Deadly Secrets (Forever and a Night Book 3)

by Lana Campbell

  The blood loss was reaching a critical point. His shirt was drenched, and there was a sizable pool of it growing around his upper body. Chelsie wished to God she had a towel, something, but there was nothing available to staunch the bleeding. She shucked her shirt, wadded it up, then pressed both hands over the wound. He needed help now. If Asa didn’t get into surgery fast… She couldn’t afford to finish that thought.

  Mere seconds later Christian appeared and dropped to his knees on the opposite side of Asa’s body. “I’m here. What have we got?”

  Chelsie’s gaze shot up, melding with Christian’s. “It’s not good.” She could tell he’d seen enough to know she was right.

  “Tiffany’s bringing around my truck. I’ve got supplies in the back for emergencies.”

  “I know.” Christian’s truck was equivalent to an ambulance, as was Asa’s. They were always prepared for a call like this with an accident involving a vampire. Every vampire in town had their numbers on speed dial for emergency purposes. They functioned as far more than OBs for their kind because vampire doctors were in short supply, and an injured vampire didn’t have the luxury of calling 911. Under a microscope, their blood looked nothing like a human’s.

  Christian swallowed hard. “He’s going to make it.”

  “Of course he is.” Like her, Christian knew Asa’s wound was probably mortal, but Chelsie refused to let medical logic overwhelm her. Her time in life with Asa could not be this short. God could not be that cruel.

  She gave one quick glance at the stage, where the bouncers were now cuffing Chad with zip ties. He lay face down, quivering with the effects of a tazer shock. Cajun’s bouncers carried tazers because it was an enormous bar and people often got out of hand—but never like this in her experience.

  “He has a pulse, and he’s breathing. This is good,” Christian said.

  Chelsie nodded briskly. There wasn’t much more either of them could do until Tiffany arrived.

  Come on. Come on. Come on, Tiffany!

  Her heart nearly stopped when he took in a shallow breath and a foamy, pink substance drained from the side of his mouth. There was also a sucking sound emanating from the wound. “Oh, God, his lung is punctured.”

  “I see that,” Christian growled then looked toward the front entrance where mayhem ensued. People were fleeing the bar like rats on a sinking ship. “Where the hell is Tiffany?”

  Screaming and chaos reigned through the bar. Several people literally jumped over Asa’s prone body in their haste to get to an exit. Not one person stopped to ask them if they could help, not that anyone could. It was just sad and made her ashamed to be a member of the human race.

  Moments later, Tiffany burst through the front doors. She shoved her way through the wild crowd, carrying a crude, manual stretcher—meaning, without legs and wheels. Christian and Tiffany wrestled Asa’s massive form onto it. He had to weigh at least two sixty, but lifting him was nothing for Christian and Tiffany. Chelsie followed beside them, continuing to apply pressure on the wound while they carried him to Christian’s truck.

  Getting him into the back was tough, despite the fact it was a huge, custom, crew cab Dodge Ram. The bed had been designed to house the supplies of an ambulance, but the vehicle wasn’t geared to treat a gunshot wound victim in transit. The crudeness of what they were about to attempt terrified Chelsie.

  Once Asa was settled and Christian had retrieved the necessary medical supplies from the back, they all kicked into gear. Tiffany drove like a wild woman—her destination: the V clinic—while Chelsie and Christian knelt on the wide floor in the back seat and worked on Asa.

  Christian had an IV in him so fast, Chelsie’s vision could barely track his movements. If she hadn’t been so terrified for Asa, she would have been envious of such efficiency.

  “I need your blood, Chels. Give me your arm. Do your best to keep pressure with your free hand,” Christian said.

  She obliged instantly without question. Asa needed units fast. During all of this, she’d avoided looking at Asa’s face as much as possible. She couldn’t. He had to be anonymous to her right now so she could help him. There would be plenty of time later to lose her mind.

  ***

  Chelsie had donned some scrubs and a surgical gown and now scrubbed in for surgery by herself, due to the fact Christian had done so with vampire speed. Christian, along with Noah, was already in the OR with Asa. Tiffany had called Noah on the drive, and since Noah was on call tonight he was ready and waiting for them in the OR when they arrived with Asa.

