2. CHAPTER 2
To say that my feet are killing me is a gross understatement after being on them for nearly sixteen hours straight and tending to the patients in the ER.
“Come on, Helia,” Melissa insists. “Just one drink.”
“I can’t,” I tell her, without looking up at her as I sign off on another patient’s chart. “I’m literally counting down the minutes to get home and put my feet up.”
“You can do that in the bar, too,” Jessica says with a rather cheeky smile. “I’ll be more than happy to commandeer an extra chair for you in the name of medicine.”
“Girls,” I say with a sigh after I hand the chart to one of the nurses. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yes,” they echo, raising their brows expectantly.
“That being said,” I continue, “and with all due respect, of course, but Jess is a trauma surgeon, and Mel a general one. While you both need to do your fair share of standing, you also get to rest a bit in between surgeries. We’re way understaffed in the ER, and even without breaks, we’re not keeping up with the demand.”
“Fair enough,” Jessica agrees, but her tone makes it clear that she’s not finished. “How about we make you a deal?”
I groan, wanting nothing more than to go home and catch a couple of hours of sleep. Jessica gives me a sympathetic smile, which is also the only indication that she heard me before she pushes on with her idea.
“For the next four Mondays, Mel and I will donate two hours before our shift to help out in the ER,” Jessica says, her lips slowly curling up into a smug smile because she knows it’s an offer I can’t refuse. We’re drowning down here and could really use some help from upstairs. Unfortunately, shift schedules don’t work that way, and it’s not like the operations can be put on hold either.
I roll my eyes and give in. “Fine, but only if we go to the Base Club across the street.”
“Yay!” Melissa claps her hands in excitement.
“Of course, we’re going there,” Jessica confirms. I allow myself a small smile, relieved that at least there’ll be other doctors around to eventually distract my friends long enough for me to slip out. I’m still hoping to get to bed before midnight.
“I’m just going to bring the attending up to speed, and then I’ll meet you in the break room,” I tell them before turning on my heel, not waiting for their answer.
I aim for the nurse’s station, knowing that there’s always someone around, but change my course when I see Dr. O’Donnell there. I’m in no mood to gently turn down his advances, and I’m too tired to come up with a plausible excuse as to why I don’t want to have dinner with him.
“Shouldn’t you be off by now?” my attending’s voice comes from behind me, startling me.
“Oh, Dr. Smith, I didn’t see you there,” I say awkwardly, forcing a polite smile on my face.
Dr. Smith furrows his grey eyebrows as he gives me a grandfatherly look. “You’ve been on for a shift and a half. You should really go home and get some rest.”
It’s what I would like to do too, but unfortunately, my friends have different ideas. I don’t bother explaining that to my boss and instead point at the tablet in my hand.
“I’ve updated and signed all the charts,” I tell him. “Bed three is clear for discharge, and the woman in bed four should be, too, if her results come back clean. The nurses are taking care of the frequent flyer in bed two, giving him a wash and a trim.”
“Homeless?” Dr. Smith asks, and I nod, handing him the tablet. “If there’s nothing else, then you should get going before a disaster strikes, and we lock you down in doing another shift. You’ve already been putting in way too much overtime. I’m seriously impressed that you’re still standing.”
I give him an awkward smile, knowing that he’d never understand the real reason why I’m still able to function. Though I’ve only been on for a shift and a half, I’ve been on for two straight ones before that, with only three hours off in between. That’s what we get for not having enough doctors in the hospital. There’s only one efficient way to fight the lack of sleep, and though it also comes in a black liquid, it’s nowhere near as tasty as coffee—perks of being a witch.
Same as drugs, even potions can be overused and abused. I’ve been drinking way too many energy potions lately, and I should really get some sleep to prevent my body from crashing. I won’t be able to help people if I sustain any permanent damage myself.
“Good night, Dr. Payne,” Dr. Smith dismisses me with a firm tone.
“Good night,” I reply and walk away, determined to make it to the break room without getting sucked into an emergency.
Life in the hospital is an adventure in itself. There’s a lot of drama to go around, and a rollercoaster of emotions to take a spin on. While I’m doing my best to stay away from it all, there are some paths that even I can’t entirely avoid. Speaking of...
“Helia.” Dr. O’Donnell smiles, putting his hands on my arms to steady me when I nearly crash into him when turning a corner.
