“Just open it,” Julia said, exasperated.
Thomas obliged, squinting his eyes and holding it at arm’s length, just in case.
Inside the box was a row of curved needles and some cord-like material wrapped tightly in spools. Frowning, Thomas picked up one of the spools and inspected it first, then the needles.
“Weird,” Thomas said.
“Weird, indeed. Lawrence says the vampire who dropped this off said it was medical supplies for ‘our kind,’ but what’s so special about sutures and needles? We have those—disposable ones, too.”
Thomas ran his fingers along the spool. The cords were thick and coated with something he couldn’t identify. He shook his head.
“Not like this we don’t,” he said, holding the suture kit closer to his face. “This is some sort of microfiber. It feels weird. A lot heavier than the usual synthetic polymer we used at Stoker Memorial.”
“Well, we are a lot tougher than humans. Charles or Jericho could probably use rebar to sew themselves together before healing properly,” Julia said. She tapped her chin. “Maybe it’s laced with something that agrees with our constitutions?”
Setting the spool down, Thomas handed a needle to her.
“Let’s find out,” he said, smiling. “Still remember how to do a proper subcuticular stitch?”
Julia stared at him with a haughty expression and snagged the needle from his hand. “Don’t get cheeky now, Thomas. I can do a subcuticular stitch blindfolded.”
“I sure hope so,” Thomas muttered under his breath. “It’s me that’ll suffer if you’re lying—Oh God!”
He shouted out as the needle pierced his skin. Sharp pain spread along the purple streaks. Julia leered at him, and his stomach clenched.
“I’d be careful, Tom. You wouldn’t want to piss off your nurse.”
11 Stalker
Although the sliver was under an inch long, it’d been launched with such force it was a miracle it hadn’t pierced a lung. The old wood had become swollen with blood, making it easier to grasp with the forceps.
Al winced, and Thomas grimaced as he discarded the sliver into the garbage can.
“Dammit, that stings. Guess I’d better be glad Foxe has a doctor around at all,” Al said in his heavily accented English.
Al, or Albert to outsiders, was one of Lawrence’s friends who had flown in the day before. He and the two others who came with him, James and Bob, were known as the Boston Boys among their circles of influence, and each one of them had a reputation a mile long.
“I take it vampire doctors aren’t very common?” Thomas asked, wiping the wound with an alcohol-soaked swab.
“No, they ain’t. Most of us don’t need no doctors anyway. If we get hurt, we just drink ‘till we’re better,” said the giant Jericho, who was Thomas’ next patient.
Jericho had already dug out a bullet from his shoulder with a penknife, no more discomforted with the action than someone might be chewing a thumbnail.
“Last time I got hurt working for Lawrence was that time I got hit by a car,” Al said through a brave grin as Thomas extracted another sliver pulled from his back. “But this bastard Ernest is one helluva tough customer.”
According to Lawrence, Ernest must have had the airports watched, because as soon as Al, James, and Bob had arrived in the city, their cab had been attacked.
The blood junkies couldn’t hope to take on the muscle the Boston Boys and Jericho provided one-on-one. All of them were experienced fighters, which meant Ernest had to be more creative, and his tactics became dirtier.
“That probably stings a helluva lot more than a car,” Jericho said in his semi-truck rumble of a voice, nodding to the splinters Thomas was plucking out of Al. “Looks like chopped-up church door.”
Al winced in reply.
“Alright, that seems to be the last of them,” Thomas said, pulling out another sliver and dabbing some liquid bandage onto the last puckered wound. Al’s back was thoroughly coated with the liquid, and the chemical smell made his eyes water. “Keep off your feet for a few hours so you don’t open up any of these lacerations, er, cuts. Get yourself a few pints of blood and you should heal up by tonight. No red lightning or booze. It thins the blood and slows down your regeneration.”
Al cackled and jerked a thumb in Thomas’ direction as he looked up at Jericho.
“Do you hear this? A fledgling vampire telling us how to recover the night of a lil’ scrape?” the Boston Boy joked. “And no booze in a bar?”
