Will Payton leaned back in his seat, taking a breath as the Doctor sent another message. It seemed Missy had woken up and, as usual, was giving orders. She was the doctor, of course, but she had a habit of putting others before herself.
Will, however, felt confident. He'd found just the right people at the base; Missy would soon be a compliant patient, not the one in charge. They were ten minutes from the clinic, the large SUV crammed full, followed by three more cars. Will had spoken at length with Doctor Latimer, understanding that he, and the other staff, had lives outside work.
He'd therefore secured medics from the bases—those familiar with Missy's treatment and the basics. He'd also contacted Samuel, mentioning the message and his suspicion that this was Freya's ex-coven's doing (black witchcraft).
Samuel hadn't called back, only texting that he'd inform Will of his arrival. Will sensed the news wasn't good. Samuel would bring more drugs and supplies, but Will had already sent him an inventory of what he had on hand. They would start with those.
Will was more than ready; he had gained considerable experience over the years and had ample supplies. While Samuel and the pack might eventually join them, time was of the essence; these abortions could lead to severe, prolonged infections, weakening the women for a long time. As they were already frail, he couldn't allow their condition to worsen.
As the cars finally pulled into the building's yard, it was smaller than expected—perhaps three or four stories—old, dilapidated, and in need of renovation. After driving through miles of countryside, however, a larger hospital wasn't surprising.
Will mused that, with so much suitable land available, why hadn't humans bought plots and built houses? He had an apartment, but sometimes a quiet country house would be nice; more people might also attract more businesses. The reality, though, was that large cities drew people in due to work and cheaper commuting.
As the car stopped, he got out and stretched his over 193 cm tall body, feeling his vertebrae pop slightly. It was time to go. Two others followed him after he loaded several heavy sports bags. One colleague, a woman, trailed behind with a very large travel bag—larger than normal—and several smaller tanks in a transport cart. The other man easily hefted several heavy bags as they headed back inside.
A young nurse, Annie, met them. "Doctor Latimer is busy," she said. "He's changing suction, and they've just gotten fresh coffee. Everyone else is sleeping except Mimi."
The other man rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. "What did you expect?" he asked Will.
Will chuckled, smiling. "Well, we're here, and as you see, we have a lot of stuff. Let's go see them, and then I'll give you a little lecture before we get down to business, as some of these treatments are weird."
The nurse nodded and led the way. She'd collected many bugs for Mimi, who hadn't eaten them yet because her cousin wanted to see a video. Mimi was amused but would wait; surely she could perform later.
I was just about to start correcting my enzymes—meaning, having my special snack—when I heard footsteps. Recognizing Annie's, I didn't pay much attention as I reached for my cup of bugs.
I deftly plucked a particularly nice-looking scorpion, careful not to let it sting, as I needed the venom in my stomach, as it had to be digested. A sharp voice from the doorway jolted me upright. Ms. Parker, her lips tight, strode swiftly toward me, snatching the cup and the hissing scorpion from my fingers.
"Haven't I told you this is more harm than good? We have enzymes; there's no need for you to poison yourself," she snapped, rolling her eyes.
Jarod, as calm as ever, said, "I must say, Mimi, you do surprise me. You look like shit, yet you seem to be running the show—well, not anymore."
He seemed a little tense. Why? Surely my habit of eating the most harmful creatures I could find wasn't the reason. And yes, I'd received several lectures on why it was bad for me, but desperate times… or something like that.
Will introduced himself, Jarod, and Miss Parker to the doctors and nurses. I sighed inwardly as at least six of my medics—those who knew how to handle me—walked in carrying more supplies. Jarod and Miss Parker were already escorting nurses to find storage space. It had only been 24 hours since our arrival.
Doctor Latimer said, "We took blood cultures six hours ago; they're in our lab, so we should know soon if there's bacteremia."
Will nodded. "First, let's get this little lady to rest," he announced. "I have a nice cocktail here to knock her out. Afterward, the boys can organize everything, review the scans and files, while I give you a crash course in treating these patients more efficiently. Don't worry about going home; we can manage."
Doctor Latimer watched as Will approached me. "Sleepy time for you, missy," he said. "Time to stop giving orders and start resting and healing. You're in the worst state I've seen in a long time."
Before I could protest, a syringe was in my cannula, the plunger depressed, and darkness claimed me in seconds as I slumped, my eyes rolling back.
Will, Jarod, and Miss Parker all sighed as they watched Mimi slip into unconsciousness. The sight of the frail woman, clinging to life while prioritizing others' needs, intensified their shared worry.
"Okay, she's under and staying that way," Will announced cheerfully. "Let's go have a chat. It won't take long, but it streamlines things if we don't have to ask about every little detail."
Their footsteps echoed on the linoleum floor. Will wondered if he could utilize this location for supernatural cases as well; their work took them everywhere, and medical resources were often scarce. Jarod seemed to be observing him intently, perhaps trying to read him. Will didn't mind; he had nothing to hide.
The older doctor led them into a larger break room, where several doctors were already gathered. The air was thick with the smell of stale coffee and day-old sandwiches, which one doctor was currently consuming. Will waited until all the doctors and nurses were seated. He carried one bag; the rest were left in the ward for his team to unpack after reviewing the files.
"First things first," Will began, "we'll be doing some unusual things, and we have some unusual supplies. However, we'll start by treating minor, non-infected abrasions and cuts. We'll also use blood transfusions where necessary. A
nd we flush wounds with blood. I have plenty of blood from their pack. Now, let's start with Mimi, as she's the most complex case." He paused, opened his bag, and produced a large blood bag. "This is from her husband, her biological half. It's not that they're siblings; it's one of those weird supernatural things. We'll use this on Mimi, internally and externally. They're meant for each other; destined to heal each other—'ultimate mates' might be a better term. The main goal is to keep Mimi unconscious. She can't afford to wake up, having exhausted all her reserves. She's the ultimate sacrificer, always putting others first and hiding her weaknesses. Fortunately, we have potent drugs here—large-animal medications that work on her, the kind used for horses, cattle, even elephants."
