by Kris Tualla
He touched his face next, feeling the tube that looped under his nose.
“Oxygen. You lost a lot of blood.” Sally explained it like he should understand the connection.
Sveyn nodded weakly and tried to release the tension in his body. He recalled what he knew about hospitals in this century. He had spent the night with Hollis in her hospital room after her abduction, and followed her through all the medical interviews and examinations.
What he saw since arriving here in the ambulance—the same word as during the German war, though the two vehicles looked nothing alike—was similar enough to Hollis’s experience that he felt like he wasn’t in an entirely different world.
Except he had not been interviewed yet.
And when he was, he needed help. Quite a lot of it.
“Hollis McKenna?” he croaked.
Sally leaned over him. “What was that?”
“Hollis McKenna.”
Sally frowned. “Is Hollis McKenna your next of kin?”
Sveyn opted for the easy answer. “Yes. She is here?”
“Are you asking if Hollis McKenna is in this hospital?”
“Yes.”
“Was she injured as well?”
“Yes.”
Sally squeezed his hand—the one that did not have a tube trailing from it. “Let me see what I can find out.”
Sveyn closed his eyes, exhausted. He realized that though he still felt his heart beating, he no longer had to think about breathing. That was a relief. And with whatever magic the surgeon worked, his wound wasn’t paining him at the moment.
If only his skin would adjust to the constant pressure of the blankets. His leathers and linen shirt had been destroyed, cut away from his body when he reached the hospital. Being naked provided him some brief relief, until he was covered in a cotton tunic and sheets.
His hand ached where the needle entered it.
The machine compressed his legs again, bringing tears to his eyes. Twenty four hours of this was going to test his mettle more than most of his Viking hardships.
“Sveyn Hansen?”
He opened his eyes. “Yes.”
“I’m Doctor Randall and I performed your surgery.”
Sveyn could only think to say, “Thank you.”
“You were a lucky man. The blade went through your liver, which is why you bled so much, and exited through your latissimus dorsa, your back muscle.”
Sveyn blinked, trying to commit those words to memory so he could ask about them later.
“We had to remove your gallbladder,” Dr. Randall continued. “Before you leave the hospital we’ll explain how that impacts your diet. Do you have any questions?”
Sveyn wanted to laugh.
More than you can answer, I am afraid.
He just shook his head.
Dr. Randall frowned. “I’ve asked Doctor James Lance, our head hematologist, to speak to you tomorrow. Your bloodwork showed some anomalies that he’ll want to discuss with you.”
Sveyn nodded. He understood enough of that sentence to realize that his eleventh-century blood was somehow different from twenty-first century blood.
Why was obvious. In what way was the question.
“Good. I anticipate a full recovery with no other issues.”
“Thank you.”
Randall’s brow flickered oddly, then he turned and left Sveyn’s privacy-tented bedside.
Nurse Sally came in as soon as the surgeon left. “I found your Hollis McKenna. She’s in room three-oh-five. I can’t tell you more than that, except it’s a regular floor.”
Sveyn heaved a relieved sigh. With real air.
“When you are moved onto the surgical recovery floor, would you like me to let her know what room you’re in?”
Sveyn nodded, concentrating on not crying out as the damned machine squeezed his legs. Again.
*****
Nurse Marla came into Hollis’s room about an hour after Stevie left. “I have good news. Your Mr. Hansen has just been moved to a room on the surgical recovery floor.”
Hollis would have whooped her joy if she wasn’t in so much pain. Her head pounded and it hurt to breathe.
Marla noticed and approached her bedside. “Pain level?”
“Eight,” Hollis admitted. She hated to be a wuss, but…
“I’ll refresh your ice pack and I can give you acetaminophen,” the nurse offered. “But no more anti-inflammatory meds for another hour and a half.”
“I’ll take it.”
When Nurse Marla returned with the ice, a cup of water, and the little white caplets, Hollis asked, “Can I see him?”
She waited for Hollis to down the drugs before answering. “Let me check with the doctor about temporarily disconnecting your heart monitor. If he says yes, I’ll get an orderly to wheel you to his room for ten minutes. But that’s it.”
Hollis forced a smile. “Thank you.”
Fifteen minutes seemed to take fifty, but the mild pain medication and ice were starting to help. Hollis pinched her cheeks for color and agonizingly pushed herself up straighter in her bed. When Nurse Marla returned, Hollis’s smile was more genuine.
“Okay,” Marla began. “Doctor says that since your heart rate is steady and has been since you were admitted, I can disconnect you for a short time.”
“Ten minutes is all I ask,” Hollis said. “And it means the world to me.”
Marla nodded. “All right. I’ll call the orderly.”
*****
Sveyn lay in his hospital bed with cool oxygen flowing into his nose, clear liquid flowing into his veins, and counting the seconds in his head until his legs would be released from this round of compression hell. He was finally alone for the first time since Hollis brought him back into his body.
Until Hollis nearly died and joined him in his undefined not-dead, not-alive, caught-in-between state, Sveyn never considered that the answer to his situation was not to die at last, but to live again.
