Fang Hospital (Dr. Gabriella Van Court, Book 1)

by Tanya Goodwin

  “Gabriella,” he whispered.

  The cackle woke him. Max bolted upright in the bed. She wasn’t there. No one was there. Max glanced at the T.V. where Dracula had his victim by the neck. It was an old black and white movie, but he gasped at the bright red blood seeping from Dracula’s prey. He blinked. The weird colorized blood was now gray. Max clutched his temples. It was all a nightmare.

  ****

  Gabriella scurried down the corridor of call rooms. A maintenance man stood steadying a ladder leading to the ventilator entrance she had pushed through minutes ago. She stopped and asked, “What’s going on?”

  The man pointed upward. “We had to call Animal Control. The ICU nurses reported sounds like talons scraping against metal coming from the duct system. My bet is there’s a raccoon on the loose. But we’ll get him. These guys got their dart guns ready.”

  She fought the grin bubbling to escape onto her lips. “Good luck.”

  “Don’t you worry, Dr. Van Court. We’ve got this varmint cornered.”

  “Carry on.”

  She shook her head all the way to the call room where she hoped Max was still there waiting for her. “Silly mortals!”

  But there was one mortal she planned to corner.

  Gabriella dashed into the call room. Max sat in the bed clutching the sheets. Even in the dim room, his pallor rivaled hers. Someone had spooked him. That damn Marcus! K.L.’s clean-up clan better hurry. She scooted into the bed next to him and touched his cheek. His jaw was tight.

  “Max, what happened?”

  “Bad dream,” he answered. “Where have you been?”

  “I went to the lab, and then I spent some time visiting that man with the MI who got transferred to the ICU. While I was there, he went into an arrhythmia. They were about to call a code, but he spontaneously converted to sinus rhythm.”

  It was the diluted version of what really happened: scouring the hospital for Barbara, electro-converting the man with her touch, and chasing Barbara through the hospital ducts. But she couldn’t tell him that’s why she was late. Gabriella pressed Max to her chest and kissed the top of his head. “I’m so sorry I’ve kept you waiting.”

  His heart beat in tandem with hers. She raked her nails through his damp strands. The tight muscles in his neck and shoulders gave way in her embrace.

  “I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I was thinking the worst when you hadn’t showed up.” He looked up at her. “Between last night and tonight, I thought you might be involved with someone else. Frankly, I don’t want to know. You’re here right now. Let’s take advantage of the quiet, and have our own moment. I won’t hold you to anything else.”

  Her eyes tingled. But as a vampire, she couldn’t cry. She squeezed him tighter, heedful to not crush his bones.

  “Oh, Max. There is no one...but you.”

  Explaining her past men would not be possible without revealing herself.

  She kissed him long and deep, controlling her fangs in their retracted state. Her tongue lay warmed and leisurely upon his. The breath from his nose caressed her cheeks. No vampire nor mortal in 850 years had stirred her like Max. Her pelvis ached and wetness that had become a faint memory resurged in full bloom. It took her centuries to find this man. She would not let him go. Gabriella grabbed his arm and flipped him to his back. She pulled his gaze to hers, and locked it there. In her aroused state, she tore his scrubs off like tissue paper, and then ripped hers free. He lay naked, hard, and vulnerable beneath her, hers for the taking. She straddled him, enveloping him deep inside her. They moaned in synchrony.

  ****

  His heart did not expect what came next. It rocked in his chest with her every grind, harder and faster until it hammered so hard in his ears he heard no other sound in the room. The heat of his hardness collided with her coolness, the invigoration sending every nerve beneath his skin to attention. She arched her spine and flung her head back. It was balletic. His chest swelled in contentment at pleasuring her. She rose higher in response. Max’s mouth watered as the blush of her nipples, centered perfectly and pouty on her alabaster breasts, waved closer and closer to his lips. He parted his lips, ready to take her in. But before he could invite her erect pink buds into his mouth, Gabriella lunged at his neck. He exploded inside her at her bite. Her tongue circled his neck. As she lapped at him, he filled her until he had no more. She collapsed onto him. He stroked her silken hair and kissed the top of her head. Hands down, this was the best sex he had ever had!

