by Hazel Hunter
Hugh
Her Warlock Protector
Hazel Hunter
Description
General Fitzhugh Colmain isn’t your normal field operative. In fact, he’s not a field guy at all. Instead, he’s a member of the Magus Corps’ medical branch, a surgeon who can manipulate chi. But the rumor of a witch with a rare talent has lured him from the healing covens.
Phoenix Brielle and her giant poodle, Anubis, have been working at the hospital for nearly a year. As an animal therapist, she takes him to visit patients, spreading her canine friend’s love. But the hospital also gives her a unique opportunity. About the time she discovered Anubis, she started to revive the dead.
But as healer and necromancer get to know one another, jealous eyes watch from the periphery. The hospital’s chaplain would do anything for Phoenix—absolutely anything.
Chapter 1
The rain was absolutely bucketing. Nix had never seen anything like it. Even in the darkness, it streamed in sheets past the lights in the parking lot. Although she would have her hoodie up, she was going to get soaked. The walk from the emergency room exit to the bus stop was four blocks. Correction. Four long blocks. Over the intercom, a rendition of White Christmas was quietly playing.
“It ought to be Wet Christmas,” she said to Noobie.
He only panted and licked his chops. She ruffled the soft, curly fur behind his ears.
“I know,” she said softly. “Me too.”
They were both hungry after a long day, but eating would have to wait until they were home. When she looked up, the reflection of the sliding glass doors held someone new.
“I thought it wasn’t supposed to rain here,” said the resonant bass voice. Her hand flew to her chest as she jumped a little. “Sorry,” he said, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No!” she gasped. “It’s good. I’m good.”
Thank goodness she’d been surprised. At least it was a way to hide her reaction. Dr. Colmain looked down at her, and she was transfixed. His smokey, hazel eyes looked a little worried. But his full lips held a small smile. He towered above her, his wide shoulders filling the light blue scrubs. His smoothly muscled arms flexed as he moved. It was a wonderful show. She was staring. She cleared her throat.
“You’re fine,” she said. “No! I mean, I’m fine.”
He smiled that radiant smile, and took the hand from her shoulder. Heat rose to her cheeks.
What an idiot!
Dr. Fitzhugh Colmain was only the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. Without turning, she knew that nurses at the station behind them would be looking. All the women looked, and some of the men. He’d arrived at Cedars-Sinai hospital a month ago and hearts had fluttered ever since. Though he was a plastic surgeon, he could have been a model.
Correction. An underwear model.
“Not that I don’t like the rain,” he said, thankfully returning his gaze to the downpour. “Because I do. Especially during the holidays.” He paused. “How about you, Phoenix?”
He knows my name?
“Um, yeah.” She glanced at the continuing deluge. “I mean, no!”
She could have kicked herself.
“I know what you mean,” he said.
Well that makes one of us.
He crouched down and ruffled Noobie’s neck. “I didn’t think you and Anubis worked the ER.”
“We don’t,” she nearly yelled. For pity’s sake, stop shouting. He’s going to think you’re deaf. “We don’t,” she said more evenly. “We’re generally in the shared and private rooms upstairs.”
Anubis was a therapy dog. That was the short version. In reality, the black standard poodle was her coworker, her wing man, and her best friend. It wasn’t clear who had rescued who.
“Where did you find him?” Dr. Colmain asked, still petting him.
Phoenix crouched in front of the big, seated dog, their heads level. She scratched him under the chin.
“First and Alameda,” she said. “Outside the station.”
Dr. Colmain combed his fingers down Noobie’s back, even under the red dog vest. Noobie closed his eyes and looked like he wanted to melt.
“The station?”
“Oh right,” she said, remembering that he was just visiting. “Union Station. The train station.”
“Ah,” was all he said, content to just keep scratching Noobie.
It was the effect the black poodle had on everyone. Nix smiled. It hadn’t occurred to her to train him as a therapy dog. But one of her neighbors had suggested it, and it’d seemed like the perfect fit.
Like really perfect.
Noobie’s eyes popped open, and he whined a little.
“Head’s up, Dr. Colmain,” she said, standing, gathering up Noobie’s leash.
He stood as well. “Head’s up?”
She nodded at the sliding doors. Though it took a few seconds, they finally heard the ambulance siren. The doctor cocked his head down at the dog.
“Nice hearing,” he whispered, but Noobie was focused on the ER entry. “And you can call me Hugh.”
It took Nix a moment, but Dr. Colmain was extending his hand to her.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, fumbling with the leash. “Oh, I’m um…” She took his hand. His fingers were incredibly warm and soft. “I’m um…”
“Phoenix,” he said, smiling.
She was staring again. She blinked and shook his hand. “They call me Nix.”
That made him frown a little. “Would you mind if I called you Phoenix? It’s so much prettier.”
Now it was her that wanted to melt.
“Gangway!” said a nurse behind them.
As they separated, they went to opposite sides of the corridor. Flashing red lights washed the scene like a strobing dream. Two nurses and the ER doctor ran past them, shouting something about a stomach pump.