Jericho rolled his massive shoulders. “He done okay by us. He already patched me up a few times. Night before last I got cut pretty bad. Silver too. I was okay by mornin’. Do what he says, and you’ll feel better, faster.”
Al frowned and glanced over at Thomas with an expression that could be interpreted as either suspicion or respect.
“I used to be a surgeon at the hospital.” Thomas smiled. “And I’ve been able to practice on myself since being turned. I’ve learned what works.”
Al laughed and stood up, grabbing his shirt and slipping it on. He walked up the stairs out of the basement, which was something he hadn’t been able to do under his own power when he’d been brought to the Red Lightning Pub an hour ago.
The church-door shrapnel had been a low blow.
As Jericho took a seat to be treated for his latest injuries, Thomas heard a little chirp from his pocket and glanced over at his phone. It was a text from Nelson.
Ignoring the text in favor of grabbing a fresh needle and the specialized sutures, Thomas had to fight down a wave of guilt.
Thomas hadn’t seen any of his friends since the night he’d told them about Gary and Ernest’s war, although he’d kept in contact with them via emails, texts, and calls as much as he could. He hated leaving them comfortless after dropping a bomb’s worth of bad news on them, but with the increase in violent activity between the vampires of Colesbrooke, he was busier than ever and Lawrence had forbidden Thomas from leaving the bar.
Every day at the Red Lightning Pub, he sewed up lacerations and punctures, picking out shrapnel, and treating chemical-like burns from holy water, it became clearer he was the only thing keeping Lawrence’s crew above water. Ernest had them outmanned, outgunned, and had already shown he was more than willing to do whatever it took to beat every last one of their allies out of the city, or worse. It made Thomas’ skill with a scalpel and needle invaluable. Despite all the easy justifications, he couldn’t brush off the guilt over abandoning his friends.
“Now, this suture is different from the one I used last time,” Thomas said, refocusing, as he grabbed a new spool of the specialized microfiber. “Let’s just say it really agrees with us. I was bitten, but I felt almost ready to go hunt down the guy that bit me after I was stitched up.”
“Heard about that,” Jericho said over the sound of Thomas’ phone chirping again. “Any stuff that’ll close a bite wound is good enough for me.”
Before Thomas could reply, his phone went off again. A list of short messages flashed on the lock screen.
Artemis is being followed.
Artemis is being followed.
Artemis is being followed.
Thomas’ heart sank into his stomach.
Nelson had sent the message three times to make sure it got through. Thomas took a deep breath. He had to steady himself. The fierce urge to race out of the door, out of the pub, and go directly to Artemis’ apartment overshadowed his unnatural hunger.
He couldn’t let what happened to Gary happen to Artemis. Not Artemis.
He needed to finish up here quickly—he doubted the vampires would ever let him leave unfinished. If he managed to leave at all.
Moving back over to Jericho, Thomas focused intently on his work. A quick stitch was all the giant needed.
“Done,” Thomas said, using medical scissors to cut the last of the suture and nearly tossing the needle and spool onto the desk as he grabbed his phone.
“Already?” Jericho asked, a bit surp
rised as he inspected his stitches. “Huh. Pretty quick. You’re gettin’ a handle on this vampire thing faster than I did, doc.”
That comment made Thomas pause. Was he finally getting used to being a vampire? He could ponder what this meant for him later. Thomas grabbed a blood bag, handed it to Jericho, and left the bar.
Not even the vampires who’d been stationed as guards outside the Red Lightning Pub would have been able to keep up with Thomas as he ran full speed toward Artemis’ place.
◆◆◆
“Oof!”
In his haste, Thomas slipped on his landing from jumping down the stairs, and he slammed right into Artemis’ door, nearly breaking his nose.
“Thomas?” Penny’s voice sounded shaky. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Thomas shouted through the door, getting back to his feet.
“What’s the password?” Sean shouted.
“We didn’t make up a password,” Thomas called back, frustrated he couldn’t get in to see Artemis.
“Okay. What about Twilight? Or Dracula? Or Vlad?”
