The Vampire SEAL Collection, page 51
As I walked into the freezing operating room, I realized that all my worry over the chip and becoming a legal vampire was more about my feelings of losing my humanity than anything else. Was that what the old man in my dreams meant when he said I still had my humanity, but not for long?
While I relaxed a little over this epiphany, it still didn’t overshadow my hatred for needles.
The scent of alcohol hung in the air. Three operating beds were centered in the room. Around each one was an array of machines, rolling stools, cabinets, and a cart housing medical instruments. Completing each station was a large halogen lamp that hung down over each table.
“Jo, over here,” Dr. Vieira called.
I made my way to the middle table as Dr. Vieira and the tall redheaded male vampire arranged several items, which included brightly colored paints and one large bottle of gold-speckled glitter, a small computer chip and a picture of an upside-down cross with a seven-pointed star at the top—the symbol that represented Juno.
I guess Dad presumed that I would say yes to the tattoo.
Once the items were arranged neatly on the cart, Dr. Vieira introduced me to the redhead.
“Jo, meet Corpsman Wheeler. He’ll be inserting the chip and drawing the tattoo.”
“Hi,” I said.
“Pleased to meet you, Jo. You can call me Wheeler.” The man had a face full of freckles.
“So, what kind of first name is Corpsman?” I asked.
“Corpsman is not his first name, honey,” Dad said. “The enlisted medical personnel in the Navy are classified with the title of Hospital Corpsman.”
A familiar face walked up. “How are you, Jo?” Atherton asked. His auburn hair hung loose around his ears and he wasn’t dressed in a black suit today. His outfit was casual, consisting of a pair of blue khakis with a white polo shirt. He looked as though he were on his way to his weekly golf game.
“Good,” was all I said.
“Well, let’s get started. I do have another induction other than Jo and Sam today,” Atherton said.
Another induction? There were others getting the same thing done to them? Good to know Sam and I weren’t the only ones.
“Very well. Here’s how this is going to work,” Wheeler said. “The chip will be placed in your lower back, right side, just above your buttock. I will insert it using this device.” He pointed to a small gun-like instrument. “It will take a second. You will feel a sting, much like a very bad bee sting, but nothing more. Once the chip is in, it will begin to adhere to your tissue. This isn’t like the animal chips that they place in dogs or cats where it’s inserted just under the skin. This chip will become part of you, molding and adapting to your body.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“While this chip has your personal information on it, like your name and other basic info, it will also store your body’s temperature, blood pressure, heart rate, et cetera, and will record them on a constant basis,” Wheeler explained. “This will help in medical emergencies. Not that vampires have very many medical issues. However, there are vampires among us that do.”
“It’s helped us pinpoint some problems with vampires before they’ve occurred, and in others it has helped to identify what went wrong prior to them getting ill. While it is very rare for vampires to get sick, our immune systems are not perfect,” Dr. Vieira added.
Wasn’t that the truth? Sam had been sick, as well as other vamps in the building. Maybe this chip was good for something after all.
“Jo, have you decided where you want your tattoo?” Dr. Vieira asked.
“Yes. Back, right shoulder.”
I glanced at Dad, who was standing next to me, and he smiled. A smiled that said he was proud.
“Very well. Any questions before we get started?” Wheeler asked.
I shook my head.
“Alright. I’ll start with the chip, then do the tattoo. Lay down on your stomach, please, and fold down your pants,” Corpsman Wheeler said.
I folded down the top of yoga pants, and then swung my legs up onto the table, lying on my stomach.
Dr. Vieira washed the area on my lower right side with a solution of alcohol. Then, before I could blink, Wheeler had pressed the gun-like instrument against my skin. True to Wheeler’s word, a sting grabbed me, then it was over.
“That’s it?” I asked, astonished.
“Yep. All done. Next, what do you have under your T-shirt? You’ll have to remove it,” Wheeler instructed.
“No worries. I came prepared,” I said. I was wearing a racer-back sports bra so my shoulder was completely exposed.