“D-dr. O’Donnell,” I stammer, my tired brain desperately looking for a way to get out of whatever conversation that’s about to take place. “I didn’t see you there. I’m in a bit of a rush.”
“I can tell,” he says, his blue eyes watching me with softness. He lets go of my arms and runs his fingers through his short blonde curls. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Liam?”
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, averting my gaze to the floor to discourage him from flirting. “I should really go. Jess and Mel are waiting for me.”
“I just saw them in the break room,” Liam comments, misreading all my signs. “They were talking about the Base Club. Are you going?”
A swear word bubbles up my throat, but I swallow hard to push it down. I can’t exactly lie to him.
“Only to get them off my back,” I reply, forcing the corners of my mouth to lift. “I can’t wait to get home and crash.”
He glances at his wristwatch. “My shift doesn’t end for another half an hour. Hopefully, you’ll still be there by the time I get off.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, walking backward to put some distance between us and finish this conversation before he puts me in an uncomfortable spot. “I should go.”
“See you later,” Liam calls after me, but I don’t bother replying as I rush to the break room, determined to get a fast drink with the girls so they won’t be able to accuse me of constantly bailing on them.
Jessica and Melissa are the only human friends I allow myself to have, but even those friendships come with restrictions. Most of the time, I’m trying to hang out with them at work and keep the conversation far away from my personal life. It’s not like I can explain to them over drinks all about how I participated in a ritual worshipping our Earth goddess for last week’s new moon.
“There she is,” Jessica announces when I enter the break room.
She and Melissa are already wearing their street clothes, and they even grabbed my purse out of my locker. I can’t blame them for trying to speed things up to keep me from changing my mind.
“My coat—” I start, but Melissa steps forward and gently pulls my white robe off my shoulders.
“Dr. O’Donnell said he’d take it to the locker room,” Melissa tells me, setting it on the chair. I frown but don’t object, figuring that the sooner we get to the Base Club, the sooner I can go home.
I follow the girls through the hospital’s back entrance. I’m careful where I step as I cross the street, painfully aware that this isn’t the cleanest area. As doctors, we get some sort of unwritten protection, and the Base Club isn’t as bad as it seems at first glance. The establishment has indeed seen better days, which were probably fifty years ago, but there’s something chic about it that still attracts a decent crowd.
Melissa takes my hand, as if to make sure that I’m still with them. I give her a small smile, hoping to reassure her that I won’t leave before I get at least one drink. I like to keep my word whenever I can, and this seems like an easy one.
Jessica waves in greeting to some people who are leaning against the side of the building. With my face still schooled in a polite expression, I follow her gaze. Though I find some of them familiar, it’s hard to place them, especially because there’s always such a flurry of movement in the hospital. People come and go, and most of the time, while I notice them, I don’t actually see them.
We enter through the door underneath the flashy neon sign, going straight to the basement where the Base Club is. Thanks to the weekend, the club is quite full.
“See if you can find us a table while I get drinks,” Jessica says above the music.
Melissa and I nod, then turn in the direction opposite the bar where she’s going. We make our way through the dense areas until we reach the far corner nearest to the bathroom. It’s usually rather empty back in this area because it is so far away from the bar.
We claim a table that’s been used as a dumping spot. I stay put while Melissa grabs the empty glasses and carries them toward the bar. As I’m left alone, I take a moment to give the bar stools a little wipe before I sit on one and allow myself to relax as much as the lively atmosphere lets me.
In truth, the music isn’t too loud, meaning that we can hold a meaningful conversation without having to yell too much. The Base Club is a popular spot for all ages, its shadiness is brought down several notches by the fact that some off-duty cops also like to come around. It is where different lifestyles meet and merge into one.
Melissa and Jessica return together, carrying drinks. I nod in thanks when Jessica gives me mine.
“A toast,” Melissa says, holding up her glass of beer. Jessica and I do the same, pressing our glasses together. “To the girl’s night that has been long overdue.”
“Hear, hear!” Jessica laughs.
I shake my head ever so slightly and smile. “Cheers.”
I take a sip of my pale ale, then carefully wipe the foam above my lip while listening to Jessica tell us her wild story about how some poor guy jumped through the window and impaled himself on his fence.
“The firefighters had to bring the fence in with him and had to join us in the OR to take it out seconds before we operated on him,” Jessica concludes, an excited smile on her face. “It was crazy. The guy’s lucky to be alive.”
“Moral of the story,” I say, lifting my glass up again. “Use the front door.”