“Those are stupid. Now let me in.”
“Not until you pick one.”
“Dammit, Sean. Let me in.”
“Let’s go with Dracula,” Nelson added.
Thomas released a string of swear words loud enough to wake the neighbors a block down then took a deep breath. If Sean and Nelson were feeling calm enough to be stupid, then Artemis was okay. At least for now.
“Ok, whatever,” Thomas said, working hard to keep his voice level. “Dracula it is.”
“Yes! I told you he’d go for it.”
Thomas could hear the smugness in Sean’s voice.
“Go jump off a bridge,” Penny snapped. “Thomas, come on in.”
Immediately the strange tension of the threshold fell, and Thomas threw open the door, stepping into the room to see Sean, Nelson, and Penny sitting around the table.
Sean and Nelson were still laughing, but Penny stood up to greet him with her customary kiss on the cheek.
It smelled heavily of warm chocolate cake, causing Thomas to turn his eyes to the kitchen where Artemis stood, back toward him. She wobbled as she closed the oven with her foot.
Thomas shut the door behind him and headed over toward the table.
“Stress baking?” He spoke loud enough for everyone to know it was directed at Artemis. “Something is wrong.”
Sean and Nelson quit laughing and adopted somber, tight-lipped expressions.
Penny was outwardly calm, but her pulse was quicker than a normal resting pace.
“I just had a bit of a scare last night, that’s all,” Artemis said, her back still to him.
“Artemis?”
She turned around, a smile plastered on her face. But Thomas could tell she was forcing it. Her heart pounded heavily.
“Everything’s fine, Tom,” she said. “You don’t need to worry about us. They need you at the pub.”
“That’s not true, sis.” Sean looked visibly uncomfortable with his sister’s feigned calm. “Look, we’ve all caught an eyeful of some creepers following us. Only at night.”
“All of you?” Thomas asked in surprise, looking around the table. “How did you even see them? Vampires can move like ninjas when they want to.”
“They haven’t exactly made an effort to hide,” Penny replied, a smile fluttering briefly on her lips before dying away.
Thomas’ stomach churned.
“Artemis noticed someone watching the apartment. Day, night, it doesn’t matter,” Penny explained.
“I didn’t say that. I only said I felt like someone was watching the house. And he’s not always there.”
Penny patted Artemis’ hair in a motherly fashion. “It’s enough of a concern that we needed to say something.”
Guilt swelled in Thomas until he thought he might burst. Sean and Nelson tried to put on a brave face, but they were obviously worried. Penny looked like she hadn’t slept in a while. He hated himself for bringing this upon all of them, hated himself for barely thinking of them the past few days—they’d been through hell, too.
He wanted to reach out to hug them close, but he couldn’t. Everyone at the table wore silver crosses around their throats, intentionally visible.
“Look, I’m sorry. I think I can make this right though,” Thomas said slowly, standing up and taking a step toward the kitchen. “I just need to talk to Lawrence.”
“No, you don’t have to,” Artemis said, jumping to her feet. “We’re fine. Right, guys?”
No one said a word. Penny, Sean, and Nelson exchanged looks. No one wanted to be the one to say anything.
“Well,” Penny said after a while. “It might not hurt to get some help, Artemis. We’re in over our heads.”
“Thank you,” Thomas said, relieved. “Now, Lawrence might be a little hard to convince, but if I can convince Julia—”
“I said you don’t have to,” Artemis snapped.
Everyone looked at her in surprise. Realizing what she’d done, Artemis’ face flushed deep red.
“I—I’m going—I need to go to the store,” she mumbled and fled from the apartment.
In seconds, Sean was on his feet going after her.
Thomas made to follow him, but Sean held out a hand to stop him.
“Uh, big brother territory, I think,” he said a little sheepishly. “Just—I’ll be back when I find her.”
Sean slammed the door behind him and left the three remaining in the room watching the spot where the Butler siblings had disappeared. Artemis was snapping at people, and Sean was being sensitive. Their lives really had turned on their heads.