The old doctor raised his eyebrows but remained silent. It was a bizarre day; his wife had arrived, despite his instructions to the contrary, simply because there were more mouths to feed and she wanted to help.
Will pointed to several men who had walked in. "Meet these guys. They are from Mimi's organization and know how to treat her, so if there are questions, ask away."
He continued. "Of all the strange things we've encountered, the most peculiar is this white substance. It's not milk, but officially called IANF, or 'bump,' because it's a supernatural substance males can produce for their mates, providing internal nourishment."
The nurse blushed. Will offered the doctor a small vial so he could smell it. Thicker than milk, it resembled loosely whipped cream, or something between sour milk and crème fraîche. The doctor detected a sharp scent of pungent passionfruit, sweetness, and a faint meaty odor—a truly strange combination.
Jarod spoke up, "I'm a sort of vampire now, and I produce this substance. As you can see," he turned sideways, revealing a bulge on his lower right abdomen, "my 'bump bag' is filling up, forming the bump—hence the name. It can be quite uncomfortable for males to have their sacs full, and it usually requires manual emptying."
The nurse blushed again.
Will continued, "It's also soothing and healing, but primarily it's highly concentrated nutrition. We have it in two forms: raw and centrifuged, which resembles cottage cheese. During surgery, we use the dried form to pack the abdominal cavity—again, for nutrition, protection, and healing. So don't be surprised."
One of the younger doctors muttered, "Wild. This is too wild."
Will added, "Samuel won't be here for at least three days, and I'm unsure how long it will take him to sort out the males. They were bewitched by an evil coven for revenge, and they have no idea what the females have been through. They might be quite distraught, as they're proud, strong creatures, and seeing their mates reduced to this state will cause self-blame. Therefore, they might be…"
Miss Parker interjected dryly, "Not 'a little,' but a bunch of self-pitying males incapable of rational behavior initially. And they might become very protective."
Another young doctor chimed in, "Well, Mimi told us her pheromone glands are burned away, even from her wrists."
This caused Jarod and Miss Parker to exchange a sharp glance, but Will interjected, "Good to know. We'll get them back; don't worry, she'll be sleeping. Now, as we begin reviewing each female and Bran's charts, I'll note drug dosages and frequencies. Jarod or I will be dispensing the medication, so ask if you need more. These are potent drugs; some are fatal to humans, so caution is advised. This isn't about questioning your competence, but about ensuring everyone's safety."
Will consciously avoided overly clinical language. Though a seasoned speaker and natural leader in a busy ER, he wanted to adapt to the slower pace here. He knew medical jargon was used less frequently, both among doctors and with patients. Therefore, he adjusted his speech and vocabulary, avoiding an overly formal or pretentious tone that might hinder his work. He was well aware of the high-stakes nature of the profession and the potential for gossip and backbiting if he angered the wrong people.
The old doctor said, "Mimi reported that she can't access her rage; it's simply not there. And her access to the hive, whatever that means, is unreliable at best."
Jarod responded, "Nothing to worry about. She'll likely sleep for months. We don't let skeletons walk, so whatever stopped her rage might be gone by the time she wakes up."
He harbored some doubt about his statement, but she would sleep for an extended period and receive care. The only issue was the lack of pheromones, making her less appealing to male caregivers. However, Jarod knew he was free from such influence, and others like Wulfe weren't swayed by pheromones. Wulfe wasn't a doctor, but Colin was—though he was also a werewolf, making his perspective questionable.
Soon, it would be time to review their patients and prioritize the most acute cases. The old doctor had just handed Will a tablet; Mimi had ordered new CT scans after inserting cannulas and removing a mass from inside the patients.
Will wasn't sure it was the best approach, but it significantly reduced the pathogen load. He wasn't certain they had enough blood to spare, but flushing the area and draining it again might help. So many decisions needed to be made, and incredibly quickly.
Will looked at everyone and said, "We have a few machines, such as a supernatural analyzer, but that's beside the point. Many supernaturals lack medical care, and since it's not yet legally mandated, access is limited. This building is small, but we could rent a portion for supernatural patients. We'd need state approval, but that's usually granted, since supernaturals pay their treatment costs. We'd have staff and training opportunities."
A few others smiled. The old doctor said, "I'll make the necessary calls."
An older, plump woman nearby said, slightly reproachfully, "I'll make them, dear. You rest. We have other patients, and I can cook here too."
Jarod asked, "You're a cook? You'll need some training, but Miss Parker is happy to help. We need to make something rather unappetizing—intestinal mush—fed to seven patients via feeding tube once they're ready."
The woman smiled. "My name is Karen. I'm a retired cook, but I help out occasionally and am willing to learn. I'm a farm girl, so using organs is nothing new to me."
Will nodded.
Miss Parker offered a thin smile and said, "Let's go to the kitchen. I have a credit card to order supplies; we just need to find a suitable farm."
Will said, "You two handle that. Jarod, start teaching blood tests and results. I'll review the scans and determine if anyone needs surgery. There are many problems, but we'll get through this."
The doctors left the room. Will remained, a nagging feeling about Mimi's condition unsettling him. He feared she might struggle and hated the cycle of death and revival. He vowed to prevent it. She'd pushed herself too far again, and it was uncertain how long it would take before she was stable enough for surgery or even to start recovering.