by Mary Hughes
“Yes.”
I turned to Ric with a confused smile. “You knew?”
“I found out. He’s being released tomorrow.” He swung into a spot.
“I didn’t bring any books to read to him.”
“I’ve got something else in mind.”
We got out, my brain churning on the question of why Ric had brought me here, and why now. But when we entered the hospital’s cool quiet halls, even after everything, the slight medicinal smell comforted me. “It’s well after visiting hours,” I said to Ric. “The nurses will know I’m no longer attached to Teddy’s case. We may not be able to see him.”
“We’ll see him.” Ric’s eyes flashed violet.
“Oh. Right.”
At the nurses’ station, one of the third shift nurses was standing, reading a chart. She had a short brown bob and blue scrubs. I thought about sneaking past her, remembered the v-eyes and cleared my throat. She raised her head and smiled. “Dr. Byornsson, good to see you again.” Seeing Ric, her smile brightened ten watts or so. “Who’s your friend?”
“Hi, Betty. This is Ric. We were in the neighborhood and I’d told him so much about the hospital he wanted to see it for himself. So since we were in the neighborhood, I thought, well why not stop by…”
I trailed off, because I’d been babbling, but also because Betty wasn’t paying attention. Her smile faded and her face went blank.
I switched my gaze to Ric. His eyes burned almost red. He said, “You haven’t seen us.” His voice echoed as if in a crypt.
Slowly, Betty turned away.
“What was that?” I whispered. “What are we going to do that you don’t even want anyone to remember we were here?”
Ric took my arm and led me toward Teddy’s room. “What you’ve trained half your life to do. Heal.”
All the patient rooms were singles, so at least Ric wouldn’t have to compel some poor child too. As he ushered me into Teddy’s room I heard brrrt, brrrt.
Despite the late hour, Teddy was awake, shuffling a deck of cards the fancy way I’d taught him, ruffling deck halves together then settling them with a back arch. He was small for his age but happy and eager, with the curly hair of a spaniel puppy. His large dark eyes lifted the moment I entered. “Dr. Synnove!”
“Hello, Teddy. How’s it going? That shuffle’s looking pretty good.”
His hands were barely big enough to contain the deck, but he must have been practicing steadily since our last phone conversation. Bright, determined, focused. I wished with all my heart I really could heal him completely. But the nerve damage was too extensive for anything but a miracle.
I stopped abruptly. A miracle. Like the one Nikos had given Elena. I suddenly knew what Ric intended. I turned to him. “You can’t—”
“It’s all right.” Ric’s smile was gentle, reassuring. “I want to.”
“But you’re not millenniums old, and Bo’s not here to replenish you after, and the cost…”
He laid his hand on my shoulder, his warmth radiating through me. “If it’s any help, I don’t think it will take as much as Nikos.”
“Dr. Synnove?” Teddy sat still and small in the bed, his face puckered in a slightly worried frown. “What’s wrong?”
Poor Teddy. He’d already gone through so much. Did I want Ric to suffer? No. But did I want to heal Teddy? Emphatically yes.
And, from the nova in his eyes, Ric wanted to heal Teddy too.
I clicked off my fears and doubts, not Crisis Time but simple belief in Ric. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.” I went to Teddy, gathered his small hands in mine and smiled. “In fact, everything is all right. This is Dr. Ric. He’s a specialist. He’s here to try to heal your leg.”
“Hello, Teddy.” Ric’s voice was deep and resonant. “We’re going to get you all better.”
Teddy’s worried eyes turned to Ric. “More needles? More peppermint air?”
“No needles.” Ric came to stand next to me. “No anesthetic. Just listen to my voice. Listen and let yourself float. Picture your favorite place. A warm, sandy beach, or a field, thick with golden summer grass.”
As Ric spoke, Teddy’s face, instead of the blank, slightly frightening mask that Betty’s had become, simply relaxed into a small smile. His eyes fluttered closed and he gave a contented sigh, as if snuggling up for a nice sleep.
Ric’s voice tapered off. I moved the tray out of the way. “Now what?”
