Kevin Hearne - Tricked

Granuaile was there and restrained me with a hand on my chest.

“Lie back, sensei. You’re okay.”

“Oberon?” I asked, my voice tight.

“He’s okay too. Well, he’s not okay, but he’s alive, anyway. Most of his ribs were shattered on the right side and his shoulder too.”

The breath I’d been holding whooshed out of me in relief, and tears escaped from my eyes. “Thank the gods,” I said, choked up. “I didn’t want to lose him.”

“I know,” Granuaile said, and tears spilled down her face as well. “I didn’t want to lose him either.”

“What happened?” I asked. “I thought I was finished.” I’m sure Granuaile hadn’t seen any hint of the Dream on my face while I was unconscious. There had been no gods in the room with their fingers on a red button. Only a traitor.

“When you collapsed, Leif healed up your neck with his little vampire tricks.”

“What? How did he do that?” If it was a magical process, my amulet should have prevented him from doing anything to me. I checked to make sure my amulet was still around my neck, and of course it was. Perhaps the healing wasn’t magical but rather a radical biological process.

“I didn’t see exactly what he did. He squatted down next to you and his body blocked what he was doing — I was still in the hall with Oberon. But when he stood up, you weren’t bleeding anymore — in fact, your neck looked perfect.”

My fingers drifted up from my amulet and found no bandages, no scabs or puncture wounds.

“You were still out but not losing any more blood,” she added, “and that allowed us time to get you over here.”

“What about cops? That room was unholy.”

“Leif just charmed anyone who came by to forget about it. Then he called up some ghouls to take care of the remains. They were already in town. He summoned them from Phoenix right after he called Zdenik to say he’d found the world’s last Druid.”

“He told you all this?”

“Yes.” Her eyes drifted up, remembering. “He said he was dreadfully sorry that Oberon was hurt, and he hopes you’ll be able to forgive him someday.”

I shook my head. “That’s not going to happen.”

Granuaile nodded shortly to indicate she’d heard but then continued with the air of someone who had to recite their lines before they forgot them. “He also said you don’t have to worry about him doing this again. He’ll take care of the rest of the vampires by himself.”

“Good. I want nothing more to do with him. Wait.” She was blinking rapidly and seemed disoriented. “Did he charm you to make you say all that?”

My apprentice glanced down at my face, confusion in her eyes. “Say what?”

“That bastard! I’ll unbind him on sight, just like any other vampire.”

Granuaile looked as if she was going to say something more, but the scowl on my face must have made her reconsider. Before I could soften and ask her what she was going to say, a doctor wafted into the room like a cotton cloud cut in the shape of a lab coat, trailing two squat nurses in his wake. He had short, light brown hair and a pair of rimless glasses perched on his nose, over which he peered at me with what looked like suspicion.

“Ah, Mr. Collins. Feeling better, are we?”

I blinked at him, not recognizing my new name for a moment. “I’d like to go outside,” I finally said.

“Oh-ho!” he exclaimed, a false gaiety coloring his tone. He tried to chuckle companionably, but it didn’t endear him to me. “It’s far too soon for that.” The badge on his coat read O’Bryan . An unusual spelling for an Irish name. At another time and place I might have been interested in the history of it.

“We have to figure out what’s going on with you first,” the doctor said.

For the first time, I realized they had an IV in me, and little expensive boxes were beeping and compiling data on my vitals. I had no magic left whatsoever to speed my own healing, and a glance at the window indicated I was several floors above the earth. I was utterly at the mercy of the American health care system, and the thought made me shudder and the little expensive box beep faster. I clutched at Granuaile’s hand as she tried to back off and make room for the doctor.

“Whoa. Calm down. What was that?” O’Bryan said.

“Vitamin D deficiency. Get me outside,” I said.

“Miss, I’ll need you to excuse us for a moment,” one of the nurses said to Granuaile, and she tried to pull away again. I held on.

“She’s not going anywhere,” I grated, “unless it’s outside with me!”

Dr. O’Bryan flicked his eyes at the nurse, telling her to back off and let Granuaile stay where she was for now.

“Perhaps we can arrange a trip outside a bit later,” he said, “but I need to ask you some questions about your condition first, and we need to get you stabilized.”

“I’m stable and conscious, Doctor, and of sound mind. I’ll be checking out immediately. I refuse care. Get this IV out of my arm now.”

The doctor’s tone became patronizing. “Mr. Collins, we haven’t even established your insurance information or a proper check-in yet—”

“There is no insurance information. All bills will be paid by the law firm of Magnusson and Hauk in Tempe, phone number 480-555-8675. I will wait here long enough for you to call them and confirm that they are financially responsible for my bill, but that’s it. I’m out of here. Now, are you going to remove this IV or shall I?”

Granuaile proffered her cell phone to the doctor. “Here. You can call them.”

That got to him. Helpless patient in bed? He could ignore that. Granuaile in his face? He couldn’t hack it. He held up a defensive hand and annoyance tightened his voice as he said, “That’s not my priority right now.”

“It isn’t?” Granuaile replied, still holding the phone up. “You made it sound like insurance was the most important thing, or some kind of payment for your care. That’s fair, we understand, and we’re giving you what you need so you can take care of it and get us out of here. That way you can see patients who actually need you.”

“Just let me ask Mr. Collins here a couple of questions about his condition.”

“No questions are necessary, Doctor,” I said. “Again, I refuse your care. All that remains is for you to unhook me from this IV and all these monitors and settle the bill.”

O’Bryan was visibly irritated now. Doctors aren’t used to losing control of conversations in hospitals. If I had any juice left, I would have simply cast camouflage and walked out, but since I was completely drained, I had to play by their rules long enough to get out of there. If I simply yanked out the IV, he’d probably order me restrained, and the nurses looked burly enough to manage it in my weakened condition.

I already knew what he wanted to ask: How did you get to be so drained of blood when I can’t find where or how it got out? And if I allowed him to ask me that, there was a fairly decent chance I would scream, “AN EVIL FUCKING VAMPIRE SUCKED ME DRY!” and then the restraints would come out for sure, followed shortly by a trip to a padded cell and little cups of Jell-O spiked with Thorazine. I had to remain calm or I wouldn’t be able to help Oberon.

“Mr. Collins. You are in no condition to self-diagnose—”

I interrupted before he could go any further. “Granuaile, call Hal right now please and ask about the possibility of suing this man for continuing treatment after I have refused it.”