42. Hopelessness
Chapter 42
Hopelessness
San Francisco General Hospital—An hour later
C erissa tiptoed into the chapel, not wanting the heels of her half boots to tap on the laminate flooring. It was a small room decorated in muted beige tones, with low lighting and padded cloth coverings on the wall to hold down the sound. Henry was alone, kneeling, a set of rosary beads in his hand. She watched for a moment as his fingers moved from one bead to the next.
When he reached the end, he raised the crucifix to his lips, then slid the rosary into his pocket. He crossed himself and stood, turning to face her. They may not share a spiritual belief system, but she was glad he found comfort in his.
She took his hand and kissed him. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but Karen is out of surgery. We need to find Rolf. He hasn’t returned yet.”
Henry slipped an arm around her waist, and she walked at his side as they left the chapel and headed to the elevators.
“Where did you get the rosary?” She tilted her head to look up at him. She’d never seen him with one before—he tended to be very private about his religious practices, but he’d confided more as they crafted the wedding ceremony. “Do you always carry one with you?”
“No. The hospital chaplain provided the prayer beads. It’s a comfort to hold them, to feel closer to God in troubling times.”
“I’m glad you have that.” Cerissa’s eyes flooded with tears, and she scrambled to find an unused tissue in her purse.
“Here.” From his pants pocket, he withdrew a packet of Kleenex and offered them. “The chaplain also gave me these.”
She plucked a tissue and dabbed at her eyes.
“Take the packet—keep it in your purse. I have my handkerchief.”
She leaned into him as they walked. “Thank you, husband.”
Once they arrived at the elevators, she pressed the up arrow while Henry phoned Rolf and put the call on speaker.
“Yes?” Rolf answered curtly.
“Karen’s out of surgery.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
The line disconnected.
Cerissa went into Henry’s arms, hugging him tightly. How had they gone from a joyful honeymoon to this living nightmare?
When he released her, she looked into his troubled eyes, unable to organize her jumbled feelings into words, and tears blurred her vision again.
“How are you doing?” he asked, cradling her shoulders.
She blinked, and a tear fell. Henry brushed it away with the back of his hand.
“I phoned Ari. We’ve submitted a request to Agathe, asking for permission to intercede and use our tech on Karen. Even if she says yes, I’m not sure what good I can do. We haven’t developed cancer treatments—”
“Do you think Agathe will approve?”
“I don’t know. I’m not thinking straight. Still in shock, I guess. I can’t believe this is happening. And I can’t believe I missed the symptoms. The fatigue, her complaints about feeling bloated, the change in her appetite—”
“Do not blame yourself.” Henry stroked her back and hugged her closely. “She seemed herself most of the time, and her fatigue appeared reasonable given her efforts in planning the wedding. How were you to know? Especially when she wasn’t highlighting these issues as a concern. They are common enough symptoms for many things, are they not?”
“They are,” she said against his neck. Then the elevator door opened, and they stepped apart to enter the empty car. “When we were on the plane, I kept saying to myself—think horses, not zebras.”
He pressed the button for the surgical floor and the doors closed. “Pardon?”
“If you see something that looks equine, think of the more ordinary animal first, and the exotic animal, like a zebra, only if you rule out it isn’t a horse. So when you see symptoms like Karen’s, doctors are trained to think of less exotic, less dramatic causes first. And there were things Karen wasn’t telling me. She never told me that her periods had become irregular—that’s not always a symptom, but with everything else, it’s part of the clinical picture. And she was having bladder problems. She dismissed the urgency and burning to nerves and too much vacation sex. If I’d had the entire list of symptoms earlier—”
Henry stroked her cheek, cupping her face in his hand. “But you didn’t know. It does her no good to be hard on yourself. Right now, we must focus on Karen.”
Cerissa nodded, and then went into his arms again—she desperately needed him to hold her and not let go. When the elevator stopped rising and the door opened, they walked to the waiting room. Rolf hadn’t yet returned.
She checked in with the surgery coordinator, who confirmed Karen was in recovery, but warned she couldn’t have visitors for a while.
“Can her partner go in and see her?”
“In a few minutes, yes, he can go in.”
Cerissa went back to the waiting room and sat next to Henry. The luggage was in Antonio’s truck bed with the tonneau cover closed over them—the airport had delivered their bags to the hospital, and Antonio had graciously offered to transport them once they checked into their hotel.
When Rolf walked up, Cerissa surmised that he’d fed again. Live feeding. His color was too good, his mood too elevated. Probably adrenaline enhanced from his victim’s fear.
If the San Francisco Lodge found out, there’d be hell to pay.
“Rolf—” Henry began, shock in his voice.
“Don’t start with me,” Rolf interrupted. “It’s not like I cheated on Karen. Stop overreacting. There’s a popular leather bar nearby, and before you even ask—I got his consent, and I tipped him well. Some people like a little fear.”
