Asanni

by J. F. Kaufmann

  Astrid mocked a sigh of relief. “At least I don’t need to be sacrificed on the sacred stone. It will be okay, I suppose. It could’ve been much worse. Seth, danger, hiding, my new life in Red Cliffs. I would be scared to go through all this alone. Now I know I can do it because I have you.” She sighed. “I should go to sleep, I’m working tomorrow.”

  “Come on, I’ll take you to your room,” Jack said softly and scooped her up.

  Astrid wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you sure you’ll be able to leave?” Her voice deepened, her eyes darkened. The wolf she’d been trying to keep inside raised her head.

  “You’re right, I’m not and neither are you,” he said and put her down. “I’ll wake you up in the morning. Six-thirty?”

  “About. Good night, Jack,” she said and walked toward the bathroom. Soon he could hear the shower. A few minutes later Astrid came out wrapped in her bathrobe, blew him a kiss from her bedroom door and stepped into her room.

  JACK’S EYES followed her blue contour. She took off the bathrobe and stretched. The outline of her body was perfectly clear, without the tiny blur that clothes would cause. She’d been naked under the bathrobe, and it didn’t seem like she was looking for pajamas to put on.

  Jack shook his head, smiling, and continued watching her. Astrid slid under the covers, stretched again and lazily ran her hands along her body.

  “Astrid, stop it this instant.” Jack said, laughing. “I see what you’re doing.”

  “I know.” Her warm, sensual voice reached him from across the room. “Sweet dreams, Jack,” she whispered and blew him another kiss.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Astrid

  JACK’S IMPACT on my life had been so great that I wasn’t able to get him out of my mind, not even for a second. I longed for his physical presence when we were separated. His scent lingered on my skin and on my clothes and his voice stayed stuck in my head like a song.

  As I prepared myself for the surgery, scrubbing my hands vigorously with antiseptic soap and hot water, I briefly wondered if my obsession with Jack would affect my work. But when I approached the operating table, I felt a familiar calm and concentration spreading inside my body and mind. My hands were steady and my mind crystal-clear and focused.

  Jack had become a part of my life, I realized suddenly, and pure joy swept over me. He brought happiness and balance to my existence, and made me feel complete like never before.

  WHEN WE finished—it had been a standard arthroscopic procedure to repair a medial meniscus tear on the left knee of a healthy thirty-two year old former athlete, and no complications were expected—I thanked my crew: two surgical nurses and Dr. Ahmed Demmir, an anesthesiologist I preferred working with. When I left the hospital, I would probably miss him more than anybody else.

  Back in my office, I completed the patient’s file and finished the paperwork before I went to see my other patients. Mrs. Fontaine was doing great and she would be released the next day. The young woman and her husband that had been injured on Friday evening in the accident were on the fast road to recovery. Their daughters were already with their relatives.

  One more surgery tomorrow and my career in Rosenthal’s General Hospital would be over.

  My phone rang. Jack, the display said and my heart instantly sped up.

  “Hey.”

  “Are you done?” His voice was soft, warm and sexy. I closed my eyes, wishing he could be with me.

  “One down, one more to go,” I said. “Jack, when are we going to the cabin?”

  AN HOUR’S drive from Rosenthal, the small log cabin was the place where I’d hide during my transformations. Deep into the mountains, on the edge of the dense forest, a remote and secure place, the cabin was far away from unexpected visitors. In spite of everything it was associated with—pain, darkness, discomfort, memory lapses—I liked that place. I liked the smell of its wooden structure, the pleasant semi-darkness inside of it, the rustic furniture, the almost absolute silence that surrounded it, the pitch darkness of the night, the forest at its back, dark green, cool, enchanted. The forest had been attracting me like a magnet. In a strange way it felt like home, and I’d always wanted to go deep into it. Unfortunately, I’d always been too weak, exhausted and miserable to do it. The forest had been the promise of an unknown freedom. It had been calling me and talking to me in its ancient language, and although I still couldn’t understand it, I guessed the meaning nonetheless.

