Chapter 46

Hold On To Me

Author's note: Sorry for the delay in posting, especially at this point in the story! I really love the end song for this chapter. It feels right…

Intro Song: Save Yourself, KALEO

John Giles punched in the number on his cell phone with a heavy sigh. Drumming his fingers on the end table next to him, he waited impatiently for the call to be picked up. He was tired and frustrated by the day's events and he wanted nothing more than to finish the 'to-do' list Christophe had given him and get to bed for a few hours. I should call Rebecca first… Abruptly, his target came on the line, jarring him out of his daydreaming.

"David, hi. Thanks for picking up. Sorry to call you this late, but you need to get out here right away - I'm sending the corporate jet for you... No, it has to be right away; it'll take you all day the way it is. What...?"

Giles listened disinterestedly for a moment, nodding into the phone even though his caller couldn't see him. "Yeah, I know it's a bad time to be missing from work. Tell them you're traumatized or something." There was a long pause as he listened to the man on the other end extolling his own virtues about just how traumatic the situation had been, his fear at coming face-to-face with a vampire - but how he'd persevered for the Crucis mission.

After attempting, unsuccessfully, to interrupt the flow of words twice, John finally managed to break in. "Yes, I told Mr. Durand what you did. He knows. And he wants you out here to let you know how he feels in person, and talk with you about your future with Crucis." That much is certainly true. "The jet will be at Orange County, fueled and ready to go at six A.M. Just give customer service your name and they'll point you in the right direction. Hop a taxi when you get to New York and come right here. It'll be expensive but we'll reimburse you. Mr. Durand has time slotted for you at six this evening... Okay, see you then."

Giles hung up with a sigh, certain that he had deceived the young man. David McGowan would walk into Christophe Durand's office tomorrow afternoon with no idea of what would be awaiting him. I wouldn't want to be you, he thought, almost pitying the younger man. Almost.

The last hour had been a little easier on all the room's occupants.

True to his word, Josef had come for Guillermo as soon as the anesthetic drugs had arrived. With a glance at Mick's white face, Kostan had remarked, with some satisfaction, that the medications had been pried out of the hands of the extortionist while he was in the grip of one of the Cleaners, who had volunteered for the job when she heard about Mick. "Giulia took great pleasure in killing the man," he had said, with relish. "I need to send her a thank-you note."

Ryder had trailed Kostan into the room, his hands filled with electronic equipment. When Beth raised a questioning eyebrow, Josef had shrugged and said only, "Spector is Victoria's guy, not mine. I want to know what's going on." At a gesture from him, England began adding microphones to the small, high-tech security cameras already in place, doing his best not to look at the badly injured vampire on the table as he worked.

After a hurried phone conference with John Spector, Guillermo had carefully injected Mick with a massive dose of ketamine, explaining to Beth that it would act both as an anesthetic and an analgesic at the same time. If the vampire's physician was correct, when given in doses much larger than humans could tolerate, it would put Mick under temporarily, while at the same time, providing some measure of pain relief.

"I can't start an IV though, Beth, so we'll have to operate for a few minutes, then inject him again."

Beth had nodded her understanding. "Whatever you need to do, Guillermo. Anything, as long as it will help with the pain."

The drug had seemed to work. Without the continuous dosing that could only come with an IV, however, the medication wore off frighteningly fast, forcing Guillermo to stop and re-inject Mick over and over as the injured vampire would start to move and moan with pain. While it had allowed them to continue to make slow, steady progress in removing slivers of silver from Mick's battered body without causing him additional pain, the strain of the slow, painstaking process was felt by both Guillermo and Beth.

When Logan rushed into the kitchen-turned-operating-room to announce that Dr. Spector had arrived, they both sighed with relief...and, incongruously, laughter, courtesy of the youthful-looking vampire who, upon seeing Mick on the makeshift operating table they had set up, had turned a pale shade of green.

"Geez, shouldn't I be wearing a mask or scrubbing up or something?!" His earnest face told them he was serious, provoking the only laugh in the long, dark night.

