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We arrived at the hospital. After hours, the place seemed almost calm.
“All right, where’s my backup,” she muttered as she pulled up to the curb along the emergency drive. At this hour, that was probably the only entrance that would be open. I was out of the car and running for the doors before Hardin even stopped the car. “Kitty, wait!”
I didn’t. Incongruously, the place was brightly lit, like a beacon. The rest of the world was so dark right now.
Inside, I hit the linoleum and didn’t stop. I looked for a sign that would tell me how to get to the main part of the hospital, and where I could find Mom’s room. I must have looked dangerous because a uniformed security guard, hand on his belt, moved to intercept me.
I realized: I could knock him over. Let out a little bit of Wolf and knock him aside. But I didn’t. I begged.
“I need to get in, one of your patients may be in danger! Please!”
Hardin had followed close behind me and flashed her badge. “Let her through.”
The guard stepped aside, and I ran past him. Vaguely, I was aware of Hardin following. I didn’t wait for her. I only had one thought in my head: Please, let her be safe.
Up some stairs, through a door, down a hall, and around a corner, we came to her room. I smelled her. The door was open, and it was dark. The bed and its occupant were visible only by pale light bleeding from the hallway. Mom was asleep, her head tilted slightly on the pillow, arms resting on the blanket, tangled in a mess of IV tubes and wires. Around the odors of illness and medication, I smelled her. She was breathing, her heart pounded steadily, she was alive. But pale. Her face was lined, even in sleep.
Sitting in a chair by her bedside, tilted with a view toward the door, watching her sleep, was Arturo.
Blood throbbed in my skull, and I thought I might faint.
“How did you get in here?” I said, my voice shaky. This could go very badly. “What are you doing?” I’d been told that the prohibition against vampires entering without invitation didn’t apply to public, commercial property. Apparently, the hospital room was public space.
His gaze shifted to me almost lazily, unconcerned. He struck such an incongruous picture: he sprawled in the plastic chair like it was a throne, one leg stretched before him, both elbows resting on the thin arms. He wore tailored slacks, a white shirt buttoned at the collar, and a suit jacket. On him, the ensemble looked formal, elegant. He was a Victorian gentleman landed in the modern age.
Hardin joined me, blocking light as she stood in the doorway. She held her gun aimed at the vampire. No, it wasn’t a gun. It was a hand-sized crossbow, with a wooden shaft loaded.
“Don’t move. I’ll shoot,” Hardin said, authoritative and coplike. Arturo appeared unconcerned.
“Detective Hardin, I’d like you to rest for a moment,” Arturo said. He spoke slowly, with an almost musical tone. He’d caught her gaze. The two were looking into each other’s eyes like they were the only people in the world.
I knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the vampires.
“Lower your weapon, please,” he said. And she did. She looked relaxed, but her face held a quizzical expression, her brow slightly furrowed, like some part of her wondered why she was obeying him. Some part of her still held on to herself. Nonetheless, she’d fallen under his spell.
“Arturo, stop it,” I said.
“Detective Hardin, step into the hallway for a moment. Lean against the wall and rest. Thank you.”
Hardin slipped out the door, slumping against the wall as if she really had decided to rest there a moment.
I was all alone with him. My ill mother and him. Quickly I wiped a tear away. It was all over. All of it was for nothing.
“What do you want?” I whispered.
“I only want to talk,” he said. “We’re both safe here. We can’t do battle here.”
“You—you won’t hurt her?” I was crying anxious, silent tears, and I hated that I was doing it. I felt so weak and helpless.
Slowly, absently almost, he shook his head. “I could save her, if you like.”
He could drain her, turn her, and in
three days she’d become like him. Invincible, immortal, cured.
“So could I. I offered. She refused.”
“She’s a wise woman.”
