Chapter Six

As I entered the ER at Linda Vista for my next shift, my heart was pounding, and I felt queasy with nerves. I was sweating lightly, and I was a little horrified that my hands were shaking. As a doctor, you don’t want shaky hands; especially in an emergency situation. I buried my hands deep inside of the pockets of my white doctor’s coat, my left hand wrapping around the broken-off handle of a wooden ladle. It had seemed stupid at the time I’d done it—snapping off the bowl of the ladle in order to fashion a jagged stake for myself—just in case. I had also donned my grandmother’s golden cross necklace, hiding it on its long, delicate chain inside of the neck of my blue hospital scrubs.

I had woken in my apartment earlier to find Jared still there, his body warming mine. I had stretched, smiling at him.

“Hello stranger,” I had said. He had laughed.

“Stranger? Hardly,” he placed his thumb on my chin, looking at me again like I was something precious, yet mysterious. I had never been looked at in that manner by anyone before—it made my heart race.

“So, you want me to start setting the trap?” I asked him, reaching for my phone.

“Yes,” he replied. Typing quickly, I sent a text to Mark, hoping that maybe he would text during the daylight hours, thus proving that he was, in actuality, human.

I looked around in the ER, pretending to check on patients, but really keeping an eye out for Mark. He had yet to respond to my message from earlier. I picked up a patient’s chart, glancing over the blood work results. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The night, so far, had been relatively quiet. There had been no sign of any patient with inexplicable anemia or blood loss; that combined with Mark’s absence created the feel of the calm before the storm. I felt like all hell was about to break loose.

I walked over to the nurse’s station, where several nurses and residents were gathered over cups of coffee and sandwiches, taking advantage of the slow night.

“Hey guys,” I said.

“Hey Sam,” a nurse replied. The others waved or nodded.

“So, the news is that Mark has asked you out," one of the other residents, a guy named Ben said, raising his eyebrows and giving me the in that I needed to find out what the others knew about the possible rogue vampire.

“Yeah,” I said, playing it cool. “I haven’t really gotten to know him that well just yet.”

“I mean, aside from his good looks and obviously well-toned abs, what do you need to know?” Another resident replied. She was a girl, named Courtney.

“All I know is that he is visiting from St. Elizabeth’s,” I said.

“He prefers the night shift,” a middle-aged nurse volunteered. “Never works days. He’s switched with Dr. Ramsey several times in order to pull that one off.”

“Dr. Ramsey never switches,” Ben said, shocked.

“Evidently, he does for Doctor Mark Johnson,” the nurse said, raising her eyebrows as she scanned a patient chart. Just then, we heard the sound of sirens in the distance.

“Incoming!” Courtney shouted, heading for the door. We all followed, and just as we got to the door, Mark himself entered through it. He smiled when he saw me. The others had the unloading of the patient under control, so I could stop for a brief conversation.

“Hey,” he said. “I got your message.”

“Yeah?” My heart was fluttering nervously. Why did I suddenly detect an almost manic, predatory gleam in his eye?

“Yeah, I…” Just then, he was interrupted by the patient being brought in. Courtney was pumping the respirator.

“Hey, Sam,” she said, already in the zone. “Can you prep for intubation?”

"Yep," I said, automatically following them. The next few hours flew by. I looked at the clock, which read five minutes after ten. I wiped the sweat off of my forehead, walking to the nurses' station and filling a cup with water from the dispenser. I saw Mark, looking over a file, and I walked over to him.

“Sorry about earlier,” I said.

“Not a problem,” he replied, looking up. “All part of the job.”

“Do you want to go to the hospital cafeteria and get a cup of coffee before it closes?” I asked. He leaned in closer to me, his eyes smoldering sexily. It seemed as if he were about to say something flirtatious. Suddenly, his demeanor changed as his nose twitched violently. The usually jovial, warm expression on his face changed, and I saw beneath the kindhearted veneer. I saw the face of the killer; his eyes grew dark, almost black with a violent hunger. His mouth twisted in a cold smile. Shocked, I began to back away, but he grabbed my forearm in a vice-like grip. He began to drag me down the hall. I looked around for help, seeing no one, I began to scream, but my vocal chords failed me.

When he had me out of sight, he gripped me by the throat, pulling me in close to him, placing his hand on the flat of my lower back like a lover. Perhaps, anyone looking would think that we were in the middle of an illicit love affair. He squeezed my throat, and my vision darkened. I clawed at his hand, my lungs heaving for a breath.

“You reek of dragon,” he growled in an undertone, and I couldn’t understand what he was talking about, my brain reeling from lack of oxygen.

This is how I die, was my last thought as I passed out. It seemed to come from someone somewhere outside of my body.