"Um, I think it'll be okay, Logan. Mick is a vampire, in case you didn't know." Guillermo's delivery was deadpan and he smiled at Beth as he moved away from the table and stripped off his bloody latex gloves. Pausing at the door, he looked back at the young woman, still grasping Mick's hand.

"Beth, I'm going to go talk to this Dr. Spector and make sure we have everything lined up. I'll be back in a few minutes. You okay here with Mick?"

She nodded anxiously. "Just hurry, Guillermo."

"You got it." With another glance at his 'patient', the coroner's assistant hurried out.

Logan trailed behind, hesitating at the door before turning back to stand next to her. "Beth, I'm sorry about before...about keeping all this a secret from you." He made a sweeping gesture around the room with his arm. "I just- I really never thought it would be anything like this. I figured, at worst, we'd have to get Mick away in a hurry so he didn't risk exposure. If I'd known..." He trailed off, glancing guiltily down at his unconscious friend, white-faced and bloody on the stainless-steel table.

"I know, Logan. I realize that now. I'm so sorry for the things I said to you - I was just upset. You are a good friend to Mick...and to me," Beth added softly, reaching out her free hand to touch him.

Logan put his hand on top of hers, squeezing it before he disengaged it gently from his arm. "Thanks, Beth. Lemme go see if Josef needs for me to do anything else. If he doesn't, I'll come right back." Despite his reservations about leaving her there without help, he knew there was a lot to get done. With one final glance at his injured friend, he hurried off after Guillermo.

Now, long minutes after the last injection, Mick showed signs of awakening, shifting slightly on the table and moaning with the movement. Left alone with him, Beth bent down to whisper to him, telling him over and over how much she loved him, pleading with him to hang on.

"Come back to me," she murmured, brushing the fingertips of her free hand down the side of his face. "We need more time together. Don't you dare quit on me, Mick." Whether it was her touch or her voice that brought him back was impossible to say, but he responded, slowly coming out of his trance and opening his eyes to look at her. Beth drew a startled breath - his eyes were almost completely silver now, with only traces of their normal color still visible, outlining his silver pupils like a blue-green corona. "Can you see me, Mick?"

Improbably, his lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. "My Beth..." The hand she was holding lifted to her face, his arm straining against the restraint across his chest and upper arms in order to reach her. Mick's finger touched her cheek in a gentle caress.

Beth bent down again, holding her mouth against his dry, chapped lips, breathing "I love you" into him. When she felt his hand against her face go limp, she raised her head in time to see his eyes slowly close and his head roll to the side.

"Mick?! Mick!" She was almost screaming his name. "No! Oh, god! Guillermo!" She couldn't - wouldn't - leave him, but no one seemed to hear her. NO! He can't be dying! "What do I do?" she cried out despairingly to the empty room, looking around wildly for help.

Impulsively, Beth grabbed the bloody scalpel Guillermo had set down on the table next to Mick when Logan rushed in. The razor-sharp instrument easily cut into her wrist, slicing through layers of skin to reach the small arterioles there. Without hesitation, she pushed deeper with the blade, ignoring the white-hot pain that shot up her arm like an electrical charge as nerves were impaled on the knife along with arteries and capillaries.

Still holding the scalpel, she shoved her gushing wrist at Mick's mouth. "Mick! You need blood! Drink!" For a long, terrible moment, as she held her breath, there was no response. "Please, Mick," she begged through her tears, "For me…" Then, gradually, she felt pressure exerted against her, a slight suction at her wrist. "Keep going," she implored. "Please drink, Mick. Hold on to me." The vampire, eyes still shut, started gulping steadily at the dark red blood pouring from her wrist, a welcome pressure she could feel all the way to her core. Without warning, Beth's knees buckled with relief, and she had to lean on the table to keep from sliding to the floor.

At that moment, Guillermo and Josef walked in the door with John Spector, Gabrielle Sinclair trailing behind them. The group came to a shocked standstill as they took in the tableau in front of them. Beth was half leaning, half lying on the table, the bloody scalpel still clutched in her right hand. Her left was held by Mick, who continued to pull at the gash, sucking in the life-giving fluid she urged on him.