  “By the end of the week,” he said. “What do you think?”

  “That’s fine. The full moon is on Sunday.” I lowered my voice to a soft whisper. “You’re gonna be alone with a big bad wolf. Aren’t you scared?”

  “Nah, I think I can handle her.”

  “Jack, before I forget. I’ve been invited to an exhibition tomorrow night. A local painter… Tristan and Liv are coming too. Here is your chance to meet the local elite before you leave. Do you have a suit here to wear? It’s a semi-formal occasion, with an emphasis on the formal part.”

  “Not really, but I can buy one. Any decent store here?”

  “I think there are one or two. Ask Tristan. I’ll need to buy a dress for myself. I’ll go tomorrow afternoon with Liv.”

  “When will you be done today?” Jack said.

  “At four. Will you pick me up?”

  Not so long ago, I’d fussed about it and refused to call him after my shift. Well, things had changed, apparently.

  “Sure. Supper will be ready, and a bubble bath... I miss you, Astrid,” Jack whispered, causing fluttery waves in my stomach.

  “I miss you too,” I whispered back. “I’ll see you later.”

  MY CASUAL ‘see you later’ ended up being literally true, though, and the relaxing bathtub and intimate dinner in my little kitchen had to be postponed.

  As soon as I finished talking to Jack, his soft voice still echoing in my ears, my desk phone rang. It was a long distance call.

  “Dr. Duplant?” an unknown voice asked.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Dr. Mahoney from the Children’s Hospital in Stanford. I’ve just spoken to your general manager, Dr. Blake. We need you here to operate on a seven year-old girl. A dog attacked her and smashed her right hand. Almost every single bone has been broken. We wanted to send our own chopper to bring you here, but Dr. Blake insisted on sending you with your own helicopter.”

  I bet he did. It’d be easier to send somebody with me if I went with our helicopter.

  “Sure. It will save us some time,” I said.

  “What will you need?”

  “I’m bringing our anesthesiologist with me, Dr. Demmir. Make the room ready. Do the usual prep. Have the patient history and the lab results accessible. I’ll go through her file on my way there. That will do. What’s her name?”

  I heard him clicking the mouse. “Kissakawa Norton. They call her Kissa. She turned seven last month.”

  “The dog?”

  “American Stratford Terrier. It was her dog.”

  “I’ll be on my way soon, Dr. Mahoney.”

  “Thank you Dr. Duplant. I’m relieved you’re coming. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

  The line disconnected. I exhaled deeply, wondering how Tristan was going to organize my trip. Who would go with me? Would he sneak Liv onto the helicopter? He couldn’t openly go, it would be too obvious. Well, I sighed, I would let him worry about that part.

  I looked through the window and saw Ahmed in the parking lot. My colleague appeared to be heading home. “Not so fast, Ahmed,” I whispered, eyes fixed on his back. “We haven’t finished yet. I need you back.”

  As if he’d heard me, he turned, lifted his head and gave me an inquiring look. What’s going on? his expression asked. I waved him back, simultaneously making a call. As I spoke, I could see him start to walk faster and faster, entering the hospital almost at a run.

  Tristan came to my office half an hour later. “Everything’s okay, Astrid,” he said, looking pleased with himself. �
�You and Demmir may go.”

  “Who’s coming with me?” I didn’t think it was necessary for anyone to escort me, but I knew better than to try to tell that to Tristan.

  “Everything’s under control. You’ll be safe.”

  Which probably meant Liv had already been smuggled onto the helicopter, and neither Demmir nor the pilot would know about our secret passenger.

  “I have to talk to Jack,” I said and reached for my phone.

  “I’ve spoken with him already. He knows you are going.”

  “And he’s okay with that? What did you tell him? How come he’s not already here, giving you grief about my safety?”

  “I assured him you would be safe.”

  I phoned him anyway. “Tristan told you what happened.”

  “Yes. You’ll be fine, don’t worry.” His voice was calm. How strange, I thought.

  “Make something we can reheat. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Those surgeries often last for hours.”