“I’ll make this right,” Thomas said to Nelson and Penny quietly. “I promise, I will. I’ll get you guys safe. Then maybe Artemis will feel better.”
Penny and Nelson both stared at Thomas with blank expressions.
“You think the people following us is the reason she’s mad?” Penny asked in disbelief.
Thomas frowned. “Well, yeah?”
Nelson shook his head. “Idiot.”
◆◆◆
Thomas hurled open the door to the upstairs office Lawrence kept above the Red Lightning Pub. He immediately regretted it when he saw the twin barrels of a sawed-off shotgun aimed between his eyes.
“Ah, horsefeathers, kid. You can’t be throwing open doors and barging in here when we’re at war. I nearly punched several holes in you.” Lawrence sat back down at his desk with an angry shake of his head. “By my count, you’re a cat runnin’ out of lives.”
Still thinking of Artemis and his friends, Thomas steeled himself and marched up to Lawrence’s desk.
“Ernest has men following my friends. I want them moved into the apartments behind the bar so they’ll be safe.”
Lawrence gave a noncommittal grunt. “I’ll see what I can do, kid.”
“I’m not bending on this.” Thomas slammed the desk. “I want them moved to safety, and I want them moved now.”
“A snowman has a better chance of dancin’ in hell than I have of takin’ that kind of tone from a fledglin’ that’s been nothin’ but one giant headache for me,” Lawrence said coolly. “This is war, kid. War. My wife wasn’t blowin’ smoke when she said this could get us all killed. Ernest is breakin’ every rule we have, and if I don’t clean it up, someone else will, and you can bet it won’t be pretty.”
Thomas felt his own anger rising.
“My friends are in danger,” Thomas yelled, his fangs extending. “I’ve been attacked. Multiple times.”
Lawrence watched him, his chest heaving. Then he closed his eyes in resignation, furrowing his brows.
“Please, understand,” Thomas begged. “I’m only asking you to let them come so I don’t—” Thomas’ voice faltered. “I can’t lose them, Lawrence. They were my family long before any of you.”
Lawrence opened his eyes and stared at Thomas long and hard. After several moments of silence, he groaned.
�
��Do what you want, sawbones,” he said, sounding defeated. “But don’t you be leadin’ them to believe they’ll have their own space. We need all the room we can get.”
Thomas’ knees were weak with relief. He almost sank to the floor but managed to keep himself steady.
“Thank you, Lawrence. Thank you. I can’t begin—”
“But,” Lawrence interrupted, raising a finger. “You’ll get Chuck to fetch ‘em. You snuck right past our sentries last time, but I’m not playin’ games when I say you shouldn’t go out. You’re the only thing between us and a boat ride on the River Styx.”
Thomas opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it.
A condition like that was something he could deal with. At least his friends would be safe.
◆◆◆
She wasn’t answering her phone. Thomas swore, pressing the green phone button next to Artemis’ contact again. Everyone else had answered and agreed to move into the apartments above the Red Lightning, although they weren’t thrilled about it. However, Artemis still hadn’t received the message. The ringing from Thomas’ phone stopped and Artemis’ wispy voicemail greeting echoed from the speaker phone.
Dammit.
Thomas tossed his phone on the counter. It bounced and slid off onto a bar stool. Charles had left over two hours ago to pick up Artemis and the others. He’d returned with no one. What was Artemis doing? She always answered when he called.
The door swung open, and Thomas jumped.
Charles escorted Artemis into the Red Lightning Pub with Penny, Nelson, and Sean on his heels. Blood streaked across Artemis’ spring dress, leggings, and coat, her curly hair messy around her face. A white cloth stained red was wrapped around her wrist.
“Thank God,” Thomas said, jumping over the counter to get to Artemis. He hugged her, her scents of lavender and glue buried beneath the metallic tang of blood.
Artemis blushed, and Thomas was distracted by the warm blood rushing to her cheeks. The scent was freshest at her wrist, although not as warm. It had already started to clot to the handkerchief tied around it.
Shadows of Colesbrooke Page 20