Stomach pump? Nix tore her eyes from Dr. Colmain. The ambulance had just pulled up under the overhang. The back doors burst open, and two paramedics jumped out, practically pulling the gurney with them. The legs snapped down and into place. A nurse helped a woman down from the back of the vehicle, as the troupe of paramedics, doctor, and nurse, raced back into the entry alongside the gurney. The doctor had his stethoscope on the boy’s chest.
Nix’s hands flew to her chest as if a pang of horror lanced through it.
It was just a little boy.
The paramedics were rattling off the vitals.
“Is the poison center on the horn?” the nurse said.
In seconds, they’d all flown by. Nix had been about to follow, when the nurse and woman from the ambulance passed her.
“I tried to find everything,” the woman said.
She was carrying a plastic grocery bag that looked like it had cans of hairspray. But as it spun, Nix could see a red can with ant and roach symbols on it.
“Is he going to be okay?” the woman asked.
She had to be his mother.
Without thinking, Nix drifted after them.
Chapter 2
Hugh watched in fascination as Phoenix and her familiar trailed along unnoticed. That is what Anubis was. Hugh was sure of it, even if he had no proof. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He’d been here a month, and still nothing. But sooner or later, he was sure it would happen. He hadn’t become a general in the Magus Corps for guessing. Centuries of experience and a bit of intuition had never led him astray. Phoenix Brielle was a witch, whether she knew it or not. Of course, the knowing part, that was the question.
“Dr. Colmain,” said someone coming up beside him. “You’re here late.”
“Diana,” he said pleasantly, glancing at her before h
e returned his attention to Phoenix. “I could say the same.”
He hadn’t failed to notice how she always managed to be on rotation when he was scheduled for surgery. She followed his gaze down the hall. Noobie was seated next to Phoenix, who was staring through the window of the swinging door.
“Well,” she said, standing a bit too close, “the paperwork just never seems to end.”
“How long have Phoenix and Anubis been working here?” he asked.
Diana was a statuesque blond, though still not his height. She looked up at him as if he’d asked her weight.
“Who?” she said.
He nodded down the hallway. “Nix and Noobie. How long have they been working here?”
“Oh them?” she sounded surprised. “The goth girl and her dog? I don’t know. Maybe a year? Maybe more? I’ve never really noticed.”
Hugh nodded. No doubt that’s how Phoenix wanted it, especially if she was a rogue. A witch who operated outside the coven system was a threat to Wiccans everywhere. She’d bring unwanted attention, maybe the dangerous kind. But from the start, Hugh had been impressed with her ability to blend. She was twenty-one but did her best to look younger, not to mention scruffy. But even the loose-fitting, black jeans and hoodie didn’t really hide her figure. In unguarded moments, her delicate features managed to peek from behind the stringy, jet-black hair. When they did, her expression was often troubled, her green eyes pained––the way they’d been when she’d watched the gurney go by.
“So I was wondering,” Diana said, pitching her voice low, “if you’re not busy, maybe you’d like to get a bite to eat.” He turned his attention to her, and her eyes lit up. “Or I’ll bet you haven’t had a home-cooked meal in forever.”
“Can I have a raincheck?” he said smoothly. Diana’s expression fell. “Because you’re right, and that sounds fabulous.” She perked up a little. “But I’ve still got rounds to do.” He gave her a wink. “And paperwork. You know.”
She smiled dreamily. “Don’t I,” she agreed, then sighed. “Another time then.”
Holiday music played lowly in the background, a classical piece. Though sequined “Happy Holiday” signs and garlands of tinsel adorned all the lobbies and stations, the staff was careful to avoid anything specific to a particular religion. Hugh would have preferred something for winter solstice or maybe even yuletide, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“Another time,” he said, pushing away from the wall. “Definitely.”
Though she turned and headed for the exit, she checked over her shoulder to make sure he was still watching. He gave her a little wave. She waved back and was gone.
After all the centuries, if there was one thing Fitzhugh Colmain had learned to do, it was parlay with women. Even before he’d been awakened to witchcraft with his first sexual experience, he’d been aware of his effect on the fairer sex. Had he not been under the watchful eye of his father’s knights, he’d have been awakened well before his late twenties. Like Phoenix, he worked hard to look a different age. He returned his attention to her.
He’d nearly had to laugh at her reaction to him knowing her name. He grinned a little at the thought. In a way, it was refreshing. She wore everything on that black sleeve of hers. Still at the window of the swinging door, she was watching the goings-on inside intently. But her familiar, Noobie, was watching him and wagging his tail. He grinned at the friendly creature.
The door of ER Room One opened, and a nurse strode out. Centuries working in and around healing institutes, health resorts, and hospitals told him what she knew. The boy had died. Even before she’d put a hand to her mouth and broken into a quick trot, he’d known. The empty eyes were always the sign.
A woman’s shriek came from inside. Though muffled, Hugh winced. The terrible and un-tellable grief it carried was like a spear. Phoenix staggered back, with Noobie at her side. As she stumbled into the shadows of a branching hall, Hugh took the opportunity to duck into a tiny waiting area. The procession began. First the doctor. Then the paramedics. Finally, some time later, the nurse. They had left the poor woman to be with her son. He took a deep breath, and blew it out. As many times as he’d been through this, it never got easier.
