Obfuscate (10 page)

“
W
hat’s going
on between you and Briggs’ father?” I whispered to Khaldon. “Do you know him from somewhere?”

Khaldon pressed his lips together tight and pulled me close to his face. I noticed he placed my body between himself and Briggs. “Let’s just say I now understand why Briggs is so connected. If Draconis is his father, then—”

The EKG machine strapped onto Briggs’ chest alarmed and a missed beat.

Dr. Rattanakosin said, “He isn’t long for this world.”

Without another thought, Torchy ripped off his shirt and lay on the bed next to Briggs. I held my arms tightly around myself, acknowledging the sacrifice Torchy was making for a man, a fellow dragon, whom he barely knew. I prayed no one else died tonight because of this failed rescue mission.

Khaldon reached for my hand, and warmth caressed my nerves.

“Mr. Gravenor, we’re ready to take the adrenaline now,” Dr. Rattanakosin said. “This won’t hurt much, but if you tense up your abdomen muscles, it will burn as though you are being branded. Hold as still as you can. Try to relax.”

“Easier said than done, knowing that yer gettin’ ready to jam that needle into me gullet.”

The doctor smiled down at Torchy and acknowledged the sentiment.

“I understand. I’ll tell you exactly what I’m doing the entire time. I’m going to press just below your liver to gain access into your energy vortex.”

Briggs reached out toward Torchy and touched his arm. His eyes weeped thankfulness with a glint of a prayer.

Torchy gave him a wry half-smile. “I sure as hell pray my essence doesn’t make you go crazy.”

“
Oui.
Can’t get any crazier than I already am, my man.” Briggs gave Torchy a gentle fist bump and then turned his head. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. “
Bonne santé
, Doc.”

Dr. Rattanakosin picked up a needle the size of Alaska.

Briggs’ eyes opened wide and he swallowed hard. He looked at Torchy once again, and whispered a
merci
to Torchy as the needle inserted deep into his belly.

I prayed both of them would be all right.

Torchy stayed stoic as a rock and didn’t flinch. He held his breath as we watched a golden, almost white, fluid being sucked into the needle’s syringe. The nurse prepared the gash on Briggs’ abdomen and exposed the dismal brown, sickly light dying within him.

Dr. Rattanakosin changed the needle head on the syringe and moved over to Briggs. He inserted the golden adrenaline deep into the abdomen of the man who had tried, in vain, to rescue my sister.

I strained my neck to observe the procedure as Briggs gasped out loud and passed out.

His EKG blipped and flat-lined. The room fell silent like in the suspended moments before a wine glass shatters into a million shards against a marble floor.

I held my breath to listen closer. Not another heartbeat returned.

I cried out, “No! Please, no. Hang on, Briggs!”

Kalina ran to her brother with tears streaming. She whispered into his ear in a language I’d never heard before. She wiped the tears from her face, looked me dead in the eyes and then centered herself. She pulled her hands together in front of her face and then over her heart, chanting her incantation.

Kalina held her hands over Briggs’ bleeding wound and spoke aloud. The tattoos on her arms moved like they’d come alive. She continued to chant in her native tongue. I couldn’t understand any of it except for one word.

Was she calling on the blood goddess of birth and death, Kali, for help?

This can’t be good.

Kalina’s chanting escalated into a harsh, full-throated bleating as an indigo geometric shape emerged from Kalina’s hands and formed a container vessel. I watched as she seemingly sucked the death out of Briggs and contained it.

Most everyone gave her space, moving several feet away, but I wanted to know what she was doing. The golden light from within Briggs amplified and shot out in a spectrum of healing light from inside his abdomen.

The EKG monitor fluttered back to life.

A stable, rhythmic beat pulsed green in steady pings, echoing his heart rate.

The flesh within his belly pinked up again.

For the first time throughout the tense procedure, I grew conscious of my breathing once again. Had I been holding my breath the entire time?

Dr. Rattanakosin said, “Okay, I think that will be good for the first dose.”

“First dose?” Khaldon asked. “How many will he need? Is that going to happen every time?”

The doctor responded, “Oh no. Now that we have his heart started once again, thanks to his half-sister, we can proceed without any further snarls.”

Khaldon and I looked at one another, both seemingly to have the same questions run through our minds.

Half-sister? Snarls?

I placed my fists on my hips. “You think Briggs losing his heartbeat was a “snarl” to your procedure?”

Dr. Rattanakosin adjusted his glasses and tugged down on his white doctor’s coat. “Yes, it was a deviation from standard textbook procedures, but it will most likely take a series of at least three of these adrenaline donations to jump-start his energy vortex.”

