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Eryn calmed enough to look to the surgeon, the rest of her colleagues. “Please. I’ll explain what I can later, but Vann needs help now.”
The surgeon didn’t flinch. Within seconds of her work, a deep scowl furrowed her brow. She moved fast, faster, trying to keep up with Vann’s body. As she moved to cauterize an area, the bleeding slowed, some healing before she could reach a spot. Slowing, closing, another internal wound healed itself before the surgeon could get to it.
Adaptive and brilliant, the surgeon seemed to realize Vann was… different. She chased the most dire-looking areas, ensuring they healed correctly as his body repaired itself in her wake. No time to clean the wounds, she moved fast to streamline his own healing.
His arms twitched. He shifted on the exam table.
The surgeon growled, “Sedate him now. He’s going to tear the wounds open faster than I can stitch him up.”
Checking the lines, the IV site, the bags, the anesthesiologist adjusted more settings. “I have been. He should be snowed. If I give him more—”
Bennett rumbled behind them, “Dose him up. His metabolism is rapid and his tolerance unmatched.”
When Vann started to writhe, Eryn squeezed his hand and whispered in his ear, “Hold still. They’re almost done. We’ll go home soon.”
The sedatives hardly touched him as consciousness emerged.
Eyes closed, not conscious enough to understand, he cried out in pain.
The anesthesiologist’s eyes widened, and he increased the dose again.
As the surgeon closed each wound from the inside out, Vann’s vitals… stabilized.
Frustration seemed to nip at Vann’s furrowed brow, and he ripped off his oxygen mask.
“It’s okay. Keep still.” Eryn cradled his cheek and whispered reassurances.
He stilled, and his eyes sealed shut against the pain.
Eryn motioned for a nurse and got a wet towel. Carefully, she wiped the blood from around his face, whispering for him to stay with her and be calm.
Not quite conscious, but he leaned into her hand.
Wounds closed, vitals stabilized, the surgeon stepped back and stared.
The entire room was silent.
Bennett blocked the door. No longer Vann’s sweet, hot friend, he was a terrifying predator… yet she wouldn’t have wanted to refuse him anything. A wave of soothing intrigue radiated from him. Teeth bared, body tense, fierce, he was someone else entirely.
As enthralling as he was threatening. Bennett flicked his tongue over a sharp canine tooth. “Anyone says a word about what happened, I’ll fucking kill you. All of you, until this hospital is shut down because there’s no one left to run it. Keep your mouths shut, however, and you’ll see an anonymous donation that will pay for a full trauma wing with all the fixings, plus enough to give you all cushy bonuses for your hard work.”
The only one brave enough to even speak, Karen asked hoarsely, “What are you?”
At his side, Quinn said brightly, “We’re the ones who are going to make sure you don’t need a trauma wing.”
Bennett gave Eryn a long look, and Quinn and he turned and walked out.
Holden pushed back into the room as they left, and crossed to Eryn. The entire room looked to her to explain what the hell had just happened.
Security was nowhere to be seen. The special security experts that Vann had mysteriously conjured.
“Please,” Eryn begged, searching for answers she didn’t have.
Eyes heavy, Holden shrugged helplessly. “Eryn, I can’t—”
“You can, and you will. All of you,” she said fiercely, and slid her hand down to hold Vann’s. “Lost Beach isn’t normal.”
Gazes searching each other, no one disagreed.
