My mouth gaped open. “But I saw the purple stuff floating around in her IV bag. It was the same geometric pattern we saw Kalina pull out of Briggs.”
The nurse pulled a fresh sheet out from the metal cabinet and draped it over Tiffany’s body. Dr. Rattanakosin instructed an orderly to move the corpse to the morgue.
I raised my voice. “What are you doing? You’re destroying evidence.” I stopped the bed from leaving the room. “This is a crime scene now! You haven’t even taken any pictures.”
Everyone in the room gawked at me, making me feel as though I were the one who had committed the crime.
I pointed at Tiffany’s disintegrating body. “I know what I saw. She was fine until Kalina stood behind her. I’m so not buying this. What gives?” My finger changed direction and pointed accusatorily at Kalina. “Who the hell are you, and why did you kill that innocent girl?”
Briggs’ sister stood taller and straightened her blouse. “I am Kalina. A direct descendant of Kali. You would be wise not to cross me, vampyre.” Her East Indian accent gave her threat a particular appeal, but her words were poison. “It is true. I used her to save my brother.”
Everyone in the room stared at Kalina, echoing my shock.
“You had no right to kill her.” I moved forward to bitch slap the smug grin off her face, but Khaldon jerked my arm back.
Trespassing deep into my personal comfort zone, Kalina coolly took a step forward and stood directly in front of me. Toe to toe. “I saved my brother’s life.”
Khaldon’s hands held me steady.
She tilted her chin up and loomed over me. “Kali had every right. She must have a life to save a life. Tiffany was the most insignificant being here, and Kali chose her. You should thank me for sparing your life, vampyre.” Kalina popped the letter “p” in vampyre as a disgusted sneer dripped from her lips.
A million ways to slam this skank to the floor flew through my mind, but I wasn’t stupid either. I’d heard about how gods and goddesses were never to be called upon unless you offered a sacrifice. Horrible things could happen to you if you didn’t. One would not ask for Kali to cleanse your home after you bought it. To Kali, a home cleansing meant sending a tornado and razing it to the ground.
I bit my lip to stave off any further outbreaks and eased my arm down. Khaldon stood close beside me.
Kalina cocked an eyebrow at me as if to say, “I win,” and she turned to sit by her brother’s side.
I walked away disgusted and leaned against the window frame. I couldn’t handle the self-righteous attitude. “We need to call the police. She confessed to her murder. Everyone in this room heard it.”
Dr. Rattanakosin addressed us. “Stand down, everyone. The proper authorities have been notified. It will all be handled within the standard supernatural protocols.”
I returned a cocky eyebrow to Miss Holier-Than-Thou, and she didn’t even flinch.
Harris sat down next to Tiffany’s body and pounded the bed next to her. “I promised her I would help her parents. She was going to be okay, right?” Harris shook with his words. “She went through hell. She deserved better than this.” Genuine tears ran down his cheeks. “All those people do. We can’t let those jerks kidnap and kill innocent kids like that! We’ve got to locate this blood-orchard torture factory and put a stop to it, right?”
My stomach lurched at the possibility of going back to that island. “Wait. Why do we have to do this? Isn’t there some kind of supernatural governing body or police we can call? Why do we have to risk our own lives again? Can’t we report this place?”
“Absolutely. We need to expose it, we must tell the International Council,” Harris said. He stood up, a little wobbly on his legs. “I don’t know who or what’s ultimately profiting from it, but we can’t allow this inhumanity to continue.”
“We were tipped off this was going on,” Khaldon said. “Remember the evil sect of werewolves who were trafficking humans inside ExsanguiNation?”
“Wait a gawddamn minute. Are you saying that my people are doing this? To work for vampires?” Harris hissed the word as though it was a vile, nasty taste in his mouth. I’d never seen him this upset before.
“Harris, you even said yourself there were bad wolves moving through Florida.” I touched his arm. “He’s right, H. We talked about what was happening in the game on various sims. Remember when—”
“I know, dammit.” He cut me off sharply and shook his head.
