Chapter 47

Fix You

Author's note: While I love the end song by Coldplay, this cover of it feels to me like it's coming from Beth…

Intro Song: Drive, Incubus

Ben Talbot sat in his office, staring at Mick St. John's file for long minutes after Carl Davis left. With the clarity of hindsight, he realized that pressuring the P.I. into taking on the San Diego case with Davis had been risky. Hell, getting involved in the case at all now looked like an ill-advised venture. When he had first discussed it with his mentor, it had seemed like a golden opportunity for positive press - probable drug cartel involvement, violent murders, and children among the victims... And his mentor, Edward Garfield, had pointed out that if he could find a connection to the HEM cartel - and to Josh's murder - why that would have been icing on the cake. But now, it seemed that all of his carefully-laid plans for his career could be falling apart.

Garfield, with his connections to high government officials and political savvy, was seldom wrong. The old family friend's sage advice to him on strategies to advance his career had always been spot on. Until now...

"What a goddamn mess!" he growled to the room. Opening the file on the San Diego case, he combed through it again, spreading the paperwork out across his deck and making meticulous notes. Finally, he pushed back from the desk, looking at the mess in frustration. There was nothing there that gave any hint of the disaster that had awaited Davis and St. John. What was he going to say to the press? The ADA scrubbed at his face with his hands. Worrying about the press – wasn't that just what Davis had berated him about before he stormed out? He was feeling increasingly guilty about his attitude toward the disastrous trip to San Diego. Maybe he's right. Maybe this job is turning me into an insensitive asshole. St. John had been on the case at his personal request. Request? Or was it blackmail? The P.I. was obviously in a relationship with Beth Turner, who had just lost her boyfriend in a shooting a few months ago - and with Beth working for the DA's office now, it fell to him to notify her of this latest tragedy in her life.

With a start, he realized he hadn't attempted to reach Beth since Davis had left and he buried himself in the case file. Shit. He needed to rectify that right away. Snatching up his phone, Talbot paced back and forth as he listened to it ring. "Come on, Beth, pick up," he muttered. A few seconds later, her voicemail greeting sounded in his ear. "You've reached Beth Turner. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

"Dammit!"

Talbot dialed her cell once more with the same result, frustrated and concerned that there was no answer - until he noticed the time. Almost two A.M.! He'd had no idea it was so late. Idiot, she's asleep, he thought to himself, briefly toying with the idea of waiting until morning. Admitting to himself that the thought was born of cowardice, he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door to Beth's apartment. If he did nothing else right, at least he'd be man enough to inform her of this tragedy in person.

The elegant head of the New York City vampire community paced up and down in her living room, checking her watch every few minutes as she waited on word from Gabrielle about Mick's condition. The only communications Victoria Silver had had since John Spector and her subordinate had left New York on the lightning-fast Cessna Citation jet she had chartered, had been a brief update while they were still in the air, after the physician had spoken with the coroner's assistant working on St. John, followed by a short text from Gabby, announcing that they had landed, a little over four hours after they departed. In some ways, she wasn't surprised by the lack of contact. She had almost come to blows with the younger vampire earlier in the evening and they had not parted on good terms.

Josef's frantic call for help had caught her by surprise. He had started by telling her that he was calling to ask for help for Mick, then stammered out a quick apology for not reaching out to her sooner – an apology that she had cut short. "Josef, we all have to do what we think is right. I won't pretend I wasn't hurt by it but I understand your thinking this was a New York problem and not wanting to get involved. Now, tell me what you need."

Victoria's first act had been to summon Gabrielle to help with the arrangements to get Spector to Los Angeles as quickly as possible. When she was informed about the situation, Gabby had insisted on accompanying the physician to Los Angeles, an action that the elder vampire strenuously opposed. Silver's words had been blunt. "You don't need to go. There is nothing you can do to help. Mick needs medical attention, not an assistant P.I. - and from what Josef told me, he'll likely be dead before John can get there anyway."