During the trip, she’d provided Rolf with a special diet of adrenaline-enhanced clone blood, enriched with the same hormones the adrenal gland produced. He needed a steady supply to stay emotionally stable. In the past, he got his fix by chasing and capturing a mortal and feeding on the spike in their adrenaline production. But because of the timing, Rolf had consumed the last pouch before being loaded onto the plane. She hadn’t reserved any for his waking, thinking they’d be together and on their way home, and he could get by on regular clone blood for the drive. If she had been on top of her game, she would have flashed to the lab and fetched more for him.
How would Karen react? Cerissa couldn’t tell her. Rolf was her patient. She’d been treating his cravings, and as such, she had an obligation to maintain confidentiality, which Karen already knew. Plus, if Cerissa broke her vow, she risked Rolf entirely rejecting an alternative source for the adrenaline his body required. Once he calmed down, he might return to drinking the special clone blood she provided. If anyone told Karen, it’d have to be Rolf, and with the cancer diagnosis, Karen needed less stress, not more.
The doors to the surgery hallway opened and the same oncologist strode out, still in green scrubs, but with his surgical cap gone.
Cerissa waved to him. He saw so many families. She didn’t expect him to recognize them. “How is Karen?”
“We completed the surgery. We took out all the tumors we could from her abdomen. Once she recovers from the operation, we’ll begin chemotherapy. We’ll walk you both through the treatment plan. She’ll be in the hospital for another few days, and then she’ll need help at home for a while. Is there someone to care for her?”
“Yes,” Rolf replied. “Can I see her now?”
The doctor led them through the double doors and to a room marked with a Recovery Area sign. Curtains separated patients, and when Cerissa spotted Karen, her heart clenched. Her bestie looked so pale and weak.
Karen opened her eyes when they came close to the gurney, and she reached out. “Rolf.”
“ Liebling .” He took her hand and kissed it. “Don’t think you’re going to get to lie around in bed all the time once you come home.” His voice was light and teasing. “The vacation’s over—I expect you back at work soon.”
Tears flooded Cerissa’s eyes. Rolf’s pretense drove home just how seriously he took the situation.
“Rolf, ever the slave driver.” Karen’s lips curved weakly. “So what happened? What did they find?”
“The doctor hasn’t told you yet?” Rolf asked.
“No. Or if he did, I’ve forgotten already. I still feel groggy.”
The oncologist joined them by Karen’s bed rail. “Ms. Turner, I’m sorry, but you have cancer. We removed your ovaries and uterus, and your appendix, and as many of the tumors as we could.”
Karen closed her eyes and opened them again. “Tumors?”
“Don’t let the doctor scare you, Liebling .” Rolf patted her hand reassuringly. “This is curable. Right now, you must focus on healing from the surgery.”
The oncologist side-eyed Rolf but said nothing. This couldn’t be the first time he’d seen family members in denial. Any further explanation of the situation would contradict Rolf’s words, and then Karen would realize the odds weren’t great. Not with stage three.
“I’ll be back to talk with you tomorrow about your diagnosis and treatment plan, Ms. Turner,” Dr. Farsakian said. “Tonight, we’re focusing on your recovery from the operation. Are you in any pain?”
“Not now.”
“I’m going to check the surgery site.” He lifted the sheet and peeled back the bandage.
Cerissa took a quick peek over his shoulder. The fluid from the drain tube was clear.
“Everything is looking good. Let the nurse know if you experience any pain. I’ve left orders for medication if you need it.”
The surgical nurse caught Rolf’s attention. “We’re going to move her to ICU soon. Why don’t you and your friends go back to the waiting room? When we have her settled in, we’ll come get you.”
Rolf leaned over and kissed Karen’s chapped lips. She smiled, but that faded out again, and she closed her eyes. He squeezed her hand.
Cerissa’s phone buzzed, and she stepped into the hallway, where Henry joined her. A text message from Agathe: Wait there .
Moments later, a nearby restroom door opened and Agathe exited in her mortal guise. Her beaded braids clacked lightly as she walked. “Both of you. Follow me.”
Cerissa gulped. Why had Agathe appeared in person? A simple yes could be transmitted via text. Were there conditions attached that she wanted to discuss?
Cerissa and Henry followed Agathe through the waiting room and into one of the small, unoccupied family rooms. A painting of the Golden Gate Bridge adorned one bland beige wall. Cerissa felt like she was about to be pushed off that bridge.
“Sit,” Agathe ordered them.
Henry pulled over two chairs, and Cerissa accepted the chair he offered her. “You received my message?” she asked, taking the seat across from Agathe.
“Yes. That’s why I’m here.” Agathe gazed at her intently. “The answer is no.”
Cerissa opened her mouth to argue.
Agathe cut her off with a wave of her hand. “Cerissa. You must think of this rationally. An instant remission of advanced-stage cancer? The doctors will be suspicious. Even the vampires will ask questions. We can’t afford to have mortals or vampires guess we are present on this planet. You know this. It’s too dangerous. You have forgotten as of late, but you know why we cannot reveal ourselves.”