  Christian and Noah would, of course, perform the surgery because beyond their field of choice, he and Noah had hundreds of years of various medicine under their belts. Chelsie would play the role of a surgical nurse because there was simply no one else in the building skilled to assist in an open-heart procedure. She was happy to do anything needed to help save Asa’s life, but if she couldn’t get her trembles under control, she’d likely be more trouble than she was worth during the operation.

  As soon as she was scrubbed in, she rushed into the OR. Chelsie could tell by the look in Christian’s eyes that he was in surgical weeds, but they’d managed much in that short period of time. Christian and Noah had Asa under full anesthesia, with an endotracheal tube attached to a ventilator and a chest tube for his punctured lung.

  “What do you need me to do, Christian? Noah?” she asked as she went to the table beside Noah. She looked down into Asa’s chest at his beating heart. “Oh, God,” she muttered, wanting to look away, desperate to flee, knowing she could do neither.

  Noah answered first. “Asa told me last week you and he are life mates. I’m so very sorry for what’s happened to him.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. Chelsie wasn’t prepared for this. She’d completely miscounted the emotional costs to herself because she’d been too busy thinking about helping Asa.

  Her hands started to shake, then her whole body. Visions of him flashed and popped through her head. His smile. His deep, sexy laugh. Conversations. His last words to her: “I love you, Chelsie.” And for each of those things, so many memories paired with them in those quick seconds, a squeeze to her own heart like a vice.

  “Chelsie, you’re going to have to suck it up, darlin’. Asa doesn’t have time for you to freak out right now. Okay?”

  No, he did not. “Got it. What do you want me to do?”

  “Noah, I need you to take hold of this secondary clamp so I can seal the artery. Chelsie, just keep suctioning and swabbing the blood so I can see what the hell I’m doing.”

  Noah gently took the clamp from Christian’s left hand.

  “Chelsie, please get busy, darlin’. I can’t see what I’m doing here.”

  Chelsie shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “You can and you have to. God only gave me two hands, and right now I need three or four. Suck it up, or Asa will die.”

  Her gaze slashed to his. There was fear there—way too much—which did the trick.

  She would do this no matter the state of her mind and emotions. She heaved in a huge breath, shook her arms away from her sides, then got to work.

  Soon she was able to see the damage. The bullet had nicked his left anterior descending artery. How in God’s name was he still alive? Prayer had to be part of the reason. His unconscious determination to live probably factored in, and the fact they’d gotten him into surgery in a relatively short period of time. However, this surgery was barely underway. Asa’s life still dangled in the fickle grips of the fates.

  Through the course of the operation, the mood was grim and the conversation only task related. Hers were simple, which gave her ample time to do some thinking on Asa’s chances for survival. There was his punctured lung, which by itself would be a critical injury. Multiple complications could occur later like pneumonia and pulmonary embolisms, and the list went on. Asa’s road to recovery held such a vast number of potential pitfalls. Chelsie wished she wasn’t aware of them, because in thi
s instance, ignorance would have been a very relished, temporary bliss.

  She mentally cursed Chad. God forgive her, but right now she loathed him. The only good thing that would come out of all this was the fact that he’d never make bail again. She didn’t know much about the law, but she did know that an accused felon with a gun, firing shots into a public place, was a criminal who no sane judge on earth would turn a blind eye to.

  Christian repaired the damaged artery and all of the subsequent injury the bullet had caused, which was fairly extensive, including numerous small bleeders that the bullet had also nicked on its nasty, vicious path. When it was finally over, Chelsie let out a breath of relief. Step one of Asa’s recovery was complete.

  Once Asa had been moved to an ICU unit to recover, she settled into a chair beside his bed, where she intended to remain until he opened his eyes again. Knowing the full scope of his injuries and his current critical condition, Chelsie feared that day might not arrive. So much could go wrong. A vampire might be physically stronger than a human, but they were no more immune to complications after major surgery.