Gabrielle had been frightened and outraged by her statement and shouted at her superior. "I can't believe you just said that! What's wrong with you?! Mick and Josef are our friends!" Then, seeing the look of anger on Victoria's face, Gabby had struggled to get herself under control before continuing. "V, I know you're upset that Josef didn't contact you after you were attacked. I don't blame you - I would have felt the same. But that doesn't mean that we shouldn't support them when they need our help. Especially Mick..." She faltered for a moment, then finished, "You like Mick. He helped save you!"

"This has nothing to do with Josef, Gabrielle, and I'll thank you to not attempt to psychoanalyze my actions - it's not your strong suit." Victoria's tone was testy. "And, yes, I like Mick, May I remind you, I am helping - I'm sending John at a time when he really should be here. He can help. You cannot."

"I want to go. I'm going, V."

"Gabby, I need you here."

"Not as much as I need to be there. This isn't open for debate, V. I'm going." The younger vampire's eyes had flashed blue-white and the tips of her fangs had shown on her full lower lip. She was furious, her slight body shaking with her effort to master her wrath.

Victoria could easily sense the other vampire's anger. It was unlike Gabby and it clearly spelled out how worried she was over Mick's situation. She had reluctantly given in. "Alright. You win, Gabrielle. But I'm only agreeing to this because I care about you. And I need you back as soon as possible - in one piece. At least take a couple of security people with you."

Gabby had refused. "I don't know what we'll find when we get there and I can move more quickly on my own. I'll make sure John is safe."

Seeing that Victoria was about to protest, the younger vampire had jumped in. "I feel pretty damn sure I could tear the fucking head off anyone who gets in my way, V... This has not been a good week."

Victoria had tried to impress Gabby with Spector's importance to their community, reiterating the danger they were currently in with the frequent attacks, adding, "We need John back - and I have no idea what Josef and Mick have gotten themselves into out there - so be careful. Watch your back."

Gabrielle had almost flown out of the room, anxious to get away before her leader changed her mind.

Victoria had called Josef back to update him on their plans. "I've chartered the fastest commercial jet in the world. The only thing faster is a fucking fighter jet, Josef. John and Gabrielle are on their way to the airport now and I am told that this plane can get from New York to L.A. in just under four hours. Keep me posted. I- well, you know, I like Mick."

"Yeah, a little too much, Victoria." Josef had replied sarcastically. "Thank you, though. It means a lot to me and I'll make it up to you. No matter how things work out." On that grim note, he had hung up.

Since then, however, she had only received the two communications from her subordinate - and nothing at all from Josef.

Victoria did not do waiting well and her restlessness was heightened by her anxiety over her second-in-command and physician being gone just when things seemed to be coming to a head in New York.

Perhaps it was time to start asking their prisoner some questions...

Preparations completed for the surgery on Mick, Beth stepped forward as Guillermo left the room to fetch Josef. She picked her way carefully around the tables and trays to stand next to Mick, who had been unresponsive throughout the preparations. She reached out to caress his cheek with her good hand.

"Please don't touch him!"

Beth jumped when Spector barked at her, withdrawing her hand reluctantly. "I'm sorry. I thought sterilization wasn't necessary, that vamps didn't get infections." He needs me!

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows, but held her tongue, replacing the now-empty blood bag with another, already expert at disconnecting and re-attaching the IV tubing. She immediately began to squeeze the bag to force the fluid in, all the while watching the interchange between the young woman and John Spector. You're wrong, John.

The two unidentified vampire assistants said nothing, but exchanged worried glances and retreated to a corner of the room, obviously wanting no part of this argument.

Spector softened at the stricken look on Beth's face. "I'm sorry I yelled, Miss Turner. You are correct - normally vampires would not suffer from infections that would plague humans. However, I believe that they contract them, just like they can still be injured, but they are able to heal themselves before infections can take hold. In Mr. St. John's case, his system is so compromised by silver poisoning and the extent of his injuries, I just cannot be sure that would occur. We can't possibly create a completely sterile environment here, but I want to do all I can to minimize the risk of introducing infectious agents."