“Hey, I don’t mean it was you or your pack.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed. “But it’s conceivable there could be supes working together for blood profit.”
His face creased causing leaks to spill out from the bloated sacks. “You’re right. I’m just … just kinda on pins and needles right now.” He slumped his shoulders.
I plucked several tissues from the table and blotted the drips before they ran into his eyes. “Stop doing that—you’ll make your swelling worse. Sit back so I can clean you up.”
Harris sat further back in his chair and looked up toward the ceiling avoiding my gaze. “I know you didn’t mean it that way, Chey. We should check the game’s database to learn if there’s any kind of reference to this blood orchard.”
Khaldon said, “We might be able to find out who’s running it. I’m sure we can track the orders if they’ve been purchasing through the game platform.”
Kalina shot a curious glance toward Khaldon.
A nurse approached with a tray of brownish looking slugs. “Okay, Mr. Archer, we finally located the leeches that thrive on the wolfsbane. Let’s try to bring down that swelling off your face.”
“Leeches?” I raised my hand to my mouth, miserably failing to hide my revulsion. “Seriously? What is this, the 1700s? What’s next? Bloodletting?”
“We don’t use the word bloodletting any longer, Cheyenne.” Khaldon sat down at the head of Torchy’s bed. “It’s called exsanguinating.”
I started to question him further, but an orderly poked his head into our room. “There’s an emergency phone call for a Cheyenne O’Cuinn. Anybody here by that name?”
I pointed at Khaldon, gesturing to Kalina. “Please don’t take your eyes off her.”
Kalina rolled her eyes as though she were a bored, eighth grade bully.
I stepped out of our hospital room and was directed to an ancient phone at the nurses’ station. The cord must have stretched over a hundred feet as it twisted and turned its circular curly-Qs into a tangled mess.
In the corner, the TV droned on with the political wars escalating between North Korea and China. China was ready to advance forces on the small country because its military leaders had threatened to test an EMP not too far from the coastline.
Children played with wooden blocks while row upon row of patients wore surgical masks to keep from catching other contagious ailments in this place. One child in particular was obviously not human since he had gills on the side of his neck. One side much more green and swollen than the other. He had a terrible cough and his mother’s face grew more concerned by the minute.
I heard the phone ring and make the connection. “Hello, this is Cheyenne O’Cuinn.”
“Cheyenne! Oh, thank the heavens I’ve found you.” My father’s panicked voice burst over the line.
“Daddy? Is everything all right? How—how did you know I was here? Why didn’t you call my cell phone?”
“Calls are goin’ straight to yer voicemail. Never mind that. Yer sister is being taken to the hospital. She’s in severe pain. She’s been haverin’ on in the worst way not long after you left. When are you coming home? Are you able to leave now?”
I took a deep breath and bit back the bitter words I needed to say. I opted for a small fib to buy us time. “We can probably fly home pretty quick, Daddy. Is she in labor? Are the babies okay?”
“I’m not sure. Yer mum never had this kind of pain when she birthed you three. I’ve got the screaming abdabs from all this, luv.”
“We’
ll be there as fast as we can. Are you at Orlando Hospital?”
“Right.”
“Have you called Dr. Meyer? He’s Sheridan’s OB-GYN specialist. His number is programmed into her phone. If we don’t make it back in time, he’ll know exactly what to do with the babies and how best to take care of Sheridan.”
“Right.”
“Just breathe, Daddy. Tell Sheridan I love her. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
“Have you heard anything about Dakota?”
Of course … the question I dreaded the most.
Pressing a thumb into my right eye socket, up under the eyebrow, I tried to stave off the never-ending headache.
My fingers reached for a stray piece of paper to crumble. Licking my lips, I hesitated. I considered faking a lost telephone line connection. I pulled my hand back.
I can’t lie to my dad.
Do I tell my father how I watched my baby sister blow up into a million silver shrapnel pieces to kill me?
“Yeah, Daddy … about that.”
“Cheyenne, call me back on my mobile if you can. The paramedics are here. I need to go tend to yer sister. Come home as soon as you can.” And with that he had hung up the phone.