Phoenix leaned back against the wall, and slowly slid down it. As Noobie sat next to her, she hugged him fiercely, and her shoulders shook. She was crying.
He crouched down where he stood.
“Phoenix,” he whispered, barely audible. He knew exactly how she felt.
Though she eventually stopped crying, she didn’t move. She simply sat and waited. So did he. Eventually, the social worker arrived. Hugh knew without seeing her face she’d be a helpful woman, sympathetic, and caring. She’d try to call a relative. She’d give the bereaved her phone number. She’d recommend a morgue.
After several minutes, the social worker led the woman out, an arm around her shoulders, clipboard in her other hand. They headed to the nurses station. Phoenix got up. With a quick glance in every direction, she hurried through the swinging doors, followed by Noobie.
Chapter 3
The room was quiet, as Nix had known it would be. None of the machines had been left on, if there’d even been time to hook them up. It was even possible that the little boy had been DOA. In that case, the emergency room would have been a formality more than anything else. A doctor had to pronounce him dead.
Nix quickly glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one had followed her. She’d have to be quick. Not just because orderlies would arrive soon, but also because if the boy actually had been dead on arrival, she didn’t have much time. She’d learned the hard way that not everyone could be saved. The longer they’d been unresponsive, the harder it was.
“Oh,” she murmured, as she came to the side of the gurney.
He looked like a sleeping cherub, plump cheeks, though they weren’t rosy. The white sheet had been pulled up to his chest. Where she stood, it was crumpled and looked damp. It was probably where his mother had been crying. The thought made tears well up in her eyes again, but she wiped them away. There wasn’t time for that. She looked down at Noobie.
“You got my back?” she asked.
In answer, he sat so close, he was nearly on her foot. His soft side leaned into her calf.
“All right,” she said. “Here we go.”
From the moment she’d found Noobie, he’d been her wing man. Sometimes a revival was easy. It hardly drained her at all. Small animals around her building, especially if they’d been unresponsive for a short time, were easy. She barely had to rest afterwards. But people were a different matter. Noobie would watch for the signs in her. Though she’d never trained him, it was uncanny. He’d bark to get her to stop.
She laid her hand on the little boy’s chest. The glow began immediately, bright orange. As she concentrated, it flared.
Not too quick, she reminded herself. But it was hard not to go too quick. Time mattered.
Noobie whined a little at her side.
“I know,” she muttered.
But the flow had begun. Warm, rich, and silky beneath her hand, the energy flowed. The fireflies began. That’s what she called them, though she knew they weren’t. Small points of brilliant white light slowly swirled in the air between them. That was a good sign. They were connecting. She kept her hand in place. The glow flared again. But rather than try to slow it this time, she let it go. That was the easy part, the part that had always come so effortlessly. Her fingers were outlined in the beautiful orange glare. The fireflies danced a little faster. Now she could feel the drain.
“Come on,” she muttered.
She gazed down at the little boy’s face. His eyelashes were so long. For a moment, she wondered what color his eyes were.
I’ll see soon enough. He’ll open his eyes, and I’ll see.
She could feel sweat at her temples. Noobie whined.
But as she watched the little, angelic face and stared at his chest, his eyes didn’t open, and he didn’t draw a breath. She do
ubled the flow. He was far too young. There was no way she could let this be. His face was bathed in the orange glow, as were the sheets and everything nearby. Their connection was still growing brighter.
Come on, she thought, unable to spare the energy for words. Come on.
Noobie growled beside her, standing.
I know, but just a little bit more. He just needs a little bit more.
The fireflies were spinning, moving faster, like a tiny dust devil in between them. Her hand was getting warm. Sweat was trickling down the side of her face. Though she was breathing fast, her lungs began to burn.
Noobie barked.
But the boy hadn’t woken yet. She couldn’t let that be. He had to wake up. He had to!
* * *
• • • • •
* * *
Though Hugh watched from where Phoenix couldn’t see him, he knew something was wrong. Whether it was the way that Noobie barked, or the way Phoenix’s tense body never moved, something was wrong. He strode through the swinging doors, squinting as he approached. Though he couldn’t see past Phoenix, there was a glaring light in front of her, like the overhead lights of an operating room. But the ER didn’t have those. He’d just been about to look beyond her when Noobie barked again, loudly. As though she’d been startled, Phoenix jumped and lurched back. The bright light winked out. If Hugh hadn’t stopped when he did, he’d have run into her.
“Phoenix?” he said.
Though she spun to him, he hardly saw her. Instead, he stared at the beaming boy behind her. He was sitting up, laughing, and clapping his hands as though he were trying to catch flies.
“Hugh?” Phoenix breathed. Her eyes rolled up in her head, and she fell.
Hugh lunged forward and caught her. She went completely limp in his arms. He quickly put a finger to her jugular. Though her heart rate was high, the beat was strong. Likewise, she was breathing shallowly through parted lips. As he knelt, cradling her limp form, he saw that her face was ashen. Noobie butted his head in and licked her face.
