Chapter 119

Art POV

Our Blessed Goddess Medical Center - Surgical Waiting Room Floor 3

Too many minds were pressing in on me to focus on the ones treating Ethan Flores. My head ached with a throbbing insistence I couldn't ignore. I slouched further in my chair while tuning out as much of my surroundings as I could.

All the pacing of my companions had to be ignored or I'd get ill watching them move. All the worries of those with me had to be pushed down or I'd be too distracted to recognize a potential threat before it was on top of us. All my own thoughts had to focus on my assignment---I couldn't go back to the Alpha Council with news I'd let an Alpha House heir be maimed or murdered.

Could Ethan Flores be heir to House Campbell?

Omega lives were foreign to my experiences as a wolf and an Alpha Inspector.

Born into an Alpha House, I had grown up as part of the most elite of wolfen society with no direct exposure to omegas except as servants or background noise. I knew more about vampires than I did about omegas---come to that, I knew more about humans than I did omegas.

Rachel practically chased Wright back into the waiting room. His face was a stormcloud of negative emotions. Neither of them spared a glance my way which meant I could count on my headache getting worse from the intensity of their feelings and thoughts.

"Tyler!" Rachel cried, her voice colored red as blood from her anxiety, "Don't just walk away from me!"

Closing my eyes, I let myself reach out to touch the edges of Wright's mind. He had a singular ability to block me and I found myself relaxing a little as I confirmed the wall between his mind and mine was still solid.

I didn't want to feel whatever was making Tyler Wright look angry enough to savage the surgical wing.

"Let him be for a bit, Rachel. Come sit here by me. Tell me something good."

Rachel floundered for a moment. Her emotions bounced from anxious to fearful to angry and back to a neutral state as she decided to let the moment with her mate rest.

"What do you mean? How can I tell you something good when we're getting no answers? I don't know anything more than you do. I probably know less considering how you work."

Any other woman would sound bitter at being kept in the dark, but Rachel's voice held fondness; I knew she wasn't used to being taken care of in her life. She appreciated my efforts to keep her safe while she hated the details I kept to myself.

"Come here," I gestured, hoping to entice her to give in so I could distract her better.

I opened my eyes to watch Rachel float across the waiting area, her feet practically dancing as she made her way to my side. She was graceful for any woman much less a pregnant one. Sometimes I caught a glimpse of the beauty which seemed to entice every Alpha who crossed her path.

Rachel gave me a smile as she settled into the seat next to me, "Why do I think you're up to no good right now?"

I thought about answering the question honestly -I was always up to no good- but knew it wouldn't have the desired effect of putting everyone at ease.

"I'm just trying to take your mind off the wait. This part never gets easier," I said, feeling every bit the fraud I knew I was being as I tried to distract the woman from thoughts of her brother, "Tell me about your music. Have you decided what you're going to do? Tour? Studio only? More television appearances?"

I cared about keeping Rachel calm and Tyler Wright from ripping out my throat. Discussing Rachel's music career took some weight off all of us as any topic was lighter than the situation with Ethan.

"I'm still weighing my options. Honestly, I've been so caught up in everything with my pack allegiance I just---put my music on hold."

Rachel looked chagrined at her lapse; I wondered if she was ever easy on herself. One person could only do as much as they could do in a day. Why did I get the feeling Rachel believed she should be able to do twice in a day what anyone else could?

I'd call it intuition except my head hurt too much, letting me know some of my 'intuition' was the result of unwanted telepathy.

"You've got time. Music is your gift. You'll be---"

"Alpha Inspector?"

Launching myself to my feet, I left Rachel gaping behind me as I went to the surgical attending who'd called for me. His face was dark as was his mind; a peek inside his thoughts showed me nothing except an ocean of blood which caused venom-laced saliva to pool in my mouth.

I swallowed with a grimace of distaste before asking, "What do you know so far? Is he off the table yet?"

"Unfortunately, no. Several complications have come up. The Lycan he was fighting had a kind of anticoagulant toxin on his claws and possibly on his teeth too. We're still not sure. It seems---"

"What does that mean?" Rachel interrupted, standing at my side with her hands on her hips to match the look of frustration on her face, "Tell me what's happening to my brother. In English! I need to know. Please."

The 'please' was offered grudgingly. I thought Rachel was holding together well since this was the first update we'd had on Ethan.

"His blood isn't clotting. The poison may prevent his body from healing if they can't get the bleeding to stop. Is that about right?"

I wasn't a doctor -far from it- but I'd investigated enough cases of murder to know more medicine than the average wolfen.

The hospital staffer looked grateful for my understanding even if Rachel didn't.

He nodded, "Yes. That's right. The clotting is a problem because his body won't heal any of his wounds if he just keeps bleeding. We have options. They're just not good ones. All of them are considered to be 'extraordinary measures'. Do you know what that means?"

"It means you need her permission to go through with them. Excuse me, Doctor---?"

"Forest," he said, flushing as he offered a hand to shake, "I'm sorry. I get caught up in the procedure and forget personal protocol. I'm Doctor Forest. I'm the assisting surgical resident on Ethan's case. Doctors Yusuf and Scott are performing the main procedures. We need to clean his blood or replace it or possibly both. Will you give consent?"

Blood was the elixir of life and the bane of my existence.

Ethan Flores was in very bad shape if they were talking about replacing his entire body's blood volume to get him healing again.

Quickly thinking through the options I was aware of for dealing with blood poisoning, I realized they would either have to use a rapid transfuser or dialysis or a combination of both to pump clean blood into Ethan while pulling his dirty blood out for cleaning.

"Where is the blood coming from?" I asked before Rachel could respond.

"We have donor blood available for all patients. Ethan would be given whole units which are guaranteed to be wolfen. He shouldn't experience any shock from the transfusions."

The implication lingering was Ethan would experience shock from something else. I only knew a little about dialysis machines. I knew they pulled the blood out, ran it through filtering, and pumped it back into the patient after it was 'cleaned.'

I knew it was expensive and uncommon for supernaturals.

I didn't know what risks were associated with werewolves who were given dialysis.

"What kind of side effects are you hoping he won't have?"

Rachel had started to tremble at my side; Tyler Wright stepped into my peripheral vision to pull Rachel into his arms.

They appeared to be able to set aside their squabbling when faced with a crisis. I wondered if the ability would keep them together or if their only hope was still with the fated mate bond granted to them by the Moon Goddess.

"And what kind of side effects is he most likely to have? I don't believe there would be none."

Wright was a pain in my ass, but he wasn't stupid.

Everything came with a price. Even medicine expected payment from a patient.

"He may experience systemic shock. He could be placed into a coma. He could experience memory loss, emotional instability, difficulty shifting, changes in attitude or behavior, deviations in allergies or tolerance of certain---"

The resident stopped talking when I held my hand up.

Shaking my head at him, I raised a brow, "Things could be bad. Would you suggest Rachel pursue treatment or wait to see if Ethan will pull through on his own?"

The resident looked stunned at the question -his eyes darted from me to Rachel and back- but gained his composure quickly enough as he explained.

"Without extraordinary measures being used, Ethan will die on the table. A decision will need to be made immediately. We either have to treat him or let him die natural death."