“They are Fae from Magmell—”
“I said no Fae. Not now. Not ever. We can’t help Fae,” I say, ripping my dictation box’s cord from its docking station and slamming it into the trash can with violence.
“Youcan’t help Fae,” Bracken says just above a whisper.
“And you can?”
“They want to deliver twins,” Bracken says with more heat. “I can do that without metal equipment. There’s no need to deny them when it will be perfectly safe.”
“Why do they want to deliver twins here? Think about it. Twins never happen in Magmell, so they come to us. Why? Because complications are likely—that’s why. They feel safe here because I can perform a C-section with my eyes closed. Unfortunately, my robotics would kill a Fae with one touch inside them. Tell them no. Get rid of them.”
“Do you forget that I’m as trained as you are? That I was your lab partner all through college and medical school? Yes, you are the surgical phenom…but that’s because we made you. You can do a C-section with your eyes closed, but guess what? So can I!”
“With what? Plastic cutlery? It’s not about your skills versus mine. It’s about not having the equipment and protocols to help them. What if someone accidentally uses a needle to start an IV or an epidural? Mother and twins would die instantly—”
“I will watch them twenty-four seven in a quarantined room with signs everywhere—”
“Since when is sign compliance one hundred percent?” I reply with an eye roll. “Chances are the twins will need weeks of specialized nursery care. What if they need breathing tubes, heart valves, or some emergency replacement at birth? Do we letthem die or attempt the surgery without metal? We don’t know what’s in the steel alloys of our equipment. I doubt there will be time before she gives birth to find out—considering she already knows it's twins and got permission to come to our realm.”
“She’s due in three weeks, so the twins will be here any day now.”
“See? What safety protocols and training can you possibly do? Do you want one of us to kill a newborn? Say what you want, but I know that would destroy you.”
“We’re their last hope,” he says, dropping his head into his hands. “How am I going to tell them no?”
“Forward their email address, and I’ll do it.”
“You can’t crush their hopes of a safe delivery with an email, Frank,” Drake says, folding her arms across her chest. “I agree with you, but maybe they need a little—”
“Fine, give me the phone number of where they’re staying. I’ll call them and listen to their cries. Anything else? Or can I go find this human that’s avoiding my OR like it’s infested with vampire bats.”
“Meeting adjourned,” Bracken says to the floor. I hate dashing his hopes, but I’d rather do that than break his spirit.
Chapter 4
Alette
If you think Haunted Health is dusty and spooky on the outside with its towers and spires, the exterior’s got nothing on its ventilation system. Giant fans threaten to suck me into their lethal blades if I near the exterior walls. The smell of death and decay sticks to my skin if I venture too low. The top floor shakes under the weight of the gargoyle security guards perched on the roof. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they’re teaching them to tap dance. Otherwise, the vent shafts prove to be a little-lady-superhighway.
If only I could live in the vents forever and say goodbye to pack life.
So much for asking my parents to go to Leader Grant about the wellness camp. They decided my future while I cried on the outhouse floor. That’s another thing Haunted Health has over my home—indoor plumbing. I had a slight tinge from all the excitement, which I was certain would grow into a flare, so I stepped into an empty locker room to relieve myself. By the time the hospital employee was finished in the shower, I—and the evidence I was there—was flushed away. With the pack willing to pay the price of my surgeries, you’d think they would spring for indoor plumbing.
I’d even share a bathroom.
But no. They decided I should be carved like a deer carcass and stitched back together into some kind of monster. Maybe that’s their motivation after all. If I’m too monstrous for the human world, maybe I’ll quit asking to visit it. So not fair. Why should a pack leader dictate my life when the pack never includes me? I’m too different to fit in, but too similar to be an individual. I swear I can’t win.
Gurgle.Oh no, not again. I lucked out with the almost empty locker room. Why do I rile myself up? How stupid do I have to be to trigger a flare before finding the way out? If I hid in the landscaping, I could go behind a bush. Not now. If I poo in the vents, the weres in the building will trace the smell to my soiled underpants. What’s worse than your pack talking about your pooping? Your pack tracking you via your poo smell.
Looks like I found a new low.
Go me.Gurgle.
Okay, this isn’t so bad. Here’s my chance to try some of those breathing exercises I saw on the human’s internet.Inhale the calm. Exhale the tightness in my guts. Inhale relief as I visualize my intestines slowing their violent contractions.
Maybe it is bullshit. No, I must commit to making it work!
Instead of running to the nearest toilet, I sit calmly and fold my legs into a cross-legged position. My hands don’t want to let my belly go, but I force them to relax on my knees. Touching my third finger to my thumbnails, I close my eyes. The churning in my belly reduces its acidic sloshing. I release my thoughts of impending doom. It’s working!Visualize the sea—flat calm—sun glinting off the surface—listen to the waves.Would calm seas have waves? I don’t see how. Then where’s the wave crashing coming from? What does the middle of the ocean sound like?
