Hey guys! I apologize again for the lack of update last week--luckily, my hand is back in good shape (with the help of a brace and strong painkiller) and I'll be able to update regularly again. I hope you enjoy this week's chapter, please tell me what you think! )
"Ah, he's such a natural, that Donovan." Bill said appreciatively. "She was like a wild beast until he stepped in. It's his natural charm, don't you think?" He glanced at Isaac, grinning slyly. "It was lucky he was passing by," he stressed.
"Yeah, no kidding. How likely was it that the head of the wing she was being moved to just happened to be passing by? The coincidence is startling!" Isaac exclaimed.
"You two realize that I'm right behind you, of course." Donovan said, shaking his head at their antics.
Isaac and Bill grinned mischievously, looking at each other. "'Course we do," they said together. "How else could we have teased you?"
"You two are impossible." Donovan looked to heaven for patience, a vein pulsing in his temple.
They both turned to grin at him, giving him the peace symbol. "It's just payback for all the times you tried to bite me," Isaac said, pulling back his collar to reveal a few delicate white scars along his neck.
Donovan brushed off their joke, feigning deafness.
"So, is our new pretty lady a vampire too? She sure put a hurtin' on Isaac's hand there," Bill pointed at Isaac's wrist, wrapped from palm to elbow in bandages. Isaac laughed.
"No, actually. They're not sure what she is. Seems harmless enough to me, though." He said, ignoring Isaac's astounded expression and overemphasized pointing at his wrist.
"Wait, not even our resident psychologist prodigy," he flourished the word, "knows what she is?" Bill said, clamping his hand to his chest in a mock heart attack. "Hell has frozen over!"
"Not that I've been informed of," Donovan tried to ignore Bill, suppressing a smile. "Bryce even took up the case himself he's so interested. That's how she got such a nice collection of art supplies. He thinks that'll help figure her out…Oh, by the way," he said, holding out the straightjacket. "Was this here before?" He flipped it front side up, showing the end of a sleeve. A hole the size of a fist was in the fabric, the edges black against the white material. "I noticed it when I took it off of her."
"I bet that's not the only thing you took off of her, you charmer!" Isaac elbowed Donovan, winking.
"It was brand new, that wasn't there before." Bill said, mystified.
"Then take it to Bryce. It might be important." Donovan handed the jacket to Bill.
"Aw, but he's so weird! Not even twenty-five and he always looks fifty by how much he sleeps, and—"Bill turned towards Donovan only to find that he'd turned down another hallway and left him alone with Isaac.
"You know, it's funny," Isaac mused. "I thought Dr. Venturi was a shoe-in for head of department until Dr. Key came along and made those discoveries," Bill commented to his coworker as they walked down the hall.
"Where IS she?" Jack tapped his foot impatiently, looking at his watch. "She's twenty minutes late!" He exclaimed. "Hey shortie!" He said, catching the attention of the plump girl cleaning beer mugs at the other end of the bar. "Have you heard from Rio?"
Sandra rolled her eyes as she walked towards her employer. "No, aren't you supposed to keep you with your employees?"
"Hush or I'll dock your pay," he said absentmindedly. His phone rang and he turned away from his employee to answer it. "This is Jack," he said. "What? I haven't spoken to you in years…Okay, I won't mention it…Yes, and of course I know the situation with her. It was a personal favor…What happened? Are you sure...Of course I'll watch…Yes, with all of my eyes. But you should remind him that he owes me for last time." Jack heaved a sigh and hung up his phone. He turned back around only to be startled by Sandra standing right behind him with a raised eyebrow.
"It's rude to eavesdrop, you know."
"Did something happen?" She asked, ignoring his comment. "That was a very…Weird conversation."
"It's none of your business, nosey. It was just Rio. She won't be coming in to work for a while. You'll be taking over. Now, call Jacob or someone and see if they can fill in for her."
"A Rio that you haven't talked to in years?" Sandra said, prodding.
Jack ignored her. "Shoo," he flapped his hand at her.
"Calling," she said as she rolled her eyes and flipped open a bright pink cell phone.
Jack sighed and crossed the room, flipping the switch to his neon sign into the "on" position.
He looked out the window at the sun setting. It feels like something's about to happen, he thought.
Bryce was lying splayed over his desk, papers everywhere, fast asleep. His forehead, normally creased with strenuous thought was smooth. His mouth was open slightly, fogging the glass of water next to his head. The corner of his mouth glistened with dampness, threatening to ruin the papers under his face. His wristwatch ticked on, only seconds from 9:00 AM. The young doctor's intercom buzzed loudly, rudely awakening him from his slumber.
