Hear Me When the Sun Goes Down

by Lisa Olsen

  I opened my eyes and I couldn’t see anything but swirling lights. Disoriented, I tried to find Rob’s pulse, but I couldn’t feel him anymore. I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I stopped drawing in breath, it was too hard, and it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

  There was… nothing.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I couldn’t move.

  I wasn’t strapped to the table, I just couldn’t make my limbs obey me. It felt like my entire body was weighed down, as if I’d been mountain climbing all day (not that I’ve ever done such a thing in my lifetime). I couldn’t even turn my head, which was disconcerting, especially since the hard surface at my back didn’t feel at all like my pillow top at home.

  Something strong and astringent in the air made the back of my throat tingle unpleasantly. I’d smelled that scent before but I couldn’t quite place it, along with an underlying scent that smelled good, like fresh blood.

  I’d had this dream before, waking up in the morgue, only sometimes it was Bishop that found me there, and once it was Jakob who’d taken one look at me, declared he’d made a mistake and tried to smother me with a pillow. It was strange, being aware of the dream right in the middle of it, but it didn’t do me the least bit of good. No matter how I flexed my will I couldn’t seem to move or talk, so I lay there like a vegetable, waiting for something interesting to happen.

  A muffled but steady thump reached my ears, and in my foggy state I lay there trying to figure out what it was, the weirdest feeling of déjà vu settling over me.

  There was someone else in the room with me, I could hear him breathing. All at once I felt a sharp pain as my fangs descended. Since when did it hurt for them to do that? The thump came closer and closer, maddening in its steady rhythm until I felt him standing right beside me.

  I’m right here, I’m awake… I tried to speak, but I couldn’t make any sound, and my eyes still wouldn’t budge no matter how hard I tried to force them open. My fingers started to respond sluggishly, but he must not have noticed under the sheet.

  I felt the rush of air as he uncovered the top half of my body, but I didn’t feel naked or dressed in scratchy Viking garb like in most of my dreams. “Let’s see what we have here…” he mumbled and I caught a whiff of minty gum as he bent down to brush my hair away from my neck with a slim, metal probe.

  The scent of gum quickly dispersed, overpowered by the rich tang of blood thrumming along under the skin. I’d never been able to do that before, smell the blood in a person’s body, and the heady aroma made my stomach convulse painfully. My eyes popped open and I drew in a gasp of air, my lips pulling back to reveal sharp fangs even as his face paled in shock and horror.

  Driven by sharp need, I buried my teeth into his throat, relishing the hot spurt of blood that filled my mouth and restored life to my limbs. I pulled him into my embrace, one hand holding him tight, the other muffling his cries of distress. The dream sharpened around me, my senses kicking into high gear as the blood restored me. I’d never felt such hunger, such a ravening need for the blood. It overruled every thought, every act, there was only the flow of his life force into mine. The man went slack in my grasp and still I drank, a slave to the burning thirst.

  And then it was over. The man slumped to the floor as I sat up, taking in the morgue with new eyes. This wasn’t the morgue at Shoreline Hospital. I’d never seen this room before. Testing my limbs, I felt stiff and sore all over, my legs in particular, feeling sluggish to respond. And that’s when it hit me.

  This was no dream at all.

  I wore the same dirty clothes I’d worn to Jakob’s apartment, the same torn camisole, the same grungy jeans stained with blood and smoke from the accident. I must have passed out at the scene from all the blood I’d given Rob and…

  Rob!

  I hopped off the stainless steel table, nearly landing on the guy I’d drained dry. “I’m sorry…” slipped out reflexively, trying not to think about what I’d done while in that half dead state. There would be time to regret my actions later, but for the moment all I could think about was Rob.

  Was he upstairs in one of the rooms in critical care? Was he out there somewhere trying to spring me from the morgue? All at once I remembered his faltering heartbeat, and I clutched at the table to keep the wave of dizziness from claiming me. Had Rob been brought into the morgue with me?