I stared at the little beads of sweat forming at his hairline. “You’ve never done this before have you? Textbook procedures?” My cheeks reddened as heat plumed up out of my shirt. A nurse stood by with a syringe and stared hard at me, almost waiting for an excuse to put me back down into a drug-induced haze.

Khaldon touched me lightly on the shoulder. I knew I needed to stand down or I might get strapped to a bed again. I would be of no use to anyone then.

“How long will this take?” Harris stood up, his lips still swollen from the wolfsbane reaction. “How will this affect Torchy?”

Dr. Rattanakosin cleared his throat, seemingly tired of all the questions. “The first couple of shots are needed just for Mr. Briggs to heal his human form. The third one will help him with the strength he’ll need to transform into a dragon once again. He can then complete the healing and be fine in due time, but neither one of them will be more than a shadow of their former selves for a while.” The doctor shot me a sideways glance. “If everything goes well and there are no more complications, we can expect to see significant improvements for Mr. Briggs within a few hours.”

Kalina now seemed quite tired herself and took a stance behind Tiffany’s chair. Tiffany tensed up as Kalina sat behind her. Even though I was thankful Kalina most likely just saved Briggs’ life, I was still unsure of what she was or how she was able to conjure up the juju. Nobody lightly called down the goddess Kali like that.

Kalina. Kali. Could she be a descendant?

I walked over and stood close to Torchy’s head. “Won’t Torchy be able to shift into dragon form and heal himself just like Briggs? Why does it take so long for him to recover?”

Torchy reached for my hand. “It’s all right, lassie. I’ll be at home with Sheridan and the bairns soon. I willna have a need to shift for a long time. It takes years to build dragon adrenaline, ya ken? What I’m giving Briggs will only be the seed of what he’ll need to rebuild in his own system. Neither of us willna be flying for a few weeks. I’m afraid it’s going to be airplanes for a while.”

Dr. Rattanakosin prepared a new syringe and drew another dose of the golden adrenaline from Torchy, then injected it into Briggs.

Torchy’s face grew weary and his mouth relaxed. Even though I was worried, I managed to conjure a confident smile. I stroked my fingers through his coppery spikes. “You’re not alone Torch. We’re here with you. Nothing is going to keep us away, you hear me?”

He smiled a weakened half-smile. “Oh, aye.” He fell off to what seemed to be a peaceful sleep.

The nurse shooed me out of the way so she could insert an IV into his arm. She said, “We don’t know how long he’ll be out, but we’ll need to keep fluids in him.”

I nodded and stepped farther out of the way. Khaldon leaned on the side of Briggs’ bed and reached for a chair to sit. Both dragons were out cold. We watched as Dr. Rattanakosin took one last dosage from Torchy and gave it to Briggs. Finally, despite our injuries, it seemed we were all going to live.

I decided to take a moment to sit and relax, to finally catch my breath, maybe even find a cool shower and some clean clothes, when Tiffany cried out.

I stared at several purplish colors swimming inside of Tiffany’s IV bottle and tube line. In an instant, the color swirls escaped down the tube, through the needle, and squirmed into her arm.

Tiffany cried out again and slapped her forearm. “Ouch! It hurts! Get it out of me!” She pulled the IV needle out of her arm.

As fast as she stood up, she lost her balance and fell over on top of me. I tried to help her stand, but within seconds, Tiffany bubbled purple mucus from her mouth and nose. She held her hands up to her throat to indicate she couldn’t breathe.

“Doctor, she’s choking!” Harris grabbed her from my arms. He tried to perform what looked like the Heimlich maneuver on her. He squeezed his hands so tight around her waist that his own IV and blood line were wrenched from his arms. His hands burst open from his swollen injuries, squirting yellow pus and goo.

Tiffany gasped for breath while she slid out of his arms and down to the floor. She opened her mouth mimicking a fish pulled out of the water desperately trying to breathe, her eyes wildly vacant as she thrashed at her neck, struggling to take in oxygen.

She’s drowning!

“I saw something purple flow into her arm from the IV. What was it?” I cried out to everyone.

Additional hospital personnel ran into our emergency area, picked Tiffany up, and took her to the bed beside Torchy.

Kalina stood back over by Briggs’ bed and observed with perceived nonchalance about the whole situation. She picked at her fingernails.

Khaldon stood back with me as we watched the hospital staff suck the suffocating mess out of Tiffany’s throat and nasal passages.

Nothing was working.

