“Great.”
I got report from Lynn, who’d had rooms A through D during P.M. shift. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” I asked as we were co-signing charts together.
“No, and I’ve been here for fifteen years. They’re creepy.” She signed her name and clicked her pen shut. “Have a good night—I’m going to go home and try not to dream.”
My first patient was female. She was a little cleaner than the rest, but she stood like Gideon had not long ago, with her back toward me, staring at a point on the wall.
“Do you know what’s happening to you right now?” I came up beside her and pushed her gently to sit on the bed. “Has anyone talked to you about the choices you’ve made?” I kept trying. “Can you tell me your name?”
I saw movement outside the room and looked up—Gina was waiting for me by the door.
I pushed the woman back into the bed, then lifted up her feet, forcing her to lie down. I tucked her in and went to meet Gina outside.
“It’s the same up and down the line. Depressing,” Gina said.
“Is this normally how it goes?” I asked her. When Gina had infected herself for Brandon’s sake, she’d seemed to manage fine. It certainly hadn’t made her comatose.
“Not in the least. Usually weres are more full of life. Vibrant. Brash.”
I wasn’t sure those were the terms I’d have used to describe Lucas groping me last night. “Can we give them shots? Like the ones that cured you?”
“No. As the local pack, Deepest Snow assumed responsibility for them, as of this morning.”
“So?”
“You need consent for shots. None of them can give it right now, seeing as they can’t talk. And Deepest Snow won’t agree. They asked on day shift and Helen said no. Said she’ll integrate them somehow.” Because that worked so well with Viktor. Gina saw my frown. “I don’t like it any better than you do. Maybe they’ll straighten out by the end of the night. Lock all their doors, okay?”
“Okay.” I went to do it. I didn’t like it, but the only thing that’d make me feel worse than locking them inside their rooms would be having them out here with me.
* * *
Taking care of people who only sat and stared and breathed began to wear at my soul. It felt like someone was performing a cruel psychological test, and I was the lab rat. I hooked all of my people up to their oxygen saturation monitors, not because I was afraid they’d stop breathing, but because it’d tell me if they moved. I went out to the main nursing station, where Charles was, and sat in front of the main monitor to watch all their oscillating blue lines. Meaty sat across from us, doing paperwork.
“I needed to get out of crazy corner,” I explained to Charles.
“You shouldn’t have let them sucker you into so much were-stuff in the first place.”
“Gee, thanks.” I made a sour face. “Who’re you taking care of?”
“My one lone, lovely daytimer. He got a blood transfusion—vampire blood, half a cc—earlier today. He’ll be healed by dawn. It’s looking like I can take tomorrow night off.” Charles kicked his chair and wheeled aside.
“Don’t think I’m not jealous of you,” I told him.
“Why? You have it off too. Almost everyone will. Those weres should get better, and it won’t take a whole team to watch Winter die.”
“I have some other stuff to take care of tomorrow night.”
“I hope you have some fun, too. You’ve been serious lately, Spence. Too much work is taking the spirit out of you.”
“Don’t I know it.” I charted each of my patient’s oxygenations and heart rates for the hour. It was almost two. “How come you get to pick your assignment?”
“Because I’m the oldest nurse on the floor. Meanest, too, if you count that time I beat Meaty arm wrestling.”
Meaty snorted, but didn’t stop printing off medication reconciliation forms.
A phone rang. Not one of our normal phones, but an old-fashioned ring, like you heard in the background on old TV shows. Meaty started up, but Charles was closer and dug behind a tangle of power cords for the monitors and computers to bring out a dusty red phone.
“That’s the emergency phone, right?” I asked, guessing from the color, and Meaty nodded. I’d seen them on other floors—been in surgical ICU once on a float when they’d turned off the phones to work on them, but left that one on just in case. It looked like a child’s plaything, for kids who didn’t get to play with cell phones.
Charles’s face went dark. He handed the phone over to Meaty and then left the floor.