Josef was the first to react. "Beth! Are you crazy?! What the hell are you doing?!"

He dashed to the table and pried the deadly instrument out of her hand. Guillermo, Logan, and Gabrielle remained rooted in the doorway, mouths hanging open. Only Spector responded with Josef, grabbing a package of bandages from the counter closest to the door, and hurrying to Beth.

"Okay, Mick, that's enough." Kostan reached for Beth's left hand, determined to pry her from his friend's grasp.

"No, Josef, not yet!" Beth was firm. "He can take a little more from me. He'll stop when he should."

Kostan shot back, "You sure about that, Beth?" As he listened closely to her heartbeat, however, he conceded that the young woman was at least right about being able to give more blood. She could do so without danger to herself - and lord knows, his friend needed it. "All right, but just a little more. What were you thinking? What if we hadn't come back in and you couldn't stop him?!"

"He wouldn't hurt me, Josef! He didn't in the desert, and he won't now! This is Mick we're talking about." Beth looked from Kostan's concerned face to Mick's, which already appeared a little less ghostly with the infusion of her blood.

"No, Beth, you're wrong. This is a vampire we're talking about. He wouldn't want to hurt you, but he may not be able to stop himself! Vamps can't always control their actions." Josef shook his head sadly. "You just don't get it, do you? Or are you deliberately trying not to understand?" Beth opened her mouth to respond, but Kostan raised his hand, silencing her. "If you won't be careful for your own sake, do it for Mick. How do you think he would feel if he recovered, only to find out that he had injured or killed you in the process? Do you really think he could live with himself then? You would be saving him only to destroy him."

For that, she had no answer.

As if he had heard the conversation, Mick gradually stopped drinking and released her, his hands dropping back to his sides.

John Spector was there to take charge. "I'm a doctor, young lady. Please let me check that injury for you, and I'll get you bandaged up." He ushered her away from the table. Peering closely at the wound, where the flow of blood had already slowed to a trickle, he expounded, "Ah, the magic of vampire physiology. I wish I could understand what it is in their system that causes these wounds to heal so quickly. Perhaps some enzyme in their saliva? It would be a godsend to mankind if I could just figure it out."

He smiled at Beth, who stared at him without responding, as if she was having a hard time comprehending his words. "Forgive me. I forget myself sometimes - vampires are just so fascinating. Now, let's take a look at you." The physician prodded at the wound, eliciting a hiss of pain from her. "Sorry, Miss…Turner, is it? I want to be sure there is no serious nerve damage. You did a pretty good job of slicing up your wrist. Wriggle your fingers for me."

He watched closely as she obeyed, then commanded her to open and close her fist. Beth did so with a grimace. "Good, that's good." He tested each finger in turn to ensure that she still had feeling in all of them. "I think you have managed to avoid causing yourself any permanent harm, which is rather remarkable given the depth of this cut, but you are going to need stitches."

The physician kept up a steady stream of conversation as he deftly injected her wrist around the incision with lidocaine from his bag. Beth barely noticed, her eyes glued to the still figure on the table. Spector did his best to distract her. "It's a good thing we got here when we did, although I must say that these supersonic jets are not as comfortable as a 747. Shortest trip I've ever had from one coast to the other - but I'm sure it probably seemed to all of you like it took us forever."

Beth nodded, but still said nothing. He studied her intently as he began to carefully stitch the long gash closed, trying to assess whether she was in shock. "Are you light-headed? Sounds muffled? Any changes in vision - spots or black areas?"

The young woman shook her head, speaking for the first time. "I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me. I won't faint."

"I can see that you are a very strong and determined person," he remarked, "but everyone has their breaking point, Miss Turner." He looked pointedly toward the table where Mick lay. "Everyone." Tying off the last stitch and expertly bandaging her wrist, he continued talking to her quietly. "Now, while I don't think you've done yourself any permanent damage, this is going to be quite painful for a while, given where you cut yourself. And there is always the risk of infection - vampires don't usually have to worry about it, but we weak humans do. Was it a clean scalpel at least, I hope?"

