Redemption (The Penton Vampire Legacy) Read Online Free Page B

in front of the double doors of a one-story, midcentury, redbrick building with a sign out front: Penton Medical Clinic. She was surprised. She’d been expecting a small converted house or Quonset hut—this looked more like a hospital, which might even be an omen in Penton’s favor.

    Mark Calvert was one lucky guy. Krys applied the last bandage to his sutured abdomen and checked the CT scan of his headone final time on the wall-mounted light table. Minor concussion. He’d regained consciousness before drifting to sleep, and, as she’d suspected, the cuts were mostly messy. They’d hurt like hell and leave some ugly scars, but his life hadn’t been in jeopardy.
    No one—not even Mark’s wife, Melissa, who turned out to have a year of nursing school and a level head once she’d gotten over the shock of seeing her husband carved like a turkey—had commented on the strange word carved into his flesh. Krys decided to stitch it up and forget it. Not her concern. Her job was to treat his wounds, not figure why someone had turned him into a greeting card with legs.
    She also didn’t comment on Mark’s inner arm full of needle tracks, uncovered when she’d cut off the remains of his shirt. None recent, but at one time the man had had one heck of a drug problem. It might be her concern if she decided to stay here, but it wasn’t now.
    The inside of the Penton Clinic delighted her as much as the outside. Its equipment was state-of-the-art, better than Sumter Regional’s, where she had completed her residency. She could do almost any procedure here. Why would a town this small have such good facilities, she wondered. That, plus the salary they were offering, meant Penton wasn’t nearly as economically depressed as the rest of East Alabama and West Georgia.
    Mark awoke while she was securing the last bandage, cracking open the blue eyes she’d glimpsed earlier. They were still glassy, but somebody was home this time.
    “Where—?” His voice cracked, and Krys filled a plastic cup with water and offered him a sip through a straw. He tried to push himself into a sitting position, but slumped when he couldn’t gather enough strength. Pressing his shoulders onto thebed, she punched the button to elevate his head and stuck the end of the bent straw into his mouth.
    “I’m Dr. Krystal Harris, and you’re at the Penton Clinic. You need to be still, not move around much for a few hours. You’re going to be sore for a few days while you heal, but you’ll fully recover. Do you remember what happened?”
    He blinked at her, face creased in a frown. “You’re already here? Where’s Aidan?” He swallowed hard and gathered his words. “Gotta talk to Aidan.”
    Why the heck would he want to talk to the hospital administrator before he asked for his wife? “Let me get your wife.” Krys opened the door and Melissa Calvert pushed past, followed by Aidan and Mirren, all so focused on Mark that they didn’t give her a second glance. What did they think this was—a block party?
    She assumed her best I’m-a-doctor-and-I’m-in-charge expression, the one she and every other resident had practiced since first-year med school. “Everybody but Melissa—out. Mark needs to rest tonight. You can talk to him tomorrow.”
    They ignored her, so she walked to the opposite side of the bed, glared at Aidan, and raised her voice: “Now.”
    Her brain stalled when he raised his gaze to meet hers. This was the first time she’d gotten a look at him in decent lighting, and it only confirmed her earlier impression. When God was handing out looks, Aidan Murphy had gotten a double dose. Dark hair with a hint of curl, light stubble, and a small scar on one cheek kept him from being too pretty. He’d ditched the black wool coat and wore a navy sweater that accentuated the blue eyes that were narrowing at her above a frown.
    And he shouldn’t be in this room. Her brain finally gave her libido a kick in the butt, and she found her voice.