“Okay. Gráim thú. Love you.” I spoke to the handset as I replaced it onto its cradle hanging on the yellowing wall.
An out-of-place song filled the waiting room speakers. It was only then I realized the Muzak version of “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails had been playing the whole time I was on the phone. Even more surreal was to watch people of all ages tapping their feet to the beat.
Returning to our room, I found Harris laid out on a bed with doctors and nurses surrounding him.
“No. No! No! What’s going on?” I ran to his bedside. If he was lying in a puddle of purple goo, I would kill Kalina with my bare hands.
Khaldon’s fists were white as marble as he held onto the side of the bed rails.
His eyes met mine. “It’s all right, Cheyenne.” Khaldon spun on his heels and stopped me. “Well, not all right. He’s having an allergic reaction to the wolfsbane antidote.”
I dashed over as Dr. Rattanakosin injected an EpiPen into him. Harris’ face was as bloated as the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.
“Obviously, your seventeenth-century leeches didn’t help. Is he going into anaphylactic shock?” I watched, helpless as his tongue swelled and his skin took on a pallor of ashen gray. “Is there a different remedy we can give him?”
“We don’t have any other medicines here. The leeches are helping remove the swelling from his face. They have nothing to do with the allergy treatment.” Dr. Rattanakosin said. “We need to put him on a ventilator, or we’re going to have to perform another tracheotomy.”
“A ventilator? Won’t you have to induce a coma?” I asked, stepping closer to Harris’ head. “Hang in there, buddy. Just relax.” He clutched onto the oxygen mask as strong as the leeches clutched onto his skin. “Breathe as deep as you can. We’re here, and everything will be just peaches soon. You hearing me?”
His golden eyes tried to open wide while he held on to me. His irises were ringed in black as he appeared to be turning into his werewolf form. “Harris, don’t, buddy. Stay in control. You’re gonna be a lot harder to fix if you wolf out on us.” I grinned at him. “Don’t make me take you to the vet.”
“How b-big does Mr. Archer get when he morphs?” Dr. Rattanakosin’s lip quivered in a nervous twitch.
“Well, the last I saw—he was maybe eleven feet long from nose to tail.”
“Nurse, bring me propofol. We’re going to need it.” The doctor stepped toward the metal cabinet and took out padded restraints. He handed two of them to Khaldon. “Quick. Help me hold him. If he shifts, all our safety will be compromised. He’ll especially be a danger to himself.”
Blowing out a series of short breaths to gain control, I tried to relax when my eyes caught Khaldon’s. Glacier prickles ran up my spine and tap-danced at the base of my neck. I turned to find Kalina staring at me. I challenged her. “This better not be any more of your shite, Kalina. Are you responsible for this?”
She shrugged as if our new emergency was intensely annoying to her. “I had nothing to do with it.” She waved the back of her hand toward Harris. “But perhaps Kali should have chosen him instead.”
I lunged at her, willing to choke the ever livin’ hell out of her.
Khaldon held onto me while I jabbed a finger at her face. “One day, Kalina. One day, it’ll be me and you.”
She tilted her head accepting the challenge. “I look forward to it.”
“I will put you both in restraints and call security if you two can’t control yourselves.” Dr. Rattanakosin gestured to the heavy belts he held.
Giving Kalina one last warning look, I focused my energy back onto Harris again. I bent down close to his ear and whispered. “I love you, bro. We’re going to help you relax and sleep okay?” I slipped my hand into his. “I’m with you. Everything’s gonna be all right when you wake up. Hang in there. You’ll beat this.”
Harris squeezed me back and nodded as best he could.
I watched them tie him down, remembering how helpless I felt when I awoke blind and bound. I didn’t wish that on anyone. Well, maybe Kalina.
I’ve got to stay with him and let him know he’s safe. What am I going to do about Sheridan?
Another nurse hustled in and laid a tray with a white bottle next to Torchy’s bedside. She checked his IV lines and ran his vitals. She recorded the findings on her tablet and then left again.
