Page 15 of Fangs and Family
Another week passed. After several days ended in another failed lead, I fell into a funk that even Sara couldn’t alleviate. I’d even talked to Kamil, who, as an undercover policeman, had connections I’d never have access to alone, but even he couldn’t find anything and when he’d tried flirting to cheer me up? I’d kicked him out of my apartment with a stinging cheek and a few choice swear words.
I hired a private detective, but the days flew by, and he couldn’t find anything, so he gave up, increasing my frustration.
It felt like fate was stripping me of options, but I wasn’t yet ready to sell my blood to the vampire.
Today, I was at my wit’s end, struggling to even dress before heading to work. I drove slowly, not trusting my own abilities, with my mind constantly analysing my dwindling options. My resources were limited, my wallet was emptying fast, and I was no closer to finding Pawel. I couldn’t ask Sara to scry for him again, not after she told me about the block and I’d seen the toll it took on her. If she said someone or something was hiding my brother, they were, and there was no point asking her to do it again.
I remembered how we searched for Czernobog’s disciple when the God of Darkness threatened Leszek’s domain, but this time, it wasn’t a powerful organisation that was difficult to hide. It was one human who was good at disappearing.
‘Can’t you just phone me? You’ve never listened before when I wanted you to go away; why this time?’ I questioned, wishing Pawel could hear me.
My question left me sighing, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. If only the sibling link so popular in movies actually existed, but no, even Hollywood failed to help me.
‘Why does my life have to be so fucked up? Justonce, I wish I could have some happiness,’ I grumbled, allowing myself a moment of self-pity before heading to work.
I parked the car and looked at the front of the beautiful clinic that, despite being near the dockland area, seemed to blend into the surrounding natural features. I loved working here despite doing more paperwork than I would have preferred nowadays. Being a nurse, facing the challenges of treating not-so-human patients, and the thrill of working with a team who were more family than colleagues was a dream come true that I wouldn’t give up for the world. Yet today, I wish I could just skip a day or more because I didn’t know if I could face everyone and keep a professional demeanour.
‘Come on now, Nina, leave your troubles at the door. The people inside need to see you as capable and professional.’ My pep talk was awful, but it still worked as I walked through the door, and reality came to smack me in the face.
‘Nina, thank god, we’re short-staffed today. The triage nurse called in sick.’ The day shift lead said as soon as she saw me. I wasn’t even properly at work, still wearing my civilian clothes, and I already had a problem to solve.
‘Fine, I’ll do it.’ I said.
That’s one way to keep my mind occupied,I thought, and part of me revelled in the thought of being on the front line. Triage was always busy, with little time to think or dwell on your problems and emotions. It didn’t take me long to change clothes and sit in the triage room. There were already a few patients waiting to be seen, none of them in need of emergency treatment. I checked them over, measured their vital signs, and gave them advice and any prescriptions before sending them on their way.
‘Nina, do you want some coffee?’ Asked a junior nurse when she came to check up on me, and I nodded to her.
‘Sure, it’s been a little busy here, and I could use five minutes to stretch my legs. My backside is getting flat from sitting in this chair.’ I said, stretching to ease my tense muscles.
‘Then maybe you should send some patients our way. The duty doctor keeps gushing about having the calmest night in ages. Be careful, or you’ll end up our permanent triage nurse,’ she laughed, and I smiled back, taking a moment to feel proud of my hard-earned competence.
‘What can I say? Most people didn’t even need to be here, but we had the lights on and the door open, so…’ I let my voice trail off, sharing the unspoken joke, and my colleague burst into laughter.
‘Whatever you say, oh mistress of boo-boos. Your coffee will be in the break room whenever you’re ready, and maybe you’ll even get some cake if you don’t dawdle,’ she joked. I took a quick look at the chart. There was only one more patient to go, presenting with an “open wound to the forearm.” So once I was done with him, I could go for a well-deserved break.
‘Leon Sapieha,’ I called out to the waiting room. I didn’t know what I expected, but the man who walked in wasn’t exactly someone I often saw in our clinic with any illness, let alone an open wound, but accidents can happen to anyone, so I shrugged it off.
First of all, he didn’t look distressed. He didn’t cradle his wounded arm or display any signs of pain. Instead, he inclined his head, looking around as if he wasn’t sure what to do before I pointed to the chair next to my desk.
‘Please have a seat and tell me what brought you here, Mr Sapieha,’ I said, taking a good look at him. He was forty, maybe fifty years old, with short tawny hair dusted with silver on the temples and a timeless, handsome face. He was attractive, but the way his eyes bore into mine with an unsettling intensity instantly put me on my guard.
‘Nina Zalewska?’ He asked with a hint of a foreign accent, pointedly looking at my name badge as if daring me to deny it. ‘I’m glad I was given the opportunity to meet with you this evening. I was wondering if you could help me with my… issue.’ He took off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeve, revealing a large cut on his arm.
It wasn’t bleeding. The skin looked pale around the edges, almost as if the patient tried to cauterise the wound. Still, it was too clean and looked self-inflicted from the angle and location, making me wonder just what was going on.
‘Did you cut yourself on purpose?’ I asked, watching his expression closely for signs of distress, so it came as a surprise to see him smirk slightly before answering.
‘Yes. It was a requirement for some personal business. However, that is unimportant, so can we ignore the why and focus on repairing the damage?’ He answered perfectly politely, and I felt my hackles rise in response. I took another look at him, assessing who he might be under his immaculately tailored clothes, trimmed hair, and handsome features. He felt old, and sure as hell, he wasn’t human. After two years of working here, I could easily identify the elder races.
‘Of course, Sir. If you don’t mind, may I ask what kind of… person you are? I wouldn’t wish to apply a treatment that might potentially bring harm to someone of a certain sensibility.’ I didn’t like being subtle, but with so many needing to hide their background, you learned to come at the critical questions from the side.
‘A vampire,’ Mr Sapieha replied, smiling widely to reveal his sharp canines for the first time.
I blinked rapidly. Vampires don’t come to the clinic. You killed them, or they healed themselves by doing some otherworldly juju that came with black smoke and temporary disappearance. Yet, here was one, and he was sitting calmly in a relaxed pose, observing my every move. The entire scene felt off, and if life had taught me anything about vampires, it was that they could move incredibly fast.
This one didn’t display any aggression, but under his polished sophistication and elegance, I could feel the coiled violence, and my body instinctively reacted to the threat. However, it wasn’t the first time I stared death in the face.Fake it till you make it,I thought, approaching him with confidence.
‘I’m glad you came to us. This clinic is under the protection of the Leshy, so feel free to relax. I’m happy to help you with your injury, so I’ll just grab a suture kit,’ I said, trying to keep my expression calm after hinting that Leszek would protect the staff and not just the patients.
