39. Turbulence
Chapter 39
Turbulence
Honolulu—The next night
W alking into a funeral parlor with her husband, Cerissa caught the fragrance of dying carnations. She hated that cloying scent. As if death had a perfume.
Knowing she’d leave without him left her uneasy, but she stuffed down the feeling before Henry could notice. This was the safest and fastest way for him to travel home. And the coffin ruse wasn’t his favorite way to fly, either, but it would be early afternoon when they arrived in California. They had no other choice.
The local funeral parlor made the arrangements to return both guys to San Francisco, traveling as corpses. A member of the Hawaiian community owned the operation. Despite Cerissa’s mixed feelings about the process, she followed Henry into the private viewing room.
“You do not have to do this. You can leave now.”
“I’m all right, Quique. It’s just a little creepy.” She squeezed his hand. “No offense.”
“None taken. I’ll be safe. Do not worry. The coffins contain a locking mechanism inside that prevents them from being opened until we wake.”
“I know.” She held up a cloth sack. “I brought you a six-pack of blood pouches, just in case there’s any delay, and we’re late opening the sleep pod.” She couldn’t bring herself to call it a coffin.
“That is kind of you, cari?a . But I cannot drink lying down.”
“These have a longer straw. You should be able to make do with that.”
“Thank you. That was thoughtful.”
She went into his arms and kissed him. When they broke, his loving gaze locked on hers.
“Now you should leave.”
“I’ll stay until the lid shuts. I want to make sure you’re all right.”
“Stubborn.” He kissed her one more time. “Very well.”
The funeral home had placed the box on the floor rather than a stand. He stepped inside and lay back, straightening his black t-shirt and smoothing out his matching jeans.
She set the bag next to him, where he could reach it easily. “I packed your e-reader in there, too. If you’re awake and bored, you can read.” She handed him a charged brick. “Just in case you need to recharge your phone or reader.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been traveling on my own for years. I can take care of myself.”
“Sorry. I don’t mean to smother you.”
He chuckled. “You can’t help yourself. But most power banks contain a lithium-ion battery.” He raised the brick, giving it back to her. “The battery cannot go in the plane’s hold.”
“This one isn’t on the prohibited list. I checked.” She ignored his other comment, nodding as he placed the brick in the cloth sack. “Comfy?”
“I’m fine, thank you. Now back away, so I can close the lid.”
“I love you, Henry.” She knelt and kissed him.
“I love you too, Cerissa. Now go.”
“Yes, my husband.” She stepped back, and he closed the lid. It really was an eerie feeling, to see him in a shut coffin. She heard the inside lock rattle into place, then she set the combination lock that was on the outside. He had told her in advance what number to use—the same one he routinely used on his luggage. Not the most secure approach, but now wasn’t the time to discuss his security practices.
She stepped out of the viewing room and into the hall in time to see Karen leave Rolf’s. “That was just too strange.” Cerissa said.
“After a while, you’ll adjust to it.” Karen gave a half shrug. “I envy them. Go to sleep in Hawaii, wake up in California. I wish I could sleep on planes as easily.”
“Rolf made sure we have first-class seats, so you’ll be able to stretch out if you want to.”
The vampire who owned the funeral parlor joined them. “Your mates are being loaded into the hearse. Are you following in your rental car?”
“Yes.” Karen yawned. “We’re going directly to the airport. Our flight is at seven this morning.”
“Then you should leave now. My driver will see they are on the correct plane. He gets paid well for doing that, so you have nothing to worry about.”
“Thanks. We appreciate the service.”
After returning the rental car and the usual hassles with security, Cerissa boarded the plane, following her friend down the narrow aisle to their seats. She sensed Henry was nearby in the plane’s cargo hold—even when he was asleep, she could feel his presence.
The flight departed on time. They’d been in the air about three hours when Karen started complaining of pain on her right side. “It’s not my period. That ended about ten days ago.”
“Maybe it’s just a touch of intestinal upset.” Cerissa frowned. They’d eaten local Hawaiian delicacies. Some were starchy and could be binding. Perhaps their unusual diet was causing a little constipation. “We’ve tried a lot of foods you’re not used to. Something may have disagreed with you.”
Karen stretched out and shut her eyes. After a while, she raised the seat back to sit up. “I can’t sleep. The pain’s real bad.”
“Let me check something.” Palpating Karen’s right side, Cerissa didn’t like what she felt. Without an ultrasound, she wouldn’t know for sure, but it might be appendicitis, an intestinal blockage, or something wrong with an ovary. She could feel a mass but couldn’t distinguish it with certainty.
She caught the flight attendant’s attention. “We may have a medical situation here. Karen is experiencing pain on her right side, and it’s growing worse.”
The flight attendant’s gaze flicked from Karen back to Cerissa. “Do you want me to see if there is a doctor on board?”
“I’m a doctor.” Cerissa touched the woman’s arm, infusing a light dose of her aura to ensure the flight attendant’s cooperation. “We’re going to need an ambulance when we arrive at the airport. It could be appendicitis.”
“Do you have ID?”