It took Beth a moment to realize that he expected a response; her mind and heart were with the man lying on the table. "Oh...uhm...no. No, it wasn't. It was the scalpel Guillermo had been using on Mick."

"So, Mr. St. John's blood was on it."

"Is that a problem?" she asked, seeing him frown.

"Young lady, I have no idea," he responded candidly. "I'm afraid I'm a physician who doesn't know a great deal about his patients. They are marvelous creatures, but difficult to understand - both physiologically and philosophically. My name is Spector, by the way. John Spector."

Beth liked the older man instantly. He seemed devoid of the usual stamp of arrogance that seemed to be a hallmark of most physicians and he appeared to genuinely care about the vampires. She tried her best to smile at him. "I'm Beth."

The older man's keen, dark eyes inspected her face as he held her injured wrist. "It would appear that Mr. St. John is extremely fond of you... Beth."

"Yes," she whispered, looking back over her shoulder at the table where Mick had begun to shift restlessly and moan as what little had remained in his system of the last injection of ketamine wore off. Guillermo was attempting, unsuccessfully, to get him to swallow more blood.

"Well, Beth, I've never seen a vampire who was that critically injured, release a food source, no matter who it was. I–"

"Doctor Spector," Beth interrupted desperately, "I appreciate what you are saying, but could you please take care of Mick? He's– I mean, he–" Tears welled up in her eyes and she couldn't finish. She gestured helplessly toward the table.

"Of course!" He patted her shoulder. "I'm all finished with your bandages anyway. Be sure to keep that clean and dry. You'll need a follow up in about ten days to have the stitches removed. I'll prescribe some painkillers and antibiotics later, although I'm sure Mr. Kostan could procure those for you without difficulty, hard as that is for a physician to accept." With a final pat of her shoulder, he hurried over to Mick's side.

Beth watched from the corner of the room, her right hand wrapped around her injured wrist, holding it tightly against her chest. Spector became all business, talking to Guillermo as he lifted up the towel Gasol had once again draped over Mick's abdomen. Her heart leapt into her throat as she watched the physician grimace at what he saw underneath. The atmosphere in the room changed almost immediately as he wheeled around, barking orders. Beth found herself praying, her lips moving in silent entreaty to a fickle god.

Guillermo ran out and hurried back in almost immediately with two men... vampires?... Beth had not seen before. For the first time, she noticed the beautiful, seemingly young, Asian woman hovering at Spector's elbow. More of Josef's personal entourage of suck-ups, she thought and was immediately ashamed of herself. Kostan's actions were mainly responsible for Mick still being alive at all, from his helicopter rescue to the arrival of Spector. You willneed to do some sucking up when this is all over, Beth.

The two new assistants gloved, then helped Guillermo reposition Mick on the table after cleaning the surface and spreading a sterile sheet. When the injured vampire was rolled onto his back again, he cried out hoarsely, the blood from his wounds immediately staining the pristine white surface.

Beth winced at the sight of his blood spreading on the white cloth and was surprised to see a look of pain, mirroring her own, on the face of the female vampire. Who is she? Her eyes widened as a sudden thought occurred to her. Was this the mysterious female who had answered Mick's phone when he was in New York? Her attention was drawn back to the table where Spector was carefully threading a large bore needle into Mick's arm. "I didn't think it was possible to keep an IV line open on a vampire," she whispered, unaware that she had spoken out loud.

The Asian woman looked up at the sound of her voice, meeting Beth's concerned gaze with her black, almond-shaped eyes. She hesitated for a moment, then, with a murmured word to Spector, who nodded his head in agreement, she moved carefully around the table, approaching Beth.

"I'm Gabrielle Sinclair, Beth. We haven't met, but I've heard so much about you from Mick that I feel like I know you." She glanced at the table, then turned back to Beth, reaching out to touch her forearm reassuringly. "He loves you so much. I just know that will help him get through this."