Josef and Guillermo had hurried back into the room during the conversation. Kostan, glancing at Beth's face, stepped forward. "I appreciate your efforts, doctor, but occasionally, science is trumped by...other things. I can assure you, the benefit to Mick of knowing that Beth is here, would far outweigh any minimal risk of contamination. I'm afraid, in this one instance, I need to overrule you."

The physician did not back down. "This is my jurisdiction, Mr. Kostan. I know these are your friends, and this is your... facility... but I have to be in control of the situation or I cannot operate." He met the vampire's gaze and there was silence for a full thirty seconds as the two stared each other down.

Finally, Josef repeated, in a soft, but deadly, voice, "In this one instance... I need to overrule you."

"I second that, John." Gabrielle spoke for the first time. She had seen - and sensed - Mick responding to Beth's presence. Her gut told her that this young woman was vital to his survival.

"Give them a minute," Josef said, his tone warning the other man not to fight him. I'm not backing down, you pompous asshole.

Spector, clearly displeased, said nothing, but motioned to Beth and stepped back. She immediately moved back to Mick's side, murmuring to him and gently touching his face before running her fingers through his hair as if trying to memorize the feel of him. She seemed unaware of the tears that began streaming down her face, making no attempt to wipe them away. They pooled on his dry lips when she bent down to kiss him.

The scene was intimate and touching; the room's other occupants immediately felt like voyeurs.

Beth was oblivious to all but Mick. He did not open his eyes, but his head twitched in her direction and she felt an answering pressure when she squeezed his hand. He knows I'm here, she thought, anguished that he could not talk to her. Bending back down, she put her lips next to his ear, murmuring words of love meant only for him, as Spector and the vampires waited.

The agonized scream echoed through the small room, the sound careening from wall to wall until it finally diminished to a strangled sob. The originator of that scream stared at his right hand where two fingers now stood at right angles to the remaining digits, positions they were never meant to assume. Tears streamed down the young man's face as he fought - and failed - to master the excruciating pain that started in his mangled hand and shot up his arm. Even his teeth hurt - whether from referred pain from the fingers themselves or from clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth against the pain, he could not have said. A bully most of his life, he was well-versed in the administering of pain, but not in receiving it.

"So, Mr. Engels - if that is, indeed, your name - are you ready to have a conversation with me?" a soft voice inquired.

Jason Engels shook his head to clear it, groaning as even that small movement sent fresh waves of agony shooting through him. Blinking away tears, he focused on the source of his pain in astonishment. How could this beautiful, exquisitely-groomed woman break his fingers with a flick of her wrist, seemingly as easily as she might break a pretzel stick. I must be hallucinating; they probably drugged me.

He had heard stories, of course. Everyone who worked for Crucis had heard stories about vampires - their superior strength, speed, senses... He hadn't believed them, wasn't even completely sure he believed in the reality of vampires - until now.

Engels had been cooling his heels in a barren room since he'd regained consciousness after the night of the attack on Durin Scanlin. He'd seen no sign of his fellow Crucis operatives and had to assume they were either being confined to a room like he was…or dead. His only clear memory of the night was the sight of a beautiful Asian vampire baring her fangs and leaping at him. Everything before and after that moment was a blur until he'd awakened here. There were no windows, and his watch and phone had been taken away, so he had no idea how much time had elapsed, or even if it were day or night. What he did know was that he was in a great deal of trouble – and pain.

His reddened, pain-filled eyes met the blue ones of his tormentor for a long moment. Then, he watched in horror as Victoria Silver's eyes turned an unnatural, blue-tinged white, the color like that of an Antarctic glacier - and just as cold. Bared fangs prompted him to jerk in terror, struggling to get away from this... monster! Tied as he was to the chair, he was helpless to stop her as she reached out a well-manicured hand toward his injured one, the movement seeming to come in slow motion. He braced himself for the pain he now knew to expect, swallowing hard to force back the bile rising in his throat.

