For the sick, injured, or dying, human doctors were not a good option, even though the two species shared much of the same anatomy. If a human physician ordered a CBC on some blood from a vampire, they would find all sorts of anomalies and imagine they had something worthy of the New England Journal of Medicine. It was best to avoid that kind of attention.
On occasion, however, a patient would end up at a human hospital, a problem that was on the rise since the advent of 911 and fast-response ambulances. If a vampire was hurt badly enough to lose consciousness away from home, he was in danger of being picked up and taken in to a human ER. Getting him out of a facility against medical advice was always a struggle.
Havers wasn't arrogant, but he knew he was the best doctor his species had. He'd gone through Harvard Medical School twice, once in the late 1800s and then again in the 1980s. He'd stated on his application in both instances that he was disabled, and HMS had permitted him special allowances. He hadn't been able to attend the lectures because they'd taken place during the day, but his doggen had been allowed to take notes and hand in his examinations. Havers had read all the texts, corresponded with the professors, and even attended seminars and talks that were scheduled at night.
He'd always loved school.
When he got upstairs, he wasn't surprised to see that Marissa had not come down to the dining room. Even though luncheon was served at one A.M. every night.
He went to her rooms.
"Marissa?" he said at the door. He knocked once. "Marissa, it's time to eat."
Havers stuck his head inside. Light from the chandelier in the hall drifted in, cutting a golden slice through the blackness. The draperies were still down across the windows, and she hadn't turned any of the lamps on.
"Marissa, darling?"
"I'm not hungry."
Havers stepped through the door. He could make out her canopy bed and the small swell of her body under the covers.
"But you missed luncheon last night. As well as dinner."
"I'll come down later."
He shut his eyes, concluding that she'd been to feed the night before. Every time she saw Wrath, she would retreat into herself for days afterward.
He thought of the living cells down in his lab.
Wrath might be their race's king by birth, and he might have the purest blood of them all, but the warrior was a bastard. He seemed totally unconcerned with what he was doing to Marissa. Or perhaps he didn't even know how much his cruelty affected her.
It was hard to decide which was the worse crime.
"I've made some important progress," Havers said, going over to the bed and sitting down. "I'm going to set you free."
"From what?"
"That… assassin."
"Don't talk about him like that."
He gritted his teeth. "Marissa-"
"I don't want to be free of him."
"How can you say that? He treats you with no respect. I hate the idea of that brute feeding off you in some back alley-"
"We go to Darius's. He has a room there."
The idea that she was being exposed to another of those warriors didn't make him any happier. They were all frightening, and a few were downright horrific.
He knew the Black Dagger Brotherhood was a necessary evil to defend the race, and he knew he should be grateful for their protection. Except he couldn't feel anything save dread at their existence. The fact that the world was dangerous enough, the race's enemies powerful enough, so as to mandate the likes of those warriors was tragic.
"You don't have to do this to yourself."
Marissa rolled over, turning her back to him. "Leave me."
Havers planted his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. His memories of Marissa before she'd begun to service their dreadful king were so very dim. He could recall only bits and pieces of the way she'd been, and he feared the joyous, smiling young female was forever lost now.
And what was in her place? A somber, subdued shadow who floated around his house, pining for a male who treated her with no regard whatsoever.
"I hope you will reconsider luncheon," Havers said softly. "I would love to have your company."
He shut the door quietly and went down the ornate, curving staircase. The dining room table was set as he liked it, with a full complement of china, glassware, and silver. He sat down at the head of the glossy table, and one of his doggen came in to serve him some wine.
Looking down at the plate of Bibb lettuce before him, he forced a smile. "Karolyn, this salad is lovely."
Karolyn bowed her head, eyes glowing from his praise. "I went to a farm stand today just to find the right leaves for you."
"Well, I most certainly appreciate the effort." Havers cut into the delicate greens as she left him alone in the beautiful room.