"I'm awake," he half-mumbled, jumping to a sitting position automatically. He looked around, searching for the buzzing sound, but didn't find it until his secretary buzzed the intercom again. Still very sleepy, he pressed the red button and mumbled into the speaker. "Yes? What is it?"
A tinny voice chirruped back at him instantly. "There are two orderlies here to see you. They say they have information on a patient."
Bryce's eyes fluttered and he jerked his falling head back up. "Can't they go see someone else?" He asked pitifully.
"They says it's about a patient named Rio and that Donovan sent them," the secretary continued mercilessly.
Bryce's curiosity overpowered his lack of sleep. "Send them in right away," he said. Standing, he took a gulp of water and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. He yawned and rubbed the crust from his eyes before the orderlies walked into the office, holding the singed straightjacket.
"Good morning sir," Isaac said respectfully towards the man that was obviously younger than he.
Bill raised an eyebrow at his comrade, but only inclined his head respectfully towards Bryce without extending greetings.
"And to you both," Bryce said, still sleep deprived, trying to stifle another yawn.
"We moved Rio to the room you had prepared first thin this morning," Said Isaac, his personality strangely businesslike. "We had to put her in a straightjacket, she went crazy. She even bit me," he held up his bandaged wrist. "Donovan was nearby though, and I don't know how he did it, but he calmed her down and walked her to her new room. The reason I'm here," He said, getting to the heart of the matter, "is this." He held the straightjacket out to Bryce; the dark edges of the hole a stark contrast to the plain white material. "Somehow that hole in the sleeve appeared in between the time we put it on her and took it off."
Bryce reached out and took the straightjacket, examining it closely. It looked almost exactly like a large cigarette burn; the edges of the fist-sized hole were signed and darkly discolored. "Did she come into contact with anything hot while she was wearing it?"
Isaac paused in thought, ignoring Bill's playful grin. "No…" He said slowly.
Bill ignored his comedic partner's thoughtfulness and butted in. "Not unless you count Donovan, whom I'm sure any girl would have the hots for." He and Isaac laughed raucously. Still sleepy, Bryce stared, not understanding them. Their laughs turned into awkward coughs in less than three seconds.
"No," Bill said. "Nothing at all," he said, looking at the ceiling.
Bryce didn't answer for a few moments, his eyelids fluttering. "Okay then." He dropped the straightjacket over the back of his chair thoughtfully. "Thank you for bringing this to me," he turned back towards the two, ushering them out of the office. "If there are any more developments of this sort, I expect you to contact me!" He tried to smile at them as they hurried away.
As soon as the two of them were out of sight, he turned to the secretary. "Is there anywhere I can get some caffeine? Coffee, espresso, maybe an energy drink?" He asked hopefully.
A few minutes later, Bryce retreated back into his office, his arms laden with three coffees and miscellaneous packages. He popped the lid of a pill bottle and sat down at his computer. He set the packages and two of the coffees down while he juggled a couple small white pills out of a bottle that advertised instant alertness with caffeine. He took a large gulp of coffee to down the caffeine pills.
In an instant he accessed Rio's medical file and found what he wanted. He pulled up an image of Rio's hand onto the screen. When she had been admitted, they made records of all current injuries. Koenma had made this regular procedure so as not to be blamed for any unnecessary bodily harm, and normally it was a waste of money, but this time Bryce was thankful for Koenma's paranoia. He zoomed on the picture, studying it closely for a few moments. He sighed, annoyed, and leaned back in his chair, gulping down the rest of his first coffee.
It looks just the same as any other burn! He wracked his brain for a logical explanation to the phenomenon.
Grabbing his second coffee, he took a sip and grimaced. Nasty stuff, no matter how he looked at it. He looked thoughtfully at her file, wondering why he couldn't find a connection between her artistic ability and her hand. If she was being possessed, he reasoned, it wouldn't show in her hand. A simple burn couldn't grant any sort of talent, much less the level of talent that Rio had.
He pondered over it as he finished off his second coffee. Maybe they're unrelated? A voice in his mind queried. Bryce was wary to agree, hopeful of finding some more information that would explain Rio to him. Unfortunately it was much easier to comprehend. It still left both situations hanging. They would need to run tests on her hand, Bruce decided. He opened Yusuke's case file and began going through it.
