by Mia Taylor
“No. It’s my job.”
“Dr. Granger…”
“What?”
“It gets easier.”
Rui gaped at the older woman.
“People dying around us gets easier?” she snapped. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?”
Lucille’s dark eyes clouded and she sighed.
“Every resident goes through this,” Lucille mumbled. “You just have to accept that everyone dies and—”
“Lucille, I know you mean well but can you just not right now?” Rui interrupted. “I have a phone call to make.”
The woman’s mouth became a fine line but to her credit, she dropped the platitudes and left Rui to make the call.
It’s easy for her to say. She’s not the one letting people die.
“Hey, who died?” Wallace chirped brightly, dropping his arms over the counter to peer at her with bright eyes. She scowled at his phrasing and the intern immediately looked contrite.
“Ah, shit. Someone actually died, didn’t they?” he mumbled. “Sorry, Rui.”
“What do you want, Wally?”
“The Cleveland Clinic just got a case of FOP and I know you have privileges there…”
Rui glowered at him.
“I am not bringing you with me to another hospital so you can gawk at a suffering patient with an incurable disease.”
Wally looked hurt.
“I don’t want to gawk. I want to learn! We’ll never see anything like that here,” he protested but Rui waved him away.
“I have to notify a woman that she has just lost her husband of five decades. Why don’t you go bother Dr. Sheldon? He’s got privileges at Cleveland, too.”
The look on Wally’s face told Rui he had already tried and was coming to her as a last resort.
“Scram, Wally,” Rui growled. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
The young man didn’t need a second warning and he skittered off down the sterile hallway of Crossway Memorial Hospital and disappeared, leaving the doctor to her own devices once more.
There was no sense in prolonging the call any longer. It had to be done. It wasn’t fair to keep Mrs. Birling waiting either.
Rui reached for the phone and scanned through the patient list in the computer, falling on Mr. Birling’s contact information. It was the first time in days his wife had left his side and Rui idly considered that he had put off dying to ensure she wasn’t there to witness it.
The thought broke her heart even more.
Can people do that—prolong their own death to keep their partners from suffering?
Rui had no idea—she had never been on more than a second date in her life.
“Excuse me. I am looking for a patient?”
Rui raised her head to address the speaker and was momentarily lost for words. Her hazel eyes locked with a set of eerily iridescent gray ones, a color unlike any she had ever seen before. They seemed to be a block of gray-tinged ice yet they crackled with fire simultaneously.
The man standing before her was ridiculously handsome in a suit that cost almost as much as her first year at med school. His dark hair showed hints of gold and auburn, even under the harsh lights of the corridor.
He continued to stare at her, unblinking, but Rui was far too consumed with taking in the rugged lines of his face to notice his anticipation. A slight stubble had formed along the ridge of his sculpted jaw and she found herself transfixed by the hairs there.
“Excuse me?” he tried again, his thick brows furrowing in confusion. “Is this the nurses’ station? I was told to try here.”
Rui cleared her throat with embarrassment and sank back, trying to regain her usual aloof expression but she got the sense that she had failed miserably.
“It is. What’s the patient’s name?”
“Mario Luciano.”
Rui leaned forward, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she searched for the man in question. She caught a whiff of his subtle but intoxicating cologne.
Is that his cologne or are those his pheromones? she wondered. She forced herself to stop sniffing the air around him, lest she get caught.
“Room 312,” she told him, raising her eyes back up. “Exactly at the end of the hall on the left.”
The man nodded slowly but he didn’t walk away immediately.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and Rui was taken aback by the query.
“What?”
“You seem… out of sorts.”
She scoffed but a flush of warmth was easing its way up through her gut and into her face. She was grateful that her olive complexion wouldn’t betray the anxiety this man was giving her.
“You don’t know me to make that kind of judgment,” she told him flatly. “Down the hall.”
She waved her hand dismissively, cringing at her brusque manner, but she didn’t have time to entertain a stranger, no matter how attractive he might be.
“No, I don’t know you,” he agreed. “But your sadness is written all over your face.”
Rui’s lips parted but no sound escaped and for a minute, their gazes locked silently.
“Have we met before?” she heard herself ask although from where the question originated, she couldn’t say.
“Funny, I had the same feeling,” he murmured. “I’m Ryker Luciano.”
He extended a hand toward her and Rui stared at it for a moment as if she didn’t know what to do with it.
“Rui Granger.” She awkwardly accepted his hand and shook it before releasing it quickly.
“Dr. Granger,” he concluded, nodding at her brass nameplate and stethoscope. “Would it be too much to hope that you’re my dad’s physician?”
Tanned complexion or not, Rui was certain her blush shone through this time.
“I’m not,” she mumbled, shooting her eyes back toward the screen. “Dr. Gellar-Chislolm is your father’s physician.”
She paused, reading the information on Mario Luciano’s chart and her heart sank.
That man is dying, too. God, it’s going to be one of those days.
Not that it should be surprising—they were in the oncology ward, after all.
