Dearest Ivie

“You stay with me, Silas…”

She wished there was some way to ask him what he wanted to do, what kind of risks he was willing to take, whether this was the sort of desperate Hail Mary he wanted. She didn’t like making the decision for him, but she had to believe that he would choose to take the gamble—

A nurse stuck her head in without knocking. “We have a match!”

Ivie jerked to her feet. “We do?”

“I don’t know who the donor is. Just the number—but we’re going to send an ambulance to him and bring him back in right now.”

At that moment, Havers entered the room. “Yes, we have good news.” The physician smiled, but not for long. “We need to move Silas to an isolation OR and commence the chemotherapy now. Harvesting the bone marrow will not take long, but the drugs he needs will require about six hours to administer. And then, after the transplant, we just have to wait and see.”

Ivie turned to Silas. “Did you hear that? It’s time.”

She leaned down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I love you. Fight for us, okay? Fight with everything you have. I’m here waiting. Even if you can’t hear me, know that I’m never far. I will not leave you, now or ever.”

It was so hard to straighten and step back.

But she couldn’t get in the way of this.

More staff people came in and the talk was fast, urgent, and technical, and Ivie found herself backing up until her shoulder blades hit the far wall. Crossing her arms over her chest, she watched as Silas was prepared for transport to the regular units. The VIP suite had the vast majority of equipment and resources, but some were so specialized, such as an isolation ORs, that if patients like Silas required them, they had to be moved.

“Pritchard needs to be here,” she said to everybody and no one. “Could someone please call his majordomo and send a pickup for her as well? She’ll want to be here.”

Rubes came over. “Absolutely. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Can I meet the donor?” Ivie heard herself say.

“I don’t know who it is. I haven’t been part of the testing process, but I’m sure, if he’s willing, you can do that.”

“I really just want to thank him.”

“Clear the way, please, thank you, clear the way…”

As someone began maneuvering the hospital bed into the discreet staff hall, Ivie reached out and touched Silas’s shoulder for what might well be the last time.

“I love you,” she called out, suddenly panicked. “I love you!”

And then he was gone.

Along with half the monitoring equipment.

Ivie could have tried to follow, but she knew she would just be in the way: She wasn’t anything professional at the moment. She was pure family member.

So the best thing for her to do was stand here and collect herself. Then she would proceed to the other unit he was going to be in. But she would give the staff a chance to get him settled first; the thing was, her fellow nurses were stressed and distracted by her presence. Worried about her, horrified for her, they couldn’t help but keep one eye on her, and everything had to be about Silas now.

No, she would wait here for about ten, maybe fifteen minutes, and then she would go.

Ivie stared at the blank hole in the room where the bed and the equipment had been. There were a couple of wrappers and a stray latex glove on the floor. That would all get cleaned up before the next patient was brought in.

It would not be Silas.

If this worked, he was going to have to be in isolation for—

“Ivie?”

Jumping to attention, she looked at the nurse who had entered. “Is he okay—oh, God, did he code—”

“The donor is coming in right now? He checked on his paperwork that he was fine with not being anonymous, so I thought you’d like to meet him in reception?”

Ivie took a deep breath. “Yes. Please. Thank you.”

The trip from the VIP unit to the normal reception area took forever, the endless lefts and rights and the ride up one floor in the elevator necessary because the blacked-out ambulance needed to be garaged from the daylight before anyone could disembark, and that only happened at the main entrance to the entire subterranean facility.

When she came out into the waiting room and non-emergent triage area, she looked around the largest open area in the clinic, seeing the chairs and tables for patients and families to hang out at as well as the play area for the young, and the registration desk that had three staffers manning computers even during daylight hours.

“He’ll be coming out of these elevators.”

Ivie let herself get led over to the left and then she had to pace around.

When the doors finally slid open, she stopped and stared. A tall young male was standing between a female who was not a vampire, but not a human, either, and…a human male.

“Are you Ivie?” the blond female asked as they stepped free.

Ivie nodded and cleared her throat. “Ah, yes, yes, I am.”

“I’m Doc Jane. I’m here to help with harvesting the bone marrow. This is Dr. Manello.”

“Hey,” the human said with an easy smile. His eyes were direct, however, and she had a sense of pent-up energy—as if he were impatient to get to work.

Dear God, Ivie thought. The Black Dagger Brotherhood’s private healers. Ivie had heard that they sometimes consulted Havers—and clearly offered the same service in return. Yet they were humans?

Oh, who cared if they could save Silas.

“And this is Ruhn. The donor.”

The male in question stepped forward, removing a knit wool cap. “Madam. I’m very sorry about your mate. I’m glad I can—”

Ivie didn’t care that they were strangers. She bum-rushed him with a hug, snapping her arms out and around him and holding on tight.

“Thank you,” she said through a choked throat. “Thank you for this gift.”

There was a pause and then he returned the embrace. “I just hope this works.”

Chapter Sixteen

Standing outside the isolation unit, Ivie stared through the glass at the hospital bed. Silas looked so small in it, so alone, and she wished she could go in there and sit with him. Infection control started now, however. Even though she could put on the protective suit and take other precautions, in the end, the fewer people he came in contact with, the safer for him.

She had no idea what time it was. What day it was.

She was vaguely aware that Rubes had been coming in at regular intervals to make her eat and drink, but the last twelve hours were a blur.

The chemotherapy they’d given Silas was so strong that it had done its job in a matter of hours, killing off all of Silas’s malfunctioning immune cells—as well as a whole host of other things.

How he was still alive, she hadn’t a clue. Currently they were flushing his body with fluids, trying to help his liver and kidneys do their job, and there was a cold wrap around his head to keep his brain circulation down.

Not for the first time, she worried that they were just killing him in a different way. What if he came out of this a vegetable? Alive, but dead for all intents and purposes because who he was was gone forever, his mind addled by the chemotherapy, his organs fried, his—

“Ivie, they’re bringing in the bone marrow.”

At the sound of Rubes’s voice, she jumped. “Sorry, I’m…”

A mess.

Her cousin smiled gently. “It’s okay.”

And there it was. An IV bag of red stuff that could have been, not to be gross, a cherry sauce or maybe something with tomatoes in it or perhaps a latex paint that had been frozen and lost some of its structural integrity.

The nurse who was handling it was dressed in a loose white isolation suit, her face and hair covered by a mask and a hood, her feet tucked into booties. And as she passed by, she lifted the bag to Ivie as if to acknowledge that it represented all kinds of things: hope, love, a possible future against the odds.

Ivie nodded her thanks.

Then she watched as the nurse entered the isolation unit’s sealed-off anteroom. There, another staff member, in similar garb, was waiting, and it was that nurse who was the one to take the bag to Silas’s bedside.