  He couldn’t be dead. I’d given him so much blood, I refused to believe it. He had to have healed, there wasn’t any other option.

  I grabbed the fallen clipboard, scanning the print out from the EMTs. There I was, identified as Anja Evans (damn, my parents were going to have a cow when they got a call about that) dead on arrival, preliminary cause of death – traumatic blood loss. And on the next page… male John Doe, Caucasian, hazel eyes, brown hair, five foot eleven inches, dead on arrival, preliminary cause of death – traumatic blood loss.

  My vision swam as tears pricked behind them. Rob couldn’t be dead. I wouldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. Almost tripping over the morgue attendant again with my sluggish legs, I stumbled to the two other tables in the room that held bodies on them. Ripping the covers off fast like a Band-aid, I steeled myself for the worst, nodding to myself in relief when neither of the bodies were his.

  That left the freezer, and I started at one end, methodically working my way through the ten doors until I found him on the fourth try. A broken cry escaped me as he slid into view. “No…” slipped out, my hands shaking as I touched his cold, pallid cheek. He couldn’t be dead. The wound at his neck was crusted over, but healed. Despite the pale skin, his lips were still a ruddy color, not blue from the cold like some of the other corpses.

  “You can’t die,” I whispered, feeling the rasp of stubble under my hand as my eyes blurred with tears. “I need you.”

  Thump.

  I almost missed it, the sound covered by my snuffling, but I felt it right enough. The single heartbeat, much too slow to be a sign of life, and I froze in place, half convinced I’d imagined it.

  “Rob?” I sniffed, checking him for any possible proof of life, but he lay there completely unmoving, unbreathing… utterly still.

  Until he sucked in a great, gasping breath, his eyes flying wide with panic.

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  Read on for a special preview of Lisa Olsen’s novel, Angel of Mercy, available now!

  Books by Lisa Olsen:

  The Touch

  Pretty Witches All in a Row

  Moonsong

  Nine Steps to Sara

  The Company Series:

  The Company of Shadows

  The Company of Darkness (Spring 2014)

  The Fallen Series:

  Angel of Mercy

  Mercy for the Wicked

  Mercy for the Damned

  Child of Mercy

  Mercy for the Fallen

  Forged Bloodlines Series:

  Wake Me When the Sun Goes Down

  Meet Me When the Sun Goes Down

  Find Me When the Sun Goes Down

  Miss Me When the Sun Goes Down

  Follow Me When the Sun Goes Down

  Hear Me When the Sun Goes Down

  Release Me When the Sun Goes Down (May 2014)

  The Vampire Diaries:

  Tabula Rasa

  For more information, visit the author’s website at http://www.lisaolsen.net

  or her author page on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/lisaolsen

  You can also visit her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/lisaolsenrobotbrain

  Angel of Mercy

  Have you ever been in so much pain it ceases to have any meaning? So much pain you can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t even scream? So much pain your brain applies a filter to it, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to survive it with your min
d intact? Cast adrift on an ocean of pain, my body tossed and turned helplessly, buffeted by forces beyond my control. It sounds almost poetic, doesn’t it? But at the time I prayed for death, anything to ease that white hot agony.

  I wish I could say there was a bright white light waiting for me at the end of a glowing tunnel. In reality, I was so focused on the misery, there could’ve been a three ring circus around me and I wouldn’t have noticed. How long I hovered there I never knew, time ceased to have all meaning.

  But then something happened.

  A soft golden light wrapped around my body, and a feeling of warmth and comfort descended over me. At first I thought that was finally it. I was going to die, and I’m not gonna lie, there was a measure of relief in that realization. Relaxing, I basked in that warm glow, soaking it up like the summer sun after the chill of winter. Only instead of the pain fading away and being carried off into the great beyond it grew worse, something I hadn’t thought possible.

  I was still reeling from that new torture when the pain faded and disappeared so suddenly, I could feel the echo of it for long heartbeats after it was gone. Drawing in my first unlabored breath, my eyelids fluttered open, vision blurry in the uncertain light as I tried to focus.

