Midweek, evening hours must be a busy time for the staff here, what with all the additional visitors rushing to see their loved ones after a day at work. Nobody even looked at me as I pounded up two flights of stairs and ran along the overheated corridor.
Of course, I got lost following the signs on the third floor. A kind nurse directed me to ICU, just off the general cardiac ward, and I was sorry once she left me in the waiting room. It had been nice to have someone to talk to for a few minutes. My nerves were making me edgy despite all the blood I’d been drinking to recover from my fight with Ten, but the sterile hospital scents made sure I stayed in control. The nurse had told me that my sisters were with Dad, so I had to wait for one of them to come out and get me. There was a strictly enforced two-to-a-bed rule, due to the serious nature of the surgery Dad had undergone.
I waited. I stared at the wilting potted plant on a low table in the corner of the tiny room. I tapped my feet on the blue tiles. I even found some gum (with only a small amount of fluff on it) in my jacket pocket. Chewing kept me occupied as the minutes ticked by.
Where was Caitlín? I figured that Sinéad wouldn’t exactly rush out to switch places with me – which I knew was unfair considering she’d bothered to call me in the first place – but surely Cait would want to see me.
Frowning, I sent her a quick text message, but her cell phone must have been switched off.
Screw it.
I would go into the ICU, anyway. What if something happened? I might still be sitting out here and miss it.
I crept into the corridor and followed the yellow arrow that pointed me toward Intensive Care. Pushing through the double doors, my stomach flipped with anticipation. I glanced into each curtained cubicle as I walked the short row of beds. There was a sense of calm in the unit, as though everyone knew that life and death were being decided, right here and now. Even the few visitors that had been allowed in were respectfully observing the near-silence.
I reached a partition that had my father’s name handwritten on a sign pinned up: Rory L. O’Neal. The curtains were shut. Someone was in there though, and it definitely wasn’t either of my sisters. It was a single male silhouette, backlit by a lamp and the various machinery that I could hear beeping. I made myself stop and compose myself for a moment. What if the surgeon was with him, checking on Dad’s progress? I couldn’t just burst inside. Could I?
A harried-looking nurse walked past me and gave me a quick smile. Nobody was stopping me. I shrugged, lifted the curtain and slipped through the gap.
I almost swallowed my gum in shock.
Theo
stood beside my father’s bed, looking down at him with an unreadable expression on his face.
I froze and dropped the curtain behind me, staring at my Maker. My jaw would have been on the floor if it could detach that far. What was he doing here? I felt like I’d walked into another bad remake of
The Twilight Zone
.
‘Moth,’ Theo said. He didn’t look up at me, just continued watching my father’s chest rise and fall. The only sounds in the cubicle were the hum of machinery and the soft hiss of Dad’s breathing, thanks to the ventilator they had him hooked up to. His usually ruddy complexion was now the color of raw putty. He looked like a corpse, and I couldn’t repress a shudder.
‘What are you doing here, Theo?’ I asked, managing to force the words out despite my shock.
He glanced at me, then turned back to my father. ‘To see the man who created you first.’
That sounded messed up. Was this yet another symptom of Nicole’s death? My Maker’s actions – coming here like this – was just another piece of evidence that he was losing it.
Unraveling.
I couldn’t possibly put any of that into words. Instead, I focused on more immediate matters. ‘How did you even know he was here?’ Then I slapped myself on the forehead. ‘Forget it. Holly told you, right?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She phoned me after you left the apartment. Something that you should have done yourself.’
‘I was kind of preoccupied! Checking in was the last thing on my mind.’
His face was impassive.
‘I’m sorry. I should have told you what happened.’ There, I said it. ‘I was planning on coming over to see you, but then my sister called.’
‘I am simply concerned about you. I wanted to be here for you.’
This was weird. And not a little uncomfortable. The man who ‘made’ me, and the man who Made me – together in the same space. Only I couldn’t exactly introduce Dad to Theo. Not that I would, even if he wasn’t heavily sedated with a machine breathing for him. I hated that I didn’t know how the surgery had gone. I needed to find Caitlín, to get the lowdown and also see how she was doing.
