by I. T. Lucas
He nodded.
“What name is she using now?” Bridget asked.
“She is back to Calypso. Calypso Meyers, that’s her maiden name.”
“Is that the name on the driver’s license she is using?”
Damnation. He wasn’t sure. She’d registered her car under Heather Wilson, and Brundar doubted she’d had time to transfer ownership to Calypso Meyers. She might’ve been using the fake driver’s license.
“Let me check with Roni. He was the one who found out where she was.”
Since he didn’t have the kid’s number, Brundar texted William his question.
The answer came a few moments later. Calypso Meyers.
“It’s Calypso. Let’s go.”
“Does she have medical insurance?”
“Yes.” Franco had all of his employees covered even before it became mandatory, including the part-timers.
They walked over to the reception, where Brundar didn’t waste time with niceties, taking over the receptionist’s mind right away. “I’m looking for my wife. Calypso Meyers. She was admitted about an hour ago.”
Eyes glazed over, the woman nodded and typed the name into the computer.
Brundar had used brute force, too much for such a simple task, but he wasn’t in the right frame of mind for delicate probing. Bridget remained silent beside him, but he sensed no disapproval from her.
The woman gave them Calypso’s room number, together with two visitor passes to clip on their shirts.
“She is not in the emergency room, which is a good sign,” Bridget said as they entered the elevator. “If her injuries were severe, they would have kept her there for observation.”
On the fifth floor, they passed the nurses’ station and went straight into Calypso’s room.
They found her sleeping, her mouth slightly agape and drooling.
Brundar winced. Calypso’s face hadn’t had time to recover from the previous abuse she’d suffered, and now it was covered in new bruises and shallow cuts. Her left arm was in a cast and her forehead was bandaged, probably hiding a bigger gash.
Bridget walked in and opened the chart.
“She was given mild pain medication, that’s all. The arm was reset without an operation.” As Bridget kept reading, her eyebrows dipped in a frown. “She is scheduled for a CT scan. Apparently, she fell asleep or blacked out while driving.” The doctor cast him an accusing sidelong glance. “Did you keep her up all night long?”
“She had an adequate number of sleeping hours for a human,” he said quietly. “There was no reason for her to fall asleep at the wheel. Something must be wrong.”
“I agree. We should take her to the clinic.”
“Why?”
“She might be transitioning,” Bridget whispered.
Brundar shook his head. “She is not a Dormant. Quit thinking of her as one. Focus on finding what’s wrong instead.”
Lately, Bridget had been dealing almost exclusively with transitioning Dormants. No wonder that was the direction her mind went for answers. But unfortunately, in Calypso’s case, there had to be some human biological malfunction that had caused her to black out.
“I can do both at the clinic. But if she is transitioning, it is imperative that we take her out of here.”
“And how do you suggest we do it?”
“One of us carries her out while the other thralls the staff and has one of the doctors write her a release.”
“What about Kian?” It was the middle of the day, and there was no way they could sneak Calypso into the clinic without anyone noticing. Besides, with Tessa there, people would be coming to visit the girl, and it would be impossible to hide the extra patient in the room next to her.
“I have the authority to override him when it comes to medical emergencies. This certainly qualifies as one.”
“What emergency?” Calypso startled them both.
Brundar sat on the bed next to her and took her uninjured hand. “Your accident, sweetling. How are you feeling?”
“Like I was hit by a truck, which I was.”
“How did it happen?”
Calypso tilted her head to look at Bridget. “Hi, it’s so nice of you to come, but it looks worse than it is. They need to run some more tests, but after that, they are going to let me go home tomorrow.”
Bridget came closer. “I know. I read your chart. Can you tell us what happened?” She repeated Brundar’s question.
Calypso touched her hand to the bandage on her forehead. “I don’t know. I remember closing my eyes while idling at a red light, twice. Both times people behind me honked, and when I opened my eyes the light was green. I thought they were impatient. But what if I had my eyes closed for longer than I thought I did? I must’ve done it again, this time not with the brake on, but I don’t remember anything. One moment I’m driving, the next one I’m on a stretcher and paramedics are hovering over me. They later told me that I ran a red light, just kept on driving. Lucky for me, the guy that hit me wasn’t going fast.”
A tear slid out of the corner of her eye. “My car is totaled, and so is the guy’s truck. We are both lucky to be alive.”
Brundar leaned over her and took her into his arms. “You’re okay, and the other guy is alive. Right?”
She sniffled and nodded.
“Then nothing else matters. Your injuries are mild, and you’ll be okay in no time. The car is just a piece of metal. It's replaceable.”
“I know, but I still feel like crap. Why is it happening to me? Why can’t I catch a break?” Calypso started sobbing openly.
Lost, Brundar cast a pleading glance at Bridget. Maybe as a female and a doctor she had the right words to soothe the crying woman in his arms? Because he sure as hell had no idea what to do.
Taking pity on him, or maybe on Calypso, Bridget said, “Would you feel better recuperating in my clinic? I have all the equipment needed to run tests and find out why you blacked out. It might be something as benign as dehydration, or a vicious virus.”
