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She takes me to a private room. When she turns to me, her expression is grave and my heart sinks. “Your wife is Vanessa Bedalia?” At my nod, she continues. “I’m Dr. Davina Collins-Smith. Vanessa was in full cardiac arrest when she arrived, but she has stabilized, and she’s being taken for an electrocardiogram and blood testing.”
My chest squeezes and I rub a hand over it. “What does that mean? Will Vanessa be okay?”
Her tone is professional but caring as she says, “We’ll know more soon, but I do need to ask you a few questions.” I nod and she continues, “Does Vanessa have a history of cardiac dysfunction?”
“No, not so far as I know,” I tell her. “She’s always been extremely healthy.”
Dr. Collins-Smith nods, then continues, “Any family history of heart failure?”
“No, none.” I’ve kept close tabs on the little family Vanessa has and as far as I know, none have had problems with their heart.
Dr. Collins-Smith writes down my answer. “I suspect Vanessa has an undiagnosed underlying cardiac dysfunction.” At my frown, she adds, “There’s something going wrong with her heart, but we need to do some testing before we can come up with a treatment plan.” Her eyes search mine and I see sadness in them. “I’ll have you taken to Vanessa’s room when she’s finished with the ECG.” She leaves and I watch helplessly, my wolf clambering inside me, urging me to tear up the hospital and find my mate.
Chapter 36
Entourage
KEENAN
Thump, thump, whoosh. Thump, thump, whoosh.
I lay on the bed next to Vanessa in my wolf form, my good ear pressed to her chest. Dr. Collins-Smith told me the ‘whoosh’ sound shouldn’t be there. That it’s indicative of the damage to her heart muscles when the organ failed.
Dr. Collins-Smith has no explanation for why a perfectly healthy 27-year-old with no history of heart problems suddenly had a massive heart attack, but she assured me it happens. Not often, but it’s possible.
I know better. It’s the curse.
I look up as the door opens and Lennox strides in, a woman on his heels. She’s short, much shorter than Lennox, with black hair and blue bangs. His partner, Charlie Lopez.
When he sees me, he stops her. “Give him a minute.” She leaves and he says, “Need to talk to your human, brother.”
I drop from the bed to the floor, careful not to jostle Vanessa. She’s heavily sedated and hasn’t woken up yet, but she could. Shifting into human, I reach for my jeans. “Thanks for coming.”
He dips his head. “Of course.” His gaze moves to Vanessa. “I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.” Once I’m decent, he opens the door and invites Charlie in.
Holding out her hand, she says, “Charlie Lopez, Fire Inspector.”
I take her hand, surprised as a bolt of awareness goes through me. “Keenan Wolven-North.” I look to my brother who shakes his head. He doesn’t want to talk about the monumental event taking place. The fact that the diminutive dark-haired woman with the serious face is his fated mate. I try to reach into her brain to find out if she knows, but I’m met with a protective wall of blue smoke.
“Not your business, brother.” His gaze is hard and I back away. He’s right, it’s not my business, and I have my own crisis to attend to. He sits in the chair next to Vanessa’s bed. “How is she?”
I clear my throat, trying to speak past the ache that threatens to choke me. “Heart failure. There’s too much damage for the possibility of recovery. Her doctor is putting her on a donor list for a new heart. She’ll be near the top since she’s young, healthy and in an acute situation, but…” I drift off, the doctor’s words ringing in my head.
“But she doesn’t have time to wait,” Lennox finishes, pulling the words from my head.
“A week at most.”
“I’m so sorry,” Charlie murmurs, her sad gaze on Vanessa before swinging to me. “We’ll find the people responsible for this and we’ll stop them.”
I nod, but don’t otherwise acknowledge her words. Finding the people who bombed the theatre won’t help Vanessa.
“We need to ask you a few questions,” she persists.
I suspected that was why she came. Lennox wants to support me, but he and Charlie are the lead investigators in a fire linked to ASHRA. They’ll likely be assigned to the bombing if the events are linked. “What do you need from me?”
She pulls out a notebook, flipping it open and yanking a pen from the binding. “Where were you when the explosion went off? What did you see? What did you hear?”
I give her as much information as I can. At times she interrupts me to dig deeper, to raise my awareness of the small details easily overlooked. The depth of her questions impresses me. She’s clearly a professional with a good understanding of the importance of minutiae. When she finishes, she tucks her pen into the notebook and closes it.
