Nathan Nourie flew to his workplace carrying a pillowcase containing a bottle of wine in his strong beak. Luckily Sly had left in such a hurry, he hadn’t locked his door and Morgaine was able to direct Nathan to the briefcase holding the stuff they needed.
Never had he thought his job as a morgue attendant would help save someone. Least of all a friend. It occurred to him that for the first time in a long time, he had friends—not just acquaintances. Sly was someone he’d plow through snowy sidewalks for. And he knew Sly or Morgaine would do the same for him. And Gwyneth… Just thinking about her made him smile.
He had to shift into human form and dress quickly. Fortunately, he had found a spot outside the hospital where he could keep a change of clothes. There were the inevitable days he overslept and had to literallyflyto work to get there on time.
Nathan dug his clothing out of their hidey-hole and hopped into his black pants. He struggled into his shirt and ran toward the entrance, still buttoning.
Morgaine had sounded frantic. As he skidded around the corridor, he hoped he’d arrived in time to prevent the daytime attendant from doing any damage. He strong-armed the door to the morgue and strode inside.
Morgaine was draped over a sheet-covered body, wailing. The attendant seemed perturbed and was trying to pry her hands off the gurney.
“Stop,” Nathan ordered.
They both looked up at him, open-mouthed. Morgaine’s cheeks were streaked with real tears. She wasn’t just acting.
Oh, no. Am I too late?
Morgaine gazed at the ceiling and said, “Thank the Goddess!”
“Nathan? What are you doing here?” the attendant asked.
“Taking over.” Nathan grabbed a pair of latex gloves on his way to the supply cabinet. He gathered what he’d need to infuse the wine intravenously. On his way to the hospital, he’d realized that would be the only way to get some of it into Sly’s system.
The other attendant scowled at him. “What the hell are you up to?”
“Saving this man’s life.” Nathan pushed him aside and peeled back the sheet.
Sly lay there immobile and pale. Nathan worked quickly, before the other attendant could call anyone or interfere. Fortunately, he didn’t move. He simply stared at Nathan as if he’d lost his mind. Perhaps he had. How would he explain this later?
There was no time to worry about that. He shoved Sly’s sleeve up, located his large medial vein in the crook of his arm. He quickly took a syringe with the longest, thickest needle he could find and stuck it right through the cork. Then he drew the syringe full of wine and injected it directly into Sly’s vein.
Nothing happened for a few seconds. Just as he was beginning to despair, Sly sat up and opened his eyes.
The other attendant reeled backward. “Jesus Christ!”
Sly blinked a few times and looked around. Then he glanced down at his body and the sheet covering him from the waistdown. He yanked the sheet up over his bare feet and saw the toe tag. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”
He slid off the gurney and walked toward the frightened attendant.
“What the hell are you, man? A zombie?”
Sly held his gaze for a moment and the guy’s jaw went slack. “You didnotsee a body on that gurney. You didnotsee a woman or one of your coworkers here this morning. Everything is as it should be on this quiet morning in the hospital morgue.”
He ripped off the toe tag and turned toward Nathan. “Now, where are my shoes?”
Nathan pointed at what amounted to a laundry hamper. Sly walked over to it, fished out his shoes and put them on.
“Thanks Nathan. Morgaine, I assume you were responsible for calling him, so I owe you a debt of gratitude too.”
She burst into tears and hugged him. Then she rushed to Nathan and hugged him too. He gave her a few awkward pats on her back.
“There, there.” Isn’t that what people were supposed to say after a crisis? What else should he say? “Everything’s all right now.”
“Thank you,” she whimpered. “Thank you so much. I’ll never forget this.”
“Please don’t get mushy.” He didn’t know what to do with that. He had never saved anyone before. It felt pretty good though. Damn good, in fact.
Chapter twenty-one