He never considered that was even possible, but when she appeared beside him all that had gone before made sudden sense: why he manifested to a woman for the first time, why he was beginning to smell and taste, to be heard and glimpsed.
It was his destiny to fall in love with her, and her destiny to save him. The only glitch in this situation was that Sveyn had not revealed everything about his manifestations to Hollis.
After this was finished, he would need to. He owed her that.
When we are both recovered.
Someone knocked on his opened door.
“Sveyn?”
Hollis?
He turned his head—the only part of him that he could currently move—and watched the love of his life be pushed into his room in a wheelchair.
“Hollis…” he breathed. “Thank God you are here.”
Hollis turned to the man pushing her chair. “Will you give us privacy?”
He nodded. “I’ll be back in ten.”
“Thanks.”
Hollis faced Sveyn again. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
He managed a crooked smile. “Not from the surgery. There is some magic there.”
“Sveyn, can you understand me?”
“Yes.” His smile faded. “Why do you ask me?”
“Raise your right hand.”
Sveyn complied with the odd request. “Why?”
Hollis tried to move her chair forward but winced and abandoned the attempt.
“What is wrong, Hollis?”
She looked like she might cry. “My chest hurts too much to roll the chair closer.”
“No, why did you ask me to raise my right hand?”
Hollis glanced toward the door, then pinned Sveyn with a concerned gaze. “Do you know that you’re not speaking English?”
Sveyn recoiled inwardly; outwardly he was immobilized by tubes and contraptions. “What?”
“You aren’t speaking English.”
“I thought I was.”
“You are speaking a language I nev
er heard. Maybe it’s your old Norse?”
Sveyn frowned. His heart beat harder in his chest. “Is this English?”
“Concentrate. Like when you moved through things.”
Hollis stared at Sveyn, clearly hoping her suggestion would work.
What if he couldn’t speak English anymore?
But I understand everyone around me.
So if he concentrated, he should be able to respond in that language.
“Is this English?” he asked slowly.
Her shoulders sagged in relief. “Yes.”
“I must think hard,” he managed. “This will not be easy.”
“Not at first,” she agreed. “But at least we know you can do it.”
Yes. I can. And I will.
“I love you, Hollis.”
Hollis’s sudden smile was all the medication he needed. “And I love you, Viking. Welcome back to earth.”
Sunday
January 10
When Hollis was awakened at six o’clock the next morning she didn’t even try to go back to sleep. Nurse Marla had handed her off to Nurse Beth last night, and the cheerful Filipina made her hourly appearances as required.
Her chest actually hurt more this morning than it had yesterday.
“Your pectoral muscles are stiff from the shock and contraction of the defibrillator,” Nurse Beth explained. “And the crack in your sternum is now a bone bruise.”
“What can help?” Hollis asked.
“Anti-inflammatories. And I can give you another ice pack. Twenty-four hours after the injury, you can start using heat.”
That would have to be enough for now. “Do you know how long I’ll be in here?”
Nurse Beth gave her an apologetic moue. “I don’t. You’ll have to ask the doctor when he makes his rounds.”
“When will that be?”
“Hard to say. Sorry.” Beth turned to the white board and noted the ice pack request. “Marla will be your nurse again today. Maybe she can find out when he’ll be on this floor.”
“Thank you.” Hollis slumped down in her bed and tried to find a comfortable position.
She didn’t have time to talk to Sveyn about the gypsy ruse last night before she was banished from his room and wheeled back to her own. But he came out of surgery speaking not-English, so obviously he hadn’t answered any hospital questions yet.
I’ll need to be his emergency contact.
How could she accomplish that?
“He has to designate you,” Marla answered when Hollis asked. “Will he do that?”
Hollis frowned a little. “I think so. I’m the only person who knows him.”
Marla looked at her strangely. “How is that possible?”
Crapazoids.
Now was the time to begin laying the groundwork and see if the planned ruse had legs. “He’s a refugee. From the gypsy culture.”
“Really?” The nurse’s expression didn’t change. “Is that a thing?”
“Yes.” Let’s go with that. “He came to my museum looking for a job, but he doesn’t have any documentation.”
Marla’s expression eased. “Right. They live completely off the grid.”
This was good. “So I was going to help him get, I don’t know, real.”
“I see.” The nurse shrugged. “Well, good luck with that. I have no idea where you’ll begin.”
Hollis smiled politely.
Neither do I.
Chapter Three
In the middle of the morning, when Hollis was at the height of her impatience to see the doctor and get back to Sveyn’s side, Matt showed up at her door.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“You drove all the way out here for that?”
Matt’s cheeks pinkened. “I actually stayed in a hotel down the road.”
Damn. The man could be a very good boyfriend when he tried, but that was the problem. He was a complete and utter failure in the commit-and-stay-married arena.
“Why, Matt?” Hollis pressed, allowing her impatience to spill onto him. “You and I are finished. Forever this time, in case I wasn’t clear enough before.”
She could practically see the cogs turning in his manipulative little mind. “I wasn’t at my best, yesterday. I admit it. I’m hoping you’ll cut me some slack, considering.”