“You open the skin to each area of damage. I’ll apply blood a little at a time until that area heals.”
Much better than the wholesale bloodletting in the north woods. “I’ll get his records to pinpoint the damaged areas. And an instrument tray to open. We’ll need to move him into the OR, and we’ll have to scrub.” I started for the door.
Ric stopped me with a touch. “I think he’ll be more comfortable here.”
“What about infection?”
“Not a problem, with my blood. Blood…” His eyes turned inward, then snapped back to me. “And you may not need the charts.” He spun toward Teddy and strode to the foot of the bed. Gently he lifted the covers from the boy’s legs. He rested his large hand on the boy’s right ankle and closed his eyes. “Yes. I can sense the problem areas.”
“How?”
“Blood flow. The capillaries are behaving differently around the damaged tissue.” He pointed. “Here.”
“All right. Let me get a tray.”
The surgical tools were counted and stored in a locked area but I knew the keycode. I set a basic open tray on a cart and wheeled it back to Teddy’s room. Leaving it near the bed’s foot, I checked the boy’s pulse, and pulled back his lids to check his pupils. Everything was normal.
Then I went to the sink and scrubbed. Maybe there was no risk of infection with vampire blood, but my hands were human. They were covered in germs.
“I found all the areas while you were gone,” Ric said. “This won’t take long.”
“Good.” I gloved, then uncovered the tray and picked up two scalpels, handed him one. “Where first?”
“Here.” Ric pointed.
I swabbed the area with disinfectant then made a tiny incision in the boy’s leg. Ric thankfully did not slice his wrist for blood. He cut his finger with the scalpel and squeezed a few red drops into the opening on Teddy’s leg.
It wasn’t as dramatic as with Elena, but it was still pretty impressive. The small incision immediately closed, neatly, like an invisible thumb smoothing a clay seam. The skin flushed, then puckered before settling back to healthy skin.
“Amazing,” I breathed. “Did you see that? The puckers?”
Ric had gone pale. “Synnove, I’m sorry. I thought it would work—”
“It did work. You know how your skin wrinkles from a long bath? Skin with nerve damage doesn’t.”
“Oh.” He smiled tentatively. Poor dear. He’d been crushed at the possibility that his healing hadn’t worked. It made me love him all the more. “Next spot?”
As I opened each small area, Ric released a few drops of his blood. Concentrated on those tiny areas, it took much less to heal Teddy’s leg than Nikos used to save Elena.
But even that little exhausted Ric. He collapsed in a chair while I cleaned up and removed the cart. Yet when it was time, he rose to hold one of the boy’s hands while I held the other, and said softly, “Wake up, Teddy.” I couldn’t help thinking that he would make a wonderful father some day.
Teddy’s lids fluttered open. “Dr. Synnove? Is it over?”
I was relieved to see clarity in his dark eyes. “All done. How do you feel?”
“Good.” He sat up. A slow smile lit his face and eyes. “Really good.” He flexed his right knee, then raised his leg. “It’s like I can talk to my leg again. Like maybe I can walk again.”
“I’m so glad you feel better,” I said cautiously. “But we should go slow—”
“I can feel my leg, Dr. Synnove.” He swung both feet off the bed. “I can stand, I know I can.”
<
br /> “Wait…Ric!” I grasped the boy’s arm firmly. He was coming down off the bed, now, and I couldn’t stop him. I could only cushion the fall.
But he didn’t fall. He landed on both feet, wobbled between Ric and me, and straightened. Then he took one step from the bed. And another. Ric let go. And another. I let go. Teddy took another step, gaining confidence. He turned, then skipped a small step. “I can walk, Dr. Synnove. Dr. Ric, look! Look at me walk.”
Dr. Ric. Image, but also true. Not because he had the medical degree, but because he’d healed the boy.
And in healing Teddy, Ric had healed the worst of damage The Incident had done to me. Dr. Ric, because he’d healed my heart.
Suddenly Ric leaned against the bed, eyes closed, breathing shallowly. I put my hand on Teddy’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, I’ll be back to check on you. But you need to go to bed now and get some sleep. Your mother’s coming in the morning.”