Dr. Rattanakosin ordered, “Get me a trach kit, stat!”

Within moments, Tiffany was breathing through a tube in her throat while they continued to draw out the purplish gray ooze.

The doctor murmured, “What the—”

I retched into my mouth as the slimy mucus thickened and puddled out of her—not only from her nostrils—but her ears and eyes as well. Her skull warped and contorted like a baby were struggling to get out. Within moments, Tiffany’s eyes dissolved and her head imploded in on itself. No amount of oxygen through the trach tube was going to save her life.

In an instant, she was dead.

"
Y
ou killed her
!” Helpless to keep my hand from shaking, I pointed toward Kalina. “There was a purple snake or something in Tiffany’s IV tube. You poisoned her—I know you murdered her! You took that poison out of Briggs and gave it to Tiffany.”

Kalina stared at me as if I had just spat on her mother.

Khaldon touched my shoulder and turned me to look at him. His lips were hard. His forehead creased and eyes narrowed. “Blimey, Cheyenne, I understand you’re upset, but you can’t accuse her like that. There’s no telling what parasite Tiffany may have picked up in that place.”

My mouth gaped open. “But I saw the purple stuff floating around in her IV bag. It was the same geometric pattern we saw Kalina pull out of Briggs.”

The nurse pulled a fresh sheet out from the metal cabinet and draped it over Tiffany’s body. Dr. Rattanakosin instructed an orderly to move the corpse to the morgue.

I raised my voice. “What are you doing? You’re destroying evidence.” I stopped the bed from leaving the room. “This is a crime scene now! You haven’t even taken any pictures.”

Everyone in the room gawked at me, making me feel as though I were the one who had committed the crime.

I pointed at Tiffany’s disintegrating body. “I know what I saw. She was fine until Kalina stood behind her. I’m so not buying this. What gives?” My finger changed direction and pointed accusatorily at Kalina. “Who the hell are you, and why did you kill that innocent girl?”

Briggs’ sister stood taller and straightened her blouse. “I am Kalina. A direct descendant of Kali. You would be wise not to cross me, vampyre.” Her East Indian accent gave her threat a particular appeal, but her words were poison. “It is true. I used her to save my brother.”

Everyone in the room stared at Kalina, echoing my shock.

“You had no right to kill her.” I moved forward to bitch slap the smug grin off her face, but Khaldon jerked my arm back.

Trespassing deep into my personal comfort zone, Kalina coolly took a step forward and stood directly in front of me. Toe to toe. “I saved my brother’s life.”

Khaldon’s hands held me steady.

She tilted her chin up and loomed over me. “Kali had every right. She must have a life to save a life. Tiffany was the most insignificant being here, and Kali chose her. You should thank me for sparing your life, vampyre.” Kalina popped the letter “p” in vampyre as a disgusted sneer dripped from her lips.

A million ways to slam this skank to the floor flew through my mind, but I wasn’t stupid either. I’d heard about how gods and goddesses were never to be called upon unless you offered a sacrifice. Horrible things could happen to you if you didn’t. One would not ask for Kali to cleanse your home after you bought it. To Kali, a home cleansing meant sending a tornado and razing it to the ground.

I bit my lip to stave off any further outbreaks and eased my arm down. Khaldon stood close beside me.

Kalina cocked an eyebrow at me as if to say, “I win,” and she turned to sit by her brother’s side.

I walked away disgusted and leaned against the window frame. I couldn’t handle the self-righteous attitude. “We need to call the police. She confessed to her murder. Everyone in this room heard it.”

Dr. Rattanakosin addressed us. “Stand down, everyone. The proper authorities have been notified. It will all be handled within the standard supernatural protocols.”

I returned a cocky eyebrow to Miss Holier-Than-Thou, and she didn’t even flinch.

Harris sat down next to Tiffany’s body and pounded the bed next to her. “I promised her I would help her parents. She was going to be okay, right?” Harris shook with his words. “She went through hell. She deserved better than this.” Genuine tears ran down his cheeks. “All those people do. We can’t let those jerks kidnap and kill innocent kids like that! We’ve got to locate this blood-orchard torture factory and put a stop to it, right?”

My stomach lurched at the possibility of going back to that island. “Wait. Why do
we
have to do this? Isn’t there some kind of supernatural governing body or police we can call? Why do we have to risk our own lives again? Can’t we report this place?”

“Absolutely. We need to expose it, we must tell the International Council,” Harris said. He stood up, a little wobbly on his legs. “I don’t know who or what’s ultimately profiting from it, but we can’t allow this inhumanity to continue.”