As I removed my T-shirt, Dad moved around to the head of the table, grabbed a rolling stool from the bench against the wall, pulled it to him, and sat down. I couldn’t see where Atherton was standing or what he was doing.
“So how’s a tattoo going to stay on my skin if we’re vampires and all? Doesn’t our skin heal quickly?” I asked.
“It does,” said my dad. “What Corpsman Wheeler is using isn’t your ordinary tattoo ink.”
I stared at Dad, waiting for him to elaborate, but he said nothing. He glanced beyond me and shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
“Steven, full disclosure,” Atherton said from behind me. “Every new vampire must learn our ways. You know this.”
I sensed that Dad was hesitant to tell me since he had just learned that I didn’t like needles.
“The ink is muriatic acid-based,” Dad said. “The acid helps to cut through your skin, allowing the ink to penetrate the top layer under the dermis. This is the only way to tattoo a vampire.”
I hadn’t taken chemistry yet, but I still knew that acid was bad news.
“I’m going to start, Jo,” Wheeler said. “I want you to remain still. Any sudden jerks will only make this process harder and longer. Initially, you’ll feel an intense burning sensation. That will die off as I continue inscribing the design into your skin.”
The chip procedure went well. So how painful could this be? At least I wasn’t watching the needle poke me.
Dad tapped my head. “Look at me, sweetie. I’ll talk to you while he’s working.”
I lifted my gaze to Dad.
The tattoo machine started and a humming noise tickled my eardrums. A hand touched my shoulder. I sucked in a breath.
“Okay. Here we go,” Dad said. “Breathe.”
My body vibrated as soon as the needle pricked my skin. Suddenly, an inferno erupted, sending tendrils of searing pain through my body. I threw back my head and wailed. The vampire within came roaring to the surface, my fangs jumping out of my gums.
“Deep breaths, honey, deep breaths,” Dad whispered, holding my hands.
“Don’t move,” Wheeler snapped. “This will not go well. Commander, please, hold her down.”
Dad let go of my hands and grabbed my wrists. “Lay your head down,” he said, scooting closer to the table.
I did as he instructed.
He rested his head against mine. “Now, think of something pleasant. The pain will go away shortly.”
Gritting my teeth, I only succeeded in drawing more blood as my fangs dug into the softer side of my lower lip.
“Breathe,” Dad whispered.
Corpsman Wheeler had resumed the engraving. I didn’t think the pain could get any worse, but it climbed ever higher. My vision started to blur, and not from my eyes shifting. All I could think about was killing the man standing over me and everyone else in the room.
“Relax for a minute, Jo. I need to change needles,” Wheeler explained.
Dad let go of me and moved back. Sweat beaded on my forehead. I was about a second away from passing out. I relaxed the muscles in my body and took in several breaths. I couldn’t wait to see how Sam reacted to all this.
After a couple of minutes, I lifted my head and turned. Dr. Vieira was fanning my shoulder, the coolness of the air providing a little relief from the burn still snaking through me. Wheeler was preparing the tattoo machine, filling it with the gold paint.
“Sweetie, lie down,” Dad said.
“Okay. Last part,” Wheeler announced.
The cool breeze died and my muscles tensed at the sound of Wheeler’s voice. Then the needle pierced my skin. The room spun in an instant. Fire raced through every limb. Pressure built somewhere inside me, creeping along my stomach into my chest. All of sudden, pain stabbed me in the back of my head, as though someone had just driven a nail into my skull.
“Get it off!” I yelled, as I picked up my head. Tears dropped onto the white paper underneath me. Looking down, drops of crimson coated the table.
“Dr. Vieira. Get over here, now,” Dad commanded. “Wheeler, stop what you’re doing.”
“Commander. I still have to—”
“I don’t care if you have another dot to color. Put the fucking needle down.”
“Steven,” Atherton said, walking up to stand beside Dr. Vieira and Dad. “There’s no reason to sw— Oh, shit. What the—?”
“Exactly, Matthew,” Dad confirmed.
