Read Online From the Ashes (Force of Nature Book 1) by Amber Lynn Natusch - Free Book Online
Authors: Amber Lynn Natusch
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incident, I looked around to find myself alone. No Doc. No Jase. No Dean. No mysteriously-soothing-voice man either.
I glanced to my right to find a battery of equipment and machines there with myriad wires and tubes extending from them to me. Monitors beeped rhythmically: the soundtrack to my reawakening. Trying gingerly to shift in the bed, I immediately regretted the decision. A sharp tugging sensation in my abdomen radiated out in nearly every direction possible. I stifled my outcry by biting my lip, only a squeak escaping, but in a household of super-hearing vampires, I might as well have sounded an alarm. It wasn't long before one of them arrived.
The last one I would have expected to see.
I stared at Merc as he hovered just inside the infirmary doors, my expression undoubtedly incredulous. Neither of us said anything at first (but why would he?). I was too busy trying to wrap my head around his presence there to form a sentence.
“I heard you,” he finally said, and my heart raced instantly. That voice. I knew that voice.
Of course, I thought to myself. Of course it had been Merc that night in the park. Any other vampire that could have been there that night I would have recognized. It made perfect sense that it was Merc that had whispered in my ear; but then again, it didn't. Until that night, he'd never uttered a word to me, or anyone else for that matter. Not for decades. So why to me and why at that moment?
“I tried to move,” I said softly, not certain why I felt the need to explain myself.
He nodded once before taking a step toward me. I tensed instinctively, making me wince. Merc stopped dead in his tracks, his mask of darkness taking over his countenance.
“I'll go get Doc.”
Without another word, he disappeared from the room. Doc arrived moments later to check on me.
“I need to look at your wounds, Piper,” she said with a grim expression. “I don't want you to be alarmed when you see them. I can't figure out why they're not healing...” Her voice trailed off, as though she were going over the possibilities while she spoke. “At any rate, you might not want to look at them until they're in better shape. I don't want you to be traumatized any more than you already have been.”
It was my turn to nod silently, turning to focus on the mint green tiled walls off to my left. I felt the blanket lift off of me, Doc being meticulously careful as she pushed both it and my gown to the side, exposing all of me from the breasts down. The air in the room felt exceedingly cold on my damaged tissue, but I tried to ignore it, counting the porcelain squares on the wall to occupy my mind instead.
A sound escaped Doc's mouth that I didn't think she'd meant to let out. It was ominous to say the least. Without thinking, I let my eyes dart to the sight that had drawn that noise from her. When I took in the charred and oozing, festering mess that was my torso, I choked back a sob. Doc had been right. I wasn't healing. In fact, my guess was that they were getting worse—infected.
“I just don't understand,” she whispered in disbelief.
“Am I going to die?” I managed to squeak out, tears streaming down my face.
“You shouldn't,” she replied in a faraway tone as she stared at my abdomen. Her answer was evasive and far from comforting. “Something is wrong, though. I've worked on every kind of magical being this world has to offer, and never once have I come upon one who could not heal wounds like this. Some may have required more intervention than others, but...”
“But what?”
“But I've done positively everything I could think of for the past two weeks, and you're still no better off.”
“Two weeks?” I blurted out.
She frowned slightly, pulling her gaze up to meet my eyes.
“Yes. I needed to buy time to try out different forms of treatment. It's taken more time than I expected it to.”
“How could I be out for that long and not know it?”
“Nothing I gave you for the pain
I glanced to my right to find a battery of equipment and machines there with myriad wires and tubes extending from them to me. Monitors beeped rhythmically: the soundtrack to my reawakening. Trying gingerly to shift in the bed, I immediately regretted the decision. A sharp tugging sensation in my abdomen radiated out in nearly every direction possible. I stifled my outcry by biting my lip, only a squeak escaping, but in a household of super-hearing vampires, I might as well have sounded an alarm. It wasn't long before one of them arrived.
The last one I would have expected to see.
I stared at Merc as he hovered just inside the infirmary doors, my expression undoubtedly incredulous. Neither of us said anything at first (but why would he?). I was too busy trying to wrap my head around his presence there to form a sentence.
“I heard you,” he finally said, and my heart raced instantly. That voice. I knew that voice.
Of course, I thought to myself. Of course it had been Merc that night in the park. Any other vampire that could have been there that night I would have recognized. It made perfect sense that it was Merc that had whispered in my ear; but then again, it didn't. Until that night, he'd never uttered a word to me, or anyone else for that matter. Not for decades. So why to me and why at that moment?
“I tried to move,” I said softly, not certain why I felt the need to explain myself.
He nodded once before taking a step toward me. I tensed instinctively, making me wince. Merc stopped dead in his tracks, his mask of darkness taking over his countenance.
“I'll go get Doc.”
Without another word, he disappeared from the room. Doc arrived moments later to check on me.
“I need to look at your wounds, Piper,” she said with a grim expression. “I don't want you to be alarmed when you see them. I can't figure out why they're not healing...” Her voice trailed off, as though she were going over the possibilities while she spoke. “At any rate, you might not want to look at them until they're in better shape. I don't want you to be traumatized any more than you already have been.”
It was my turn to nod silently, turning to focus on the mint green tiled walls off to my left. I felt the blanket lift off of me, Doc being meticulously careful as she pushed both it and my gown to the side, exposing all of me from the breasts down. The air in the room felt exceedingly cold on my damaged tissue, but I tried to ignore it, counting the porcelain squares on the wall to occupy my mind instead.
A sound escaped Doc's mouth that I didn't think she'd meant to let out. It was ominous to say the least. Without thinking, I let my eyes dart to the sight that had drawn that noise from her. When I took in the charred and oozing, festering mess that was my torso, I choked back a sob. Doc had been right. I wasn't healing. In fact, my guess was that they were getting worse—infected.
“I just don't understand,” she whispered in disbelief.
“Am I going to die?” I managed to squeak out, tears streaming down my face.
“You shouldn't,” she replied in a faraway tone as she stared at my abdomen. Her answer was evasive and far from comforting. “Something is wrong, though. I've worked on every kind of magical being this world has to offer, and never once have I come upon one who could not heal wounds like this. Some may have required more intervention than others, but...”
“But what?”
“But I've done positively everything I could think of for the past two weeks, and you're still no better off.”
“Two weeks?” I blurted out.
She frowned slightly, pulling her gaze up to meet my eyes.
“Yes. I needed to buy time to try out different forms of treatment. It's taken more time than I expected it to.”
“How could I be out for that long and not know it?”
“Nothing I gave you for the pain
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