by Susan Illene
To think, I’d once believed all supernaturals were ruthless killers with no heart. I’d learned a lot since then, including good and bad people came with every race and group. You could only judge a person by their actions. I had a lot of respect for Paula. Not many people would take on this kind of responsibility and sacrifice so much of themselves to do it.
“I’ll take care of them,” I reassured her. “And if Kerbasi gives you any trouble just let me know.”
She gave me a weak smile. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
I walked into the bedroom and found two women and a young girl in it. The child lay on a twin bed and the adults on cots. Setting down all but one of the bags on a dresser by the wall, I went to the little girl first.
She was a troll and, like all of her kind, was on the small side. If anyone had seen her they wouldn’t have thought she was more than three years old, but my senses told me she was closer to eight. At the moment, she slept as a fever coursed through her. Someone had given her a good scrubbing so her pudgy nose and wrinkled forehead looked pink. The only visible signs of the plague were a swollen neck and armpits.
I changed out her IV bag and soaked a clean cloth to bathe her face with cool water, also smoothing down her bright yellow hair. She moaned. I caught sight of the razor-sharp teeth in her mouth. Oddly enough, the sight of them didn’t bother me like it might have at one time.
I finished bathing her and moved on to the adult women—another troll and a werewolf. They were insensible as well. It made my work easier and I was able to finish quickly. The next room held two werewolves, including Hunter’s father. His eyes were open and he stared up at the ceiling. There were black marks around his fingernails and a couple lumps under the covers where his lymph glands had swollen, but otherwise he looked better than the other patients.
“How are you doing?” I asked, bringing over a fresh IV bag.
“I’ve seen better days.”
His voice was still strong. That had to be a good sign.
“Does your son know you’re here?” And more importantly, could he be sick, too?
“No.” Rob turned his head toward me. “He’s been stayin’ up at the alpha’s house lately and I didn’t want to bother him.”
“You don’t think he’s…”
“Hunter’s fine as far as I know. Not that he talks to me all that much.” Rob grimaced and curled his hands into fists. I wasn’t sure if pain or frustration made him do it—or a little of both.
They’d seemed a little reserved around each other at Christmas dinner, but I hadn’t realized that father and son were on the outs. Had Hunter taken it more personally when his father sided with Derrick during the uprising? Neither he nor Emily had said anything.
“Are you not getting along?” I asked.
He let out an ironic chuckle. “I tried to keep him from his girl. What do you think?”
I tossed the empty IV bag into the trashcan after switching out the new one. A shelf in the room had fresh cloths, large bowls, and bottles of water. Like the previous room, there was also a receptacle to toss the used items when I finished. I grabbed one of the cloths and poured water over it.
“That was months ago. I didn’t realize he was still upset over that.”
“Hunter’s like his mother and can hold a grudge for a long time,” the werewolf replied.
Maybe it wasn’t my business, but I had to ask. “How did she die?”
All I knew was Hunter was young when it happened.
“Childbirth.” Rob closed his eyes. “There were complications. It took her and the baby.”
I rubbed the wet cloth I’d prepared over his forehead, but he pushed it away. “I’m fine. Just don’t tell my son I’m here. He don’t need to be worryin’ about me.”
“He’d want to know.”
“I don’t want this to be the reason he forgives me.” He took hold of my wrist and his eyes darkened. “Don’t tell him.”
I freed myself from his grasp. “Fine. I won’t—for now—but if you get near death he has a right to know.”
“It won’t come to that,” he swore. “The Maccormacs are known for their strength.”
My senses told me he believed it.
I moved on to the next guy, who’d slept through our conversation, and took care of him. By the time I finished washing his face, Yerik had popped up on my radar. He’d flashed into the living room.
From across the house, I overheard him updating Paula with the latest plague developments. It was spreading fast across American cities and even into other countries.
Chapter Nine
I joined the conversation in the foyer and found the daimoun yanking a pair of blue scrub pants over his bare legs. Once he had them on he removed his kilt and pulled the linen top over his head, covering his bare chest. The light blue color didn’t go with his complexion, but at least he didn’t look quite as much like a barbarian anymore. He even pulled his brown hair back after Paula handed him a hair tie.
“Any news on a cure?” I asked.
Yerik slipped on some booties the doctor gave him. “No, but a vampire healer in New York has begun using garlic oil. He’s found it slows the disease. I’ve brought some with me.”
He jutted his chin at a tote bag near his feet. I kneeled down and looked inside. He hadn’t brought the small bottles I’d seen in stores. These were five pint-size containers with no labels. My sense of smell wasn’t as sensitive as a werewolf’s, but the odor coming from them was nearly overpowering. Even with it sealed it burned my nose.
“You know they have this stuff in pill form, right?”
Which would have been a heck of a lot more tolerable.
“He swears the liquid form is more effective.” Yerik shrugged. “The patients must ingest several drops every eight hours and have the oil rubbed on their afflicted areas for greatest effect.”