From the look of Karen’s pale face and the way she clutched her stomach, it didn’t take a physician to know she was in trouble. But Cerissa opened her purse and slid out a photo ID to prove she was a licensed physician.
The flight attendant took a picture with her phone, then handed the card back. “I’ll talk with the captain and ask him to request an ambulance. We’re about an hour and a half from landing. Is there anything more you need?”
“I’d like to contact Dr. Antonio Martinez, who works at San Francisco General’s emergency room. I want to alert him to expect us.”
“Do you have the phone number for Dr. Martinez?”
Cerissa searched her purse, found the business card Antonio gave her, and held it up.
The flight attendant took a photo, then spun on her heels and headed to the wall-mounted handset, presumably to speak to the pilot.
Karen groaned, doubling over in her chair.
“Hold on, bestie. We’re not that far from help now.”
“Can you give me something for the pain?”
From her carry-on bag, Cerissa removed a small doctor’s satchel. Using the hypo, she injected a mild painkiller, a medicine created by mortals. Karen couldn’t take anything by mouth. If whatever this was required surgery, her stomach had to be empty before the hospital administered general anesthesia.
Cerissa’s own stomach tightened with fear. She kept thinking of the old medical school saying: think horses, not zebras. Whatever caused the pain was most likely something easily corrected in surgery, like appendicitis.
She rooted through her medical kit for a digital thermometer. Karen’s pulse was faster than normal, and her temperature registered as ninety-nine point five—a low-grade fever, which could mean infection. In theory, if her appendix had burst, the number would be higher. And the location of the mass was troubling. Cerissa cut off that line of thinking. The main goal right now was to stay calm and keep Karen calm.
Finally, the flight attendant came to get Cerissa and brought her to the service area. “I have permission for you to use Wi-Fi to contact Dr. Martinez. The airline is waiving its no-Wi-Fi phone calls policy for the emergency, and they have ordered an ambulance.”
“Thank you.” Cerissa tapped a phone app and entered Antonio’s number. She eased onto the nearby fold-down seat and spoke as soon as he answered. “Antonio, we’re on a flight back to San Francisco and Karen is very ill.”
“What happened?”
“About an hour ago, she complained of pain on her right side, near and below the belly button. The pain has intensified, and I’ve injected a mild analgesic. The right side of her pelvis feels like she has a smooth, round, rubbery mass there. Diffuse pelvic pain, low-grade fever. As much as I thought it might be appendicitis at first, I have my doubts now. Could be benign ovarian torsion.” Torsion occurred when a cyst made the ovary unbalanced and caused it to twist on itself. The point at which it rolled could happen suddenly. “She’s been complaining of bloating and fatigue a lot lately. We assumed the fatigue resulted from recent stress and circumstances.”
“I see,” Antonio replied, sounding noncommittal.
Cerissa didn’t have to spell it out for him. He knew what the other possibilities were as well as she did. “We’ll land in about fifty minutes. An ambulance will take us to your hospital. Can you meet us there?”
“I’ll do better than that. I’ll alert the ER and have a surgeon on standby to examine her. We’ll do an ultrasound and lab work as soon as she rolls through the door. If surgery is necessary, we’ll be ready.”
“Thanks, Antonio. I’ll see you at the hospital.”
When she returned to her seat, Karen moaned, hugging her side. “The painkiller isn’t helping.”
Dammit. The situation limited Cerissa’s options. If she flashed them to the Lux Enclave, the ramifications could be catastrophic. Suddenly disappearing from a full airplane would trigger an official investigation with impossible-to-answer questions.
But maybe there was a way. If two Lux could morph to look like her and Karen, and they did an almost simultaneous flash in and out, the scheme might work.
Through the plane’s Wi-Fi system, she messaged Ari. Explained the problem. Gave him her solution.
Ari’s reply came through minutes later:
Are you crazy? Agathe would ground you if you tried a stunt like that. Do you want to live at the Enclave forever?
But Karen’s really sick.
Is she dying?
I don’t know.
Text me when you’re sure.
She wanted to hit something. How could Ari be so cavalier? This was Karen . Her bestie. The friend for whom she’d already gone through hell and back to save from death after the Cutter kidnapped and tortured her.
And now she was supposed to stand by and do nothing?
Karen moaned again.
“Hang in there.” Cerissa ground her teeth and checked her watch. “We land in thirty-five minutes.”
San Francisco Mortuary—Three hours later
T he cover to his sleep pod had yet to open. Henry grew impatient and, from underneath, knocked on the lid. They’d timed the flight’s arrival so the mortuary service would deliver him and Rolf to the funeral home around the time they woke, and here he’d been awake for over an hour now.
Where was Cerissa?
When he heard the combination lock click, he promised himself that he would restrain his frustration. Maybe there had been a problem at the airport. He mentally reached out to her, a habit developed to make sure the person unlocking his coffin was her and not some ill-intentioned vampire hunter. When he couldn’t locate her, he didn’t trigger the lock from inside.
“Henry, release the lock.”
A familiar voice, muffled by steel.
Marcus Collings .
