Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
"Step aside, please," the male says and practically shoves his way next to me. "I need to examine her."
Furious, I glare in his direction, my claws elongating as he pushes on my control. I want to reach over and snap the presumptuous fool's neck. But when he presses a hand to Melina's brow and then places a finger at the side of her neck, he looks as if he knows what he's doing. Reluctantly, I move back and let him have access to her, hovering nearby. I watch as he pushes a small stick into her mouth and Melina moans a protest, but nothing more.
He pulls out the stick and studies it, then looks up at me. "Fever. She's probably got the flu, just like everyone else here." He shakes the stick with his hand as he gets to his feet. "Bound to happen, I suppose. She's been working non-stop, but of course, we all have—"
"What is flu?" I ask. "How do you fix it?"
"It's influenza," the man says, as if that answers everything. He gestures at the clinic. "The same sickness everyone else here has. It's one that spreads in the colder months and there's not much to be done for it other than wait for the person to get better." He pauses. "Or not."
Or not? He says it so casually, as if my heart is not threatening to leave my chest entirely. "What do you need? More medicine? More soup? More what? Tell me and it shall be done."
The hateful male gives me a pitying look. "If something could be done, don't you think we'd have a lot less people in the clinic right now? The only thing we can do with our limited resources is to try and make them comfortable and provide medicine if temperatures spike too high. Let her rest, keep her hydrated, and if you can find some anti-inflammatory pain meds, that might help with the muscle aches. We ran out of everything yesterday."
"What?" My voice cracks in a sharp, high, panicked note. "How could you run out? Why didn't you save some for yourselves?"
"Because we're trying to save lives?" He gives me a patient look. "My lord, most people come through the flu just fine. It might take a week, but without anti-virals, all we can do is treat the symptoms and make sure that she's tended the best we can. All right?"
I stare at him. "You've used all your medication?"
"It's been a pretty nasty flu season and we didn't have much left."
And yet the clinic is still full and half the staff is out with the same sickness. "How many have you treated for this 'flu' business?"
"We don't keep count. Maybe a hundred have stopped by for advice or medication, maybe more. We've had a few dozen stay overnight or longer."
"How many have died?"
That makes him pause. "Six. But two were weakened because of the insect-related food poisoning, and one was old, and…well, sometimes your body just can't fight things off."
Six. Six?! Six is far too many. I stare down at my poor Melina, so fragile and frail and shivering despite the layers piled atop her. She cannot die.
I won't allow it.
I move to her side, kneeling next to the cot. "Send one of my men in." I take her hand in mine once more, pressing it to my lips.
"She's probably just going to be sleeping—"
I turn on him, snarling. "And what of it? I'm not going to leave her side while she's ill." I bare my teeth at him, wishing I hadn't filed down my fangs. If my claws get any longer, though, I'm going to have issues. "Unless you want me to fling you out of this settlement with my own bare hands, you'll find my soldiers and tell them to come in. We need supplies and they're going to get them."
Melina needs blankets. She needs more soup, as much as she can hold down. She needs pillows and thick, soft clothing. A more comfortable bed. She needs medicine, too. These anti-viral things that her assistant mentioned. I don't care how far out my men have to range, but they're going to go out and find some of these medicines or they shouldn't bother coming back.
I stroke Melina's brow, concerned.
Most humans come through the flu fine, he'd said. Why is it that Melina's sickness cuts me like a knife?
I remain at Melina's side all night and into the next day. I don't sleep because I worry she'll need me, and when the children press on my thoughts, bored and wanting attention, I gently push them back out. I don't have time for them right now. The only thing I have time for is my mate and her needs.
She dozes, waking up long enough to drink a little water and manage a few bites of soup, only to drift off to sleep again. I try to get her to eat more, and help her to the bathroom when she needs to go. She's as weak as a newborn, though, and her shivering seems never-ending. Even with a pile of blankets atop her, she's cold, so I carefully slide onto the cot next to her and pull her against my chest. That helps, but not enough.