“Someone want to tell…me what’s going on? Other than the explosion that’s about to blow off my head from the inside out.” Tears streamed down my face.
Another rivulet of red liquid coated the white paper.
“Her skin. She’s having a reaction to the gold,” Dr. Vieira said.
Darkness clouded the edges of my vision. My heart rate increased, and a million lighted matches pricked my skin from head to toe.
“Well, do something, Damon!” my father snapped.
“Turn her over. Sit her up,” Dr. Vieira instructed.
Wheeler grabbed my legs and Dad grabbed my shoulders, turning my body, and I sat upright.
Dr. Vieira pulled out his stethoscope and pressed it against my chest. Atherton had a wad of paper towels and he placed them over my nose.
“Her heart is racing,” Dr. Vieira said. “I need to get her heart rate down. Steven, please hand me the syringe from that table over there.”
I made eye contact with each vampire surrounding the table. Panic was carved in each expression.
“Are you going to sedate her?” Atherton asked.
“Yea and no. The solution in the syringe is a remedy for cobalt poisoning. And it also has a mild muscle relaxer in it. I’m going to see if it works on whatever is going on inside her. Some vampires have a reaction to the acid. I have yet to see anyone have any reaction to the gold. Then again, this is Steven’s child, so anything is possible,” Dr. Vieira said as if I weren’t even in the room.
Before I could protest or speak, Dr. Vieira inserted the needle into my left arm. Within a few seconds, a warm and fuzzy feeling seeped through my body, as if it were erasing all the fire and pain wreaking havoc inside me.
“Ah, yes. Her skin is clearing up. How do you feel, Jo?” Dad asked.
“It’s not burning anymore, but the pain is still in my head,” I replied. But I don’t want that tattoo needle anywhere near me. No way.”
“Jo, we need to finish,” Dad said. “Damon, can you give her a sedative so she doesn’t tense up?”
“What about my allergic reaction?” I asked.
“You’ll be fine now,” Dr. Vieira said. “I just gave you a healthy dose of prednisone mixed with Neil’s blood. Interesting. I can add gold metal reactions to the list of ailments remedied by this solution.” He turned to his clipboard. “Jo, you probably have enough of it in your system to probably complete the marking process. If not, I will give you another dose.”
“Let’s finish up. I’m only here to witness the chip insertion and I need to be elsewhere in an hour,” Atherton said.
“Roll over, please, Jo,” Wheeler instructed.
My muscles had loosened and the burning sensation abated. I rolled over and Dad sat down in front of me once again. The tattoo machine started humming and then Wheeler resumed carving into my skin. I waited for the pain, the burning sensation—but nothing came. It seemed the solution Dr. Vieira had administered was working.
Before long the sound of the tattoo machine stopped.
“Jo? It’s over. You can get up.” Dad released a sigh.
Yeah. I was relieved too that this small battle was over. However, if the old man in my dream was right about me being forever steeped in battle, this was just the beginning. I had an inkling I was on the precipice of something more, something bigger that would test not only my physical threshold for pain, but my metaphysical limits as well.
12
Sam had tried to get a hold of Ben. In fact, that was the first thing he did after we left the medical facility. He hadn’t had any luck then or since. Dad tried to call Mr. Jackson at school. He, too, struck out, only reaching his voicemail. Sam asked Dad if he could visit Ben now that we were free to be around humans, but Dad wanted him to wait. The Sentinels were deployed on a mission for a few days, and Dad didn’t have the manpower to have anyone accompany Sam to Ben’s house.
I spent the rest of the week in the library, just reading some new novels that had been released. I’d thought the chip would physically bother me, but I could hardly tell it was in me. On the other hand, the tattoo did take a couple of days to stop being sore, even with my vampire healing ability.
After Wheeler was finished, he’d rubbed some type of salve on the tattoo and sent me away with instructions to keep it moist with the salve for a few days. I couldn’t stop looking at it in the mirror every chance I had. It did look neat, how the gold specs outlined the star while the cross was a blue and a red color. Sam’s looked even cooler than mine. His tattoo had a red lightning bolt as the stem of the fancy four that represented the Jupiter symbol. It looked good on him too, especially when he flexed his muscles. Also, the good news for Sam was he hadn’t experienced any allergic reactions like I had, but he didn’t have any gold paint used in his tattoo though.
