I swallowed the dryness in my throat as I went into the room and up to Jordyn’s bedside.
Wendy followed on my heels, staying at the bottom of the bed.
“Will she be able to hear me?” I asked.
“She might be able to hear sounds and voices. But she won’t be able to respond. Talk to her. Let her know you’re with her. It might help her recovery.”
I held my sister’s hand while her chest rose and fell. The vibration of the machine kept her breathing and my heart beating.
“Again, Dr. Vieira will go over everything with you. If you need me, I’ll be at the desk right outside.”
After Wendy left, I shuddered violently as if someone had thrown me into the cold waters off the coast of Antarctica. I shouldn’t have put all the responsibility on Jordyn to protect two infants against bloodsuckers. What the fuck had I been thinking?
“I’m so sorry this happened to you. I should’ve been there with you.”
Stop blaming yourself. You couldn’t have predicted what would happen.
Regardless, guilt and regret rode me hard, punching me in the gut and twisting my insides until I couldn’t breathe.
Inhaling deeply, I dragged the only chair in the room from the corner to the side of the bed and sat down.
“I promise, sis, if you make it, I will make sure you don’t go through anything like this again.” I knew I couldn’t exactly stick to that promise, but I would sure as hell try.
I would give anything to see her happy and away from vampires and any supernatural creatures. Sadly, neither she nor I could run away or disappear. As Agnes had written in her letter to my mom, we couldn’t ignore who we were, where we came from, or the supernatural world around us. If we did, we would put ourselves and our loved ones at risk.
“Well, sis. I’m officially a witch.” I giggled through tears. “Can you believe that? I can’t.”
I was anxious to know her DNA makeup and if she could be a witch like me. For a while, she had no desire to know her DNA makeup. Mainly because she’d seen what I’d gone through. However, she’d recently expressed that she’d wanted to know if she had the same blood type as me—Vel negative—the one that made it possible for her to get pregnant by a vampire. My sister had the hots for Sawyer, the Vampire Navy SEAL’s tech guru. So she felt that if she wanted to sleep with him, then it was best she knew.
I didn’t know much about him except that the handsome vampire with kaleidoscope-colored eyes seemed like a genuine guy—honest, quiet, intelligent, and a perfect match for my sister.
I glanced up at the high ceiling as if my mom was up there, looking down over us. I was sure she was. When I’d died and seen my mother, she’d told me she was watching over me.
“Mom, if you’re listening, please help Jordyn through this. I want her to be happy. I want her to find a life where she can settle down, marry, and have kids.” Jordyn wanted little rug rats running around.
Dr. Vieira’s voice filtered in through the open door before he entered. The intelligent and caring resident doctor, who was an amazing vampire inside and out, was wearing a surgical cap and scrubs.
I popped up from the chair. “Dr. Vieira,” I said on a sigh.
He gave me a quick hug and studied me with weary brown eyes. “Welcome home. You had all of us worried.”
Warmth spread through my chest at the realization that he cared. “It’s good to be here. Of course, I wish it was under better circumstances.”
He rounded the bed. “Agreed. But your sister is a fighter.”
“That’s the Aberdeen way,” I teased.
He removed his surgical cap and stuffed it into the pocket of his scrubs. “Your sister has a long road to recovery. The next couple of days will be critical. We removed two bullets. One had nicked her lung, and we pulled the other one from her lower back.” He pointed to a spot on his body between his spine and waist. “She also took a severe blow to the back of her body, including her head. She had a small brain bleed that complicated things. The fact that she made it through surgery is a miracle, in my book.”
Holy hell. He was right. A miracle for sure.
“The coma is necessary to give her body time to heal,” he said. “As she improves, we’ll slowly pull her out of it. But I do want to prepare you, Layla. It’s possible she might not have use of her legs.” He held up his hand. “Jordyn’s lead surgeon, Dr. Banks, feels she might have some nerve damage that could be temporary around the lower spine, both from the bullet and the blunt-force trauma to her back.”
Despite the wordtemporaryin that sentence, I practically fell into the chair, pressing my knuckles into my chest, willing the prickly pain to go away. I didn’t think I could shed any more tears. Yet there I was, silently crying.
“She doesn’t deserve any of this.” Then something hit me. “What about the healing blood?” The magical potion had sped up my recovery time and worked wonders after my C-section.
“I have given her a dose,” he said. “That will help the wounds. But I can’t say the same for nerve damage or the swelling in her back. Time will tell, of course. From here it’s up to Jordyn.”