“It’s me and Nicholas.”
Henry triggered the lock. The lid opened, and he sat up. “Where is Cerissa?” His pulse raced as panic caused his voice to rise. “Is something wrong?”
“Not with Cerissa.” Marcus patted the air, urging calm. “Karen took ill during the flight, and Cerissa is with her at the hospital. She called Nicholas to find out if anyone from the Hill was in San Francisco. Fortunately, Nicholas and I were here on business.”
“Hi, Henry.” Nicholas, Marcus’s fiancé, gave an uncomfortable wave.
Henry swung his legs over the edge and stood. “Is Rolf up yet? Has he been told?”
“We thought it best to get you first, so you could help with Rolf.” Marcus tugged at his mustache nervously. “He won’t be easy to deal with.”
Henry grabbed the bag with his phone, e-reader, and additional pouches of dark wine, and left the mortuary viewing room. He looked for Rolf—who wasn’t too hard to find, as a card reading “Müller Funeral” was in the holder outside the door. Marcus and Nicholas followed him into the standard family viewing room, with its rich wood paneling and circle of chairs. A window looked out onto the cemetery’s gently rolling hills, the evening’s twilight having given way to full dark.
Henry quickly punched in the code on Rolf’s coffin, then pounded on the top. “Rolf, open up.”
“Where is Karen?” The lid rose and Rolf got out. “Why are Marcus and Nicholas here?”
Henry took out a pouch of blood. “Drink this first.”
“Fuck that.” Rolf brushed the pouch aside. “Where is Karen?”
Henry grabbed Rolf’s arm and thrust the pouch into his hand. “Start drinking, and we will tell you.”
“ Bah .” But Rolf stuck in the straw and began sucking down the dark wine. “Now tell me.”
“Karen took ill on the plane. She’s at the hospital, and Cerissa is with her.”
Marcus stepped closer. “Cerissa told me that Dr. Martinez is helping them. She said he’s someone you met on your trip. We’ll tell you the rest of the story on the way there.”
The drive took less than five minutes. Henry shook his head at the irony. The mortuary must do a good business, being in such close proximity to a major hospital.
Once they arrived, they ran into a bureaucratic nightmare. The clerk refused to open the locked double doors that had the words Emergency Room stenciled in bright red paint above them. Not until Karen signed the requisite forms designating them as visitors.
“Let us in now!” Rolf yelled at the young man behind the counter.
“Patience, Rolf.” Henry yanked him away before the clerk contacted security and had them ejected. “I’ll call Cerissa and ask for visitation privileges. I’m sure they were so focused on getting Karen admitted and treated that some paperwork didn’t get finished.”
“ Bah. I have a faster solution.” When the sliding doors suddenly opened with a hydraulic thump , an attendant rolled a wheelchair patient out, and Rolf rushed around them before the doorway closed.
Having no choice, Henry followed, abandoning Marcus and Nicholas to make their apologies. He caught up with his friend and felt for Cerissa’s presence, then pointed to the left. “This way.”
Rolf took the lead—he and Karen shared a blood bond—and walked directly to her gurney and pulled the curtain back, slinking inside. “ Liebling , what happened?”
Henry entered, stopped next to Cerissa, and clutched the metal rail of the hospital bed so hard his knuckles turned the same pale color as Karen’s face.
“The pain started on the plane. They aren’t sure what’s wrong with me.”
Rolf stroked her face and gripped her hand.
Cerissa waved at him. “Watch the IV tubes—don’t bend them.”
“You were supposed to take care of her.” His neck sinews bulged, and he snarled. “Can’t you fix this?”
“Cerissa’s been great.” Karen mock-slapped at his chest. “Now behave yourself.”
From the other side of the gurney, Henry slipped an arm around Cerissa, and she leaned into him. “I can’t perform the surgery. The Protectors won’t let me. We’re going to have to rely on mortal doctors. The surgeons are prepping a room. There’s a cyst on her ovary. It’s why she’s been bloated and uninterested in food.”
“ Ach . A cyst.” Then Rolf narrowed his eyes at Cerissa. “Not cancer?”
Henry could feel Cerissa’s fear through the crystal. The news wasn’t good. He gestured for Rolf’s attention. “Let’s wait for the doctor to explain the diagnosis to us.”
“I want to know what that thing knows.” Rolf pointed a finger at Cerissa. “It’s not cancer, right?”
Henry snarled at the insult. “Rolf, your rudeness ends now. Apologize.”
Cerissa patted Henry’s arm. “It’s okay. I understand.” She turned to face Rolf. “The surgeons won’t know if it’s cancer until they remove the mass and take a sample. We have to wait for the tests.”
Henry took a step back, releasing his anger on a long exhale. Anxiety flooded his veins, replacing the anger. This was every vampire’s nightmare. Mating a mortal meant someday dealing with their mortality. It was one reason he was single when he met Cerissa. The risk of losing someone he loved chilled him to the bone. He could only imagine the turmoil his friend was going through at the moment, so he followed Cerissa’s lead and remained silent. They needed to stay peacefully supportive, for Karen’s sake.