Beth whispered, "I hope so." She began to shake, her teeth chattering as the adrenaline that had been sustaining her, left her body.

Gabrielle sensed that the young woman was on the verge of collapse and wrapped a slender arm around her shoulders. "Come with me," she said gently, guiding her over to sit on a tall stool against the kitchen wall.

"Beth, look at me." Gabby's voice was compelling, and Beth dragged her eyes from the table to meet her gaze. The vampire took both of Beth's hands in her own cool ones. "I'm sure you're scared. You'd be a fool if you weren't, and I know you're no fool. I'm scared too. But John is good - really good. He's developed a special alloy and needle so that we can use IVs on vamps if we need to. We can get a lot of blood into Mick quickly and that will help. He'll be able to operate on him properly - and he knows how to use the anesthesia so that Mick won't hurt anymore." Gabby hesitated, then grasped Beth's hands harder and added fiercely, "We are going to save him. Do you understand me? We will!"

Beth was too overcome with emotion to answer, but she nodded, tears shimmering in her eyes.

"Gabrielle, come help me with this, please." Dr. Spector looked up at Gabby and motioned for her to join him by the table.

With a last smile for Beth and a squeeze of her hand, Gabrielle hurried back to the table where the physician murmured to her and gestured toward the bag of blood he had hung. She nodded and reached up wrap her hand around the hanging bag, exerting steady pressure to force the life-giving plasma in more quickly.

Spector watched the IV site for a moment to ensure that the specially treated needle did not slip out of place, then moved to Mick's other arm, starting a second IV with normal saline. When Guillermo looked at him questioningly, he explained, "We are going to be pushing the blood in constantly. I need a stable drip to deliver the ketamine and the other analgesics."

The physician went back to his preparations for surgery, leaving Guillermo to wash Mick's chest and the area around the incision he had made to get at the silver fragments. He started first with sterile water, then with betadine, starting at the site of the incision and working his way out in concentric circles, as he had been directed, the rusty-orange liquid staining the wounded man's abdomen.

When he was given those instructions, Guillermo had initially shaken his head. What was this, staging for a TV show? Vampires didn't get infections. Spector had caught his look. "I'm a surgeon and a scientist, Mr. Gasol. I take these precautions out of habit. Habit that I don't want to lose." He had paused to glance at Mick's white face. "And, in this circumstance, Mr. St. John is teetering on the edge of the abyss. If it saves even a scintilla of his resources to battle the silver instead of an infection, then it will be worth the effort."

Guillermo had acquiesced immediately, wondering guiltily if he had inadvertently caused Mick more harm by not taking such steps. Once satisfied that his friend was sufficiently prepped, Gasol positioned sterile drapes on his chest and abdomen, glancing at the physician from time to time to ensure that he was following his directions correctly.

The two new men had also apparently received instructions from Spector. They busied themselves with stacking additional bags on a small gurney behind Gabrielle, bringing in fresh sterile gauze packs and other supplies, and rolling in pressurized tanks that Beth could only assume held the gas mixture that Gabby had referred to. She was amazed at the order that the physician seemed to have established so quickly. Everything she was observing had taken only a few precious minutes to put in place, the vampires moving at a much more rapid pace than humans could manage.

Spector finished his checklist, arranging a variety of gleaming silver instruments, checking the syringes and IV bags laid out on a side table, counting the blood bags, and testing the tanks holding the anesthesia he had requested. Finally, he stepped back and eyed the makeshift operating room he had created, nodding to himself in approval.

"Let Mr. Kostan know we are ready to begin, Guillermo. He wanted to be here when I gave final instructions." To himself, he thought, And he wants to watch me. Mr. Kostan does not yet trust me.

Beth caught her breath at the physician's words, her grip tightening on her injured wrist as if it were Mick's hand she was holding. She was almost afraid for Spector to being to work on him. This was his last chance for survival - as Josef had admitted, they couldn't save him. His life was in the hands of a stranger now. "Hold on, Mick," she whispered.

End Song: Hold On To Me, Lauren Daigle