Page 34 of Silent Stalker
I chuckled at the thought of a grouchy Emerick dealing with life tomorrow while I floated around in drug-induced clouds. “Will the drugs leave some base coherency?”
“Surprisingly, yes. You’ll feel like your head is wrapped in fluffy cotton, and you’ll be rather numb, but you’ll have general comprehension and ability to think. You’ll have to put more work in to concentrate on anything, and you’ll have a tendency to want to go nap, but you’ll be fine. This is the same cocktail I gave you shortly after you arrived and Emerick thought you needed more rest.”
I had married a sneaky, sneaky man. Rather than complain, I held out my bandaged arm. “It’s bad. There’s blood everywhere, and I’ve been told I can’t partake of my favorite treat because of the vaccinations.”
“That’s right. You can’t nibble on your dessert until late tomorrow night at the earliest.” Giovanni set his bag down, retrieved a black leather kit, and opened it to reveal individually wrapped sterile needles, nylon thread, packages of suturing adhesive, and suture tape.
I pointed at the adhesive and tape. “Why don’t I get those?”
“You’re getting the adhesive over the stitches. The adhesive will prevent other vampires from smelling your blood, and the stitches will keep things together if you get into any altercations with other vampires. It’s more secure. We only use the tape if we don’t have time to stitch it properly. The adhesive over the stitches will make things a little uncomfortable, but you’ll survive. We have a solvent that’ll let us wipe it off once you’ve healed sufficiently. With your level of damage? I’ll remove it tomorrow night and you should be fine. You’re healing better than you were when you first came to us.”
Ben chuckled. “It’s another benefit of being a vampire. We really do have optimal healing. It’ll take a few days for you to heal completely, but you’ll appreciate being free of those stitches by the end of tomorrow night.”
“Do you think they’ll ever stop trying to sales pitch the benefits of vampirism, Giovanni?”
“I would expect them to stop pestering you approximately a year after you sigh happily over being a vampire and have sufficiently convinced them you feel you are not living in your personal hell.”
Damn. As the doctor had already gone for my throat, I waved my arm at him. “Less shoving my former prejudices at me, more with stabbing and misery, please.”
Giovanni chuckled. “They do not believe that it’s possible for someone to make such progression in such a short period of time. I told them to stop underestimating the determination of a scorned woman on a mission to murder her maker.”
“You are the most sensible member of this brood, second possibly to Salania,” I informed him.
“Master Emerick can be quite sensible,” Giovanni stated, pulling out a pouch, which proved to be full of prepped syringes. “I have received the vaccination list you were given, and I have a few extra for your enjoyment. In good news, being a vampire does allow me to pump you full of every vaccination I can, and unlike a regular human, your immune system will figure it out without issue. I do believe a regular human might implode should they be given this many vaccines at one time. Or become a mutant. Either seems possible.”
“How lovely.” To my amusement, the pouch had my name embroidered on it. “You label the medicine pouches with your victim’s name?”
“It does help keep things orderly, and I do enjoy stitching when I am blessed with a few quiet moments. If you can impress upon the brood I would appreciate more quiet time, I would be appreciative. I have simply not been able to enjoy as much stitching as I would like. But yes, I make a pouch for every member of the brood, and when I am making my preparations, I use these pouches to help make certain I bring the appropriate medications and dosages. Such a simple thing has made a big difference.”
“You’re clever, and I like that,” I informed him. “You’re not bad for an Italian.”
Giovanni grinned. “Your father’s hatred of Italians is quite amusing. Do you know the story of that?”
“There’s a story to it? I just thought he hated them like he hates everyone else who doesn’t do what he wants.”
“Well, that is part of it. Before you were born, he attempted to negotiate some deals with one of the less savory groups originating out of Sicily. The negotiations did not go as he wanted, mainly because he is smart enough to recognize a bad deal when it crosses his path. My fellow countrymen understood he meant to use them, so the dislike is mutual. For someone with exposure to such prejudices, you do very well at controlling your initial reactions. You are aware of your unconscious bias and work at eliminating it.”
“It seems rather mandatory, else I’ll have to mope around this penthouse hating myself, and that’s just way too much work.”
In the kitchen, Emerick snorted.
“I don’t think he believes I’m capable of moping around the penthouse while in the throes of self-hatred, Giovanni.”
“Tomorrow night, you should indulge in a good mope, as you will feel rather miserable even with the drugs I’ll be giving you. There is a time and a place for a good mope. Go ahead and indulge. It is good for your general mental health. Should you have any urges to indulge beyond tomorrow night, call for me, and I will do my best to look deeper into the problem.”
“Is that an urge for any form of indulgence? There are potentially issues here, Giovanni.” Aware I’d be stabbed in the upper arm, I turned so he could get to work. “Frankly, I’ve seen enough sharp, pointy things enter my skin so far tonight, so I’m just going to look over here and pretend I’m not having to deal with this.”
“That works. I’ll use a local where I’ll be doing the stitching, but they’re nothing compared to what you’re about to get. Thanks to a little magic, it’s going to hit like a train.”
“I have never experienced being hit by a train, and I don’t think I want to experience being hit by a train.” I forced my arm to relax to mitigate how much the onslaught of needles would hurt. “I feel like my husband is spending too long playing with the courier.”
Emerick laughed, and after a moment, he came into the sitting room holding a thick package of papers. “Your father has decided to add some entertainment to our evening. I sent his courier off with a request to call tomorrow. He wants a meeting, but with your vaccinations, a phone call will have to do. If there’s an emergency, I gave him a number he can call. A few of our older vampires enjoy staying awake during daylight hours and resting at night. They’re old and grouchy, so I wish your father much luck dealing with them. As we’re on high alert, they’re old, grouchy, and easily provoked.”
“Not only am I barred from having dessert, I’m getting even more vaccinations, Emerick.”
“You need them if you don’t have them all,” he replied. “One of the benefits of being vampires is our access to more vaccines. We get protections against certain ailments of magical nature that haven’t been approved for human use yet. We’re the test subjects. Alas, they did not anticipate how readily vampires accept vaccines while rejecting things like toxins. It does help streamline the approval process for humans somewhat, but there’s still a lot to learn about vampires and immunology.”
“And if you reject bad vaccines, you just benefit from the testing they’re doing on you?”