“We were tipped off this was going on,” Khaldon said. “Remember the evil sect of werewolves who were trafficking humans inside
ExsanguiNation
?”

“Wait a
gawddamn
minute. Are you saying that
my
people are doing this? To work for vampires?” Harris hissed the word as though it was a vile, nasty taste in his mouth. I’d never seen him this upset before.

“Harris, you even said yourself there were bad wolves moving through Florida.” I touched his arm. “He’s right, H. We talked about what was happening in the game on various sims. Remember when—”

“I know, dammit.” He cut me off sharply and shook his head.

“Hey, I don’t mean it was you or your pack.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed. “But it’s conceivable there could be supes working together for blood profit.”

His face creased causing leaks to spill out from the bloated sacks. “You’re right. I’m just … just kinda on pins and needles right now.” He slumped his shoulders.

I plucked several tissues from the table and blotted the drips before they ran into his eyes. “Stop doing that—you’ll make your swelling worse. Sit back so I can clean you up.”

Harris sat further back in his chair and looked up toward the ceiling avoiding my gaze. “I know you didn’t mean it that way, Chey. We should check the game’s database to learn if there’s any kind of reference to this blood orchard.”

Khaldon said, “We might be able to find out who’s running it. I’m sure we can track the orders if they’ve been purchasing through the game platform.”

Kalina shot a curious glance toward Khaldon.

A nurse approached with a tray of brownish looking slugs. “Okay, Mr. Archer, we finally located the leeches that thrive on the wolfsbane. Let’s try to bring down that swelling off your face.”

“Leeches?” I raised my hand to my mouth, miserably failing to hide my revulsion. “Seriously? What is this, the 1700s? What’s next? Bloodletting?”

“We don’t use the word bloodletting any longer, Cheyenne.” Khaldon sat down at the head of Torchy’s bed. “It’s called exsanguinating.”

I started to question him further, but an orderly poked his head into our room. “There’s an emergency phone call for a Cheyenne O’Cuinn. Anybody here by that name?”

I pointed at Khaldon, gesturing to Kalina. “Please don’t take your eyes off her.”

Kalina rolled her eyes as though she were a bored, eighth grade bully.

I stepped out of our hospital room and was directed to an ancient phone at the nurses’ station. The cord must have stretched over a hundred feet as it twisted and turned its circular curly-Qs into a tangled mess.

In the corner, the TV droned on with the political wars escalating between North Korea and China. China was ready to advance forces on the small country because its military leaders had threatened to test an EMP not too far from the coastline.

Children played with wooden blocks while row upon row of patients wore surgical masks to keep from catching other contagious ailments in this place. One child in particular was obviously not human since he had gills on the side of his neck. One side much more green and swollen than the other. He had a terrible cough and his mother’s face grew more concerned by the minute.

I heard the phone ring and make the connection. “Hello, this is Cheyenne O’Cuinn.”

“Cheyenne! Oh, thank the heavens I’ve found you.” My father’s panicked voice burst over the line.

“Daddy? Is everything all right? How—how did you know I was here? Why didn’t you call my cell phone?”

“Calls are goin’ straight to yer voicemail. Never mind that. Yer sister is being taken to the hospital. She’s in severe pain. She’s been haverin’ on in the worst way not long after you left. When are you coming home? Are you able to leave now?”

I took a deep breath and bit back the bitter words I needed to say. I opted for a small fib to buy us time. “We can probably fly home pretty quick, Daddy. Is she in labor? Are the babies okay?”

“I’m not sure. Yer mum never had this kind of pain when she birthed you three. I’ve got the screaming abdabs from all this, luv.”

“We’ll be there as fast as we can. Are you at Orlando Hospital?”

“Right.”

“Have you called Dr. Meyer? He’s Sheridan’s OB-GYN specialist. His number is programmed into her phone. If we don’t make it back in time, he’ll know exactly what to do with the babies and how best to take care of Sheridan.”

“Right.”

“Just breathe, Daddy. Tell Sheridan I love her. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“Have you heard anything about Dakota?”

Of course … the question I dreaded the most.

Pressing a thumb into my right eye socket, up under the eyebrow, I tried to stave off the never-ending headache.

My fingers reached for a stray piece of paper to crumble. Licking my lips, I hesitated. I considered faking a lost telephone line connection. I pulled my hand back.

I can’t lie to my dad.

Do I tell my father how I watched my baby sister blow up into a million silver shrapnel pieces to kill me?

“Yeah, Daddy … about that.”

