40. Waiting
Chapter 40
Waiting
San Francisco General Hospital—Moments later
A nger rather than fear. Cerissa understood Rolf’s reaction, even if he was venting his feelings in her direction.
Henry leaned over for a kiss. “Will you be all right if I go update Marcus and Nicholas?”
“I’ll be fine.”
He nodded and slipped out between the curtains.
She glanced over at Rolf. “The surgery will begin soon. We should probably let Karen rest and go to the waiting room, too.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Where’s the real doctor?”
Antonio entered the curtained exam area. A security team followed, and they looked pissed at finding Rolf there.
“Please, there is no problem,” Antonio told them before they could question Rolf. “This is the patient’s partner.”
“If you say so, Dr. Martinez,” one guard replied.
Karen furrowed her brow and coughed. “He’s my boyfriend.” She sounded exhausted. “I already signed the paperwork. Why are you bothering us?”
“He broke in past the security doors without permission.”
“The computer hasn’t updated yet.” Antonio ushered the guards out. “I appreciate your diligence, but I assure you he is welcome here. You can return to the waiting area.” He pulled the curtain closed, then turned to Rolf. “Karen is in expert hands. I have one of our best surgeons lined up.”
Rolf lowered his voice and asked, “Why can’t I just feed her my blood? Won’t that cure her?”
Cerissa shook her head. Rolf had been doing that regularly. Karen had already confided in them that Rolf’s blood was one way Karen had been handling her symptoms. “That’s good for healing wounds,” Cerissa replied. “Or for restoring damaged tissue. But it isn’t enough to fight what is wrong with Karen, or we wouldn’t be here now.”
Rolf glared at her angrily, every visible muscle clenched.
“Rolf,” Karen said weakly, “the doctors know what they’re doing. It’s going to be okay.”
“ Liebling , I want nothing to happen to you.” Rolf brushed Karen’s hair off her face.
“I’m going to be just fine, you’ll—”
The curtains moved aside. “Karen Turner?”
Two orderlies appeared. One of them carried an electronic tablet.
Antonio responded, “This is Karen Turner.”
“We’re here to take her to the OR.”
The orderly who spoke checked the name on Karen’s hospital wristband against the electronic paperwork, while the other one worked to secure the tubes and other apparatuses that would travel with Karen to the operating room.
“I’ll go with her, too.” Antonio turned to Cerissa and Rolf. “Why don’t you two go to the surgery waiting room? That way, the surgeon doesn’t have to come looking for you when they finish.”
Rolf leaned over and kissed Karen. “I love you, Liebling .”
Karen kissed him back. “I love you too, sweetie.”
Rolf stepped away and let the orderlies move Karen out of the curtained area. Cerissa followed them out to see which way they were going.
“The fifth floor, main operating theater,” Antonio said over his shoulder as he walked with Karen.
“Thanks. Rolf, let’s go find Henry.”
H enry finished updating Marcus and Nicholas as they sat on the vinyl orange chairs, looking a bit lost. In the last twelve months, he’d seen too many hospital waiting rooms. They all had the same bland appearance, from the easily cleaned furniture with chrome supports to the wall-mounted television screen showing an innocuous home improvement channel droning on endlessly. Filling the room was the same combination of people struggling with pain as they waited to be treated or to learn the outcome for a loved one.
His trips to the hospital had started when one of Oscar’s henchmen shot Jayden. Then an assassin’s bullet, filled with liquid silver, almost ended Marcus. And when Christine went into the hospital for cosmetic surgery, she experienced a deadly cardiac event that put her into a coma, and with Cerissa’s help, he turned the mortal into his first vampire child just in time to save her.
And those didn’t count non-hospital events: Yacov’s murder, Karen’s kidnapping and torture, the attempted assassination of Abigale, which resulted in Nicole’s death, and Zeke’s taking a bullet meant for Cerissa.
Too much violence, too many injuries, too many surgeries, too many deaths.
If he had his way, he’d never visit another hospital again.
When the loud pneumatic doors whooshed open, Henry glanced over as Rolf and Cerissa appeared. The tension between them was obvious—anger rolled off Rolf, and his aggression seemed aimed at Cerissa. But why? She’d done everything she could.
Henry stood. “How is Karen?”
“They’re taking her to surgery.” Cerissa sighed. “There’s another waiting room near the operating theater. We’ll wait there for her. It may be a few hours.”
