Page 14 of Client from Hell

“I’m going to have to keep getting transfusions from the donor?” I guessed.

“This is a distinct possibility. The amount of blood you’ve required for the treatments isn’t going to make this widely available for most. There just aren’t enough willing lycanthrope donors.”

“But it’s possible, which means it can be studied.”

“Yes. You’ve proven the theory is plausible. If you were to have a mate, it’s possible the virus would be able to sustain itself throughout the treatments. Essentially, your mate’s virus would work with yours to boost it while you heal. Honestly, this method of treating cancer is something that could, potentially, become viable for those who are willing to take a mate, as their new mate would be a willing donor. If their blood types don’t initially match, the virus can be extracted and donated, although it’s less efficient until the woman’s blood type changes to match her man’s.”

“Wait. Until the woman’s blood type changes? Is it always the woman’s blood type?”

“Yes. The virus always seems to adapt the woman’s blood type. We suspect it has to do with the human reproductive cycle. It’s currently believed the virus works with the woman’s menstrual cycle to eject the old blood type during the blood conversion process. Since men don’t menstruate, it would be more challenging for the virus to do the work. Something about the virus’s magic keeps incompatible blood types from causing death, although those in the medical profession are unwilling to attempt non-matching blood type transfusions.”

“Essentially, lycanthropy is the cure for cancer.”

“There are no known cases of a post-shift lycanthrope having cancer. The virus does need to be matured or given in a high enough quantity before it is able to combat cancer. This treatment wouldn’t work through natural lycanthropy infection. You would die from the cancer long before the virus was able to help you. That puts us back to step one in terms of cancer research, although we might be able to help others in similar shoes to yours if they’re willing to take the risks.”

I nodded, wondering how long I would’ve lived if I’d been prejudiced against lycanthropes. Many feared the virus—or, more accurately, they feared the restrictions the infection brought along with a lengthened lifespan. For some, freedom trumped all else. I wanted to live, and coping with the restrictions bothered me a great deal less than looking down the barrel of terminal cancer.

“The really good news is that you’re improving much faster than we anticipated, even considering how much infected blood you’ve received. So, try to bear with it a little longer. Tomorrow, we’ll conduct some tests in the morning and the evening, but you can have visitors starting at ten until the end of hours. I spoke with your doctors, and they approved you having whatever food you want brought in if you’d like, but make sure you have at least five thousand calories. You need to feed the virus and yourself.”

“Five thousand?” I blurted.

“I know it’ll be a challenge, but view it as an opportunity to binge on whatever you want. Your virus has established itself enough you should be digesting faster than you’re used to.” Marie set both of the x-rays on the table near my bed along with her tablet. “Try to walk around if you can to start rebuilding your strength. The tablet has your complete medical record on it, and I’ve been instructed to give you an opportunity to review everything. There is an explanation of all results, in layman terms, with the records. If you have any questions, ring for a nurse, and someone will help explain things to you.”

“Thanks, doc.”

Marie smiled and headed for the door. “I’m glad to help, and it’s nice when we get a chance to beat the odds. It’s rare.”

To make my doctors and nurses happy, I walked as far as I absolutely could, which was roughly fifty feet. Then, after catching my breath and drinking a protein shake, I aimed for fifty-one feet. As I still needed special drugs and counted as fragile, a nurse kept me company the entire time, and her praise fueled my determination almost as much as my desire to leave the hospital. I occupied myself for three hours, reaching sixty-three feet before I surrendered to my general exhaustion and returned to my room to review the internship offer one more time.

I debated between calling Diana or emailing her, and I determined I was so starved for conversation with someone who wasn’t a doctor or nurse I’d make use of her invitation to bother her.

On the third ring, she answered, “Good evening, Sandra. How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good, actually. I might get discharged the day after tomorrow, although I’m under the impression I’ll be back in the body shop due to illness in a hurry. My marching orders are to go expose myself to sick people. I find this to be a little strange, as I’m in a place where sick people go to get better, but I’m guessing they don’t want me to infect the sick people trying to get better. Not with lycanthropy, but with whatever germs I’m supposed to be contracting in the wild. I have a counter offer I wanted to pitch to you.”

“Let me grab a notepad and a pen,” she replied, and a few moments later, I heard the slap of papers hitting a hard surface. “Whatever your salary counter was, add at least twenty-five percent. I’ve been reminded women are expected to be happy with the offers they receive. I’m guilty of this. My fiancé spent an hour earlier proving he was right, and the bastard enjoyed it.”

In the background, someone laughed.

Upon evaluating my notes, I decided her fiancé was onto something. “Okay. I’m taking that advice. I was initially going to request forty an hour. As such, I’m now requesting sixty an hour, as sixty sounds better than fifty-five.”

“I cannot dispute that logic, so I won’t. Good. Sixty an hour is reasonable for the headache Lucifer will inevitably give you. Now, add your twenty thousand bonus for putting up for Lucifer’s idiocy. That’s on top of your base sixty per hour, with it reoccurring yearly. As Lucifer’s idiocy truly knows no boundaries, you should request a ten percent per year minimum increase to that bonus.”

“Am I allowed to be a little gay? At least a little gay enough to say I think I love you and how you think?”

“You don’t have to be gay to love someone of the same gender. Good friendships are founded on love, and I find that being friends with my co-workers makes life a lot better. But I am not the kind to become offended by such affections. I deal with succubi on an almost daily basis, and I’ve gotten used to being fondled, hugged, cuddled, and otherwise handled by other women. Maybe I should suggest you add a bonus to deal with the various demons and devils. It’s quite the adjustment.” Diana sighed. “The more I think about it, the more I think this offer, even Lucifer’s upgraded offer, is just not high enough. He has had an idea.”

“Ideas are dangerous things in the wrong hands,” I muttered.

“Lucifer’s hands are always the wrong hands. Always. It took me about a month in his employee to learn this terrible truth. Worse, my fiancé is one of his nephews, so I simply can’t get rid of him. It doesn’t help I literally live in hell, and technically, he’s one of my neighbors. It’s a decent hike to his house from mine, but it doesn’t change the fact there are no beings offering any form of buffer.” Diana chuckled, and then she added, “It would not surprise me if you become one of my neighbors, too. Lucifer keeps his preferred people close, and Darlene has stars in her eyes regarding her brother.”

Who had time for an incubus around permanently? Not me. Or maybe not me, depending on the realities of the incubus. “She has stars in her eyes because he’s whining?”

“The whining is a real problem, but really, Jonas is lonely, he’s too dedicated to his partners to make a good incubus, but Lucifer was concerned he would become violent if converted into another demonic or devilish type. Incubi are pretty varied.”

“He wasn’t always an incubus?”

“Oh, no. He had a bad run as a mortal, and Lucifer saved him to get on Darlene’s good side.” After muttering a few curses and something under her breath, Diana said, “If they want to tell you about how he became an incubus, they will. But he started out as mortal as you and me, as did Darlene. The Devil has his way of corrupting the poor unfortunate souls stuck with him.”