Theo watched the monitors as though hypnotized by them. ‘Humans are so fragile. Easily broken.’
‘Stop it. Please don’t say things like that.’ I walked around him and gazed at Dad’s face. If Theo was trying to scare me, he was doing a fine job.
Rory O’Neal, my father . . . I could still smell the blood and iodine from where he’d been stuck with needles. I half expected him to start leaking.
I studied his face – the face of a man I hardly knew. Familiar, and yet not. A retired cop (forced into retirement, rather than face a scandal) who’d lost his reason to go on living after Mom died. He’d always been a drinker, but in the last couple of years the habit had gotten out of control. He could no longer do his job, which gave him one less thing to hold onto.
‘Dad?’ It wasn’t like he was in any shape to reply, but I couldn’t help reaching out to him all the same. Even after everything we’d been through as a family, and how my father had pulled further and further away from us, I wanted him to get better. I ignored Theo hovering in the background, and touched my dad’s forehead. His skin was dry, like paper, and I suddenly wished I could get some moisturizer for him. Weren’t they taking care of him here?
Of course they are, I admonished myself. They just opened him up and tried to fix his heart. They’re trying to save his freaking
life
.
I am
so
messed up. Daddy issues? Man, I had all those bases covered. I glanced at Theo and quickly looked away.
Ew. Gross! Don’t even go there.
I shook my head to clear the image of my Maker’s pirate-smile.
But then I looked at him – the Theo who was standing right there with me – and realized that he couldn’t possibly have gotten in here without using coercion. He was particularly good at glamouring humans – tricking them with his powerful vampire influence. And exactly where
were
Sinéad and Caitlín?
‘Theo, did you speak to my sisters?’
He kept his eyes on Dad’s still body. I knew then that I’d guessed right, and I felt anger begin to bubble inside me.
He said: ‘I spoke with them, yes.’
I touched his arm, drawing him around to look at me. ‘You know what I’m asking you.’
‘I do,’ he said. ‘I spoke to your older sister. I . . .
suggested
that she was hungry, and that she might like to get something to eat before returning.’
I closed my eyes, trying to control my temper. Opened them again when I thought I wouldn’t yell. ‘Theo, I can’t believe you just went waltzing into her head like that. You might have
hurt
her.’
His face darkened. ‘You believe that I cannot control my power?’
‘Right now?’ I took a step toward him. ‘Yes, actually. I think you’re having trouble keeping it together.’
‘I did not harm her. You would do well to step back, little one.’
‘And Caitlín?’ I stayed right where I was, but I kept my voice low. I almost couldn’t get the words out. If he had messed with my little sister I didn’t know what I’d do. I only knew it would be something that I could never take back.
‘I saw her,’ he replied. ‘I didn’t speak to her.’
‘Do you promise?’
He finally met my eyes. ‘I promise.’
I felt the awful tightness in my chest relax. ‘Did she say anything to
you
?’
‘No,’ he said, frowning. ‘She . . . waved.’
I couldn’t help a sudden smile of relief. ‘Really?’
‘Yes. Just with her fingers.’ He shook his head. ‘Her courage is admirable.’
That was certainly one way to describe it.
I needed to find my sisters, but perhaps I should take this opportunity just to be with my dad. It didn’t help that Theo was here, looking over my shoulder, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. I’d pushed my luck about as far as it would go with him, tonight.
Tentatively, I stroked my father’s short hair. It was still red, even now. Faded, and with more flecks of silver than ever, but still the familiar O’Neal red. I was the odd one out even with my hair color. My chest hurt as I watched Dad fight for life.
He looked so
old
.
‘He is close to death,’ Theo said.
‘That’s not helpful.’ I swung round to glare at him. ‘Seriously, I know I’m supposed to show you respect, but can’t you see that I’m having a hard time dealing right now? Could you maybe show my
father
some respect?’
‘This machinery only prolongs the inevitable.’
I couldn’t look at my Maker any longer. Something dark was brewing inside me, and I didn’t like the direction my thoughts were heading in.
He suddenly put his hand on my shoulder and I jumped. His face was close to mine and his lips were against my ear. ‘I could help,’ he said.
My body went rigid as I tried to process his words.
