Fang Hospital

by Tanya Goodwin

  They walked hand-in-hand to the restaurant. She counted his pulse with every pace.

  “Your hand is ice,” Max said.

  He rubbed it. How cute, she thought. Max had no idea his chivalry to warm her was useless.

  “My hands are forever cold. It runs in my family.”

  Max kissed her hand. She almost bit him, right then.

  “You know what they say, ‘Cold hands, warm heart’.”

  There wasn’t a warm spot on her undead body, but she’d keep that to herself, for now. She was genuinely attracted to Max, not only for prey. Could she trust him with her secret? Possibly. But not tonight.

  The hostess sat them at a table with a view of the harbor. The waitress, behind her, handed them menus. Gabriella returned her menu and waved her hand.

  “No need. I’ll have your famous, ‘best in Boston’, clam chowder.”

  The waitress zoomed her eyes onto Gabriella’s fingernails. They had mushroomed to talon length. Gabriella shot her nails into her palms. She pushed back her chair and tucked her clutch to her side.

  “I’ll be right back, Max. I need to go to the ladies room. Go ahead and order some wine.”

  Panicked, Gabriella forced herself into slow motion. It felt as if she was moving in reverse. But warp speed to the bathroom might freak Max out and ruin her plans for the evening. Once safely inside the ladies room, she yanked the nail clipper from her clutch. Snap after snap, the tips darted into the trash receptacle. And just in time. Seconds later, a woman entered. She fluffed her hair while gazing into the mirror, and applied a coat of shell pink lipstick. The woman hadn’t noticed that Gabriella, who was standing behind her, cast no reflection. She looks so innocent, Gabriella mused. She was starved, having missed her snack before Max arrived. Hmm? Maybe it wasn’t so wrong. She’d hypnotize the young woman, lead her into a stall, and then after a quick jab to the neck, she’d be done with her. The woman would know no different. She’d simply have two puncture wounds that she’d notice tomorrow morning. Luckily her victim was wearing a scarf. Gabriella nodded. It was a sign. She tapped the woman on the shoulder. The minute the woman turned around, her eyes locked with Gabriella’s.

  “Good,” Gabriella said, softly. “Come with me.”

  The woman followed her into a stall. Gabriella shut the door and bolted it. Her young quarry tilted her head back and sacrificed her neck. Gabriella bit into it. Her eyes rolled back as she sucked. She let the woman lose and adjusted her scarf to cover her indiscretion and then unlocked the stall.

  “Go now. Enjoy your evening.”

  The woman quivered out from Gabriella’s trance and left the ladies room, her hair coiffed, and her lipstick perfect.

  ****

  Max tapped his finger on the table. He’d ordered them each a glass of Riesling. The waitress hadn’t lost any of her wide-eyed look. After Gabriella excused herself, their waitress stood dumbstruck while clutching their menus. Max had to clear his throat to snag her back to attention.

  “Miss? Are you all right?” he asked.

  The waitress shook her head repeatedly. “No,” she muttered.

  She dropped the menus, which tipped over the votive candle on the table. The tablecloth shot up in flames. Max pushed back his chair, jumped up, and doused his napkin with water from a glass on the next table. He tossed it onto the fire, snuffing out the flames. “It’s okay, everyone,” he said.

  The manager, his face beet red, stomped towards the waitress and yelled, “You’re fired! Get out!

  She ran off in a fluster, smacking into corners of tables. Water glasses teetered and silverware clattered to the floor. Before bolting out the restaurant door, she collided with a waiter who was balancing someone’s dinner on a tray over his shoulder. The entrees flew airborne and crashed onto an unintended table.

  Patrons buzzed about the wacky waitress. They turned their heads, shrugged their shoulders, and raised their palms in bewilderment.

  “Unbelievable!”

  “What a nut job!”

  “So much for a reference,” one joked.

  The manager shouted after her, “This is coming out of your pay and then some. I know where you live. I’ll call the cops on you!”

  But she was long gone.

  The hostess and manager rushed apologetic in the aftermath. Wait staff and busboys filtered through the restaurant. Floors were swept, clean tablecloths were pressed into place, and meals were replaced.

  The hostess stopped in front of Max. “I’m so sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s her fourth job this month. Your meals and drinks are complimentary this evening, and a new waitress will bring them to your table momentarily.”

