Chapter 30
An adrenaline rush fueled Salem after he sedated Quinn.
Milly’s responsibility was to monitor her vitals while Salem inserted catheters into the blood vessels in her chest—one on the left, the other on the right.
One port extracted Quinn’s blood, which went to a waste bag behind the bed. The other put the new blood in.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Milly asked from a stool by the heart monitor. “I don’t want this coming back on me, catch my drift?”
He finished hanging up the blood bag next to the saline and connected the tube. “That won’t be a problem because no one will know what happened here tonight… except us.”
“And the Vampire in the next room,” she countered. “I don’t like it.”
“He’s only here in case something unexpected happens or more people show up.
” Salem glanced at the door to the adjacent room where Pyro and her guard were staying.
Pyro was in the process of donating the last two bags, and the only thing keeping her occupied was a tablet she could watch movies on.
“I need your word you’ll never speak of her or write about this in your memoirs. ”
Milly cackled and then erupted in a fit of laughter.
“Memoirs! If I had something important to share with the world, I’d stick one of those megaphones on the hood of my car and drive around town so I could tell everyone which jackasses have shorted me money.
I don’t know anything special worth writing down in a memoir.
Besides that, I don’t even know what the hell is going on here. ”
“All the same, I need your word that you’ll forget this ever happened.”
“I won’t say anything. You should worry more about those goblins upstairs who are eating me out of house and home.”
“I thought you offered them the gingerbread?” After priming the line, he adjusted the rate on the pump for the blood to go in.
“I bake when I’m pissed off.”
He flicked a glance at her.
“You asked to rent out my entire medical room for two days. I don’t turn down emergencies or money, but I sure as hell don’t like being in the dark.”
“Trust me when I say it’s for the better.”
The blood went into Quinn while her own blood came out the other side. He watched nervously, hoping her body wouldn’t have a negative reaction. The blood pressure cuff periodically activated, and the pulse oximeter measured her blood oxygen level.
Milly smoothed her hand over her short grey bob before removing her large glasses and cleaning them with the hem of her sweater jacket. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
“I’ve performed a number of transfusions.”
“Huh. You seem nervous for someone with experience.”
“I’ve helped sickle cell patients. She’s Breed, so she likely won’t have the same adverse reactions. What’s her temperature?”
“Normal.”
Salem rounded the bed and stared at her vitals on the monitor.
Milly adjusted her thick glasses and finally stood up. “Damn. I should’ve smoked a cigarette while I was upstairs.”
“It’s a bad habit. You should quit.”
She buttoned her oversized sweater jacket. “I’m already one foot in the grave. When I kick the bucket, you’ll be all this town has.” She shook her head at Quinn, who had tubes and wires coming out of her. “God help ’em all.”
Salem tucked the electric blanket over her in case her temperature dropped. He wasn’t sure what complications he might face. Every so often, he flushed the catheter with saline to prevent clotting.
As stressful as this dance was, Salem hadn’t felt this alive in years. When he wasn’t changing the bags, flushing the line, or checking her vitals, he was sitting at her side, holding her hand and pushing peaceful emotions into her.
Twenty minutes passed with no negative reaction.
Then hours passed.
After Milly had gone upstairs for a cigarette break, he sat alone. Because Quinn was sedated, it was important to monitor her breathing and vitals. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, her blood oxygen levels, her heart rate.
When the door to the adjacent room suddenly opened, he shot to his feet.
Pyro strolled in, holding a bag of blood. “You didn’t come for the last one. We didn’t use this many.”
“If I’m doing a blood transfusion, I’m doing it right.”
She set it on a metal tray and vanished. Salem’s heart rate spiked when she appeared on the rolling stool beside him. Pyro tapped her fingers on the equipment and grinned.
“Don’t do that.”
She stuck out her bottom lip and rolled away. “I’m bored. All that woman gives me is gingerbread and tea. What is her obsession with cake? You know what she brought me last night to eat? Food on a plastic plate. Mushy meat, mushy vegetables.”
Salem flicked a glance into the dark room next door. “Is your friend still in there?”
Pyro used her gift to jump to the other side of the bed. “He likes to pretend he can sleep.”
“How’s that possible when he can hear us?”
