Page 6 of Monsters and Mocha

The bane of her academic existence approached, all delicate blonde curls and feminine curves and big blue eyes with long eyelashes that had left many of their male classmates falling at her feet. Darby could not have cared less about her appearance, if not for the fact that behind her angelic looks Lacey hid a keen, sharp mind that seemed to specialize in creating barbs that drew attention to their disparity in appearance at every turn. Darby spread her lips into an equally false smile. “What do you need, Lacey?”

Lacey gave her a once-over, one perfectly shaped brow rising with amusement. “From you? Nothing. Dr. Aulers needs Fransten for a consult.” She straightened the sleeves of her blue medical jacket, eying Darby’s and clucking her tongue. “Honestly, Darby. You look like you’ve been elbow deep in a bucket of blood. I’m surprised Fransten has you out here cleaning scalpels; you can’t even keep your uniform clean.”

Darby bit back the retort on the tip of her tongue. Lacey wasn’t wrong—her sleeves and the front of her jacket were stained with blood—but she also hadn’t been the one literally holding men together in some cases.

“Dr. Fransten is finishing up with a patient right now. I’ll let him know.”

“No need.” Fransten appeared from behind the curtain that had been set up in one corner of the room to give the semblance of at least some privacy. He dipped his hands into the bowl of warm water that Darby had placed for him, since the sink was now hidden behind two rows of patients. He scrubbed the blood from between his fingers. “You can tell Aulers I’ll be right there.”

With a wave of her fingers, Lacey disappeared back into the hall. Fransten approached Darby, drying his hands on a towel. “The patient will need another dose of anesthetic and then transfer to a recovery room.”

“Yes, sir. Happy gas?”

He shook his head. “We’re nearly out. I’d rather use you while we can.”

Her tired body protested at the thought of using more magic. Even with as careful and efficient as she had been, she was nearly at her limit and her eyes started to cross if she thought too hard about the tangle of magic strings she was holding. But rather than complain, she nodded.

“Understood.”

Fransten looked at her sympathetically. For all her frustrations at his strict limitations, the brilliant doctor was a decent mentor who did truly care about the people under his care. He patted her shoulder. “If it’s too much, we’ll find another way.”

She immediately straightened. “No, no. It’s fine. I just worry about what will happen when my shift is over.”

She might have the finesse and concentration to keep dozens of magical links flowing, but she wasn’t nearly strong enough to support them from such a distance as her home would be. It was hard enough moving to the next room.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Fransten sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “It may be that we’ll need fewer doses of it by the end of the night.” He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on the captain for several long moments. He turned back to Darby with a questioning look. “He’s still with us?”

She shrugged, pretending to be suddenly very interested in the arrangement of surgical tools on her tray. “He seems to be the stubborn type.”

“Shelton.” Fransten’s voice was kind, but it held an edge of warning.

She looked up guiltily.

“I understand that it’s hard to lose a patient, but keeping him alive artificially is only prolonging his suffering and draining you faster.”

“I’m not⁠—”

“You’re not mixing healing magic with your anesthetic?”

Her jaw worked back and forth. When she didn’t answer, Fransten spoke quietly.

“As unfortunate as it is, death is a part of life. Sometimes there’s nothing we can do.”

“But we didn’t even try!” The angry answer burst out of her before she could stop it. Darby immediately looked back down at her hands.

“There was nothing to try. Medicine has taken great strides in the last century, but it’s not as if we can cobble together bodies or build him new limbs. We are still limited; we can protect life but not create it. He’s too far gone; there’s not enough of him left to save. The least you can do is allow him to die with dignity, rather than prolonging the inevitable. You can’t save everyone, Shelton. The sooner you learn that the happier you’ll be.”

Darby nodded as he left, more because it was expected of her than that she agreed with him. Her eyes stared ahead, unfocused, as the plans and scribbled drawings on her desk swirled in her mind. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she lifted her gaze to the captain, all at once making a choice that could have disastrous consequences if it went wrong. It went against every bone of her rule-following, achievement-focused self, but she couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

Fransten might not be able to save him.

But I think I can.

CHAPTER FIVE

DARBY

Aflash of lightning brightened the small office, followed by the deafening crash of thunder that rolled away into the distance. Fat raindrops plinked against the glass, driven by the autumn winds that were rehearsing for the winter storms to come. The ticking of the large clock in the corner joined the performance, supported by the scratching of Darby’s pen across the papers on her desk, the sound made all the louder by the relative silence of the hospital beyond. A knock on the doorframe drew her attention, and Darby looked up to find Dr. Fransten standing in the open door, his tall narrow frame silhouetted by the hallway behind him. His eyebrows rose. “You’re still here?”