Page 39 of Claim of Blood
The witch hesitated, then stammered, “Anyway, the claim is settling slowly. I don’t know if that’s normal. He’s terribly low on blood. Severely dehydrated. Also—”
The door opened again, and Oren strode in holding a matte-black device.
Lander raised a brow. “That a chip scanner from the kennels?”
“Yes,” Oren said without looking up. “Doctor, we need him on his stomach. If it’s there, the chip will be between his shoulder blades.”
“A... what?” Elias blinked, clutching his tablet. “You can’t just move him—if there’s a chip, that doesn’t automatically justify removal! It could be inert, it could be—this is an incredibly hasty decision—”
He moved forward, posture bristling as he tried to shield Leo with his body. “You can’t move him without monitoring his vitals! There’s already a massive fluid deficit, and with the bond stabilizing—if you stress his system now—”
Lander stepped forward, set a firm hand on Elias’s shoulder, and steered him firmly aside.
The witch stumbled, indignant. “I am not finished—”
Nathaniel intercepted him mid-protest, one massive arm hooking around Elias’s waist as if he weighed nothing. The tablet wobbled precariously in his grip as he found himself pinned back-to-chest against a shifter twice his size.
Adam watched, equal parts exasperated and intrigued, as Nathaniel bent and inhaled deeply, wolf just beneath the surface. The Alpha’s expression turned unmistakably pleased.
Elias went very still, pupils dilated, heartbeat fluttering like a trapped bird.
“Easy, sweet stuff,” Nathaniel rumbled. “We’ve got the patient. You keep breathing.”
Elias blinked up at him, stunned silent. He didn’t seem inclined to struggle anymore.
Adam turned back to the bed. He and Lander carefully rolled Leo onto his stomach, mindful of the IV. Oren stepped forward and passed the scanner across Leo’s upper back.
The device beeped.
Six letters and a string of numbers glowed on the screen. Oren held it out, voice flat. “First three: manufacturer. Next three: GPS. This chip can be pinged.”
Adam’s stomach went cold. “They know everywhere he’s been. The council chamber. The underground.” His voice sharpened to a blade. “If they’re half as clever as we suspect, they already know Innsbrook is the heart of my Court.”
“And they left him anyway,” Lander murmured.
Oren nodded once. “We need to get it out.”
“You can’t just—” Elias blurted, voice climbing. “You need a sterile environment, proper monitoring—”
Adam didn’t look at him. “A witch, perhaps? What would you require?”
“I—I’m a pediatrician!” Elias sputtered, wide-eyed. “I don’t do surgeries!”
“But you completed a surgical rotation,” Lander said evenly. “Between your magic and training, you can do this.”
Elias’s uncertainty radiated off him—rapid breathing, tense shoulders, the too-quick flutter of his pulse.
Adam lifted a brow toward Nathaniel.
The Alpha shifted Elias gently until they were face-to-face. “Sweet stuff,” he murmured, voice dropping to velvet. “You’ve got this. Just tell us what you need.”
Elias’s blush rose bright and immediate. Adam almost smiled. If they had time, he might have enjoyed watching it unfold.
“Doctor,” he prompted, calm but implacable.
Elias swallowed. “I’ll need sterile tools. Scalpel, gloves, forceps, antiseptic, sutures... and a local anesthetic. Or he’ll wake up screaming.”
Adam nodded. Lander was already gone.