Her fingers delicately stroked his hand, eliciting fresh waves of pain, before settling around his middle finger. "Well, Mr. Engels?" Victoria paused for a full thirty seconds, allowing the anticipation of more agony to settle in on her captive. When no response was forthcoming, she shook her head. "Very well. We'll do this your way."

With an almost imperceptible flick of her wrist, that finger joined the others, looking like a line of toppled tombstones in the graveyard of his ruined right hand. Fresh, piercing screams made their way out of his wide-stretched mouth, his head thrown back as his body spasmed, seeking release from the endless, throbbing torment.

"No more! Please! For the love of god, no more!" he blubbered.

The vampire leaned in close. "You know how to make this stop, Mr. Engels." She paused, considering him, the look of a predator in her eyes. "Although, perhaps we need to be on a first-name basis; after all, it does appear as if we will be spending a lot of time together." Without waiting for a response, she broke the forefinger on his other hand.

It was too much for the young man; he passed out, overcome by a combination of terror, pain, and shock.

Victoria sighed as she contemplated the prisoner, his head hanging limply, chin on chest. "Men just aren't as tough as they used to be," she said to the room at large.

"Perhaps we need to go a little easier on him, Victoria. It won't do us much good if he dies from shock." The young-appearing man who stepped away from the wall carried a concerned expression underneath a shock of thick, dark brown hair.

"Easier?!" Victoria snapped, glaring hostilely at the assistant who was taking over for Gabrielle during her absence. "Jonathan, are you aware of what happened out in California? What's been going on here?! I don't think I'm being nearly hard enough!" She reached out and pulled the unconscious young man's head up by his hair to study his face. "And, when he wakes up, I'm going to rectify that."

In the silent kitchen, as the vampires and the waiting Dr. Spector looked on, Beth finally stepped back from Mick, her hand still resting on his, as if she couldn't bear to break the connection. "Thank you," she mouthed to Josef, wiping her face, then nodding to the physician. "Where do you want me to stand, doctor?"

"You can't be in here during the surgery, Miss Turner. That is not negotiable!" the physician snapped when he saw her open her mouth to protest.

Catching Josef's eye, he continued, "I mean it, Mr. Kostan. The room is inadequate enough as it is. I already have Gabrielle, Guillermo, Ryder, and those two...assistants...of yours." He gestured to the corner where the anonymous vampires were trying their best to be invisible. "I will not operate with unnecessary personnel in here - and Miss Turner is barely able to stand upright at this point!"

Josef signed inwardly. When had his life spiraled out of control? "Alright, Dr. Spector. You have compromised, now we will. Beth, we leave when he starts. No arguments." Any other time, I'd have you by the throat for this...

Spector nodded, pleased.

"However, doctor, we all need to know exactly what you will be doing." Josef's lips twitched slightly as he spoke and he leaned toward the physician as if trying to impress the seriousness of his words on him by his physical presence. Intimidated, Spector involuntarily took a step back. Good, we understand each other. "We will watch from the surveillance system Ryder England has set up. And, as you mentioned, you have my...assistants."

He inclined his head toward the two youthful-appearing men sitting in the corner, then looked up, meaningfully, at the small, high-tech cameras in the corners of the room. "Please don't take any of this as a sign of mistrust. It's just that Mick is very important to us all." There was no warmth in his smile and his eyes glittered with intensity.

"Certainly, certainly." Spector rubbed his hands together nervously. "Well, as you can tell, we have started lowering the temperature in this room - the colder, the better, for Mr. St. John, so we will strike a happy medium between what he needs and what I can tolerate and still operate."

He smiled at Beth, who had moved, almost instinctively, to stand next to Josef. "I know it had to be difficult for you to see Mr. St. John being operated on - expertly, I might add - by Mr. Gasol without the benefit of anesthesia. That is certainly not optimal, as pain generates shock, and shock is an enemy of humans and vampires alike, I believe. Most of what you see here is designed to help alleviate his pain and suffering, and anesthetize him for the more extensive surgery that, I am afraid, is still required." He paused to put a hand on Guillermo's shoulder. "Mr. Gasol's actions, while stressful, were necessary due to the length of time it took me to get here. I firmly believe that without his heroic efforts to remove as much silver as possible, your friend would already be dead - poisoned by the bullet fragments and silver dust." The morgue assistant nodded silently at the acknowledgement of his efforts.