  “I love you, Gabriella,” he whispered.

  “I love you, too,” she murmured.

  ****

  Gabriella draped her arm over her forehead. She winced. She couldn’t believe she had actually said those three words. Yes, she did love him. But this complicated everything. K.L. was right. Mortals and vampires shouldn’t intermix. Satisfying vampire libido was one thing; falling in love with your host was completely different. He did say he loved me. Men always say that in the throes of orgasm, mortal and vamp alike. It just slipped out!

  Max rolled to his side and propped his head in his hand. He tapped her on the nose. “Happy?”

  She restrained the urge to wrap her arms around him and yell, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” But she smiled and simply said, “Yes.”

  Gabriella stared into his eyes. But she no longer could transfix him. Could having sex with a mortal drain her of her magnetic powers? “Oh no!”

  Max knitted his brows. “Oh, no, what?”

  “Um...uh.” Gabriella pointed to the torn scrubs scattered across the floor. “I can’t believe we shredded hospital property.”

  “Whoa! So worth it, though.”

  He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her long and sweetly. This wasn’t the kiss of a one -night stand. She wanted to stay there, undisturbed, the whole night.

  “Stay here,” he said. Max wound a sheet around his waist. “I’ll make a run for it and get us clean scrubs.”

  She giggled as he comically waddled out the door. With Max gone, Gabriella glanced at her nails. She sighed with relief. They’d sprouted. At least something was working. She slid out of bed, grabbed her cardigan from the floor, and rummaged through the pockets. The flask containing her elixir survived the throws of passion. In her other pocket was what she needed before Max returned. She dumped the clippers into her palm and pattered into the bathroom. Fingernail after fingernail, she lopped off those pesky telltale talons. Hearing his breath in the hallway, she jumped back into bed, appearing nonchalant for his entry.

  Max skidded into the room, the wraparound sheet now skirting his hips. It begged to be ripped away. He tossed the maroon scrubs onto the bed.

  “Small for ma petite cherie.”

  Her mouth dropped. Ah! He spoke French!

  “And large for me.”

  Gabriella smiled widely and pulled off his sheet, marveling at his erection. “Maybe you need extra-large!”

  Max cocked his head and gaped at Gabriella’s parted lips. He clapped his hand to his mouth.

  He must have seen my fangs! Gabriella sucked back her incisors. The sight of his arousal had distracted her.

  He shook his head. “Boy, I’ve been watching too much T.V.”

  Max catapulted on top of her. He kissed her neck and gave it a nip.

  She laughed softly beneath him. Nice try!

  He pinned her arms over her head. “Laughing at a stiff man has its consequences.”

  “I’m willing to take the risk.”

  He was just ready to dive into her, when their beepers blared. The call room phone rang before either of them could check the message on their pagers. “Someone besides ourselves wants us badly.” He rolled away from Gabriella and answered the phone.

  “We’ll be there right away!” he said. He slammed the receiver down. “Shit. We got a trauma coming in. Some guy with a penetrating object in his chest. So much for a quiet Halloween.”

  Gabriella’s neck veins pulsed. Her powers had returned tenfold. She sniffed. A wounded vampire wa
s on the way to The Fang E.R., and it was serious.

  Chapter Nine

  Max and Gabriella scrambled into their scrubs and dashed into the bathroom. While washing their hands under the tap, Max glanced into the waste can. His blood-stained towel and swatches of tissue were gone. In their place were pieces of red curled nails. He examined Gabriella’s fingernails as she rinsed the soap from her hands. Her nails were physician regulation, natural and neatly squared. Must have come from someone else’s “companion”.

  They toweled their hands dry and cinched their scrub pants. Max left a bit more room in his, but there was nothing like a trauma to soften a stiffy. With both of them in doctor mode, they sprang from the call room and raced to the E.R. After donning body fluid resistant gowns over their scrubs, strapping on protective eye goggles, and snapping on surgical gloves, Gabriella and Max waited with the rest of the trauma crew for their patient to arrive.

  The ambulance, with its red flashing lights, backed up into the emergency room bay. Its back double doors swung open. The paramedics guided the gurney from the rig. Lying in the center of the stretcher was a man with a silver dagger imbedded in his chest. Max caught Gabriella as she swayed.