Marcus rose to his feet and clasped Rolf’s shoulder. “I’m very sorry that this happened. Is there anything you need us to do?”
“No, I—” Rolf’s voice cracked.
Henry stepped in to fill the gap. “I’ll arrange for our lodging.” They’d have to find a place to sleep during the day. Henry escorted Marcus and Nicholas to the exit, Rolf at his side. “But if you could clear our presence here with the San Francisco Lodge, it would be helpful.”
“Consider the matter handled.” Marcus shook hands with each of them. “I’ll ask Christine to email you a PDF of Karen’s power of attorney and advanced directive. The hospital may want them.”
Something about those words made the situation all too real. Rolf’s shoulders slumped, the anger releasing, and he rubbed at his chest over his heart. “Thank you.”
“Don’t hesitate to call.” Marcus gestured at Nicholas. “We have appointments tonight, but we can cancel them if you need us to return to the hospital.”
Rolf nodded as Marcus and Nicholas said their goodbyes and left.
Henry slipped an arm around Cerissa. “As you suggested, we should go to the surgical waiting room so the doctors know where to find us.”
Walking in silence, they took the elevator, then settled in to wait. Cerissa registered with the surgery coordinator on their behalf. When she returned, Henry asked, “Have you eaten dinner?”
“No, I’ve been with Karen since the EMTs took us off the plane.”
“Go get some dinner. If anything happens, I will call you.”
“I can’t eat.”
“ Cari?a , everything may be all right. This may just be a benign cyst. A routine operation. You will need your strength—denying yourself will do nothing to help Karen and will only weaken you.”
“Go on, leave,” Rolf barked from where he sat on Henry’s other side. “I’m tired of seeing your face.”
“Enough.” Henry twisted around to give his friend a reproving frown. Then he turned back to Cerissa, his hand on her shoulder. “Please, go to the cafeteria and get some dinner before they close.”
She stood up, took two steps, then came to a halt. “I almost forgot. I have to call Luis. He thought we would be home tonight. He’ll need to feed the dogs—we won’t be home in time.”
“I will call him. Go eat.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Come, I’ll walk with you.” Henry escorted her to the elevator. “Your presence is making Rolf edgy. I don’t know why. Eat something. Take your time. Give us an hour and then come back.”
Once the door slid closed, Henry returned to the waiting room and called Luis. When he received no answer—not even voicemail—he called Abigale. “Hello, Henry—aren’t you on your honeymoon?”
“We were supposed to return tonight, but Karen took ill. We’re at San Francisco General Hospital. Would Luis feed Bear, Mort, and Sang for a few more nights? I do not know precisely when we will return.”
“Well,” Abigale said, stretching out the word, “Luis is a bit tied up right now.”
“Oh.” Henry squirmed, imagining what Abigale meant. “I see.”
“But when he’s free, I’ll let him know.”
“I could call someone else—”
She laughed. “Don’t worry, your dogs will be fed.”
“My apologies for the interruption. I’ll phone when we have an update on our return.”
“Wait—you said Karen took ill? Is she going to be okay?”
“She’s in surgery. We do not know what is wrong yet.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Truly. Please give Rolf my best.”
“I will.” Henry swiped off the call. “Rolf, Abigale sends her best.”
Rolf nodded and said nothing. As much as Henry wanted to ask Rolf why he’d vented his anger on Cerissa, now was not the time.
A short while later, Antonio entered the waiting room and sat next to Rolf. “The operation is underway. They’re removing the ovary. A mass has devoured it. We’ll know more after the pathologist examines the tissue.”
Once Antonio left, Henry squeezed Rolf’s shoulder. “We will get through this together, my friend.”
“ Bah . You are overly sentimental about mortals. When she is gone, I will find another one. Perfectly fungible.”
Henry restrained the growl he felt welling in his throat. They’d been friends long enough for him to recognize the truth. Rolf was striking out, trying to avoid the pain, afraid he might lose Karen. Henry knew that.
Rolf pulled away and headed for the exit. “Call me if you have news.”
F inished with dinner, Cerissa hurried to the surgical waiting room, only to learn Rolf had left. Henry invited her to sit next to him on the couch and filled her in. They’d had no new updates on Karen’s condition since Antonio’s last report.