  Dimly, my mind registered the fact that a man stood over me, his hands lightly pressed to my abdomen. Before I could open my mouth to ask who he was and why exactly he was touching me, he looked up and our eyes locked. Neither one of us spoke, though I did feel his hands pull away swiftly. The man stared down at me with an expression of surprise mingled with fascination, as though I was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen before. I have to say, he was pretty captivating as well.

  His eyes were the most vivid shade of blue - the kind you only see in magazine ads for contact lenses or on movie stars. They practically glowed in the muted light, and a golden nimbus surrounded him, flickering and crackling like a bug zapper. My lips parted to speak, but a wave of dizziness washed over me, making the room dip and sway. I swear my eyes only closed for a second, and when I opened them again, he was gone. Puzzling over whether or not any of it was real, I sank back into sweet oblivion, my sleep restful and devoid of pain.

  *

  The next thing I became aware of was the horrible taste in my mouth, like I’d been giving my cat, Mimsy, a tongue bath (not something I’m into by the way, blecch). Speaking of tongues, mine felt thick and clumsy, and it was difficult to swallow. Automatically, my hand shot out for the water bottle I keep on the bedside table, but it came up empty, instead smacking against something hard and metallic. I tentatively cracked an eye open, brows knitting together as it sank into my mental fog - I wasn’t in my bedroom.

  In fact, I wasn’t at home at all.

  “Wha…?” The trappings of a hospital room were unmistakable, even without the equipment. The automatic bed was a dead giveaway, let alone the IV sticking out of my arm. The nurse call button was nowhere in sight, nor was there any sign of activity in the darkened room. I was in the hospital, I just had no idea why or how I’d gotten there.

  Automatically my mind started to go over what I did know. My name is Merceline Renault, though everybody calls me Mercy (except for my mother). I worked at a nightclub named Eden in Seattle as a bartender. Not the most glamorous job, but I liked having my days free. Plus, it was fast paced, the club played great music, and the tips were fantastic on the weekends. Satisfied that I seemed to remember my phone number, my ABC’s and more than I cared to admit of the lyrics to every musical ever made, I turned my attention back to my surroundings.

  “Hello?” I called out, but it made little more than a croak from my parched throat. The monitor by my side beeped softly and I squinted at the display, noting the steady climb in my pulse. 110, 119, 127, 134… That couldn’t be good…

  A harried nurse came in, eyes on the equipment and completely ignoring me, frowning as she caught sight of the display.

  “Hey…” My voice was stronger, but I still sounded like the crypt keeper version of my normal speaking voice.

  “Sweet Jesus!” The nurse jumped, clearly not expecting me to be awake even though the monitors were going crazy. “When did you wake up?” she blinked. Her hair was the bright ginger of a natural redhead. A color I had tried and failed to duplicate over the years before deciding to accept my own deep, chestnut tresses. She looked even paler than me, which was hard to do. My devotion to sunscreen was legendary, even in the overcast Seattle weather, but at least I’d been spared the freckles covering her exposed skin.

  I jumped because she jumped, and the monitor beeped its annoyance over the corresponding rise in my pulse. My hand rose instinctively to my chest, pulling at the IV sticking out of my wrist, and the air sucked through my teeth at the sting. “Have some water?” I gave her a pleading look, unable to phrase the request any more eloquently with the burning in my throat.

  “Oh… yes, I’ll be right back.” Right back turned out to be a relative term as it was easily a few minutes before she returned, a small plastic cup of ice chips in hand. “I can give you one teaspoon of ice chips right now, but you’ll have to wait for the doctor before anything else.” A rueful smile was given along with the spoonful of ice.

  I savored the cooling relief as the ice rapidly melted, swallowing easier. “Thank you,” I smiled, grateful to hear my voice start to sound a little stronger, more like myself.

  “You’re welcome.” The nurse smiled back, picking up her touchpad, fingers flying over the surface to enter my vital statistics. “I’m sorry if I scared you before. We weren’t expecting you to wake up for quite some time.”