When no response came from Josef, Spector resumed his recitation. "So that you understand the process, let me continue. I have found that isoflurane gas - used in a mixture sufficient to knock out an adult silverback gorilla - helps to put a vampire under. Quite honestly, the amount used would kill a human. I combine that with a continuous infusion of ketamine, tiletamine and zolazepam, to provide on-going anesthetic and analgesic effects. It was the inability to deliver these in such a fashion that prevented the use of these agents successfully prior to now. I have studied-"

"I don't need the med school lecture, Doctor," Josef interrupted harshly, prompting raised eyebrows from Gabrielle, who was busy hooking up the fifth bag of blood for Mick. "Just give me the 30,000-foot view of what you plan to do."

"Yes. Yes, of course. My apologies." With a glance at his patient on the table, Spector hurried on. "Mercifully, due to the severity of his injuries, he is weakened enough that I anticipate the drugs will hold their effects longer than I had originally expected. That is one piece of good news."

"Well, I'm glad there's some good news," Josef replied sarcastically.

"Of course I didn't mean it quite that way." The physician cleared his throat nervously. "You should know that I will be extending this incision quite a bit. Mr. Gasol has done a good job of retrieving most of the silver fragments from Mr. St. John's abdomen, and I will remove the remaining pieces. However, the x-rays that I have at my disposal, thanks to the portable unit your men procured, show significant additional silver deposits higher in his chest. Removing those and repairing any damage will be a priority."

The physician glanced at Gabby, who was still watching over the transfusion of blood into the unconscious vampire from the other side of the makeshift operating table. "We also need to completely transfuse Mr. St. John a minimum of three-to-four times over – and likely much more than that."

Seeing the question in Beth's eyes, he added, "I am concerned that those bullets, exploding as they did, would have scattered silver dust throughout his body as well. That would tend to drift through the blood vessel walls and accumulate in the bloodstream. By continuously infusing him and replacing his blood, I hope to flush the majority of that out of his system as well. It will be Gabrielle's job to keep a constant supply of fresh blood going."

"Mr. England, here, has been assigned to monitor the gas levels and help Gabrielle with the medications when they need to be injected. Mr. Gasol will be my surgical assistant. These young men...," he gestured toward the corner, "...will be our runners. We will need additional supplies as the surgery progresses, as well as more x-rays to check our progress. Mr. England, go ahead and start the gas. "

As Ryder fitted the mask to Mick's face and carefully adjusted the mixture as he'd been instructed, Spector paused, fidgeting nervously with the IV setup next to the injured vampire, working up his courage to finish what needed to be said. "You need to understand, both of you, that this is a makeshift setup that we have here. I will do my best, but I cannot guarantee the outcome. Mr. St. John's injuries are much more significant than I had anticipated. I won't lie to you, Mr. Kostan. Or to Miss Turner here. If either of you are so inclined, this would be a good time to pray."

The silence in the kitchen took on a life of its own. The vampires working on Mick had all heard the physician's comments; the words seemed to suck all the air out of the room. Gabrielle stood with her hand frozen on the bag of blood she was emptying into Mick's veins, while Guillermo and Ryder exchanged stricken looks. The strangers in the corner shifted uneasily.

Beth, exhibiting a strength she didn't know she had, reached out to Spector, placing her hand on his forearm. "We know you will do everything you can. Come on, Josef, we need to let them get started."

She corralled Kostan, who seemed incapable of speech after the physician's pronouncement, and escorted him to the door, pausing to take one last look at the still figure on the table, surrounded now by tubes, equipment...and vampires. I love you. Don't leave me. Reluctantly, Beth trailed Josef out of the room.

"All right, Guillermo, he should be well under by now." After a glance around the table at each of Mick's friends, he said, "Hand me that scalpel..."

End Song: Fix You, Fearless Soul