“We don’t know if someone will attack us—”
“Child, you’ve lost sight of what matters. Our primary fear isn’t an attack against us. We can’t allow disclosure to incite…war at such a precarious time.”
Cerissa paused, her chest tightening. Beside her, she felt Henry shift in his chair.
“You mean religious wars?” he asked.
Cerissa gulped. “Even nuclear war?”
“Now you understand. There are too many factors in play right now. We cannot allow the mortals or the vampires to believe there has been a miracle.” Agathe spat the last word in emphasis. “We cannot throw caution to the wind and reveal ourselves now. Think of the upheaval.”
Cerissa felt despair give way to desperation. How to convince her? “But we can’t stay hidden forever. You know we can’t. We’ve discussed how disclosure is inevitable. And that inevitability is even closer now that someone powerful is hunting us.”
Agathe blinked once before her brow furrowed. “What do you mean, hunting us? Who is this powerful person?”
“I met the first turned vampire, Inanna—the child of the Lux prototype—and in our conversation she revealed she knew of other supernatural beings beyond vampires. She thinks they’re dangerous and has been hunting them for a millennium. When I told Ari, he suggested those supernatural beings are us.”
Agathe’s spine straightened, and she bit her lower lip. The nervous gesture was so unlike the head of the Assembly of Protectors.
“You didn’t even know about her, did you?” Cerissa said. “Who’s to say there aren’t others who suspect we exist already? We can’t control everything.”
“That is all the more reason not to call attention to ourselves, not to risk discovery, especially now, given the larger picture we’re facing.”
“You mean the climate catastrophe and whatever plan you have to combat it?”
Agathe narrowed her eyes and said nothing.
“Why am I not being read in on this? I’m a scientist—a good one—and I could help with the strategy. I’ve asked for permission repeatedly to learn what’s in the works since last January.”
Agathe shook her head. “You’re too embedded with humans and vampires to know our plans. We cannot afford a leak.”
“I wouldn’t—”
“Yes, you would,” Agathe snapped. “As we’ve seen before, your objectivity is compromised. Even now, you argue a single human life is worth risking the status quo.”
“But this isn’t just anyone. It’s Karen.”
Agathe threw her hands in the air. “You’re only proving my point. You’re too close to the situation. The risk you’d take to save your friend might reveal the Lux and trigger all those catastrophic repercussions.”
Cerissa gasped. Agathe had never been so callous.
Throughout the argument, Cerissa hadn’t missed how Henry had quietly fumed. Suddenly, his expression changed, and he rubbed his chin. “What is happening that has you so on edge? This”—he waved a hand in Agathe’s general direction—“is not how you normally handle matters of life and death.”
“There is more occurring than you have clearance to know, vampire. Take care of your wife. Keep her out of trouble. The Assembly is not in the mood for her foolishness. I say this for her own safety.”
Henry harrumphed . “Then show us the complete picture.”
“Not yet.” Her gaze flicked to Cerissa. “And don’t even think of going behind my back. If you use our tech to cure Karen, I’ll see you confined to the Enclave for a hundred years. You’ll be stuck in the lab and not allowed to go anywhere on the planet. Understand?”
“But I don’t.” Cerissa rubbed her temples. “Your arguments—no one will know if I try to save her.”
“ Absolutely not . The Assembly is as much on edge as I am. Don’t test their patience, and don’t test mine.” Agathe glanced at her watch, then sprang to her feet. She rushed out of the room.
When the door closed behind her, Cerissa leaned into Henry. “I don’t understand. Our secret has always been a priority, yes. But what has Agathe so agitated she’s afraid of a little suspicion? Few people know about Karen’s cancer. We could contain it, relatively.”
“I don’t know, mi amor .” He cocked his head. “Agathe was most unlike herself.”
She swiped at the tears flooding her eyes. “What are we going to do?”
“We will wait. Karen has time. Mortal medicines may keep her alive longer. And then you can ask Agathe again.”
“Oh my Goddess.” She pressed her face into Henry’s shoulder, letting his strength anchor her. “I can’t. I can’t just sit around and wait for permission.”
“You won’t be doing nothing. You’ll help Karen through this. She needs you. Together, we’ll support her and Rolf. And she might recover. The doctors speak of prolonging her life and not sparing it entirely, but they don’t know everything. There is still a chance.”
“You really think so?”
“I can’t abandon my faith. Especially in times of crisis. We’ll do whatever is humanly possible for Karen.”
“We need to use every Lux tool to save her.”
“I know that’s what you want, querida . I do too. But let’s not test Agathe right now. Particularly because you don’t know if Lux tech or medicines would even heal her. Promise?”
She nodded against his shoulder. She couldn’t look at him. Because if it came between a choice of staying in Sierra Escondida with him, or saving Karen’s life and risking banishment, she wasn’t sure which she’d choose. How could she be happy living her life with Henry on the Hill if it meant letting Karen die without trying to save her?