  “S’okay.” I waved off her concern. “I wasn’t expecting to wake up here at all,” I admitted.

  “I’ve put in a request to let Dr. Michaelson know you’re awake though, and she should be in fairly soon to check up on you. In the meantime, how are you feeling? Any dizziness or nausea?”

  She said that like I was supposed to know who Dr. Michaelson was, but I decided to nod and smile, not wanting to admit that bit of ignorance. Instead, I gave a longing look toward the plastic cup of ice chips. Somehow I had the feeling even though she seemed friendly enough, the nurse wouldn’t be likely to break her own rules right after she finished explaining them.

  “Um no, not dizziness exactly, just a little out of it I guess.” A bit of an understatement – I felt like I’d been woken up after a double shift at the club with only a few hours of sleep.

  “Good, that’s good.” The nurse nodded absently, setting down the pad to take my blood pressure next. “Try to be still and breathe regularly.”

  Did I look like I’d been about to jump up and do the Macarena? Lying there obediently, I began to notice a pale, dusky rose aura surrounding her, standing out in the dim lighting. At least, it’s what I always thought an aura would look like, I’d never seen one before. At first I chalked it up to tired eyes, but after a surreptitious rub I wasn’t so sure.

  “Your blood pressure looks good, what about your pain level? How would you rate it on a scale of one to ten?” she asked.

  It took me a minute to realize she’d asked a question. I was too distracted by the pretty color, trying to see if it looked any different if I closed one eye or the other, or if blinking had any effect. Even then it took some thought to process what she said. Should I be in pain? Shifting in the bed, I felt tired and sore, but nothing horrible. “It’s not too bad, maybe a one or two. Where am I?” It was turn for some questions of my own.

  The nurse nodded again and entered the data into her pad. “The ICU of Northwest Hospital,” she answered readily.

  My brows climbed at the mention of the Intensive Care Unit. Just how bad off was I? “How long have I been here?”

  “A few days. You were brought in on Saturday night and went into emergency surgery.” The nurse’s face grew sympathetic as if she pitied me for the gaps in my memory.

  “A few days? What day is it now? Wait, what kind of surgery?” All at once a dozen questi
ons leapt to mind, each clamoring to be answered.

  The nurse’s expression grew shuttered, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. “You know… I should really let the doctor come and talk to you.” A step was taken towards the door.

  “Wait…” Desperately my eyes scanned the nurse’s scrubs for a nametag and spied the badge hanging around her neck. “Rachel…” I tried a friendly smile. “I can appreciate you’re not supposed to discuss my medical condition, but you’ve got to cut me a break here, okay? The last thing I remember, I was at work Saturday night and the next thing I know I’m in the ICU with tubes hanging out of my arm and up my nose.”

  Indecision warred on Rachel’s features, and she hovered indecisively at the bedside. “That’s really all you remember?”

  Now I felt bad for making it sound like I was an amnesia case. “I remember who I am and all that good stuff,” I admitted readily. “I remember stepping out into the alley behind the club. It was my turn to take out the garbage and there was…” My focus shifted as it started to come back to me, eyes staring off into space as I pictured it. I remembered the scuffle between the two men, one of them had a knife. He’d been pounding on the man in the long, brown coat who hadn’t defended himself at all. He just stood there, a dazed expression on his face, even when the knife plunged into his side.

  “He stabbed him…” I murmured, my face twisting with empathy as I saw it again in my mind. “And I screamed… I threw the garbage can at him to make him stop, but he batted it aside. He…” I swallowed as I remembered him stalking towards me, the bloodied knife glinting in the poor light. He must have attacked me then, though I didn’t remember it specifically or any of the pain. “I’m a little fuzzy on the details after that. Who brought me in, do you know?”

  Rachel picked up the datapad, paging through the records. “Let’s see, you came in via ambulance, transported from… Second Avenue and South Washington Street, is that where you work?”