Hollis stared at him. “Considering, what?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Considering your breakdown.”
Hollis’s eyes narrowed. “What breakdown, exactly?”
Matt stepped closer to her bed and lowered his voice. “You were acting totally crazy, Hollis. You were waving your arms, and shouting, and crying, and running back and forth like—I don’t even know what.”
Hollis sighed. She had already told Matt about Sveyn; now was the moment of truth. “That’s because Sveyn was blocking my way and arguing with me.”
Matt straightened, the former pink in his cheeks draining away. “What? He really was there?”
“Yes.” Hollis tried to fold her arms over her chest but was stopped by the pain and the heart monitor leads. She laid her hands in her lap instead. “I was giving him his I told you so opportunity.”
“What does that mean?”
Hollis sighed another necessarily shallow sigh. “It means that Sveyn told me several times that men don’t change. He said you aren’t any different now than you were two years ago, and that you would break my heart again.”
Matt sank into the only chair in the room. “I broke your heart?”
If Hollis could get out of her bed, she’d punch him again, and much harder this time. “You are such an idiot, Matt!”
His mouth gaped soundlessly.
Hollis stabbed a finger in his direction. “The only reason I even considered letting you try to win me back, as you so deceptively put it, was because I thought you wanted to marry me!”
Matt’s brow plunged. “In time—”
“You had ten years, asshole.” Hollis snorted. “You’re dead to me now. I’m moving on.”
“Moving on to what?” he taunted. “Some ghost? Yeah, that’s a great life decision.”
A slow smile spread over Hollis’s face. Oh, this was a sweet, sweet moment. One she never anticipated, but was welcomed nonetheless.
Savor it.
She relaxed against her raised mattress. “Did you see the man who was stabbed yesterday?”
His lips twisted. “Of course.”
“The one dressed all in leather with fur boots?” She paused as Matt’s mouth fell open again.
I should tell him that’s not a good look for him.
“The very tall man dressed like a Viking? Run through the gut by a broadsword?”
“So when you said Sveyn…” Matt’s chest heaved. “Hollis, be serious. That’s not possible.”
“Except that, obviously, it is.”
“So that’s why you’re breaking up with me?”
Hollis glared at Matt, incredulous. “I know I have a concussion, and bits of yesterday are still fuzzy, but I remember that I hit you and told you to go away before that man appeared.”
Matt folded his arms.
Sure he could; he wasn’t hit with a hammer.
“Did you, Hollis?”
Hollis spread her arms as far as she could without causing herself searing pain. “Did you see him on that field with me? When I was having that breakdown that you said I was having?”
Matt was obviously trying to lie. “I don’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Hollis dropped her arms on her blankets and sneered at him. “Just get out.”
“Okay!” He threw his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t see him until after the paramedics zapped you. But that’s because I was concentrating on you.”
“And so were they. Until he appeared out of nowhere.” Hollis definitely guessed on that part, but it seemed logical.
Matt was quiet. Admitting he was wrong was always hard for
him and he usually beat her down with objections before backing off.
“Yeah.” The word was hardly more than a soft grunt.
Hollis had to poke him. “What?”
“Yes,” he hissed. “He did appear out of nowhere.”
Hollis decided not to give Matt any details about how the Viking was able to do that. He didn’t deserve them.
“And now Sveyn’s here, Matt. Upstairs. On the surgical recovery floor.”
Matt wagged his head. “I can’t believe it.”
“Go visit him.”
“Not that—well, yes that. Obviously that.” Matt ran a hand over his perfectly trimmed hair. “But I mean you choosing some weird dude, that wasn’t even real, over me.”
“You made that choice for me, Matt, when you refused to make a commitment. When are you going to get that through your Neanderthal skull?”
He made a disgusted face. “Oh, come on.”
“Sveyn was real, only now he’s really real.”
Yes, that sounded like a five-year-old. Tough. “And he’s the man I love.”
“Love?” Matt chuckled. “Good luck with that.”
“Thank you.” Hollis flashed a super-sweet smile. “That’s very nice of you.”
“I didn’t—”
“I know.
Matt sat back in the chair and stared at her. “What now?”
“Now you go back to your wife and beg her forgiveness.”
Matt’s gaze fell to the floor. “What if I don’t want to?”
“Then move to Tibet and become a monk,” Hollis huffed.
His gaze jumped back to hers. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Matt was the one looking heartbroken now. “So we’re really finished?”
Hollis was amazed how easily the next words flowed from her mouth. “We were finished once before, and now, as I said, we are finished forever.”
“Hollis—”
“Matt,” she said as gently as her anger would let her. “You failed the test. Go home.”
A quick knock on the door preceded the appearance of a man with a stethoscope looped around his neck and a metal flip chart in his hand.
“Hollis McKenna? I’m Doctor Sajid Khan.” He looked up, clearly surprised to see Matt. “Oh. Hello.”
“He’s leaving, Dr. Khan.” Hollis gave Matt an impatient look. “Aren’t you.”