Cerissa tried reading a book on her phone, but couldn’t stay focused, and ended up aimlessly scrolling through social media, her morbid thoughts wandering helplessly. Karen was losing one ovary. She hadn’t wanted children, but if the surgeon decided to remove the other ovary as a precaution, early menopause wasn’t any fun to deal with. But what if the mass was malignant? What then?
By the time Rolf came back, his hostility was in check. At least that was a relief.
They had been waiting about an hour when Antonio returned with another doctor, who wore green scrubs, his hair covered by a matching surgical cap. They stood as the two men approached. “This is Dr. Farsakian. He’s one of our oncologists.”
“Oh no,” Cerissa said, and sank onto the waiting room couch, her stomach churning.
Antonio nodded. “I’m sorry. There is no easy way to say this. Karen has ovarian cancer.”
“How far along is it?” Cerissa asked.
“It looks like stage three,” Dr. Farsakian replied.
Feeling faint, Cerissa leaned forward, her head between her knees, gulping air. She felt Henry’s hand stroke her back.
This couldn’t be real. They were just drinking cocktails by the ocean days ago, laughing and making plans for the upcoming winter holidays, maybe even a ski trip. She would wake from this nightmare at any moment. She had to.
“The cancer is in both ovaries and one fallopian tube,” the oncologist continued. “And it’s spread to the pelvic lymph nodes.”
“How do you know this?” Rolf demanded.
“We injected a fluorescent drug that attaches to a specific protein found on ovarian cancer cells. During surgery, we use an imaging system that gives off near-infrared fluorescent light. It causes the drug to fluoresce so that I can see which cancerous areas to excise. Based on our imaging tests, there is additional tissue to be removed. The other ovary—”
Rolf angrily interrupted. “What are you babbling about?”
The oncologist stepped back, sucking in his cheeks. “I understand this is a lot to take in. We’ve completed the surgery Karen authorized, but need permission to remove her other ovary, fallopian tube, uterus, and pelvic lymph nodes, as well as cancerous growths in her fatty tissues.”
“I don’t understand.” Rolf whipped his gaze from the doctor to Henry and back to the doctor. “If you removed the tumor, why do you need to remove anything else?”
Cerissa squeezed Henry’s hand. What more could she do? Rolf wasn’t processing what the doctor was saying, too upset to absorb what the oncologist hinted at, but if she tried to run interference, she’d just piss off Rolf more—he wanted to blame someone rather than face reality.
“Karen’s cancer is advanced.” Henry rose to his feet. “The cancerous cells have spread to the other ovary and her lymph system.”
Rolf glared at the doctor. “Can she live without those organs?”
The oncologist nodded. “She can. She will prematurely go through menopause. She will stop having periods, and may have other symptoms, like hot flashes. She will still be able to have sex. But she won’t be able to have children.”
Antonio stepped closer. “We received the power of attorney you forwarded. Before we can remove the other organs, the hospital requires further authorization. Your authorization. It’s better if we don’t have to do a second surgery right away. Removing as much cancer as possible could prolong her life.”
Through the tears flooding her eyes, Cerissa couldn’t miss how Rolf’s jaw clenched. “Prolong her life,” he repeated, “but not save it?”
“With ovarian cancer at this stage, our goal is to stop the spread, to arrest it. She might have many good years ahead of her. But the odds of a full remission are not good. I’m sorry.”
“But performing the surgery now would help prolong her life?”
Antonio nodded. “Yes, it should.”
Cerissa stood and took Henry’s arm. She placed her hand over the crystal in his wrist and thought vehemently, Approve it . If she spoke out loud, her opinion might have the contrary effect on Rolf—he might obstinately oppose the surgery if, for no other reason than she supported it.
Henry clapped Rolf’s shoulder. “The doctor’s proposal sounds like the best course.”
Rolf shook off the hand and scowled at Cerissa. “Why haven’t you said anything? What would you do?”
Cerissa felt Henry’s emotions flood her—desperation, a plea for help, for her approval. “What they are recommending is the standard protocol. If the decision was mine, I’d say finish the surgery now. Karen doesn’t want children. She’s made that clear. So yes, this is a sound medical plan under the circumstances.”
Rolf looked at the oncologist like he’d just inked a business deal he wanted no part of. “Go ahead. Do it.”