On Sunday evening, the night before school, while Sam and I were sitting in the family room, Dad walked in carrying two garment bags.
“Why do you have those in your hands again?” I asked.
“I forgot to give these to you earlier in the week,” he said, laying them over the armchair.
“What’s in them?” Sam asked.
“Your uniforms for school tomorrow,” Dad added. “I had them dry cleaned.”
Sam and I did a double take at the same time.
“What the…” Sam rose from the couch.
I couldn’t speak. Uniforms? Was he kidding?
“No, I’m not kidding, sweetie,” Dad replied to my inner thought.
I really wasn’t going to miss Dad during the day. I guess one good thing about school was that I wouldn’t have anyone around to read my mind. The thought excited me—alone with my own thoughts.
I bit one of my nails, waiting to see what the circus costume looked like.
Sam removed a cranberry and navy plaid uniform. “I think this one is yours, sis. I’m not wearing a skirt,” he said.
My jaw dropped.
“So why the uniforms?” Sam asked, pulling out a pair of navy blue pants and a white shirt from the other garment bag.
“Uniforms are an etiquette. It shows politeness. Plus it puts every student on the same playing field. No one is singled out because of what they wear,” Dad said.
I silently laughed. It was never my clothes that spoke to others. I was the outcast of Durfee, the one they called Moonbeam because of my silver eyes—thanks to Blake Turner. Now that I was a vampire with purple streaks through my hair, I suspected I’d probably stand out even more.
I held the plaid skirt and blue sweater in my hands, cringing inside. I hated showing any bare skin. Now I had to show my bony legs. Mmf! I hated school already. I set down the uniform.
“Where are the pants?” I asked, glaring at Dad.
“No pants. All the girls wear skirts,” he said as though I should know this. He really was showing his true age.
“Do all the kids in school wear this crap, Pops?” Sam asked, holding up a plaid jacket I hadn’t seen earlier.
Ignoring Sam’s question, Dad said, “Enough of the uniforms. I was able to speak with Mr. Jackson today.”
Sam and I dropped the uniforms and wasted no time sliding onto the stools at the bar.
Dad stood on the other side of the counter. “Mr. Jackson said Jack Powell has been missing for two weeks. He disappeared shortly after one of the last road games. He doesn’t know what happened. The police are doing everything they can to search places they think he might be, and they’ve been interviewing everyone on the team, including the students at school.”
Sam raked his hands through his hair and let out a deep sigh. “Can I talk with Ben?”
“Use the house phone,” Dad said.
A sharp pain pierced my temples. I narrowed my eyes at Dad.
Why don’t you get your things ready for school?
Sam rose and picked up the receiver on the house phone and dialed.
Jo?
I wasn’t trying to ignore my father. I was glued to my seat, waiting to see if Sam was able to get hold of Ben. Okay. I lied. I did want to hear Ben’s voice. Maybe if I did it would help me decide if there was something more between us. After all, he wasn’t in the room so I couldn’t lust over his blood or his scent. Maybe it was a way to put us on a level playing field between boy and girl, and not boy and vampire.
The line rang five times before someone answered.
“Hello?” Ben said.
“Hey, buddy. It’s Sam. What’s up?”
“Sam?” Ben’s voice sounded surprised.
“Yeah. You know, your best friend.”
Dad moved from the counter to the sink where he was rinsing out empty containers that had accumulated from earlier in the day.
At the sound of Ben’s voice my pulse began to race. I stared at nothing as I listened.
Ben told Sam all about the baseball team and the State Championship game. It was the second year in a row Durfee High had won, bringing home another trophy to be displayed in the school’s award cabinet. Regardless, the trophy wasn’t what had me frozen or the fact they’d won the State Championship. No. It was the huskiness of Ben’s voice and how it sent of tingle to my stomach.
