Page 154 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
"Are you kidding me? Grateful, he's been on continuous tube feeding for a month. If you disconnect it, he's going to go hypoglycemic on your ass." She was right, of course. People had to be weaned from the stuff slowly, over days and weeks. The machine had to keep running.
"We need an ambulance."
Michelle's face went stoic. "Oh my God. You're serious."
"As a heart attack." Or a coma.
"We could lose our licenses."
"Yes, we could. I don't expect you to do this with me."
"Are you kidding me? I'm totally in." She flipped open her cell phone. "I know an EMT who might be able to help."
While she talked to her friend, I moved to the nurse's station. It was shift change, so it was deserted; the nurses were in the rooms getting reports. I wondered for a minute why no one had been in Logan's room but then realized they would probably visit him last, considering he was stable and unconscious. It's true what they say, that the squeaky wheel gets the grease, and comatose Logan was not squeaking.
I found a computer that one of the floor nurses hadn't logged out of. I felt guilty doing the dirty work under her name, but hell, if you couldn't train yourself to hit the little lock when you were done in the system, you deserved to be messed with. Also, if all went well tonight, I'd be using magic to reverse what I was about to do. I brought up Logan's file and marveled again that I had chosen the right name.
All that time I'd been searching for his name in his memories, and it was right in front of me-Logan Valentine, owner and chef of Valentine's, my favorite restaurant. I'd even seen the restaurant in his memories. I just didn't realize it was Valentine's. Somehow, the part of me that was the witch had known his name, even before I'd fully accepted my role.
I added a CT scan to his orders and scheduled it for now. That way, when the body was missing, the nurse would think radiology had come and taken him while she was away. That should give us enough time to get him home.
By the time I returned to the room, Michelle had found a gurney and was butting it up to the bed. "Help me move him."
"Sure, but we've gotta be quick. His nurse will be here any minute."
I moved to the other side of the bed and helped shift him onto the gurney. Moving his fluids over, I checked the drip rates. We had several hours before he'd run out. We were rolling him out the door when his nurse came barreling down the hall. Luckily she was new and didn't recognize either of us.
"Where are you two taking my patient?"
I tucked my ID into my pocket. "We're from Radiology. He's got orders for a CT."
"'Kay. You guys need help getting him in the elevator?"
"Nope. We've got it," Michelle said. With a cheesy smile plastered on my face, I held my breath until the doors closed.
I let it all out in a whoosh once we were alone.
"Should I be concerned she seemed almost excited to have one less patient to take care of?" Michelle asked.
"Wouldn't you be? I mean, it's not like people steal grown men in comas every day. She thinks he'll be back in an hour," I said.
"It's surprising, really, that more people don't get themselves a comatose guy. There's no better way to keep birds out of the garden."
I tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh.
"So, who is this EMT friend of yours and how are we going to get Logan to the ambulance?"
She shrugged. "The less you know the better. Trust me."
The elevator doors opened on the ground floor. I swung my head out and looked both ways.
"Clear," I whispered, and we rolled Logan out.
The hall seemed to stretch on forever as we proceeded toward the double doors to the back lot. Halfway there, trouble came around the bend in the form of Dr. Wellington. I winced. Dr. Wellington was St. John's resident windbag. This could take a while, and each passing minute could mean Logan's soul.
"Grateful Knight, I'm glad to run into you. I've been meaning to ask you about your opinion on the effects of low glycemic diet on controlling inflammation." Dr. Wellington walked right by Logan and Michelle as if they didn't exist and came to stand in front of me. Without looking up from the file in his hands, he continued to talk.
"Um, we're in the middle of something-"