Pyro’s eyes followed the blood going from the bag all the way into Quinn’s chest. “He mutes the sounds and wears his silly little eye mask.” She leaned over the bed and studied Quinn closely.
“I can see why you like her. Pretty hair. There are lots of other pretty girls who aren’t sick.
So much trouble for one person.” Pyro lifted the thin tube of blood. “This is me going into her, isn’t it?”
Irritated she might pull something loose, he rounded the bed and snatched her wrist.
Pyro disappeared from his grasp. “Where is the book you promised me? I want my book.”
He whirled around and spotted her crouched on top of a freestanding cabinet, her electric-blue hair hanging forward as she stared daggers at him from above.
She looked like a kid up there in her black leggings and a plaid skirt, but he reminded himself that it wasn’t a good idea to upset an ancient who likely possessed more powers than he could fathom.
Salem crossed the room and opened his black bag. After reaching in, he tossed the book across the room.
Pyro moved like lightning and caught it. She turned away, flipping through the pages. “Where?”
“Page seventy-two. There’s another reference in the back where it’s dog-eared.
” He returned to Quinn and wondered if maybe Pyro wasn’t right.
The book didn’t specify it was a full blood exchange, only that the patient received blood directly from a line going into the recipient.
They had performed bloodletting, a crude way to drain the patient’s blood.
Since the first procedure had taken place before advances in medicine, this wasn’t an exact science.
Pyro held the book up while pacing back and forth. Then she slowly tore out twelve pages. “Any more?”
“No. I read it five times.”
She flicked a glance at Quinn. “I believe you.” Pyro tossed the book at the foot of the bed. “Keep the rest. I only want these pages.”
Salem had done his best to keep Milly and Pyro separated. She’d had a few interactions since Milly brought them food, juice, and blankets. But Pyro avoided any conversation.
Pyro jumped onto the stool, landing on her stomach and sailing across the room. “Where can I go tonight and make good trouble?”
“Home.”
She laughed hysterically. “I make trouble there all the time. No fun. Where’s a club or bar? I want to see your nightlife when we’re done.”
He imagined her showing up at Dragonfly’s and tearing up the place. Atticus would call the Council. “I’m sure you must be exhausted after this large donation. A friend of mine has a private jet. Would you rather have a whole plane to yourself or travel commercial again?”
She hopped off the stool, and her eyes lit up. “A private jet, all for me?”
“I can even arrange for a gourmet meal to be delivered before takeoff. Champagne, cigarettes—whatever you want.”
Pyro gave a mischievous laugh. “What about a masseuse?”
He could’ve paid for a commercial flight, but ever since they landed, Salem couldn’t shake the feeling that Pyro would be better off flying back alone.
It was strange, especially given he hadn’t seen her once during the uneventful flight.
In any case, a private jet was the least he could do if this cure was successful.
Pyro clutched her papers, a smile painted on her youthful face as she leaned over Quinn again. “Maybe my blood will give her a little color. Your girlfriend is so pale she’s almost transparent.”
“She’s my wife.”
Pyro strode over to him and stood on her tiptoes. “If you two are still married in five hundred years, and she hasn’t gone to prison for murder, call me. We’ll fly to Italy and reminisce about the old days over pasta and wine.” She patted his chest. “On me.”
Salem barely blinked before Pyro vanished and the door to the adjoining room slammed shut.
He took off his white coat and draped it over a chair.
After stopping the outgoing blood and disconnecting the line to the empty donor bag, Salem decided it was time.
It might be a good idea to keep that extra bag of blood handy in case she needed more, but he didn’t like keeping her sedated any longer than needed. The hard part was yet to come.
When Salem opened the door to the hallway, he regarded the seats to the left and noticed Milly holding a Styrofoam cup to her chin while talking with his packmates. Her large glasses weighed on the tip of her nose.
He locked eyes with Tak. “It’s time.”
Milly broke away from the group and weaved past him into the room.
Lucian nudged the stranger sitting next to him.
A man with dark brown hair and eyes leaned forward, and that’s when Salem met the second piece of the puzzle who might save Quinn.
The scar traveling down the left side of his face from temple to cheek stood out.
It appeared fresh, which didn’t make sense since a Mage could heal.
When the Mage rose from his seat, it was obvious he had been through serious trauma.
Scars marked the other side of his face and neck.