“We need you to sign this form.” Antonio handed Rolf an electronic tablet.
He quickly signed with a stylus. “How much longer will the operation take?”
“Another few hours. We’ll keep you updated.”
After the oncologist left, Rolf turned to Cerissa. “Why didn’t you do something?”
“I’m sorry?” she asked, confused. “Do what?”
“Why didn’t you fix her yourself and protect her from these mortal quacks who are cutting out parts of her?”
“What did you expect me to do… Flash us off the airplane? Do you understand the uproar that would have caused if we just disappeared from a plane while in the air?”
“So, your secrets are more important than Karen’s life?”
“Rolf.” Henry turned, and his body blocked her view of Rolf. “Enough. Cerissa is not responsible for Karen’s condition. She has already risked everything once before to save Karen’s life, and her actions cost her greatly. You know she is doing all she is free to do at this moment. We must wait and see what the mortal doctors can accomplish.”
“ Bah , you’re both worthless.” Rolf turned on his heels and stormed out of the waiting room.
Even if she’d done what he’d suggested and flashed them to the Enclave, she had no idea how to cure Karen. It wasn’t like with the Cutter—it wasn’t a bone regrowth surgery or a skin regeneration. The Lux didn’t experience cancer, so they hadn’t researched cures for the vicious disease.
Cerissa hugged Henry, sniffing back her tears. “You should go with him. I’ll stay here.”
“No. Rolf needs time alone to work this out.” He squeezed her back tightly, then leaned away, looking into her eyes with concern. “Would you join me in the hospital chapel?”
“I need to make a phone call first. I’ll find you there.”
Cerissa eased onto the couch and watched Henry disappear down the hall, heading to the elevators. Once he was gone, she buried her face in her hands, feeling numb and hopeless.
Stage three? How could this be happening? More importantly, what could she do about it? She took out her phone and tapped the number for the one person who would know what they could do to save Karen’s life.
“Ciss, how’s Karen?” Ari asked.
“We’re at a hospital in San Francisco. Karen is in surgery. Ovarian cancer.”
“Fucking no.”
“Fucking yes. I—” Desperation grabbed her gut, and she bent over again. “I have to do something.”
“Agathe will have your hide if you use our tech.”
“I don’t even know if our tech would make a difference. It might help with removing some of the cancerous cells. Even though she’s stage three, I could try, and Agathe has forgiven worse.”
“She won’t this time. She’s under too much stress—there are big problems brewing.”
“What problems exactly?”
“The climate—”
Cerissa roared in frustration. “I know , Ari. It’s not news—I’ve been asking you about the climate plan for nearly a year, but I don’t understand why that would affect Agathe forgiving me or not.”
Ari paused, silent for a moment. “Agathe has some extreme options to choose between.”
“You mean she’s thinking of interfering with the weather?”
Ari sighed. “Bigger than that.”
A prickle crept underneath her skin. “She’s thinking of interfering with mortals?”
“Sort of.”
Cerissa’s mind raced—how would Agathe interfere? The Lux Protectors never took that kind of interference lightly, and it was extremely rare. After all, they had to execute their plans without mortals learning of their existence. Not exactly simple to do, as mortals developed their own advanced technology. And how could Agathe generate change fast enough? The damage was already done. Yes, a full climate catastrophe would unfold over the next fifty years, but some of the destruction from global warming couldn’t be reversed.
So many of Cerissa’s questions would be answered if they’d just give her access. Sometimes, she loathed the Lux system of compartmentalizing information.
Right now, Karen’s survival was more important than all of that, and none of Ari’s arguments made any sense. “What does the Lux’s climate plan have to do with Karen? Why are Agathe’s decisions likely to make my interference unforgiveable?”
Ari cleared his throat. “Look, I can’t explain precisely why. You just need to trust me on this. You can’t go behind Agathe’s back. Not now. The blowback would cause more harm than you’re ready for. Submit a request and wait for her response.”
“But—”
“Cerissa. I am not exaggerating. Do nothing until you have Agathe’s permission.”
Cerissa ran a hand through her hair. What choice did she have? In the past, Ari would break the rules without a second thought. If he was this serious, something had changed. “I’ll submit the request.”
“Good. Call me when you have news on Karen. Or when Agathe replies.” Ari paused. “And I’m really sorry I don’t have a better answer, kiddo.”