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But the reality was, Nick’s team wouldn’t have called in Calla if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. If you’re a paranormal being and you need a vampire to save your life, you’re in serious trouble.
She and Tarron followed Nick’s daughter to the new building she’d spoken of. Etched into the stonework itself was the word SANCTUARY. As they pushed through the glass doors and walked inside, she thought the name was fitting. Warm and inviting, this did indeed look like a place dedicated to helping others find peace.
There was no time to appreciate their surroundings or the important work being done there, however. They got on an elevator and rode it to the hospital floor at the top, then got off. A team of doctors and nurses was waiting for the helicopter’s arrival, and none too patiently. A blond male nurse was pacing the hallway, clearly anxious. The second he spotted Selene, he trotted over to her.
“Was anyone else injured?”
“Phoenix is fine, Noah,” she said. “Dad was the only one seriously hurt.”
Noah winced, appearing guilty. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . .”
“No need to apologize. Believe me, I get it. I was worried about Zan, too. But you can’t let it get to you every single time they go out, or you’ll go nuts.”
“I know, but it’s hard.” His voice was quiet.
Was Noah mated to Phoenix? If not, the two were apparently close.
“It gets harder. Trust me.”
That made him chuckle. “Thanks. Your pep talks are the bombdiggity.”
Before Selene could reply, a rumble from outside came closer and closer, until the sound was almost like thunder. It was right above them, and Calla realized the new building must have a helipad for emergencies such as this one. Everyone mobilized, and another nurse urged a protesting Selene, as well as Tarron, to a waiting room down the hall.
“Come with us,” a female doctor said to Calla.
She recognized the doctor from the party. Mackenzie Grant was mated to the Sorcerer/panther shifter Kalen Black. They had a cute new baby boy named Kai. Those facts rushed through her head, and she thought of how she’d been smiling and socializing with these people merely days ago. To be in the middle of a serious personal crisis of this sort with them now, especially involving Nick, was strange and disorienting.
But there was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be when he required her help.
The OR was ready when the trauma team filed in, every surface shiny and each instrument gleaming. They wouldn’t stay that way for long, though. Calla clasped her hands to stop their shaking while they waited. Soon, heavy footsteps came down the hallway, moving fast. She heard a gurney being pushed along, orders barked.
And then several men from Nick’s team burst through the OR’s doors with their commander. She gasped at the horrible sight of his shirt and body armor soaked in blood, a gaping hole almost exactly centered in his chest. How could anyone survive a wound like that one? If he was human, he would’ve been dead already.
Dr. Grant moved aside for another female doctor, who immediately took charge. This one had shorter, straighter hair than Mackenzie, but it still brushed her collar. DR. MELINA MALLORY, her tag read. Calla recalled meeting the prickly woman before also.
Noah swiftly ran a tube down Nick’s throat so the respirator could breathe for him. Then he removed the commander’s vest and used a pair of scissors to cut his T-shirt up the middle. The ruined material was discarded and the nurse began to wipe the area. Dr. Mallory quickly assessed the damage.
Wearing latex gloves and grabbing some sort of probe, she began to dig inside the wound, which made Calla’s stomach lurch dangerously.
“Single gunshot wound, one punctured lung. The bullet is still lodged in there, close to his heart, so I’ll get that out before we attempt any healing.”
Dr. Mallory’s voice was so cold and clinical, it made Calla shiver. But the woman seemed good at her job, and she took a small amount of comfort from that. She watched, barely breathing, as Nick fought for his life. And he was fighting, hard. She sensed that even though they weren’t Bonded, and it made her proud of him.
After what seemed an eternity, yet was probably only a couple of minutes, the doctor fished out a large bloody bullet. “Silver,” she announced. “Those rotten bastards.”
Calla couldn’t agree more. Noah held out a container and the doctor placed the bullet in it.
Noah sealed the container and held it up. “Rush it to the lab for tests?”
“Absolutely. I don’t like the looks of this tissue around where the bullet was sitting. It’s dying too quickly.”
Calla’s hand went over her mouth. Only her desire to see Nick get well prevented her from running from the room. “My blood can’t heal flesh that’s already dead.”
The doctor gave her a sharp look. “Of course not. I’m going to clean away the necrotized tissue first.” Dr. Mallory continued her work, completely focused. Once she was done, she stepped back and nodded to Calla. “All right. Let’s get some of your blood into him and speed along his recovery.”
On shaking legs, she stepped up to the gurney and peered down at Nick’s chest. Cleaned up, the wound didn’t gape quite as much as she’d first believed, but then again, perhaps it had started healing now that the silver had been removed. In any case, he needed help. He was pale from blood loss.
Noah offered to make the cut on her wrist with a scalpel. “It’ll hurt less than using your fangs or something.”