  “Thank you. Don’t worry about it. My date and I are emergency room physicians at Harry S. Fang Memorial. We’ve seen our share of strange circumstances.”

  “This is a new one for us.” The hostess nodded and smiled. “Please enjoy your meals, and I hope you both have a nice evening.”

  A nice evening is what he had planned, excluding the unanticipated flash fire. He’d been trying to ask Gabriella out for weeks. Fang Hospital E.R. was always cranking. He had no private time to approach her during their shifts. When he did manage to brush against her, juxtaposed jolts of hot and cold shot through him. It was an arousal like he had never felt before. He had to hide more than once in the supply room until his response waned. But after their duties were finished, Gabriella vanished every time before he found a minute to talk to her. He finally took a chance in calling her and lucked out. He was with the most gorgeous, albeit mysterious, woman not only at ‘The Fang,’ but also in all of Dedham. She had the most exquisite green eyes, a green he couldn’t describe. They were absolutely magnetic. Gabriella had that much of a hold on him; a hold that he’d never want to be freed from.

  The restaurant was back to normal, and Max crossed his legs while waiting for Gabriella’s return. Just the thought of her did him in.

  ****

  Gabriella adjusted the “Catherine the Great,” hairpin that had become dislodged while she was puncturing her prey. She waited for what she thought was a reasonable mortal time span for a ladies’ room visit and coolly exited the lavatory.

  Max tossed his napkin onto the table and stood.

  He’s so cute, she thought. So obedient.

  “What happened to our other table?”

  He spun out her chair for her with the finesse of a matador.

  “You missed all the excitement,” he said.

  “Really? How so?”

  What had she missed during her impromptu appetizer?

  “After you went to the restroom, our waitress had a melt down. She set our table on fire and then bolted out the door. The staff had to quickly clean up the place since she knocked everything over during her wild escape.

  “Wow! Sorry I missed the fanfare. She was a bit odd.” Especially when she saw my claws. She must have known who I am. Lucky she’s gone. She could have ruined my evening with Max. Then I’d have to kill her.

  “The good news is that our dinner and drinks are on the house. Ah, and here comes our new waitress with our clam chowder.”

  Gabriella placed her hand over her heart. The briny scent of clams brought back memories of her and her Uncle Claude wading in the blue warmth of the Mediterranean Sea. She ached to taste clams, once again. If she could cry, she would.

  The waitress set the bowls of clam chowder on their table. Gabriella cast a quick look at her fingernails. They were square tipped perfect.

  “Wow! This smells delicious,” Max said, while rubbing his hands with anticipation.

  Gabriella fanned her fingers inches over her steaming bowl. She wanted those clams, damned the consequences. She dove her spoon into the chowder. A tidal wave of cream with a coveted clam washed onto it. Lifting the longed for culinary grail to her mouth, Gabriella hugged the spoonful with her lips. She could feel the wet, gritty sand between her toes, and Uncle Claude’s thick hand, reassuringly strong across her shoulders. Ah, ma
cherie, quite a catch today! Gabriella swallowed. The clam slid down her throat like velvet. She gasped.

  Concern wrinkled across Max’s forehead. “Are you all right?”

  “Never better,” she murmured.

  She dug her spoon into the chowder, faster and faster, until she was shoveling it in. There was no going back. She’d already broken the cardinal rule of solid food. But Gabriella couldn’t stop. Every taste was orgasmic. Images of her running along the beach and waving her hands joyously in the air flashed by. She was drinking in the sun, the heat of it kissing her cheek. What she wouldn’t give to feel warmth again. That wasn’t possible now. But what was, was the momentary gift of the clam chowder. She’d take that. Gabriella picked up the bowl, brought it to her lips, and tipped every last drop of the “heavenly” concoction into her mouth. She swallowed it with abandon.

  Max arched his eyebrows. “Hungry, were you?”

  “Insatiable!”

  ****

  The evening was shaping up better than Max had planned, despite the awkward scene earlier. And the way she sucked down that chowder was way too sexy. It was primal! He wanted her right then and there. But he’d restrain himself. The last thing Max wanted was for Gabriella to think him a beast. He’d worked hard wrangling this date. He wouldn’t spoil it now and risk going home alone.