  Chelsie took hold of his hand, which was a bit cold. She rubbed it between hers to warm it. “Come back to me, Asa. Wherever you are, I’m believing you can hear me because I know your soul is meshed with mine. I can’t live without you. I don’t care how trite that sounds. You know it’s true.”

  Of course, he didn’t answer. He was still unconscious and on a ventilator and wouldn’t have been able to verbally respond had he been alert. Mind to mind maybe, but due to the after-effects of the anesthesia, he’d be out for a while yet.

  Chelsie glanced at the monitor tracking his vitals and sighed. They were a little less impressive than what she might have wished for, but she reminded herself of all he’d gone through. He was receiving the best care known to medical science. They had complete state-of-the-art equipment, which was able to handle almost any procedure from routine to well, this.

  The sound of the recovery suite’s door sliding open made Chelsie start, and her gaze shot up. Christian entered and smiled. It was forced, Chelsie could tell. Asa was his best friend. She might be going through her own fresh hell, but she knew Christian suffered a similar one.

  “Hi. He seems to be doing okay.”

  Christian nodded and glanced at the monitors then Asa. “He’s stable.”

  The words “for now” were left lingering in the air.

  “I called Asa’s parents a little while ago. They live in Houston. I expect them to arrive in a few hours. Your mother and Nathan are in the waiting room down the hall with Tiffany. She called them. They’d like to see you.”

  Chelsie rubbed Asa’s cold hand again. She didn’t want to leave him until he opened those beautiful green eyes of his and smiled at her. Believing he would make a full recovery was the only acceptable course of action. However, she had questions to ask her mom and Nathan that couldn’t be uttered in this room. Chelsie held to the belief that some unconscious patients could hear conversation, and unpleasant things were certain to be discussed with her family.

  “I’ll meet with them in the hallway here. I refuse to go any farther than that because I don’t want to be far from him. Will you stay with him while I do?”

  Christian gave her a wan smile. “Of course. He really got lucky with you, Chels. And I know he knows that. The two of you are pretty new, so I doubt he’s told you deep things about himself yet. I won’t get into details, but let’s just say until the two of you meshed, he was on the road to becoming a hollow shell of the guy I grew up with. I’m only saying that for a shot of encouragement. Not that you probably need it. I can see you love him.”

  Chelsie smiled with genuine delight. “Christian, you have no idea how much I love this man.”

  He glanced at Asa then nodded. “I’ll go get Tiffany and your folks.”

  Once he left, she leaned across the bed and kissed Asa’s forehead. “I love you. I’m going to step out for just a couple minutes. If you need me…well, I know you’ll have no trouble letting me know.”

  Several minutes after she entered the hallway outside of Asa’s room, her mother, Nathan, and Tiffany joined her. Their expressions were so far-ranging. Her mother looked sick with worry. When didn’t she, when trouble was afoot? Tiffany seemed torn between that same emotion and a seriously pissed-off look—her usual expression during trying times. Nathan wore one of those I’ve-always-got-it-under-control looks, but Chelsie glimpsed concern in his hard, violet gaze too. Knowing Nathan, he probably thought he’d failed in some way to contain this disaster. There would have been no controlling Chad, at least the one of late. She appreciated everyone’s concern, but no one—short of a far-too-lenient Missouri judge—could have prevented this tragedy.

  “How are you holding up?” her mother asked.

  “Don’t worry about me. Be concerned for Asa.”

  Her mother frowned. “Honey, we are. We just want to know what we can do. Is there anything you need?”

  “A miracle or two would be nice. Just pray for one.”

  “Well you should know that’s a given.”

  She did. However, she did need answers to a few questions for peace of mind. She needed to know that Chad would never be a threat to anyone she loved ever again. “Do any of you know what happened with Chad? We left before the police arrived.”

  Tiffany provided the answer. “He’s in the Lafayette County Jail, without bail, awaiting marshals to take him back to Missouri, but he has charges pending here, too, for what he did. Unfortunately, he won’t be charged with Asa’s attempted murder, since obviously we can’t involve the police, but he will be slapped with a litany of other charges for unloading a gun in a public place.”