It was the specialty you chose.
“My dad is dying,” Ryker told her in an almost conversational tone. Rui wondered if he had mind-reading capabilities.
“I’m sorry.”
She loathed how those words sounded, so inept, so useless. How many times had she had to say them over the past five years?
“It’s not your fault. He was a smoker his whole life. Didn’t even give it up when he got lung cancer. Stubborn as hell, that man.”
“You should be with him.”
“You seem in a rush to get rid of me.”
Her head whipped back up and she shook her head vehemently but as she did, she caught the teasing glint in his eyes. He moved forward conspiratorially.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” he whispered. “I’m avoiding going in there. He’s been here for two days.”
“It’s natural for children not to want to see their parents in such a state,” Rui replied softly. “You don’t need to feel guilty for that.”
“Oh, I don’t,” Ryker said, surprising her. “Anyway, that’s not why I haven’t been here.”
As if he had spoken a stage cue, a voice rang out across the floor.
“What the hell are you doing here, Ryker?”
An almost lazy smile touched his lips but his gaze didn’t falter from Rui’s.
“Enter Lady McBeth,” he laughed and lowered his voice. “She might be part of the reason I have no interest in being here.”
“Mom told you not to bother coming, didn’t she?” A furious blonde appeared, her long legs striding toward them, her hair fanning behind her like the banners of soldiers ready for battle.
“She did,” Ryker said, finally looking up at who was presumably his sister. “But Dad called me.”
The woman’s face puckered into a frown.
“Well, that’s just great!�
�� she cried. “Even on his deathbed, he’s playing favorites. You haven’t even bothered to come by and he’s been here for two days, Ryker!”
“Bryn, you’ve got to keep your arguments fluid. Either you want me here or you don’t,” Ryker laughed, apparently unperturbed by the angst in his sister’s voice. “I can’t very well be here if you tell me not to come, can I?”
“You’re an ass, Ryker! You’re a selfish ass who doesn’t care about anyone but—”
“Young lady,” Rui snapped, rising from her chair. Her nerves were taut enough without the blonde’s shrill tones adding to it. Startled, she realized that she was annoyed by the way Bryn was speaking to Ryker even though she had no idea what the back story was between them. It wasn’t like Rui to involve herself in family matters but for some reason, she couldn’t help herself in that instance.
Bryn stared at her balefully.
“What?” she demanded and Rui knew she had done the right thing by using her voice. The girl was clearly a bitch who had no regard for authority.
“In case you haven’t noticed, this is a hospital. People are suffering. Would you mind limiting your volume level to what we call an inside voice?”
Ryker guffawed but Bryn’s face turned crimson.
She doesn’t have the benefit of my complexion to hide her feelings.
“I know where we are,” she hissed from between clenched teeth, her tone noticeably lower. “He’s the one who doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation.”
“I am not getting involved in your domestic situation,” Rui said curtly. “Take it elsewhere and keep your voice down. Please. Have a modicum of respect for the people that are sick around here—like your own father.”
Bryn glared at her but spun away, hustling toward room 312 where she had likely been with her father.
“Thanks for that,” Ryker chirped but Rui did not smile.
“The same goes for you,” she told him sternly. “Don’t antagonize her here. Maybe you can wait for family dinner to do that.”
Ryker snickered, pushing himself off the counter, and suddenly Rui was put off by his cocksureness.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied. “Thanks for your help, Doc.”
Ryker strode purposefully away and Rui couldn’t stop herself from watching him leave, her pulse still elevated as he vanished into room 312.
“Did you call Mrs. Birling?”
Guiltily, Rui whipped her head around and looked at Lucille who had reappeared as stealthily as a spying cat.
Is she checking up on me now?
Rui checked her temper.
“Doing it now,” she muttered. “I got sidetracked.”
Rui pushed the thought of Ryker and his sister aside. She had much more important matters on her mind than a handsome man and his family affairs. She knew that tragedy often brought out the worst in people, after all. It wasn’t uncommon to see siblings squabble when anxieties were high.
They’ll be fine, Rui thought. They have each other and their mother to help them through this loss.
But even as the young doctor picked up the phone again, she was unable to shake the idea of Ryker from her mind as if he had been etched in with a laser pen.
You’ll see him again, a voice in her head assured her.
Chapter Two
Heir to the Throne
“What are you smiling at?” Bryn snarled when Ryker entered the room. “Our father is on his deathbed and you’re grinning like an idiot!”
Ryker closed the door behind him and turned to face his sister and father. Mario lay asleep, his breaths escaping in horrific wheezing rasps which sent chills through Ryker’s body. Of course, no one would ever know that to look at him, especially when he maintained the beam on his face, left there particularly to irritate Bryn further. Yet he couldn’t deny that his encounter with Dr. Rui Granger had tickled him, amid the direness of the situation.
“Well? What are you smirking at?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, sis.”