Melissa and Jessica laugh, clinking their glasses with mine. We go around, exchanging hospital battle stories. Before I know it, I’m on my second glass. I need this girl’s night as much as I need my sleep. I’m off for two days, so staying another hour here shouldn’t affect me too much.
Melissa raises her arm and waves above the crowd. “It’s Liam!”
I groan, resisting the urge to bury my face in my hands. I’d completely forgotten that he planned on coming. Jessica and Melissa are big fans of him, just like I used to be, until he started flirting with me.
“You’re so lucky,” Jessica tells me, her eyes locked on Liam’s tall frame as he pushes through the crowd. “He’s so hot.”
“His blue eyes are like the deepest ocean,” Melissa croons, actually fanning her face with her hand. “His blonde curls and tan body make him look like a surfer.”
“I know, right?” Jessica agrees, nodding wildly. “All he needs is an Australian accent.”
“I’ll admit that he’s easy on the eyes and smart,” I tell them with a slight roll of my eyes.
“What’s the problem then?” Melissa challenges. “It’s clear that he likes you.”
“Just give him a chance,” Jessica urges, then changes the topic because he’s here. “So nice of you to join us.”
“It’s good to be out of the hospital for a bit,” Liam says, claiming the empty bar stool next to me, but before he sits down, he points at our glasses. “Can I get the next round?”
“Yes, please,” Jessica says, downing the rest of her beer.
Melissa grabs the empty glasses and stands up. “I’ll help you.”
Liam turns to me, his blue eyes locking on mine. “The usual?”
My mouth forms around the word no, but instead, a cry of pain comes out. I glare at Jessica for kicking me under the table, then turn back to Liam and give him a resigned nod. His face transforms, his eyes shining with joy.
“He’s a good guy,” Jessica tells me when Melissa and Liam are out of earshot.
“I know,” I breathe, then quietly add to myself, “He’s just too human.”
While no law would prevent witches from being with humans, there’s simply too much on the line for us to risk it most of the time. It really needs to be a deep and special kind of love to get us to risk being discovered. As if that’s not scary enough, adding on top of that my twin sister’s overprotectiveness, and there are literally no eligible guys swimming in my dating pool.
When Melissa and Liam return with the beers, I remind myself to drink mine slowly. The lack of sleep and skipping a proper meal is going to bring this third glass straight to my head. Although I’m sure I’m already drunk, I’m not feeling it quite yet because I’ve been sitting this whole time.
Liam doesn’t only sit next to me but even moves his chair closer so our thighs are touching. I squirm and give him an awkward smile, then quickly bring the beer to my lips. It would be impolite to leave before finishing it.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you look very beautiful,” Liam tells me, leaning way too close for my comfort.
I force a smile, hoping that it doesn’t look too cringe, and make a show of looking down at my clothes. I’m wearing a faded sweater that looks more grey than black, and my most comfortable pair of faded jeans that I didn’t get a chance to wash in two weeks. All in all, I’m disgusting and in desperate need of a shower.
“You’re kind for lying,” I reply, then realize that it sounded a lot like an encouragement for him to give me more compliments.
Liam must’ve noticed it, too, because he smiles and opens his mouth, no doubt taking the invitation to have a conversation with me.
I glance at Melissa and Jessica, my eyes silently begging for help, but they don’t notice. They’re too busy staring in the direction of the bar. I follow their gaze, looking over Liam’s shoulder just as the music stops. Liam’s brows furrow at the interruption, turning toward the commotion as well.
At the bar, two extremely handsome guys in tailored suits seem to be facing off against a small group of off-duty cops. With the music turned off, I notice the one with the man bun and an English accent is trying to dissolve the tension.
“I apologize on behalf of my mate,” the man-bun guy says to the cops. “He’s clearly had one too many. May I buy you a round of drinks?”
“This jacket is limited edition,” the bulkiest of the group snarls, pointing at the wet stain on it. “It cost a fortune.”
“A fortune for you,” the man-bun’s friend snickers. There’s something about him that makes me want to get a closer look. Without realizing it, I’m off my stool and in the middle of the face-off.
“Stay out of it, Dr. Payne,” the angry cop warns me. I don’t wonder how he knows my name, even though I don’t know his.
“Let’s all take a breath, okay?” I say, raising my hands in a mock surrender gesture. “The guys will pay for your drinks, and then they’ll leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” the man-bun’s friend insists, violently shaking his head in a drunken motion. He’s leaning heavily against the bar, his elbow soaked with what I hope are beer stains.