Bo finished off his second glass of wine, feeling at ease. "And then I slapped her. I felt kinda bad about that later though," he confessed, his words sounding remorseful. "She was a good kid. I was ready to explode though, and I didn't want to burn anything. I didn't actually think she'd leave, she never left before!" He exclaimed, trying to make sense of it. "But she left! Didn't come back, either. 'Course then I knew you'd be mad, but I couldn't let her do art, you told me not to let her!" Bo tried to justify himself, pleading for understanding.
"I see," Daichi said smoothly, his warm voice had a slight chill to it.
"Ungh," Bo grunted, gripping his stomach.
"The wine go down the wrong way?" The demon said, smiling wryly.
"Yeah, it hurts." Bo said, his vision slightly foggy as he looked up at Daichi.
"Well, holy water will do that to you," Daichi said with a resigned sigh, as if Bo was a child that needed to be scolded for eating too many sweets.
"H-holy water?" A spark of fear reignited behind Bo's glazed eyes.
"Holy water. Judging by how much of it you drank," Daichi picked up the wine bottle and swished its contents around. "You being a full-blooded demon...You should be dead before the sun sets."
"N-no! Please! I'm your loyal servant! Don't let me die! I can get her back!" Bo pleaded as the realization of what was happening hit him; panic fringing his voice.
Daichi pinned Bo against the wall with his slender fingers, strangling him. "You can get her back? She should never have been lost in the first place, you incompetent imbecile!" Daichi yelled and hit him across the face. Bo fell to the floor with a welt on his face where one of Daichi's elaborate rings had hit his cheekbone. "You have failed me once before this already, don't you remember Bo?" He knelt next to him and trailed his fingers up Bo's chest. "This was supposed to be you making it up to me. How can you make it up to me twice? My patience grows thin!" His silky voice growled roughly. He reached out and caressed Bo's cheek with his hand, watching Bo's eyes dilate with fear. "Oh, you're growing cold, that's not too god for you, is it, firey?" His smile glinted with malice.
Bo whimpered in pain as he tried to formulate an argument. Shots of pain ran through his stomach. "Please!" He cried out, unable to even defend himself. "Anything..." his voice broke.
"Well, the only way for you to be able to survive holy water is to vomit it out of your system," Daichi mused, looking down at the whimpering mess that was his servant. "You have wronged me," he looked down at Bo with a sneer, inviting him to grovel.
"Please," Bo cried out in agony. "Forgive me!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face.
"It just so happens that I know a way to induce said vomiting," Daichi pulled Bo up by the collar and sat him on the couch. He leaned close to Bo's face and smiled, his fangs glinted. "My venom."
Bo's eyes widened in realization, and instantly he tried to push Daichi away. "No!" Bo screamed, trying desperately to escape from his master's clutches.
Daichi laughed a low, cruel laugh, flipping the flailing Bo under him and pressing him into the couch. He pulled Bo's hands above his head and dug his claws through them, literally pinning him to the upholstery, ignoring Bo's screams of protest. Baring his fangs, Daichi bit Bo's neck. Once. Twice. Thrice. He dragged the poisonous fangs across Bo's collarbone, leaving a gaping flesh wound. He bit his wrists, his arms, his chest, neck and face countless times. Bo's agonized screams echoed again and again until he had no voice left, and then only Daichi's laughter could be heard. On the lower floors, the demons and humans serving Daichi alike would look up and shudder, some understanding more than others the agony Bo was enduring.
Minutes that felt like days to Bo passed. Once Daichi was satisfied, he stood and wiped his bloody mouth off delicately with a handkerchief, not even looking at the mangled body of his servant. Come and get him, Daichi sent his thoughts to Whit. What a pity he couldn't scream more than that... He smiled to himself, not caring if Whit overheard his thoughts.
The elevator opened and Whit bowed to Daichi. He was used to being ignored, so he went to Bo's body and started to pick him up, his eyes downcast.
"Get him out of here before he messes up my carpet," he said contemptuously. "Oh, and Whit," he turned to look at the man. "Don't let him die. I want you to take care of him."
Whit opened his mouth to protest, or maybe it just opened in astonishment. Daichi raised his eyebrows, in a questioning, yet still threatening move. He quickly closed his mouth. "Of course, whatever you wish," Whit said with lowered eyes as the elevator doors closed. Retching sounds could be distinguished over hte hum of the elevator almost as soon as it clsoed.