Ryker idly wondered if she was more upset that he was smiling or that she was cut out of the reason. Either way, it amused him more. In many ways, Bryn was precisely the same spoiled brat she’d always been since childhood. It was difficult to believe she was now a thirty-five-year-old woman when she was still apt to throw the same temper tantrums she always had.
He plopped onto the chair beside her, knowing that his mere presence was causing her more apprehension.
Oh, how the tables have turned since we were children, he thought wryly. Once upon a time, it was Bryn who held all the power, her mere aura enough to send Ryker running in the opposite direction, but now…
“I’m going for a coffee,” Bryn said abruptly. Twenty seconds was apparently her breaking point in her brother’s company.
“Sounds great!” he called after her. “Black, no sugar.”
She whirled around.
“You can get your own damned coffee. You’ll be able to afford it soon.”
Bryn didn’t wait for him to reply, almost slamming the door in her wake as she left.
And there it is again; she’s afraid she’s going to lose her inheritance.
“Careful,” he murmured aloud. “You wouldn’t want Dr. Granger to scold you again.”
“Ryker?”
He turned his head toward his father.
“Yeah, Dad, I’m here.”
A bemused but weak smile formed on Mario’s waxen lips.
“They didn’t manage to keep you away, huh?”
“They tried,” Ryker grimaced. “But…”
He shrugged and leaned forward to grab his father’s hands.
“Your mama means well—” He stopped speaking as a spasm of coughing overtook his words and Ryker cringed inwardly, the sound reverberating in his ears horrifically. For two years he had watched his father suffer. Knowing that he would soon be at peace was a relief.
“She means well,” Mario continued when the coughing subsided. “You know why she is the way she is.”
“I know why, Dad.”
Ryker felt a pang of regret, the closeness he’d shared with his mother in his youth all but a distant memory these days. Whatever bond they had shared was not apt to be rekindled.
“But,” Mario rasped, “you know what you need to do, figlio. It’s on you to run things now.”
“I know, Dad.”
Ryker inhaled deeply and squeezed his father’s hands warmly.
“I won’t let you down, Papa.”
Father and son locked eyes and Mario offered him another smile.
“You know,” Mario told him softly, “you are much more powerful than I ever was.”
“Oh, Dad, I think we both know that you are a legend. No one could ever compare to you.”
“Stop buttering me up, boy. You know what I mean by power. The kind of power you have.”
Ryker tensed instantly, his spine rigid.
Why the hell is he bringing that up now?
“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this right now. There are too many people around.”
But Mario either didn’t heed or didn’t hear his request and continued on his rasping diatribe.
“Use your power to your advantage, Ryker. You should come out with your secret and—”
“Out of the question!” He wrenched his hand back. “Is that why you called me here? To ask me to do this?”
Mario didn’t respond but his rheumy eyes spoke volumes to how he felt on the matter.
“Dad, how can you even say that when you have spent your entire life hiding my ability from everyone, especially from Mom and—”
Ryker paused and looked around.
“You know who.”
Mario chuckled.
“No one is listening in here, Ryker, and even if they were, it wouldn’t be admissible in court so why would they bother?”
“Dad, why are you suggesting this now?” Ryker loathed to think that his father would make such an inane request o
n his deathbed and that Ryker would be forced to honor it.
“I am suggesting it, son, because I—”
The coughing started again and Ryker waited, his eyes darting nervously toward the door. The last thing he wanted was Bryn walking in right in the middle of such an important conversation.
“Can I get you something, Dad?”
Mario shook his head, holding up a hand in a gesture to wait as he continued to hack.
“No,” he wheezed. “No…”
It took the older Luciano much longer to recover from that bout, his face almost gray when he spoke again.
“You need to show our rivals how fierce you are.”
“They know how fierce I am,” Ryker snapped. “I think I’ve proven myself enough without unleashing a supernatural reign of terror on their heads.”
“Ryker,” Mario sighed. “I would never force you to tell anyone. For fifteen years, since the day you first shifted, I kept your secret, but you can’t live your whole life without knowing.”
“Knowing what?” Ryker was beginning to wonder if his father was simply rambling now. Nothing he was saying made any real sense.
“Knowing if there are more like you.”
Ryker studied him quizzically.
“You’re worried that there are others like me?”
“No,” Mario gasped. “Not if they are on our side.”
Dread washed over Ryker but before he could counter his father’s premise, the door opened. His mother and sister walked in together.
“Ryker,” Franca sighed, her face showing no happiness that he was there. “What did I tell you about bothering your father when he needs his rest?”
Ryker was irritated by the words.
“I can’t come and see my own father when he’s in the hospital now?” he demanded. “Is that how it’s going to be?”
His questions hung ominously in the air, daring Franca to contradict him.
“Your father needs his rest,” his mother retorted, her stare unfaltering. “He does not need to discuss business.”
“Who said we were discussing business?”
“You can’t lie to me, Ryker. I’m your mother, remember?”
“Are you?” Bryn chirped in a silly singsong voice which made Ryker want to slap her.