“Here.” The man-bun guy hands his card to the bartender. “Everyone’s next round is on me.”
The bar erupts in cheers that even the cops can’t ignore. The man-bun’s generous gesture has gotten him some much-needed support. The angry cop nods before walking away, and a second later, the music’s back on.
“I appreciate the help, but would you mind if I ask you for another favor?” the man-bun guy asks with a heavy English accent, and I nod. “The girls we were with seem to have left. Would you mind taking my mate out and waiting until I settle the tab?”
“Sure,” I tell him, happy to use the opportunity to call it a night.
I take the drunk guy’s arm and put it over my shoulders, hoping that I’ll be able to support his weight. He doesn’t object and walks with me on unsteady and wobbly legs. With our bodies pressed together, I can tell that he’s full of muscles in all the right places. Somehow, we managed to get up the stairs without falling, and I gently set him down to sit on the curb.
“You’re hot,” the guy drawls, slurring the words. “What’s your name?”
“Helia,” I reply, wanting to keep him awake and talking as I quietly assess the state he’s in. “What’s yours?”
“Grayden,” he replies, then runs his fingers through his now messy hair that looks like it’s seen better days. Judging by the way the dark curls stick together, he must be a hair gel fanatic. The fallen curls slightly cover the faded sides, but his short stubble is still well-groomed to perfection. Not even a night of drinking can entirely dishevel his rich persona.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, then gently grab his chin to make him look me in the eyes. His pupils are too dilated for my liking, nearly covering the whole area, although his eyes seem to be quite dark by nature. “Grayden, I need you to be honest with me. Did you take any drugs tonight?”
“If you’re accusing me of being high, then it’s all your fault,” Grayden slurs, his eyelids drooping. “I must be addicted to your beauty because I want you closer.”
Before I can react, Grayden puts a hand behind my head and pulls me closer. The kiss never comes because, in the next moment, someone grabs him by the collar and forcefully drags him on his feet.
“Don’t you dare touch her,” Liam growls, bringing his face dangerously close to Grayden.
“Let go of him,” I order, jumping on my feet to get Liam away from Grayden. “Don’t you see that he’s drunk?”
Liam’s eyes widen. The look on his face is one of disbelief. “He’s not worth your trouble, Helia.”
“I decide who is and who’s not worth it!” I snap, unable to suppress my anger at his meddling. “You should go back inside. I got this.”
A flicker of hurt flashes across Liam’s face. He abruptly releases the collar of Grayden’s shirt, then he puts his arm around my shoulder, leaning against me for support.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Liam says, then turns on his heel and walks back into the Base Club.
“You and I both,” I mutter as I help Grayden to sit down again.
“Your boyfriend’s a jerk,” Grayden announces, and when he meets my eyes, his pupils are even more dilated. I cup his cheeks to keep him from moving as I try to get a better look.
Grayden’s friend picks that moment to come out of the Base Club and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, mate. You work fast.”
I shoot him a glare before returning my attention back to Grayden. “Your friend needs to go to a hospital for a CT scan,” I tell the man-bun guy. “His pupils are blown, and I want to rule out a brain injury.”
“Bloody hell,” the man-bun guy curses and kneels next to us, turning Grayden’s face his way so he can get a better look at him.
I use the opportunity to get up and pull my phone out. Even though the hospital’s right across the street, I want them to be prepared for our arrival. Before I can give them a call, the man-bun guy waves me over.
“He’s fine,” he tells me. “Look.”
I furrow my brows in disbelief but do as he says. Joining the man-bun guy on the ground and use my thumb to lift up Grayden’s eyelids. I check the right one first before moving on to the left one, and then back to the right.
“That’s impossible,” I mutter under my breath, but it must’ve been loud enough because the man-bun guy heard me.
“I told you he’s fine,” he tells me and proceeds to pull Grayden on his feet.
“He should still go to a hospital,” I insist, but the guy shakes his head.
“No way,” he tells me. “I’ll take him home, then call a family doctor to check on him in the morning.”
“That’s too late,” I argue. “A lot of things can happen in those hours.”
“Do you have a better idea?” he challenges, and I know that it’s pointless to suggest taking him to the hospital again.
“Yes,” I say with a resigned sigh. “We’ll take him to my place. I’ll keep an eye on him there.”