Calypso nodded. “I would love that. But I don’t think they are going to let me go without first running those tests the doctor ordered.”
“I can call the doctor in, and you can say that you want to be discharged. No one can keep you against your will. They’ll just have you sign papers releasing them from liability.”
“Should I?”
“Yes, you should.”
“Okay. But I don’t have anything to wear. I think they cut off my clothes.”
“I’ll get you something from the gift shop while Brundar deals with the doctor. Right, Brundar?”
“Right. I’ll go get him. Or is it her?” Brundar asked.
Bridget looked at the chart. “Her. Doctor Belinda Hernandez.”
“Got it.”
It took over an hour for all the paperwork to get filled in and signed, but in the end he didn’t even have to thrall anyone to get Calypso out of there. Doctor Hernandez wasn’t happy about it, but apparently, she had no choice. It was Calypso’s prerogative to release herself. They even provided an orderly with a wheelchair to take Calypso to Brundar’s car.
“I’ll drive,” Bridget volunteered. “You guys sit together in the back.”
“Thank you,” he and Calypso said at the same time.
“I need you to hold me,” Calypso whispered in his ear as he lifted her off the wheelchair and into the Escalade’s back seat.
“And I need to do the holding.”
Up front in the driver seat, Bridget sighed, and then mumbled quietly, “Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.”
Chapter 53: Callie
Callie opened her eyes to a dimly illuminated room. Was she in the hospital?
She had a hazy recollection of being taken to an ambulance, and another one of someone telling her that her arm was broken. She lifted her right arm, then the left. The left was much heavier—the one with the cast.
Had she dreamt about Brundar holding her? Taking her away?
But she
was still in a hospital room, so it must’ve been a dream. It had been daytime when she’d last closed her eyes. Apparently, night had fallen because it was dark in her room. Maybe someone closed the blinds.
Her head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton balls. Her thoughts couldn’t travel freely or connect. Bits and pieces were stuck in random places, not coalescing into something that made sense.
She must have hit her head pretty bad. Evidently, the airbag hadn’t deployed. Callie remembered hitting the steering wheel, not the impact itself—she’d blacked out before it had happened—but she remembered anticipating it.
As proof, her head was throbbing with pain. She reached with her uninjured arm and lightly touched her forehead, or rather the bandage covering it. Even that feather-light touch caused her to wince.
Callie closed her eyes and took in a shallow breath in case her ribs were broken too. It hurt a little. Her ribs were bruised but not broken.
Thank God. If the damage was limited to a broken arm and a cut on her forehead, she should count herself lucky.
It could've been worse.
In the adjacent bathroom, she heard the toilet flush, then the water run as whoever was using it washed their hands. Probably the patient in the next room with whom she was sharing the bathroom. Once that lady was done, Callie needed to use the facilities herself.
Should she call the nurse to help her?
Nah, first she would try without anyone’s aid. If that didn’t work, and she felt dizzy, she could then call for the nurse. Carefully, Callie pushed to a sitting position, waited for a moment to see if that was okay, then dropped her legs over the side of the bed.
So far, so good.
The question was whether she could stand.
The bathroom door opened, spilling light into the room, but the silhouette that appeared in that doorway was way too big to be a woman.
“What are you doing?” asked a familiar gruff voice.
“Brundar?”
He crossed the distance in two long strides, stopping in front of her and blocking her way. “Where do you think you are going?”
Why did he sound so agitated? Was she still dreaming? “The bathroom.”
“I’ll carry you.”
She was in his arms before she had a chance to object. “When did you get here?”
He looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. “I never left.”
Now that her eyes had got used to the sudden burst of light, she could see his features more clearly, but that didn’t help with her confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“What is the last thing you remember?”
“The doctor saying something about my arm being broken.”
Brundar frowned, his puzzled expression turning worried. “Let’s get you to the bathroom first, and then we will talk.”
“Okay.”
As he sat her down on the toilet, Callie took a look around. The bathroom looked familiar and yet strange at the same time. But the mystery would have to wait for later. First, she needed to empty her bladder.
“Can you turn around, please?”
When he did as she asked, Callie lifted the flaps of her hospital johnny, expecting to be naked under it, but someone had put panties on her.
Crap. Pushing them down with one hand proved to be much harder than she’d expected, but after some wiggling, she finally managed.
Putting them back, though, was a different story. “Um, Brundar? A little help, please?”
He turned around, crouched at her feet, and gently pulled her panties up. “Good?”
Callie smiled, reminded of how he used to ask her if she was okay every step of the way on her sexual journey of exploration. “Yeah. Though I think that maybe I shouldn't be wearing panties at all. It would make going to the bathroom easier.”
“Do you want me to take them off?”
“Maybe before you have to leave. When are the visiting hours over?” She pushed to her feet and turned to the sink to wash her hands.
“Visiting hours? There are no visiting hours. I can stay as long as I want to.”
“That’s nice. Most hospitals have rules about that. I think ten o'clock is the latest. Unless you’re the spouse, but we are not married.” She dried her hands with a paper towel.
