Is that your fault, too?
Ace's words rattled around in Night's head. He was so stunned by them that he couldn't answer.
Into the shocked silence, Ace spoke, voice cracking, "Leave. I don't want you here."
The lump that grew in Night's throat threatened to choke him. Body stiff, he did an about-face and carried himself out through the door, planting himself in the waiting room. His throat eventually opened up, but his heart and spirit went numb.
Jane and Vicktor spent a long time examining and testing Ace's responses. Eventually, Jane came to speak with him. She didn't sugarcoat the diagnosis.
"He's paralyzed from the neck down. No motion and no feeling. It's the worst-case scenario."
Night stood and stepped toward the door, but Jane grabbed his arm. "He doesn't want to see you. I'm so sorry, Night. I can't let you back there."
He blinked, helpless. "But, he's my son."
"I know. Which is why I'm talking to you." She tugged on him gently, and he sat. "There's more. He's running a fever, and we don't know why. He doesn't seem to have an infection anywhere. Vicktor is speculating that he's on the verge of transitioning."
"What? So soon? Lassiter said he had about a year."
A knock on the door jamb got their attention. In the doorway stood Tarra with a Chosen whom Night recognized.
Night's heart skipped a beat at seeing Tarra, but his stomach fluttered when he recognized Jardine. "Jardine. It's been a long time."
Jardine stumbled as her hand flew to her head. Tarra helped stabilize her. "Yes, I can see what you mean about it being painful to remember," she said to Tarra. She took a few moments to gather herself. "Yes, it has been a long time, Night. I am here to help Mehnace."
"So, he is transitioning? Vicktor was right. I'll go and help." Jane hurried off, easing past Tarra and Jardine as she left.
Night stood again and offered the two seats to the Chosen. Jardine took one gratefully, but Tarra shook her head.
"I'm not staying. I just came with Jardine to help her get reacquainted. It can be an unusual experience." She turned to go.
"Wait!" Night took a step toward her. "Don't go. Please? I—I'm sorry."
Tarra sighed. "I know." She walked down the hall toward the elevators. Night stepped into the hall to watch her go.
"You two need to work things out, Night." Jardine encouraged. "She's been miserable."
"Misery doesn't equate to knowing what's good for her. I am not."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I can see why she's also angry. Whether you are or aren't good for her is her decision, not yours."
A flurry of voices down the hall caught their attention. Jardine squeezed past Night and hurried in that direction, leaving Night undecided about what to do. Ace's scream propelled him forward.
When he slipped into a corner of the room, he wasn't sure if Jane and Vicktor deliberately ignored him so that he could stay or if they simply didn't realize he was there. Either way, he was willing to take the opportunity their oversight gave him to witness his son's transition.
"We can't leave that brace on him!" Jane insisted.
"I know." Vicktor began to remove it. "But we need some way to stabilize his head." Vicktor rolled up the sheet that had been on Ace and deftly tucked it around his head and neck. "I think that's the best we can do."
As if a coordinated unit, everyone moved the machines that had supported him, and the room fell into silence. Sweat covered Ace's red skin. Night remembered that it had been much the same with Rhet; skin both clammy and hot to the touch.
"Excuse me," Jardine said from the other free corner of the room. "Allow me to help." She glided to Ace's beside, a center of calm in an impending storm. "Hi, Mehnace. Lassiter has sent me to help."
Ace licked his dry lips. "Thank you." He ran his tongue over his teeth. "My mouth hurts."
Jardine nodded. She accepted the rolling table with a rag and cool water. As she wetted the soft material and wiped Ace's face, she explained. "Yes, your canines will grow, as will your body."
"I—I can't feel my body, but my face is hot. Like I'm in the sun at noon."
"Most experience an aching, burning sensation from the fever. That's why you feel hot."
"Will this fix me?" he asked, his quiet voice loud in an otherwise silent room.
Jardine looked at Vicktor across the bed, one eyebrow raised.
"We don't know, Ace," the male said. "I think it is likely since all the parts are there, so to speak. It's just a matter of them all growing together again and healing."
"Okay." He closed his eyes and grunted. "I feel... something. It's like an itch under my skin."
"That's a good sign," Vicktor encouraged. "As much as you can, let us know how you feel."
Jardine wiped his brow. "When your growth is complete, you will need to feed. It will be instinctual, so you will know what to do. I am here to feed you. You might also have... baser needs. I am here for them as well."
"You're talking about sex, aren't you?" Ace's eyes went wide. "In front of all these people?"
"We can give you some privacy if you want, Ace," Jane said, "but, since you're injured, we'd rather not leave unless you absolutely insist on it."
"Okay. I—" Ace's jaw snapped shut as his body tensed. He scowled, screwing his eyes closed.
"Try to breathe through it, Ace," Jardine guided.
He managed to spit out, "Hurts," before he began to shake.
Everyone took a step back again, except for Jardine. "Just try and let it happen, Ace. Don't fight it."
Ace's boy began to contort, twisting into an unnatural shape.