“Cheyenne, call me back on my mobile if you can. The paramedics are here. I need to go tend to yer sister. Come home as soon as you can.” And with that he had hung up the phone.

“Okay.
Gráim thú.
Love you.” I spoke to the handset as I replaced it onto its cradle hanging on the yellowing wall.

An out-of-place song filled the waiting room speakers. It was only then I realized the Muzak version of “Closer
”
by Nine Inch Nails had been playing the whole time I was on the phone. Even more surreal was to watch people of all ages tapping their feet to the beat.

Returning to our room, I found Harris laid out on a bed with doctors and nurses surrounding him.

“No. No!
No!
What’s going on?” I ran to his bedside. If he was lying in a puddle of purple goo, I would kill Kalina with my bare hands.

Khaldon’s fists were white as marble as he held onto the side of the bed rails.

His eyes met mine. “It’s all right, Cheyenne.” Khaldon spun on his heels and stopped me. “Well, not all right. He’s having an allergic reaction to the wolfsbane antidote.”

I dashed over as Dr. Rattanakosin injected an EpiPen into him. Harris’ face was as bloated as the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.

“Obviously, your seventeenth-century leeches didn’t help. Is he going into anaphylactic shock?” I watched, helpless as his tongue swelled and his skin took on a pallor of ashen gray. “Is there a different remedy we can give him?”

“We don’t have any other medicines here. The leeches are helping remove the swelling from his face. They have nothing to do with the allergy treatment.” Dr. Rattanakosin said. “We need to put him on a ventilator, or we’re going to have to perform another tracheotomy.”

“A ventilator? Won’t you have to induce a coma?” I asked, stepping closer to Harris’ head. “Hang in there, buddy. Just relax.” He clutched onto the oxygen mask as strong as the leeches clutched onto his skin. “Breathe as deep as you can. We’re here, and everything will be just peaches soon. You hearing me?”

His golden eyes tried to open wide while he held on to me. His irises were ringed in black as he appeared to be turning into his werewolf form. “Harris, don’t, buddy. Stay in control. You’re gonna be a lot harder to fix if you wolf out on us.” I grinned at him. “Don’t make me take you to the vet.”

“How b-big does Mr. Archer get when he morphs?” Dr. Rattanakosin’s lip quivered in a nervous twitch.

“Well, the last I saw—he was maybe eleven feet long from nose to tail.”

“Nurse, bring me propofol. We’re going to need it.” The doctor stepped toward the metal cabinet and took out padded restraints. He handed two of them to Khaldon. “Quick. Help me hold him. If he shifts, all our safety will be compromised. He’ll especially be a danger to himself.”

Blowing out a series of short breaths to gain control, I tried to relax when my eyes caught Khaldon’s. Glacier prickles ran up my spine and tap-danced at the base of my neck. I turned to find Kalina staring at me. I challenged her. “This better not be any more of your shite, Kalina. Are you responsible for this?”

She shrugged as if our new emergency was intensely annoying to her. “I had nothing to do with it.” She waved the back of her hand toward Harris. “But perhaps Kali should have chosen him instead.”

I lunged at her, willing to choke the ever livin’ hell out of her.

Khaldon held onto me while I jabbed a finger at her face. “One day, Kalina. One day, it’ll be me and you.”

She tilted her head accepting the challenge. “I look forward to it.”

“I will put you both in restraints and call security if you two can’t control yourselves.” Dr. Rattanakosin gestured to the heavy belts he held.

Giving Kalina one last warning look, I focused my energy back onto Harris again. I bent down close to his ear and whispered. “I love you, bro. We’re going to help you relax and sleep okay?” I slipped my hand into his. “I’m with you. Everything’s gonna be all right when you wake up. Hang in there. You’ll beat this.”

Harris squeezed me back and nodded as best he could.

I watched them tie him down, remembering how helpless I felt when I awoke blind and bound. I didn’t wish that on anyone. Well, maybe Kalina.

I’ve got to stay with him and let him know he’s safe. What am I going to do about Sheridan?

Another nurse hustled in and laid a tray with a white bottle next to Torchy’s bedside. She checked his IV lines and ran his vitals. She recorded the findings on her tablet and then left again.

We watched as the hospital staff intubated Harris for the respirator. Inducing his coma couldn’t have come at a better time. His hands elongated, sprouted fur, and long, black claws extended below where his fingernails normally were. The ventilator manually inflated his lungs and hummed with a
whoosh-whoosh
sound. His life support machine showed he was stable, and his face looked as peaceful as a puppy after a long day of tug-o-war.