see Ben. I needed to make sure he was okay. I had been told he was fine, but I wanted to see for myself. A tingling sensation fluttered through me and I flinched.

“What is it?” Dr. Vieira asked.

“Huh?”

“Your pulse quickened.”

“I’m fine,” I said as heat rose, stinging my cheeks.

I didn’t want to tell him I was thinking about Ben. Besides, I didn’t know what to make of the sudden fluttering inside me. Hell, I didn’t know what to make of any of this. I was confused about my new vampire body, about still having a heartbeat and a pulse. What did all this mean? I filed all these questions away for now.

The needle pricked my skin as if a bee had stung me and I flinched.

“It’s just the anesthetic,” Dr. Vieira said.

“It didn’t hurt that much,” I said, my voice laden with surprise.

“Good. If you feel the incision, let me know.”

I resumed my fetal position as he instructed me to. I waited for the pain from the knife, but I didn’t feel anything.

“How are you doing?” Dr. Vieira asked.

“Still no pain,” I replied.

“Well, you might feel this,” he said.

I turned my head slightly, caught sight of the long needle and I almost passed out.

“Head down,” he commanded.

“Don’t move. This is where it’s critical you stay still or else Dr. Vieira could paralyze you,” my father barked.

I froze at that statement. Wouldn’t that be icing on the cake—a paralyzed vampire? Was there such a thing? I made a mental note to ask Dr. Vieira later.

A few minutes passed and I waited, expecting to feel a prick from the syringe as Dr. Vieira inserted it into my bone. I tried to think of anything other than that long needle. The only thing it reminded me of was Jonah and the horse needle, though that was small compared to the one Dr. Vieira was using.

“All set,” Dr. Vieira said. “You can relax now.”

I uncurled my body when Dr. Vieira spoke. When I turned, my father was sitting on the bed, sweat beaded on his forehead.

“You okay?” my father asked.

“I didn’t feel much. A little pressure but that was it. What now?”

“We wait. We’ll see how Sam’s body reacts to your blood. It may take longer and Dr. Vieira may need more blood from you. You’re doing great,” he said as he released a deep sigh.

“Do you still think I’m going to die?” I asked.

“A dad can worry, can’t he?”

I guess he had that right. I wasn’t familiar with having a dad around so all this was new to me.

Dr. Vieira stepped out and my father rose from the bed. He grabbed a metal chair that was sitting next to the door, dragged it over, and sat down.

“We need to talk, young lady.”

Oh boy. I didn’t like his tone. I had a feeling about what was coming. He had me trapped too. I couldn’t run this time if he pissed me off.

He dropped his head in hands and ran his fingers through his black shoulder-length hair. He raised his head and his eyes had shifted.

This can’t be good.

“I know you’re going through a lot of different emotions. You’re in the heightened stages of vampire puberty. I know this is hard for you. I told you the other day that I didn’t want this life for you and I wish I could turn back the clock, but that’s not how life works. I lost both of you once and I don’t want to screw this up again. I have a chance to get to know my daughter and possibly my son. So call me selfish if you want to, but don’t ever, ever disrespect me again.”

His silver gaze bored into me and his right cheek was twitching. I imagined he was biting the inside of it.

I wanted to pull out the tubes in my arm and claw at him. But something in his eyes scared me. I had a fleeting thought that if he wanted to, he would hurt me.

“Do you understand me, Jo?”

All I could do was nod. Besides, I was tired. As if my inner computer chip kicked in, opening the file on
vampire puberty
, a pool of emotions consumed me. Tears streamed down my face.

My dad grabbed my hand and squeezed it, which only caused the floodgates to open and I began sobbing.

“Shh. It’s okay,” he whispered. “This is hard for me too.” He wiped the tears away from my cheek with his free hand. “We’ll get through this.”

He might get through this, but I wasn’t sure if I would. I glanced at Sam then back at my dad.

As if he knew what I was thinking, he said, “I know you love your brother. I’m praying too.”

My mind was swimming with questions. What happened if Sam didn’t make it? Could I live an immortal life without him? What did the future hold? As if God were teasing me, giving me a taste of the future, Sam’s body twitched.

“Let me up,” I said.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sam moved.”

My father stood up and kicked the chair out of the way.

I rose, grabbed the IV pole, and walked the few steps over to Sam’s bed. My father and I both stood over Sam examining every inch of his body, looking for movement. After a few minutes, nothing more happened. Maybe it wasn’t God who spoke to me. Maybe the devil was playing a trick on me.

My father grabbed me and wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry,” he said as he stroked my hair.

Now I was confused. He just reprimanded me and now he was telling me he was sorry.

“Why?” I asked as my head rested against his chest, his heart beating a steady rhythm.

He didn’t answer. I pulled away and tears spilled down his cheeks. His emotions spoke volumes and I didn’t need a verbal answer, at least not right now.

“We should get some rest. It’s going to be a long few days,” he said, walking over to the big, cushy chair in the corner.

I sat down on Sam’s bed. I wasn’t sleepy. I brushed back his hair with my fingers. Then I held his hand, stroking the back of it in rhythm with the heart monitor that beeped every few seconds. My eyelids started to close when Dr. Vieira walked in.

“No change, huh?” he asked. “Maybe the marrow will help.” He inserted it into Sam’s IV.

I had hoped that when Dr. Vieira injected the marrow we would see immediate results. But as time passed, nothing happened.

After about ten hours of waiting, pacing the floor and trying to sleep, I had the jitters. My heart beat rapidly as if I were on speed. I wasn’t sure why. Was it from not sleeping? I wanted to stay alert in case Sam woke up, but his comatose state hadn’t changed at all.

“Can I see Ben?” I asked while I nervously waited. He was now awake, according to Dr. Vieira.

The answer wasn’t just
no
, but
hell
no
.

“He’s weak and needs rest,” my father said.

My wonderfully irritating father was adamant about me staying in the room in case Dr. Vieira needed me, but the adrenaline running rampant through my veins was driving me insane, not to mention that the four walls of claustrophobia were closing in. Another hour of this and my father was going to have to commit me to a mental institution.