I grimaced. Some of the sores on the patients were getting rather nasty and it’d be painful for them to be rubbed. Never mind asking them to swallow it.
“I appreciate that you’ve brought this,” Paula said, her tone reluctant, “but the supply you’ve brought won’t last more than a couple days—especially if more patients come in.”
He snapped on his gloves and took up a bottle. “I’ve got people buying out every supplier we can find and we’re raiding any farms that grow it. We’ll have more soon.”
“Are you sure that won’t draw attention?” I asked. A sudden garlic shortage was sure to hit the news.
He gave me a confident smile. “Didn’t you know? It appears there’s a white rot spreading around the garlic crops. My people are helpfully removing the afflicted plants for the farmers. As a result of the shortage, all the current supplies have run out.”
“Well, glad you’ve got that covered.” Ruthless, but effective.
“Of course.” He directed his attention to Paula. “Now point me to the most difficult patients and I’ll deal with them myself.”
Difficult patients?
Guilt filled her eyes. “They’re downstairs in the basement. I’ve got them strapped down.”
“Why?” I asked.
“They’re delirious and attempting to walk around—one even tried to leave. It seems to be an odd side effect of this particular strain. They’re not so much difficult as unaware of their surroundings. There’s no talking sense into them when they’re near the end.”
Which reminded me of Bambi’s husband, who seemed to be missing. “Where’s Tweety?”
She gave me a solemn look. “He passed away last night.”
My chest tightened. Trolls might not be my favorite creatures, but underneath their grime and bad manners they had their merits—especially in battle if they were on your side. I’d grown rather fond of Bambi, though I’d never admit it to her. The loss of her husband had to be devastating. She was always complaining about him in that way that showed she cared.
“How is Bambi handling it?”
“She’s still b
eing held in quarantine at a place outside of town. We gave her the news, but we couldn’t let her see him before we had to dispose of the body.” Paula sighed. “She’s not taking it well.”
“Do you think I could visit her?” I felt rather guilty I hadn’t checked on her sooner.
Paula gave me an apologetic look. “That wouldn’t be a good idea. I just received word she’s starting to develop signs of the plague. I’m going over after dark to verify it, but her grief has turned her violent. We can’t risk her biting you.”
That helpless feeling I’d experienced too many times since arriving in Fairbanks hit me. Once again, someone I cared about was in trouble and I couldn’t do anything for her. It was frustrating, but at the same time it made me that much more determined. The best way to help everyone involved was to do my damnedest to find a cure. And in the meantime, I’d get myself wrist-deep in garlic oil if that would make a difference.
I checked my watch. “We’ve still got almost an hour until more help arrives. We should start with the others.”
“Good idea.”
I gave her a brief smile and picked up a bottle of stinky garlic oil before heading toward my assigned patients. If nothing else, I could stay busy and do something that made a difference.
“Kerbasi,” I overheard Paula say as I moved down the hallway. “I need you to pour this oil into the bowls on the table so I can bathe the patients with it.”
“Have you fallen and hit your head?” he asked, incredulity in his voice. “I will not go near that vile stuff.”
I paused. “Bedpans, Kerbasi. Think bedpans.”
A moment of silence.
“Did you say pour it into those bowls?” he asked Paula.
“Yes, but be careful not to spill any.”
“I shall endeavor to do my best,” he replied, completely serious.
***
Derrick and two vampires had arrived before I finished with the women. One of them was my best friend, Aniya. It came as a surprise the alpha brought her, considering she’d been rather dull and lifeless since her mother died last spring. I wasn’t sure she’d make a very good nurse, but then again…maybe this was exactly what she needed.
I set my supplies down and headed out to the foyer.
“These two will be your volunteers for the night shift,” Derrick told Paula, nudging the vamps forward.
Aniya had her dark hair pulled back in a long ponytail and her olive complexion was free of make-up. Her expression was one of polite indifference—the usual for her lately. The other vampire was a young male with short blond hair. His real age was sixty, but he didn’t look a day over forty. A handsome forty.
He had dark eyes, a straight nose, and a broad set of shoulders. He glanced over at Aniya several times, but she didn’t seem to notice. I’d seen him around during Nik’s tenure as master vampire and recalled his name was Cage. Would this be the guy to bring her out of her funk?
“Oh, thank the Lord above,” Kerbasi said, coming to stand next to me. “Lesser beings have arrived to take over.”
I ground my heel into his foot until he winced. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. You didn’t even have to touch the patients.”
“Being near them was enough.” He edged away from me.
Paula took a few sets of the blue scrubs from the side table and held them out.
“Put these on,” she ordered the vamps and Derrick.
“I will, but I have some more supplies to bring in first. You can get them started in the meantime.”
“Of course, master.” She nodded. “Thank you.”
Derrick’s gaze moved over to me. He started to open his mouth, then shut it. Without a word he headed outside, leaving me to wonder what he was going to say. Oh well, it could wait until later.
“Can I speak to Aniya for a moment?” I asked Paula.
Her brows furrowed. “Of course, just don’t take long.”