  “It’s okay, baby.”

  “Why don’t you look for that suit for tomorrow? If you want us to go. It’s really not that important.”

  “Of course we will go. Don’t worry about me, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Bye, Jack.” I hung up and stared bemused at the phone. “I’ve known him for a whole week now, and yet he still puzzles me.” I smirked and looked at Tristan for an answer. He just scratched his head and smiled, but didn’t offer any explanation regarding Jack’s cool reaction.

  “Give me a call me as soon as you’re done. If you aren’t too tired, come to our place tonight,” he said.

  “Leave my steak rare this time,” I said. “The change is near.”

  My phone buzzed. The Emergency Transportation Department informed me that the helicopter was ready.

  I knocked on Ahmed’s door, and soon both of us were on our way to the small helipad. The helicopter door was open, the blades rotating slowly. Ahmed got in first.

  I stopped in the middle of my step as the familiar scent reached my nostrils. Of course, who else did I expect to go with me? It was logical.

  “Welcome aboard, Dr. Duplant, Dr. Demmir. I’m Jack Canagan, your pilot. I’ll take you to Stanford and back.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  THEY FLEW back almost ten hours later. It had been a long, complex surgery. All five metacarpal bones and most of the phalanx had been broken, but luckily had not shattered. It would take some time to heal, but eventually all the functions of the hand would be restored.

  “Dr. Duplant, if you want, you may take the seat beside me.” Astrid heard Jack’s soft voice as if he whispered the words right into her ear. She glanced toward her colleague. He seemed to be asleep.

  Astrid unbuckled her seat belt and moved to the co-pilot seat. Her outstretched hand touched Jack’s upper arm and the warm stream rushed through her, instantly sweeping the tiredness away.

  “What have you been doing all these long hours?” Astrid said, her fingers still gripping Jack’s firm muscle.

  “Reading a book. Waiting for you to finish. Thinking about you...” Without taking his eyes from the invisible route in front of the helicopter, he leaned forward and kissed Astrid’s cheek. “I missed you.”

  Astrid pressed her head against his arm and breathed him in deeply.

  “How was it?” Jack said.

  “She’ll be fine. I waited until she woke up from the anesthesia. Dr. Demmir was fantastic, as always. There was a lot of damage, but she’ll recover completely. She’s only seven, Jack. Her bones are so delicate... She told me that her name, Kissakawa, means ‘sparkling snow’. And about her best friend Max, from school. She asked her mother to phone him to come to see her. Oh, God, the damn dog could’ve killed her if it’d aimed for her throat. The mother threw herself on it. She ended up with some serious muscle damage… They’ll both be fine.”

  Jack planted another kiss, this time on her temple. “Are you tired?”

  “I should be, but my adrenaline’s still running high. I’m so happy everything went smoothly.” I am happy, period, she thought and smiled, listening to the already familiar sound of Jack’s heart that echoed in her ear. Happy to have you.

  “YOUR STEAK, Princess. Rare, as requested,” Tristan said and placed the plate in front of Astrid. “Ours will need a few minutes more.”

  They sat in the Blakes’ dining room. It was almost midnight. Under normal circumstances and among more ordinary people it would be too late for a visit, but around the table sat four friends with different sleeping and eating habits.

  Werewolves’ metabolisms required little sleep. Jack could go days and days without taking even a nap. Astrid needed more because her wizard part asked for that, and she had occasional periods of sleeping spells before her monthly change. But usually her body was happy with just a few hours of rest.

  Tristan and Liv also didn’t need more than that. Like most of their kind, these two Tel-Urughs functioned perfectly well during daylight. Sunlight didn’t bother them much. Tristan had a condition that could be described as a mild form of photophobia—sensitivity to light—but nothing that sunglasses and light colored clothes couldn’t control. Livia, who was much older and therefore better adapted to human conditions, wasn’t affected by daylight at all.