  Max spooned his clam chowder. With her bowl licked clean, he’d have to quickly catch up. He didn’t want to keep her waiting. Insatiable, indeed, he mused. Once they were done here, he’d see to her satisfaction. His maleness eagerly agreed. While sipping her wine, Gabriella’s translucent green eyes reflected even wider through her glass. Like a snake charmer, her eyes reeled in his gaze. Chowder dripped from the corner of his mouth. Max grabbed a napkin and dabbed his lips.

  “Pardon me,” he said, flustered.

  Gabriella set the wine glass on the table. She traced her nail slowly around the rim and smiled just as slow. “You’re forgiven.”

  That’s all it took. Max tossed down his wine. He raised his finger. “Check, please!”

  The waitress waved her hand. “No, sir. Your dinners and drinks are complimentarily.”

  Transfixed by Gabriella, Max had forgotten the whole “waitress-on-the-run” incident.

  “Are you ready?” Max asked Gabriella.

  “Ready, if you are.”

  Max sprang from his seat and rounded the table. He set his hands on the back of her chair and eased it back as Gabriella stood. He slid his eyes from the back of her milky neck down past the curve of her spine. They screeched to a halt at her firm behind. Hot adrenaline shot through his veins, including the big one. Why couldn’t he control himself?

  Gabriella softly laughed. Without turning around, she whispered, “Let’s go, big boy!”

  Could she sense his throbbing?

  Gabriella turned, and with raised eyebrows, she cocked her head toward the restaurant door. Max trailed her close behind, blocking his burgeoning problem from patrons’ views. He had no such compulsion to disguise his pleasure from her. And he needn’t. Gabriella apparently approved of his enthusiasm.

  ****

  Max huddled close to her. Gabriella’s vampire senses were razor sharp, and she could smell his excitement. It matched hers. Her snack in the ladies room would hopefully hold her off from ravaging him. As they approached the restaurant door, Gabriella glanced at her ex-victim. The woman sat tall, looking statuesque in her chair. At least she was still breathing. Gabriella whisked the back of her hand behind the woman as she passed by her, grazing her shoulders. The woman snapped into animation. Gabriella nodded. She must not have completely severed her trance on the woman, a faux pas on her part. All was finally right. The evening was back on course.

  Once outside, Max slid from behind Gabriella and strode alongside her. He swung his arm around her. “You’re cold.” He shrugged off his dinner jacket and draped it across her shoulders. “This should warm you up.”

  Not likely, she mused. She did credit him points for chivalry, something that male vamps sorely lacked. It was all about the final fireworks for them. But who was she to judge them? Fueled by her own desire, she was primed to light up the night sky with her own display of fiery rockets; Max would be pinned to her sheets somewhere in the middle of all that.

  They entered the dim parking garage. Their stroll intimate, they bypassed the elevator and walked to the car’s level. Gabriella sighed, content in Max’s embrace. This would be her first mortal conquest. She’d only satisfied her lust in the past by draining men. Oddly, she wanted to keep Max as he was, alive and attentive. Gabriella laughed inwardly. He’d make a lousy vampire!

  Max’s footsteps struck the concrete like a metronome. Clack-Clack-Clack-Clack. Her vampire feet made no echo. A car alarm blared. Its lights flashed mercilessly into Gabriella’s eyes. She winced and grabbed her ears. The intersecting noises thundered in her head. She lamented her super-heightened senses.

  Max shot open the passenger car door. He yelled over the squawking car alarm coming from the next row over. “I hate when that happens. No one pays attention to those.”

  His words tangled with the offended car’s wails. Something had set it off. They weren’t near that vehicle. As Gabriella ducked her head into Max’s sedan, a shadow raced by. Her pupils sparked wide. Volk! It couldn’t be. She’d been safe for the last two centuries. Gabriella blinked. The presence was gone. The car alarm stopped. Convincing herself that it was another vamp cruising for prey, Gabriella stroked Max’s thigh. He was her territory, and that passing vamp knew it.

  “Let’s go,” she said, barely controlling her fangs.

  Max grinned and tapped the steering wheel with anticipatory staccato. He bolted the Cadillac into reverse, shifted into drive, and peeled out of the garage.