We watched as the hospital staff intubated Harris for the respirator. Inducing his coma couldn’t have come at a better time. His hands elongated, sprouted fur, and long, black claws extended below where his fingernails normally were. The ventilator manually inflated his lungs and hummed with a whoosh-whoosh sound. His life support machine showed he was stable, and his face looked as peaceful as a puppy after a long day of tug-o-war.
“He needs special treatment for several more days,” the doctor said, standing back from the table. “He is not in any position to be discharged. We are sending him to the specialists at the poison control center in Bangkok.”
I rubbed my temples. This was too much. “Khaldon, I don’t know what to do. Daddy just called me, and he said they’re taking Sheridan to the emergency room. She may be going into premature labor.”
“Bloody hell, could this day get any worse?” Khaldon pulled on fistfuls of his hair close to his scalp.
I blew out puffed cheeks. “We need to stay here for Harris, but we’ve got to be there for Sheridan.”
As though on cue, Torchy sat up in a screaming fit. He clutched his stomach and threw up in the trashcan next to the bed. “Fire, me gut’s on fire.”
“What do you need, Torch? Water, ice, dry ice?”
Khaldon gave me side-glance while a smirk turned up the corner of his lips. “He needs an antacid. Albeit a boat load of antacid.”
“Is that supposed to be a joke or something?” I asked.
“I was waiting for that.” Dr. Rattanakosin opened the white bottle on the tray next to Torchy and measured a milky substance into a glass. “Here, help me get him sat up.”
Khaldon and I helped Torchy to sit. He was wobbly but stabilizing. He held his shaking hands out for the glass.
“Here, drink this. It will help keep the fire squelches down. It won’t douse the flames completely, but it will help control them.”
Torchy gulped the chalky liquid while it ran out the sides of the glass and down his cheeks. He held the glass out. “More,” he gasped. “I need more.”
“That’s enough for now. Give it a few minutes to work. Once you gave up your adrenaline, your system didn’t have as much to burn. Now, we must treat your stomach ulcers and other maladies until you can chemically modify your system and build up your stores again.”
“Wait. You knew about this, and you didn’t tell him?” I clenched my fists on my hips again totally getting tired
of how much Dr. Rattanakosin didn’t communicate to us.
“If I had told you, would it have made any difference? Were you going to just let your friend die?” The doctor studied me through with his ancient Coke bottle glasses. His eyes questioned me as if I were a tiny bug under his microscope lens.
“No. Of course not. But we could’ve found another donor. Like his father.” I stared at Kalina and her eyes met my glare. “Or sister.”
Khaldon slapped Torchy’s back. “Mate, Sheridan is going into labor.”
Torchy’s face changed from utter pain to surprised worry in an instant. “Wait? Is she all right?” Torchy tried to get up off the bed but nearly fell to his knees. “The bairns? They’re two weeks early. We’ve got to get back to the States.”
“Whoa, there, big fella.” Khaldon held on to Torchy’s arm and helped him back up. “I guess I’m a wee bit weaker than I thought.” Torchy gained his balance and sat straighter. “Ya, wanker, you’re not leavin’ me here if Sheridan’s in trouble. We’ll need to fly home.” He wiped his face with a warm, wet towel the nurse provided him.
“But we can’t leave with Harris like this.” I pointed at Kalina. “What if Miss Life-For-a-Life over there decides Tiffany wasn’t enough, and she wants to take him out too? I don’t trust her.”
Khaldon grinned from ear to ear, and he snapped his fingers up beside his head. “We don’t have to leave him alone. I have trusted allies close by. They’ll come in and watch over him. Harris will be as safe with them here, maybe even safer.”
I studied Khaldon from the corner of my eyes as I stepped closer to Harris. “What do you mean?”
Khaldon turned and swiped open his phone. Moments later, he spoke in a language I couldn’t recognize. It wasn’t exactly Farsi, but it wasn’t Spanish either. Hell, for all I knew it could have been his native Egyptian or Latin.
Harris’ breathing was steady, his hands in loose fists. Even though he was unconscious, I tried to reassure him on some level that he wasn’t alone.
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