  Chelsie nodded and brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek. All she cared about was Chad never seeing daylight beyond the walls of a prison again. Hopefully, Chad’s collective crimes would put him behind bars for decades.

  Nathan added, “I have Dominic singularly focused at the moment on encouraging both county’s prosecutors to make sure Chad never makes bail and will face the maximum sentences possible for all his other crimes.”

  Although Nathan didn’t expound on the comment, Chelsie knew he meant that, if necessary, Dominic would enchant the prosecutors so they’d throw the book at Chad and refuse any sort of plea bargain from defense council.

  “Thank you, Nathan.” That news was a small relief, but it did nothing to quell her fears for Asa—her guilt either. Her scheme to have Chad arrested had backfired, worse than she could have ever imagined, and Asa now paid the price for her fifteen minutes of sweet revenge. She squeezed her eyes shut, because the pain attached to that guilt was scalding.

  “Chelsie, look at me.” Tiffany stepped forward and took her hand, her expression uncharacteristically tender. “I know you’re in worm-eating mode at the moment, but what Chad did to Asa ain’t your fault. He was in Looney Tune Land and well on his way to doing something violent to any one of us. Particularly you.”

  Chelsie recognized her sister’s effort to comfort her, but it backfired, popping the tenuous cork bottling her rioting emotions. She yanked her hand away and blurted out, “Then it should have been me, not Asa, who took that bullet! He did nothing to deserve this, except be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m sure all of you know by now I’m dying. Apparently, that’s God’s will for me. I’m thirty-three years old with a rare tumor that’s eating my brain like a swarm of locusts. So what’s a couple of months more or less? It should have been me,” she muttered as she closed her eyes and squeezed out tears. “It should have been me.”

  “Stop that, Chelsie,” her mother chided as she pulled her in for a hug.

  Chelsie went without protest because she was so overwrought.

  Tiffany said, “You can’t go there, Chels. That’s wrong thinking, and you know it. What would Asa think if he heard you talking like that? I can tell you what Christian would do if I hosted that kind of pity party. He’d kick my ass bet
ween my shoulder blades. Proverbially speaking.”

  That got a weak laugh out of her because Chelsie knew it to be true, not just about Christian, but Asa wouldn’t want her wallowing in self-pity either.

  “Tiffany’s right,” her mother said. “You aren’t thinking properly, and no wonder, but no one can control the actions of another person. All of us are grieving for Asa yet believing in his swift recovery. You more so, I’m sure. Forget about Chad, and concentrate on Asa. He needs every positive thought and emotion possible flowing his way.”

  Chelsie swallowed hard, knowing her mother was right. “Look, I need to get back to Asa. If any bad news crops up about Chad, let me know. In fact, I want to know everything you learn about his case, Nathan.”

  “Will do, honey,” Nathan said.

  Tiffany gave her an awkward pat on the arm. “Mom told me and the family everything about your brain tumor, Chels. If you still need my blood, I’m down one hundred percent as your donor.”

  “Me too,” her mother said.

  “Thank you both, but right now Asa’s health has to come first. Once he wakes up and he’s on the road to recovery, I’ll discuss options with all of you. I just can’t think about me right now. You understand?”

  “Of course. Just take care of yourself while you take care of Asa,” her mother said then forced a smile.

  Nathan and Tiffany offered similar ones. Naturally, they were concerned about her current state of health, but she couldn’t deal with that right now. She turned and slid back the door to Asa’s room. At least she didn’t have a screaming headache for once. Something to be grateful for, she supposed.

  Christian glanced up from his task, changing out Asa’s saline drip and gave her a tired look. “How’d it go?”

  She hunched a shoulder then went back to her chair. “They’re trying to be supportive, and of course they’re all worried sick, but there’s nothing they can do here, Christian. Send them home.”

  He nodded. “I’ll try with your mom and Nathan, but Tiffany won’t leave, because I can’t. I’ll leave you with him for now. I have to check on a couple of his patients and mine, then I’m going to head to the doctor’s suite. I’ll be checking on him often through the night, but call if you need me.”