“Edie?”
“Asher—thanks for the other night,” I started off strong, then paused. How best to explain it? It was quiet on the far end of the line this time. I imagined him in his library, lying on his couch, reading a book.
“You’re welcome. What’s wrong now? You only call me when you want something. ”
I was abashed. He was right. “I’m sorry, Asher. ”
“It’s fine for now. Just know that someday soon when I want something, I’m going to call you. ” He didn’t sound like he was teasing.
“Anything. Just ask it. Only help me out one last time. ”
“Okay. ”
“You remember my brother? He’s selling drugs. He’s in trouble. I’m trapped here for the rest of my shift—I don’t know what to do. ”
“What about the Shadows?” Asher asked.
“They’re not reliable,” I said, choosing my descriptor carefully.
He made a thoughtful noise. “How unreliable currently are they?”
“I can’t tell you. ”
“Are you in danger?”
“No. I just need Jake to be safe. ” It was what I’d always needed, for almost as long as I could remember. “He’s homeless. He stays at the Armory, downtown. He’s selling this stuff called Luna Lobos, which has something to do with the weres. Plus he’s an idiot. You know what he looks like. That’s pretty much all you need to know. ”
“All right, Edie. I’ll get on it. ” It sounded like he was setting a book down and standing up.
“Thank you so much, Asher. ”
“You’re welcome. You’ll owe me after this, though. We’ll figure out how much for, later. ”
“Like I said. Anything. ”
“I may take you up on that. ” He hung up on me before I could say anything back.
I felt a little better, going back onto the floor, and found Meaty waiting for me, just in case.
“I’m back. Like I said I would be,” I said.
Meaty nodded solemnly. “Thanks. ”
* * *
So now I had Charles’s patient, and no report, on top of the other four. I flipped through the charts and caught myself up to speed—Mr. Hale was also the victim of a gunshot wound, much as Javier had been. Because Mr. Hale was some vampire’s daytimer, though, he was eligible for vampire blood to heal him. I found the authorization from from the Throne that signed off on it—I’d never seen an actual order before. It was written on vellum, like Anna’s party invitation. I wondered if all the vampires had the same stationery, with a snort. On the bottom was an imprint into something that I hoped was wax, but looked more like a scab. There was a design in the center of it that looked roughly like a dagger or some kind of handled tool. I scraped at it with a fingernail, and a crusty piece came off.
“Ew. ”
The County transfusion lab kept donations of elder vampire blood for Y4. Vampire blood was a rare commodity—despite all the blood they drank in, very little of it ever came out again. The metabolic processes that created blood had slowed in death like the rest of them. Anna, as a living vampire, seemed to be the only known exception.
I set the chart aside and sat up to look over the nurses’ station. Our daytimer patient was watching me. When he caught me looking, he waved for me to come in.
I walked over to his room and stood in the door. He looked as sketchy as the mute weres down the hall, face riddled with old pockmarks and a sheen of grease. He smelled rank, like old sweat and urine. A scrub-down with mere shaving cream wasn’t going to save my nose from him, assuming he’d even let me. “Hey lady—where’d my other nurse go?”
“His wife got sick, he had to leave. ”
The daytimer shrugged, then winced. “Can you give me anything for pain? I got pain, bad. ”
“Let me look at your chart. ”
I hoped that Charles had caught things up before he left so I didn’t double-med the guy. Then again, there was almost no way he could die on my shift. Him getting vampire blood was almost the reverse of a Do Not Resuscitate code. Nothing I could do to him tonight would kill him, except if maybe I was carrying a bottle of holy water across his room and tripped on top of him.
I grabbed five milligrams of morphine out of the Pyxis, his max dose, drew it up, and took it in to him. My badge with my name on it was in my scrub pocket; I’d put it there so it wouldn’t dangle over the weres as I tucked them into bed. I was supposed to pull it out and hang it outside the isolation suit so that patients could ID us. I decided not to bother with that this time. I’d be fine being hey lady for the rest of the night.
“Whole syringe, eh?” he asked when I came in. “You sweet on me?”
I ignored him. “How badly do you hurt, on a scale from one to ten?”