  “Anxious, are you?” she asked in a throaty voice.

  “For you, always!”

  Gabriella wiggled in her seat. Not only had the clams surprisingly stayed down, they’d made her even hornier. An aroused vampire was dynamite, and this evening was about to explode.

  “Faster,” she whispered in his ear.

  On command, Max floored the accelerator.

  Chapter Three

  Max skidded the car into Gabriella’s driveway. It rocked to a stop.

  “It’s dark out here,” he said. “Aren’t you spooked living in a secluded place like this?” He turned and touched her cheek. “I’m worried about you being out here all alone. It’s not safe, especially for a beautiful woman.”

  “Max, darling, no worries. I have no fear, and I enjoy the seclusion. I suspect you’ll soon see why.”

  It was her visitors that should be afraid.

  “I’m all for that.” Max raised his hand. “Stay right there.”

  He jumped out of the car and ran to the passenger side. Clicking the handle, Max opened Gabriella’s door. He gave her his hand. Soon he’d give her more. More that she craved.

  “Show me the way,” he said. “Literally, I mean, because I can’t see a thing out here.”

  Which was good, Gabriella thought, as there could be many “things” lurking in the woods.

  Max clung to Gabriella like a blind man up the porch stairs, his hands on the back of her shoulders to guide him through the dark. Her ears perked. Someone was trespassing on her property, and that someone was behind the third oak tree from the house. She’d have to take care of matters now, and Max was not to witness any of this. It pained her, but she’d have to get rid of him, at least for tonight. Whoever had spoiled her evening was going to pay for it!

  Gabriella halted. Max smacked into her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his words hanging in the thick night.

  Gabriella lied quickly. “I don’t feel well.” She hunched over and grabbed her stomach. “It must be the clams. Sorry, but I need to run to the bathroom. Please go. This isn’t going to be pretty.” She squeezed his hands as gingerly as she could. “Go. My porch lights don’t work.” Another lie. “Use your
headlights to find your way back to the car.”

  “Let me stay and take care of you.”

  “No. I’ll be fine in a few hours. See you tomorrow night.”

  “But...” Max persisted.

  “Go! Please!”

  “All right. Call me. Let me know you’re okay. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? Maybe I should take you to the ER for IV fluid hydration and anti-emetics. Oh, God. I feel so sorry you’re sick. I don’t understand it. My chowder was fine.”

  She touched his cheek. “You’re sweet, Max. But I’ll be fine. If it gets worse, I promise I’ll call you.”

  He hesitated. “Okay. But call me.”

  “I promise.” She had to move him along.

  Max clicked the car remote. The headlights beamed onto the porch. Gabriella squinted and waved him away. She puffed out her cheeks for dramatic effect and fled inside her sanctuary, shutting the door on Max and on a night of reckless abandon of the best kind.

  Gabriella waited until the crunch of his tires had faded before she flung open her front door. Her fingernails sprang to full talons and her fangs sprouted past her lips. Whoever was hiding from her would soon feel her wrath. She flew in milliseconds to the tree, her feet inches from the soft dirt. Her evening was already ruined. No way was she going scuff the tips of her prized Jimmy Choo’s. Gabriella snapped her hand around the tree and grabbed a wad of hair. She yanked the woman to the ground, and primed the points of her fangs at the intruder’s neck. About to twist the woman’s head around her neck, Gabriella halted. Damn! It was the runaway waitress.

  She released the woman from her grip and thumped the waitress’s head against the ground. Pine needles snapped as quickly as her temper. “What are you doing here?”

  The waitress gazed into Gabriella’s eyes with supplication. The woman sat up and plucked twigs from her mussed blonde strands. “I know who you are. I saw your nails. I read vampire books.”

  Gabriella rolled her eyes. “You can’t believe everything you read.” She swiped her claws at the base of the woman’s neck, close enough to scare her, but purposely far enough away not to draw any blood, yet. Gabriella studied her. “If you know who I am, why do you risk intruding upon me?”

  The waitress cowered but did not break her gaze into Gabriella’s eyes. “I was frightened, yet awed by you.” She continued, her voice meek. “I saw how that man you were with worshipped you; how you pulled him right to you.” She rolled onto her knees. “Please, I want to be like you.”