"You're going to be okay, Ace!" Jardine told him. She took her wrist into her mouth and scored it, opening a vein to hold, dripping, over Ace's mouth. He moaned, and she dropped it further so that he could seal his mouth around it and drink.
Night's hands made fists by his side. He wanted to comfort Ace but was afraid they'd thrown him out, so he stayed put but remained quiet. His stomach dropped when Ace suddenly stilled, his body relaxing into the mattress a little too much.
"Mehnace?" Jardine's eyes widened as she removed her arm. She addressed Vicktor, "He's not feeding."
The two doctors rushed forward, Jane with a penlight to check his dilation response and Vicktor with a stethoscope to check his heartbeat. Neither found what they hoped.
"Shit!" Vicktor climbed on the bed to begin compressions while Jane took over the breathing portion. The tension in the room thickened as they worked. They got no response. Vicktor surged off the bed to grab the crash cart while Jane cut open his hospital johnny. Working with practiced speed, Vicktor attached the pads and leads for the defibrillator, charged the paddles, then shouted, "Clear!"
The shock caused the muscles in Ace's chest to respond, contorting his torso. Jane listened for his heart.
"Nothing."
Vicktor repeated the process. "Clear!"
Night wanted to close his eyes. Is that your fault, too? His heart pounded, and he prayed. He wasn't sure who he was praying to; perhaps it was to anyone who would listen. He wondered where Lassiter was.
"I'm right here," the angel said, appearing beside him.
"Do something!" Night demanded.
"I can't. Sometimes, some things are turning points that must work themselves out as they will." His voice was full of sadness.
Night shut his eyes then, a desperate plea to the Scribe Virgin out of pure habit and desperation, even though he knew she wouldn't answer.
"Clear!" Vicktor shouted again, shocking Ace once more.
"No response, Vicktor," Jane informed.
"Damnit." Vicktor punched the machine off and threw the paddles on the cart beside it. He grabbed a thick syringe with the longest needle Night had ever seen on it from another tray. Vicktor drew up the liquid and, aiming, stabbed the contraption into Ace's chest, pressing the plunger to release the adrenaline into the male's heart.
Night bit back a sob when there was no response. He rushed to his son's side. "Ace! Ace! Don't go! Come back!" He clung to Ace's hand, tugging on it. "Come on, son. Fight!"
Ace gasped a great breath then, and Night sagged. "Thank you, Scribe Virgin," he said, forgetting about Lassiter.
Ace blinked, staring at the ceiling. "What happened?"
Night lifted his hand. "You died."
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Get away from me."
Night took a step back, dropping Ace's hand as the young male drew a sharp breath. Then another. Night was at the door when Ace's body convulsed, and he exhaled sharply. The next inhale was ragged and full of pain. The moan that escaped him grew into a scream, and they heard the first of his bones break.
They watched as Ace's bones elongated and his muscles thickened. Ace screamed against Jardine's wrist but didn't let go. The bed vibrated enough to scoot several inches along the floor.
Everyone stepped back to give him room. They had hope when Ace's hands curled into fists, tight and white-knuckled. When he reached up to grab Jardine's waiting arm to sink his newfound fangs into it, Vicktor was writing furiously.
Ace unlatched abruptly and turned his head to Jardine. "I—"
Jardine smiled and nodded. "It's okay, Ace. I'm trained for this. I am here for what you need."
When it became apparent Ace was referring to the tent in the sheet still draped across his hips, which barely covered it, thank you very much, Vicktor chuckled. He closed the curtain around them and moved closer to the wall to wait.
"I still can't move my legs," Ace whispered to her, his voice raw. "Please?"
A sparkle glinted in Jardine's eyes. "I can handle that," she said with a grin. In a flash to match his urgency, she licked her wound closed and mounted him, straddling his new girth, both in hip and cock, as her robe pooled around them. When she settled onto him with a moan, he hissed and pressed his head into the bed as he grabbed her hips, pulling her down into him.
"Fuck, you feel amazing!"
She rode him, as lost in the moment as he. She knew he was close when she felt him thicken, and she worked him even harder. He needed no instruction to grab her and sink his fangs into the vein at her neck when he spilled into her. She crashed over the edge when he did and cried out her pleasure.
He drank of her, moaning as he did, until he knew he had to let go. He retracted his fangs as gently as he knew how and licked her wounds closed. She collapsed into his chest, he wrapped strong arms around her, and they spent some time coming down. When he stirred, Jardine lifted off slowly, smiling as she did.
"Thank you for taking care of me," he murmured.
She caressed his face, her gentle smile reaching her eyes. "Thank you for the honor." She slipped off the bed, covered Ace with the sheet, and opened the curtain.
Night's breath hitched when he saw his son. Ace hadn't been a short male before the transition. Now, he would be well over six feet and bulky like his sire—a warrior's body.
Ace fumbled with the controls on the bed and began to raise his upper body. His eyes locked onto Night's.
Night raised his hands in surrender. "I'm going. I'm just... really proud of you, Ace. Know that." Then, he did the hardest thing he'd ever done.
He turned and walked away from another son.