“You’re not in the hospital, Calypso. You’re in Bridget’s clinic. Don’t you remember getting yourself discharged so you could come with us?”
Callie turned around and leaned against the vanity. “I don’t. Maybe, I don’t know. I’m so confused.” She had no reason to doubt him, which meant that her brain was playing tricks on her. “Maybe they gave me something at the hospital? Some drug that I had a reaction to?”
Brundar scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the bed. “I’m no expert. But I think that your brain couldn’t handle yet another trauma so soon after the last one, and decided to take a vacation. But I might be talking nonsense. We should consult Bridget.”
Actually, what he’d said made a lot of sense. During her previous short stay in Bridget’s clinic, Callie remembered the doctor telling her that she hadn’t fully internalized what had happened to her. Maybe it had finally caught up with her.
“What time is it?” she asked after he tucked the blanket around her.
“Early. It’s a little after five in the morning.”
“Crap, how long was I out? I thought it was still yesterday evening.”
Brundar sat on the bed next to her. “Bridget and I got you out of the hospital at around three in the afternoon, you fell asleep in the car, and I carried you here. You’ve been asleep ever since.”
“No wonder I’m so thirsty. Is there anything to drink here?”
“I’ll get you water.”
Her lips twisted in distaste. “I was thinking coffee. But I’ll start with water.”
“I’m not giving you anything other than that until Bridget approves it.” He went outside the room and a moment later returned with a paper cup filled with water.
“When is she coming in?” Callie let the water wet her dried out, cracked lips before gulping it down.
“I don’t expect her to be here before seven. She stayed late, taking your vitals several times until she was sure you’re fine.”
“I need to thank her.” She finished the cup and handed it to Brundar. “Could you get me another one?”
“Of course.”
Her eyelids felt heavy, and Callie let them drop as soon as Brundar had left the room to fill up her cup.
Just for a few seconds until he comes back.
Chapter 54: Brundar
When Brundar returned with the water Calypso had asked for, he found her sleeping again. Something wasn’t right, but all he could do was wait and worry until Bridget got there.
It had been her idea to put Calypso in the after surgery recovery room. With the OR and lab separating it from the front of the clinic, it was secluded and as far away from Tessa as possible.
Security was well aware of the visitor, but Bridget had told them to keep it quiet. Whether they’d informed Kian or not was anyone’s guess. But since the guy hadn’t called to chew Brundar or Bridget’s heads off, they probably hadn’t. It made sense that they had instructions not to bother him on his vacation unless it was an emergency.
In either case, it was important to keep Calypso hidden from the clan members, or rather the other way around.
Yesterday, with people coming to visit Tessa throughout the afternoon, Brundar had done his best to stay out of their way. Now, there was no one there except for Jackson, who refused to leave the girl’s side even for a moment.
In a way, Brundar envied the kid. Tessa wasn’t a secret stowaway like Calypso. Jackson’s friends and his mother had brought him a change of clothes and food and whatever else was needed.
Brundar had only Anandur and Bridget to help him out, which wasn’t much.
Anandur had stopped by last night, but he’d left early that morning for Hawaii. And Bridget h
ad her hands full with two patients. Besides, it wasn't her job to take care of him.
If Brundar wanted to eat, he had to slink out like a thief, get something from the vending machine upstairs, and then sneak back in without any of Tessa’s visitors seeing him, which wasn’t an easy feat given that they were all immortals.
At seven-thirty, Bridget walked into the recovery room. “Did she wake up at all?”
“She woke up early in the morning, used the bathroom, and had a drink of water. But when I went to refill her cup she fell asleep again. That’s a lot of sleeping even for a human.”
Bridget put a finger to her lips, shushing him. Calypso was sleeping, not unconscious, and he should watch what he said in front of her.
The doctor adjusted the lights in the room, making it a little brighter before checking on her patient.
“Brundar, come over here.” She motioned for him to get closer. “Look at the cuts on her cheeks. They are almost gone.”
Brundar hadn’t noticed before, but now that he was paying closer attention, he saw that not only were the cuts much less visible, but her bruises had faded too. Even the old ones. His gut flipped and twisted into a knot. Did it mean that she was transitioning? But Calypso wasn’t a Dormant.
“How is it possible?” he whispered.
Bridget patted his shoulder. “The Fates have smiled upon you, Brundar. Your woman is a Dormant, and she is transitioning. Offer them your thanks.”
He shook his head. “I don’t get it. Unless you count superb culinary skills, she has zero special abilities.”
“Affinity, my dear Brundar. You felt it, I felt it, your brother felt it. It’s the immediate connection we rarely feel for anyone outside our family. It doesn’t even have to be a liking. Fates know there are some clan members I can’t stand, but I still feel connected to them. Do you get what I’m trying to say?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not.” It wasn’t easy for him to talk about his shortcomings, but confiding in Bridget wasn’t like talking to just anyone. She was a doctor and therefore bound to keep it confidential. “My emotional intelligence is subpar. I don’t feel connected to anyone aside from my brother to an extent, and now to Calypso. Even my own mother feels like a mere acquaintance to me.”