  As for Livia’s age, nobody knew how old she was, with the possible exception of her husband. From time to time, she would offhandedly mention names well-known from history books: her dear friend Catherine de Medici, King Baldwin of Jerusalem, who hadn’t allowed her to cure him of leprosy, her close friend Gaius Julius Caesar. Astrid had rarely heard her talking about the time before Caesar’s Rome, but suspected Liv had existed long before she had helped her friend with the extensive reforms of Roman society and government. Once Astrid had asked Tristan about that, but he just smiled and shrugged. “In her own way, Liv is a bit self-conscious about her age, I suppose,” he’d said. “Besides, every woman is entitled to her little secrets.”

  Similar to wizards, Tel-Urugh also camouflaged their true identity by adopting common human habits. Tristan had been particularly scrupulous about it, resorting to their extraordinary abilities only when it was necessary. As a result, the Blakes were well adjusted to the human day-night rhythm, taking their short sleeping time in the wee hours of the night.

  By their nature, however, vampires were nocturnal creatures. For centuries and centuries, and for obvious reasons, their most important activity, feeding, had been during the night, and the burst of energy that followed made them anything but sleepy.

  Puncturing human arteries and drinking blood not only kept them alive and vigorous, but had a great effect on vampires’ libidos as well. “It’s similar to reading Louisa Burton’s Hidden Grotto novels, only better,” Livia had once said to Astrid, laughing.

  Humans didn’t suffer through the procedure, of course, unless they were unfortunate enough to come across a rogue. Induced into a dreamlike state, humans normally didn’t remember the experience on the conscious level. To them it seemed like the most beautiful, often erotic dream. There was no physical damage and they didn’t turn into vampires, at least not through feeding.

  A human could become a vampire or a werewolf, but that occurred only sporadically and when there was deliberate intention. As human blood was essential to vampires’ very existence, turning them into vampires would be neither practical nor ethical, as Liv had once explained. There was another reason to leave humans unchanged—reproduction. Tel-Urugh babies, although similar to every other species’ offspring until they reach adulthood, were very, very rare, partly because procreation among Tel-Urugh was extremely difficult and partly because many chose not to have children. Some of them did, though, and it always occurred more easily if one partner was half-blood or, even better, of another race. Humans had proved to be the best mating partners for Tel-Urughs.

  In spite of the great physical pleasure associated with one-on-one feeding, the Blakes, as well as many other modern-day Tel-Urughs,
opted for less satisfying yet handier ‘bottled food’ for their bi-weekly intake of blood. Tristan particularly opposed feeding from humans. He called it “a barbarous practice that should be prohibited by law”, primarily because, in the majority of cases, humans were not willing participants.

  Luckily, vampires needed only a small amount of blood. A few ounces were sufficient to sustain them between feedings. In the meantime, protein-rich food did just fine. Tristan and Liv had their favorite food and their dislikes, same as everybody else. Livia loved Italian cuisine and enjoyed fine Central European cakes and pastries. Tristan, with his refined taste, preferred French cooking above any other.

  That evening, however, T-bone steak was a perfect solution. Astrid sat beside Jack. Their bodies touched as much as table manners allowed. She smiled to herself, remembering how she had insisted on being seated away from him the last time they sat there. Their hands met discretely yet frequently. Under the table Jack’s leg brushed over hers every once in a while, sending warm ripples throughout their bodies. It was a wise idea not to go home immediately, Astrid thought, because I’m not sure how our night would end up...

  Astrid could sense the latent presence of her wolf, not only under her skin and in her blood, but with her conscious mind as well. She was trying to come out, answering Jack’s physical presence, but she seemed willing to retreat whenever Astrid pushed her back. “I love him too,” she murmured as she followed Liv into the kitchen to help her with dessert. “You must not be impatient, you have to help me, remember?”

  “Who’s impatient, darling?” Livia said.

  “My wolf. She’s been trying to come out since Jack came. That’s okay, I can understand that, but I don’t want her to complicate things even more... Oh, Liv, listen to me. You’ve just caught me talking to myself.” She uttered a dry laugh. “Two Astrids in one body. Crazy, huh?”