“Won’t she be surprised! Now she won’t have to do what Dr. Bearsylls said.” He gave me a quick, hard boy’s hug. “Thank you, Dr. Synnove.”
“Well…your mom still has to pay for the surgery somehow.”
“Teddy’s healed,” Ric said softly, opening his eyes on me. “Holiday Buzz will cover the medical bills. I think we can safely say you won’t be subjected to further harassment.”
Blinking, I met Ric’s tired but steady gaze. How had I ever thought this male was image only? “Thank you.”
Teddy hugged Ric’s waist. “Thank you, Dr. Ric.” Then he jumped into bed.
“Good night, Teddy.” I took Ric’s hand, led him shuffling to the doorway, and shut off the light.
But the moment we got out of earshot I said, “You need blood. Take mine.”
“I can’t, not without endangering you.” He gave me a wan smile. “I told you I wanted you too much.”
My cheeks heated. He’d said that before giving me that first orgasmic bite. A glass of juice had taken care of any light-headedness, and I hadn’t thought anything more of it. And then he’d bitten me again this morning…okay, maybe I was a couple pints down. “Then you should rest.”
“One more thing to do first. I’ll be all right.”
But when I insisted on driving he didn’t argue. Even that little bit of blood had taken a lot out of him. If it hadn’t been so worrisome, it would’ve been fascinating.
He asked me to drive to Meiers Corners where he directed me to Julian and Nixie’s townhouses. Twyla had moved there in January but I’d been busy with clinical and hadn’t seen the place yet.
“What are we here for?”
“You’ll see.”
I parked the car on the street, and we approached the nearest townhouse. Ric‘s fangs peeked out from between his lips. Stress or caution or both had brought his vampire nature to the fore.
And then, between one breath and the next, a mist streamed before us and snapped into six-plus of black-haired, red-eyed and long-fanged lawyer.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Julian Emerson snarled.
“Pax.” Ric held up a palm. “I’m Ric Holiday.”
“Holiday?” Julian’s fangs slowly receded and his eyes cooled to blue. “The Ric Holiday who wouldn’t even speak to me?”
“Things change. I’m here to map out an advertising campaign for you. It’ll take several nights. Got a place Synnove and I can stay?”
“Maybe.” Julian frowned. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to do an ad campaign for Meiers Corners as quaint and local, not the New Sin City?”
“Well, I’ve got some ideas for you. But someone else will have to implement them. It’s vital I maintain my independence from your Alliance.”
“But what about Camille?” I said. “The competitive presentation?”
“I can reverse it now. Discredited, she won’t have Nosferatu to back her up.”
“I’m onboard,” Julian said. “Anything that vexes Camille gets my vote. But what changed your mind?”
Ric looked at me and smiled.
“Oh.” Julian sniffed delicately. “Ohhh.”
We returned to the Chipmunk Lake cabin complex a week later—Julian had gone ahead with the purchase—with half Julian’s household. On the way we stopped at Chipmunk Lake Supplies to get sunscreen and beach toys.
As Roy the Friendly swiped my card he said, “D’ya went wirms wih dat?”
I nodded. “Why not? And you might as well add a couple fishing poles too.”
And so it was that evening that Ric and I finally relaxed together on the pier in front of our cabin, worms bobbing in the moon-speckled water. For the first time since Bearsylls had botched Teddy’s surgery I was completely at peace.
I smiled. “Wirms. Fer feeshin’. I get it now.”
The next Match Day wasn’t until March, so I had a wait before I could start a new residency in Minneapolis. Ric and Aiden pretended to look for Eloise but Ric’s real first move, allowing himself to be photographed in kelly green, wouldn’t happen until then either. In the meantime, I volunteered at a local children’s hospital. Rosie and Harry, who, after a whirlwind courtship, had gotten married, asked if they could volunteer too.
I got them a gig reading fairy tales to sick kids.
One evening I leaned against the doorway in my hospital scrubs, listening to Harry’s deep voice as he read “The Beauty and the Beast”. Rosie’s eyes on him were lit with love.