“I won’t,” I reassured her.
I grabbed my friend and pulled her into the kitchen. “Are you up for this?”
“It’s what the master wants,” she replied, not meeting my eyes.
“Don’t give me that crap.” I moved into her line of sight. “You’ve got to pull yourself together.”
“What does it matter? I’m just doing what I have to.”
There was no sign of emotion in her eyes and nothing came up on my senses. It was as if she’d become an empty vessel. I’d never considered her particularly strong, but she hadn’t been like this after her father died when we were teenagers. Why had it hit her so much harder with her mother? Did losing Nik—the vampire who turned her—make things even worse? I needed to do something to shake her up and help her face her problems.
“What does it matter?” I asked. “These people are dying and they need your help. They need you to care. You have to quit thinking about yourself right now and think of them.”
“Okay.”
That was about the most unenthusiastic “okay” I’d ever heard.
“Really? Because at some point you need to realize you can’t do anything to change your mother’s death. She’s gone—forever.” I hated to be harsh, but I’d say whatever it took to get real emotion out of her again.
She swallowed. “I know.”
“Good, because you need to help these people. They still have a chance of being saved.”
“Lucky them,” she muttered.
Finally. She was feeling bitterness. I’d take that from her rather than nothing.
“They won’t be lucky if we don’t work hard to help them. They’ll die, too. Do you think that’s what your mother would want?” I gave her a moment to let it sink in. “If she was here she’d be pushing you to help, wouldn’t she?”
Slowly, Aniya nodded. “Yes, but I don’t know how of a much difference I can make.”
I took a deep breath and ran through my memories, searching for one that might help.
Got it.
“Remember that time back in eleventh grade when your mother made us go with her to visit a nursing home? We complained the whole way because we didn’t know them and didn’t see what difference it could make if we went.” I gripped her shoulders. “But then we got there and a lot of them were happy to see us.”
A hint of a smile touched her lips. “There was that one old man who thought it was Christmas and we were his daughters. Mom made us go along with it.”
“Exactly. Sometimes the greatest gift you can give people is compassion and hope.”
A sheen of tears filled her eyes. “Thanks, Melena. I promise I’ll do my best.”
After a brief hug Aniya left the kitchen, squeezing past Yerik on the way out. The daimoun stood in the doorway giving me an appraising look that set my teeth on edge.
“You might put Eli out of a job if you keep that up,” he said, referring to a nephilim who worked as a psychologist for the supernatural community.
“She’s my best friend. I’m supposed to be there for her.” Not that I had been doing a good job of it lately, but I was going to fix that now.
“True,” he agreed, then took a step closer. “I’ve been thinking over the cure. There’s something I need you to do if we are to make progress on that front.”
“What’s that?” I asked, both hopeful and worried he’d come to me.
“It appears no one can recall a specific cure for the last outbreak—among the immortals who lived back then. There is a chance Nik may know something. Do you have a way of finding him?”
I cursed myself for not thinking of the same thing. Nik had been around back then and he had the sensor journals that spanned thousands of years. They had to have recorded something.
“Yeah, actually, I do.” Josslyn had sent me a letter letting me know where she and Nik had gone. “I can’t go until morning but I’ll talk to him as soon as I can.”
Emily had to come first and it was clear I couldn’t leave her alone during the night. Since sunrise didn’t come until about ten in
the morning, though, I could head out early and still catch Nik before daylight. He wasn’t too far away. I was only sorry Aniya would have to stay here and couldn’t go with me. Seeing him might help her more, but there was no way I’d take her from Paula under the circumstances. That would have to wait.
“If you learn anything from him, let me know as soon as you get back,” Yerik said, turning away.
“It’s funny you find him useful now after trying to have him killed.” I couldn’t help replying as he walked away.
He stopped. “It wasn’t his death I sought, but his removal from leadership.”
“Nearly the same thing,” I pointed out.
“Melena, the past is the past. Can you not think of the future now?”
He had a point. I had months of anger built up and many imaginary conversations where I’d told him and Derrick all the things I thought of them. But it was over and past—nearly five months past. Maybe I needed to take the same advice I’d just given Aniya and move on. I’d stay on my guard, of course, but I needed to put my animosity aside in favor of getting through this latest crisis.
“Fine. I’ll give you a call as soon as I get back.”
His posture eased a fraction. “That would be appreciated.”
Chapter Ten
I pounded on Emily’s door.
“Are you up?”
It was just past six in the morning and I had to make sure she was awake before I left. A friend would be taking her to school.
“Go away,” came a muffled reply.
“Kerbasi’s out here and getting impatient. Do I need to send him in?” I’d used that threat a time or two before.
There was a thump, followed by a pattering of bare feet across the wood floor of her room. Emily pulled the door open about six inches. Her brown hair was in tangles and she wore a pair of boxer shorts with a loose white t-shirt.
“Don’t you dare!” She poked her head out into the hallway, searching for the threat in question.
“Then get up. I’ve got some toast and orange juice for you downstairs.”