Page 5 of Saint of the Shadows

You make your choice. I like it. It’s hopeful. They called you Red Romano, but now you’re white, practically exsanguinated.

And that’s why they hire me. Because I’m efficient and effective.

That’s why they call me the Bloodsucker.

2

Familiar Faces

Marisol covered her yawn with her hand, noting her newly bandaged finger. As she headed back to the ER, the heightened adrenaline from earlier had faded and weighed down her limbs. So much for a break. She pushed through the double-doors into the main entryway to turbulent clashing and shouting, which stifled her second yawn.

Code frickin’ gray. A detective guy she recognized from Caz’s sentencing was in a typical third-shift kerfuffle. He, Dr. Foster, and an EMT struggled to strap a large patient with a bleeding head wound down. Another B’Lee overdose, by the look of it. Marisol picked a perfect time to return. “Here we go,” she muttered.

Right as the detective strapped one arm down, the patient swung at Dr. Foster, knocking her across the corridor into an empty hospital bed.Marisol grabbed a container from the nurse’s station and ran toward the fray.

With his giant paw, the patient pulled the detective by his tie, choking him. The security guard tried to pry the patient’s fingers from the tie, now a drum-tight string of silk. The patient swung his arm back, ready to strike the detective with a right hook. Marisol leaped, landed on the bed, jabbed the patient with a dose of naloxone—and another ER miracle!—crazed patient number infinity flopped onto the bed. She jumped down and strapped in the patient.

“Thanks, Novotny,” Dr. Foster murmured as she fixed her hair.

Marisol nodded. Since Dr. Foster expressed gratitude, maybe she could use this moment to demand her title and validating CT scans. Don’t forget who saved you from an assault and a malpractice suit, Marisol Novotny, RN.

“You’re my hero,” the detective said as he loosened the killer piece of menswear from his neck.

Marisol shrugged. She wanted to say, “No problem,” but was uncertain if it was true. Especially when the patient chattered like a small train.

Another doctor commandeered the gurney. “We’re taking him up to psych.”

Marisol helped the doctor and the EMT push the gurney to the elevators. She noticed the man in the tie trailed close behind them. Second by second,the patient’s mantra became clearer and louder. “Teeth and teeth and teeth and teeth.”

The EMT shook his head. “The antidote couldn’t wear off that fast.”

The doctor said, “B’Lee. Sometimes they hallucinate when they come down. Regardless, we need to do a blood draw to confirm. Go back to the emergency floor, nurse. We have it from here.”

As Marisol moved to head back to the ER, sandpaper-like fingers dug into her skin. Oh Lord, they were seconds from another code gray with a patient impervious to antidotes. The gurney rattled as the patient pulled against the straps. “Teeth and teeth and teeth and teeth!”

Marisol yanked her hand from the patient’s grip and backed away. “Why is he talking about teeth?” She rubbed the top of her hand because the patient’s touch burned like a brand. The doctor and the EMT’s continued silence fed her worry.

The elevator arrived with a ding! The doctor and EMT pushed the gurney onto it, though the patient’s flailing shook it off a smooth trajectory.

While the doctor entered a code to enter a secure floor, the gurney rattled, frantic and violent. The patient sobbed. “I swatted a fly because he ordered it.”

Marisol wanted those elevator doors to close and drown out his sobs, specifically, when they turned into shrieks. “The teeth! Rows of teeth! The Bloodsucker! He’s coming for me! He’s coming foryou! He’s coming for the whole damn city! The Bloodsucker!”

The doors closed. Marisol could feel herself breathe again, but a sliver of fear lingered right under her ribs. Sure, the patient was crazy, but something about tonight made all of Shadowhaven’s fairy tales become real. She rubbed the hollow spot at her clavicle bone.

Marisol pivoted to walk back to the ER and jumped with a start as the detective wearing his loosened tie stood behind her. His black trench coat billowed in the HVAC breeze.

“What do you think got into him?” he asked.

Marisol’s body shivered, so she hugged herself. “Sounded like the Bloodsucker.” She rubbed her arms and said, “Maybe we should check his blood for parasites.”

The detective chuckled. “That’s Red Romano. Last of the Mob’s bosses. Seeing him wheeled off like that? Almost makes me want to sing ‘Danny Boy.’ Found him tied to a streetlight outside the precinct. It broke my heart to see the big guy stand there and bleed.”

From their brief interactions at court, she hadn’t noticed his voice, a broad working-class accent so gruff that it felt put on. But that strong jawline of his had her wishing she remembered his name. Started with a K? Kelley? Her nerves challenged her to rub the small area just above her sternum raw. “Tied up?” she asked.

“Yeah. This town’s crazy.” The detective straightened, growing taller. He grunted and held his side.

Marisol said, “You’re hurt.”

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