Ric materialized silently beside me and dropped a kiss on my neck. “Harry does a nice job reading.”
“That he does.”
“That’s my favorite story.”
“Mine too. I used to think it meant ‘Don’t judge by image’. But these days I have a new moral for ‘The Beauty and the Beast’.” I smiled into his azure eyes, silently telling him how much he’d come to mean to me. “Love unlocked the real me.”
His gaze told me I was loved in return. “I have one too. Love freed the Beast, and Beauty too. Love freed us both.”
About the Author
Hugs! I live in the United States Midwest with my alpha-husband beta–reader, two adult kids who constantly amaze me, two grandcats who demand equal lap time, a basement full of spare computer parts, and a music room with a romantic cello and a flute for twisting my fingers playing orchestral birds.
I’d love to hear from you! Write me at [email protected]. Or visit me online!
Website: www.maryhughesbooks.com
Facebook: MaryHughesAuthor
Twitter: @MaryHughesBooks
Look for these titles by Mary Hughes
Now Available:
Biting Love
Bite My Fire
Biting Nixie
The Bite of Silence
Biting Me Softly
Biting Oz
Coming Soon:
Biting Love
Downbeat
Real vampires do musicals.
Biting Oz
© 2012 Mary Hughes
Biting Love, Book 5
Gunter Marie “Junior” Stieg is stuck selling sausage for her folks in small-town Meiers Corners. Until one day she’s offered a way out—the chance to play pit orchestra for a musical headed for Broadway: Oz, Wonderful Oz.
But someone is threatening the show’s young star. To save the production, Junior must join forces with the star’s dark, secretive bodyguard, whose sapphire eyes and lyrical Welsh accent thrill her. And whose hard, muscular body sets fire to her passions.
Fierce as a warrior, enigmatic as a druid, Glynn Rhys-Jenkins has searched eight hundred years for a home. Junior’s get-out-of-Dodge attitude burns him, but everything else about her inflames him, from her petite body and sharp mind to what she can do with her hip-length braid.
Then a sensuous, insidious evil threatens not only the show, but the very foundations of Meiers Corners. To fight it, Junior and Glynn must face the truth about themselves—and the true meaning of love and home.
Warning: Cue the music, click your heels together, make a wish and get rea
dy for one steamy vampire romance. Contains biting, multiple climaxes, embarrassing innuendos, ka-click/ka-ching violence, sausage wars and—shudder—pistachio fluff.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Biting Oz:
I had just pulled black jeans and a black T-shirt over a lacy powder-blue thong and demi-bra (they were next in the underwear drawer—really) and was brushing my teeth when a knock came at the attic door.
“That’s weird.” No one ever knocked. Because of the setup, my parents were the only ones who had access to the attic, and they took unholy delight in bursting in on me unannounced. Especially (to my chagrin) when I was “going through puberty”, if you know what I mean. Curious, I spat and rinsed and headed for the far door. It took me across my “hallway”.
Picture a capital T. Turn it sideways and set it on our house, the top bar along Jefferson in the south. My room—bedroom and tiny bath—was at the intersection, sitting like a tree fort in the branches of the attic, the rest being bare rafters and blown insulation.
The stairwell door was at the foot of the T. A set of two-by-fours laid over the joists was my hall. I traveled it by instinct, ignoring the fact that one wrong step would put me through my parents’ ceiling. If I ever got out of here, I’d be a shoo-in for a high wire act.
I hurried to the door and opened it. Swallowed my tongue.
Filling the doorway and then some was Glynn, hands thrust in his black leather jacket pockets.
His jaw, freshly shaved, was more honed than I remembered, his skin almost dewy. His lips… I groaned. The upper begged for a nibble, the lower demanded a full tongue-swipe. Those edible lips parted, revealing strong white teeth. The tip of his tongue peeked through.
A storm of lust broke in my belly, drenched my thong.
Glynn’s nostrils flared, elegant yet animal. His eyes—smack me with a kielbasa, his eyes burned deep, hot purple.