  He steadied her. “Are you okay?”

  Her eyes went wide. “That’s my uncle.”

  The man held his hand out to her. “Gabriella.”

  She ran to the gurney and grasped his hand. Her knees buckled. “Uncle Claude! I thought...” Gabriella’s throat tightened.

  Claude shook his head. “He didn’t finish me then, but he may have accomplished it tonight.” He raised his palms around the silver dagger stuck in his chest. Then he crooked his finger at her. She tilted her ear to his pale lips. He whispered, “Gabriella, Volk is here. He seeks you.”

  Max bent down and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Go,” he said softly. “He’s your family. It’s too personal. We’ll take good care of him.”

  Hell yes, this was personal! She wasn’t leaving his side. Not again. She thought he had died centuries ago. She wouldn’t let him die a vampire death now. It was all her fault for escaping from Volk.

  Gabriella and Max ran alongside the paramedic as they sped Uncle Claude, strapped to the gurney, into Fang E.R. Her heart hammered with every pound of her step.

  The paramedic called out, “Patient was found lying in an alley with a dagger protruding from his chest by a passerby who called 911.” He rolled his eyes. “Stated age—850 years old. He said he had an altercation with a vampire. Happy Halloween!”

  Claude grinned. “I look good for my age.”

  “Yes, sir, you do,” the paramedic said, humoring him. “Upon our arrival on the scene vitals were BP of, if you can believe it, 60 over palp, pulse of 40, and respirations barely breaking ten. But he’s moving air and talking. We couldn’t get a line in him, IV, or interosseous, but we’ve stabilized the penetrating object.”

  “Sorry,” Claude said. “I haven’t eaten, and my bone marrow’s been dust for ages.”

  “Here’s his run sheet,” the paramedic said to Max.

  Gabriella reached for her uncle’s transport papers, but Max snatched them away.

  “I’m serious, Gabriella. Please? I’ll handle it.” He motioned for a nurse to pull her aside.

  Gabriella clutched the gurney’s side rails, the gurney that carried her mortally wounded, beloved uncle. “I’m serious, too. I’m not going! And he needs blood.”

  “He needs more than blood, Gabriella. He needs surgery.”

  “I know,” she said somberly.

  Max and Gabriella stepped back. The trauma team, on the count of 3, scooted Claude from the gurney to the E.R. bed. They descended on him like vultures, organized vultures. A trauma nurse whipped out a pair of scissors and sheared off Claude’s clothes.

  “There goes a perfectly tailored suit given to me by Pierre,” Claude lamented.

  “Sorry, sir. But it’s necessary.” The nurse squinted. “Pierre Cardin?”

  “Actually it was his great grandfather.”

  The nurse cocked a brow. “Oookaay.”

  Gabriella moved to the head of the bed and cradled her uncle’s head. “You’ll be all right,” she whispered in his ear. “I’ll fix you.”

  “I’ve always loved you best,” he said.

  His eyelids fluttered.

  “Where’s that blood!” Gabriella yelled.

  K.L. burst into the room with an armful of blood bags. His eyes went straight to the dagger. They grew wide, seeing one of their kind. He shot his gaze to Gabriella.

  Gabriella mouthed, “My uncle.”

  K.L. handed the blood to her. “He’ll need more. I’ll call the lab.”

  Gabriella placed her fingers over Claude’s forearm. A faint thrill bubbling up from the remaining blood in his vessels sped across them. “I can get a line in him. Someone hand me an 18 gauge.” Gabriella threaded the angiocatheter into Claude’s vein. She got a dark red blood return. When was the last time he’d eaten? He’d traveled far to warn her. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. She repeated the mantra in her head.

  Barbara froze in the doorway of the trauma room, clutching bags of blood to her chest.

  K.L. ran to her. “Thanks.” He grabbed the additional units from her and clapped her on the shoulder. “That was fast. Great job.”

  Barbara moved away from the doorway and pressed her back to a wall, mesmerized by the commotion around a man with a dagger in his heart.

  K.L. rushed the fresh supply to Gabriella.

  Thank you and Barbara for coming to the rescue for my uncle.”

  “We’re your family, too,” he said.