Theo continued. ‘He’s in pain. Did you know that? I can feel it, even from here.’
‘He’s unconscious,’ I croaked. ‘Sedated. He can’t feel any pain at all.’
‘If believing that gives you comfort, so be it.’
‘Why are you trying to hurt me?’ I turned my head so that our faces almost touched. ‘You’re being cruel. This isn’t you, Theo.’
‘I am trying to help you. Both of you.’
‘Really?’ I asked. ‘Did you come to help him, or to put him out of his misery?’
His hand remained on my shoulder as he turned me to face him. ‘Why would I hurt him? I can’t do anything to him that he hasn’t already done to himself. Humans are so good at causing themselves pain.’
‘You
could
save him,’ I said, hating myself even as I said it. ‘You could turn him into a vampire. Would you do that, if I asked you to?’
I shouldn’t even be thinking it, I knew that. But just because Dad and I hadn’t been close – especially not in the last couple of years – didn’t mean I wanted him to
die
. How could I wish that on the man I’d once idolized? As a child, the sun had risen and set with Rory O’Neal. Sinéad and I used to fight over who got to carry his supper to the table. We’d creep around the house when he was working the night shift, and couldn’t wait for him to wake up at midday so we could hear all about his adventures while out on patrol.
Theo touched my shoulder. His face had softened and he looked more like himself. ‘You don’t know what you’re asking.’
‘I know exactly what I’m asking.’ Tears pricked my eyes and I shook his hand away. ‘Stop making me say crazy things. If you hadn’t come here, I wouldn’t be feeling like this. I want you to leave.’
‘I didn’t come here to help him, my little Moth. I came here to help
you
.’
‘Well, you’re not,’ I snapped. ‘Helping, I mean.’
‘You would have me Make him as we are? A man of his age, with heart disease and all of the . . . difficulties he has? All of his demons? I am sorry, my Moth, this is not the kind of man who should possess our gift.’
‘
Gift?
’ I shook my head. He was the second person to say that to me today. ‘This? What you did to me . . . that wasn’t a gift.’
‘And yet you would so quickly wish this
unwanted
gift on your father.’
‘I . . .’ I forced myself to take a breath, anything to make myself feel more grounded. ‘I just don’t want him to die; it’s not his time yet. There was nothing I could do for Mom. But now things are different.’
Theo cradled my face in his hands. ‘Had we met before your mother died, would we be standing by her hospital bed now, speaking of such things?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘You tell me. I didn’t even expect you to be here tonight.’
‘I was just paying my respects. It seemed fitting.’
‘You don’t know him.’
‘No, but I know you.’ He smiled, and it was such a pained expression I felt my heart crack open.
‘Theo, don’t . . .’
‘Why not? I have never lied to you before. Why start?’
I snorted. ‘Never lied to me? What about when we first met.’
He frowned. ‘I didn’t lie.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘You just failed to mention the most important thing about you.’
He shrugged, but had the good grace to look mildly chagrined.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I almost ignored it, thinking it might be Jace, but I figured I’d better check. It was a text message from Caitlín:
I’ve taken S to the canteen for food, but can’t stall her forever. Get him the hell OUT of there. I MEAN IT.
Cx
Great.
But also, good for Caitlín for keeping Sinéad safely out of the way. Especially considering how Theo had put the whammy on my older sister – which I wouldn’t be forgiving him for any time soon. He was acting more and more out of character, and soon I wouldn’t be able to cover for him and he’d be in even more trouble with the Elders. Possibly even with the High Council.
I sent Caitlín a one-word reply:
Done.
‘We have to go,’ I said to Theo.
‘Trouble?’ He nodded at my phone.
‘Just my sisters.’
I felt as though I was slowly dissolving into nothing, sort of like the ‘magical’ hangover tablets my father used to take, too many mornings to count. Back when we were all so much younger and I didn’t know that Daddy’s bad headaches were a sign of too much booze, and a self-destructive streak that would take hold later on.
We left the cubicle together, my Maker and I, and I resisted the urge to take one last look at Dad. I couldn’t bear it. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, sniffing loudly. ‘I have to go talk to my sisters before we leave.’