  Her uncle was her blood, but K.L. was right. They were a family. Her pulse calmed. She gave a thumb’s up sign to Barbara.

  Barbara nodded back.

  Her creation had paid it forward. Gabriella hung blood bag after blood bag, squeezing every drop into his body. She stared at his heart rate marching across the cardiac monitor. Despite her valiant attempts, the points of his beat grew wider apart. Her uncle was dying. She had to do something fast.

  Max called, “I hear running. It must be the thoracic team.” He crossed his gloved hands above the waist of his sterile gown and ran to the doorway. He poked his head around the corner. “Over, here!” he yelled, expediting the team’s response.

  The nurses were busy trying to get more IV lines started.

  This was her chance. She grabbed the dagger’s hilt and eased it out of his heart. The electric current from her fingertips seared the hole in his ventricle closed. She leaned to his ear and whispered, “Volk has failed. Your heart is fixed, but let the mortals do the rest. I’ll see you after your surgery.” Gabriella kissed her uncle’s forehead.

  “Thankfully, clamming wasn’t your calling,” he whispered.

  She grinned. “But I do enjoy a good chowder.”

  Chapter Ten

  Gabriella pressed her palms to the OR window. Her heart beat for his. Normally, the operating suite’s window shades were clipped closed from the inside, allowing the anesthetized patient privacy. The OR team kept them open for her, knowing she’d give anything to be standing alongside the surgical team. Physician involvement when it came to a family member was taboo. As a vampire doc, she respected that policy, too. But the dagger tip had to be removed. Although his heart was sealed, their fates were not. Volk was coming. She had to prepare. Priority one was getting Uncle Claude into fighting shape.

  Gabriella whipped her head toward the tap on her shoulder. No one was there. She narrowed her eyes and scrutinized the surgical corridor for a hidden enemy. Her hackles standing guard, she turned her attention back to her uncle’s chest, exposed for human inspection. The second tap came, landing on the opposite shoulder.

  Bring it. Come after me now. Let’s do it! Gabriella hissed. “You want a fight?”

  She spun on her heels, ready for war. Her eyes locked with Max’s.

  “I don’t want to fight,” he said softly, his palms o
pen in supplication. “Come here.”

  He embraced her. His fingers filtered through her hair. Her hackles went “at ease.” She exhaled on his shoulder, relieved it had been him, this time. Perhaps it was Marcus who was playing tricks on her.

  “I’m sorry to have startled you, especially with your nerves on hyper-alert.” Max pulled her slowly away and grasped her hands. “How’s he doing?”

  “I don’t know, but his heart rate has improved. I can see it there on the monitor.”

  Max peered through the OR glass window. “Normal sinus rhythm –a beautiful thing. He’s lucky.”

  She nodded. “He is.”

  Her uncle was indeed fortunate to have been brought to her ER, thwarting Volk’s devious plot. Uncle Claude wanted her to run again, centuries later. She would not leave him, she wouldn’t leave Fang Hospital, and she wouldn’t leave Max. Gabriella swallowed hard. Volk, no doubt, had grown stronger over the last 850 years. She’d need a tactical plan before his predicted arrival. Strategy over power was her only hope.

  The approaching circulating nurse waved to Gabriella. She cracked the door to the OR suite and poked her head out. “Dr. Van Court, the surgeons are closing your uncle’s chest. He’s doing better than expected. His blood pressure and pulse are stable, but oddly, he’s still a bit pale.” The nurse shook her head. “The dagger missed his heart, even though the quick scan showed it punctured his left ventricle. Unbelievable.”

  “Thank you,” Gabriella said.

  Her heart soared. She’d won this round against Volk.

  “You’re welcome, Dr. Van Court,” the nurse said, nodding before returning inside.

  “Feel better?” Max asked.

  “Much.”

  She would not mention that vampire pale was Uncle Claude’s baseline color. And it was no surprise to her that the dagger missed his heart. She had taken care of that. Her relief was that no one on the surgical team had flinched during the case. Thankfully, they were unaware that the patient on their table was literally undead. The physician part of Gabriella had always been curious about vampire anatomy, having not seen one filleted open. Fortunately, there wasn’t too much of a difference.