The Angel of Death, Part Five: Blood Money
Featuring: Mr. Moody being an ass
Keola sat back on her heels with a sigh. "All right. That's all I need."
"All good?" Mr. Moody asked anxiously. He had been leaning against the wall, watching her intently. At her pronouncement, he straightened up and moved closer to her.
Keola didn't like the man looming over her shoulder. She stood up, peeling off one of her gloves. "All good. If you're careful."
"Hear that, champ?" Mr. Moody grinned, clearly elated at the news. "You're back on the scoreboard."
Angel was very obviously less pleased with either Mr. Moody or Keola herself. He had spent the entire check-up glaring at one or the other. Now, he turned his dark gaze squarely on Mr. Moody.
His eyes were brown again today; Keola had successfully convinced Mr. Moody to keep him off some of the harsher drugs. She hated seeing the unnatural red glow in his eyes. Vampires weren’t supposed to stay in a blood rage for very long; it usually only triggered if they hadn’t eaten in awhile and their body was getting low on fuel. Whatever concoction Mr. Moody used had forced Angel into the unnatural frenzy almost permanently. It was good to see him a little more aware of his surroundings.
Angel’s leg had regrown. It had taken a little longer than Keola had expected, but not long enough to be worried about it. When vampires regenerated a body part, it was without injury. A clean slate. It almost looked like it didn’t belong, the unmarked limb next to the rest of his heavily scarred body. Vampires weren’t supposed to be able to scar, but if they were weak enough, they could. Clearly Angel had been mistreated for a long time. Keola was handling it as much as she could.
“If you can make sure he’s mostly off it whenever he’s not fighting, that’d be best,” she instructed. “The bone should grow back first, but there’s no way to tell if everything inside has come back once the skin’s grown back on, so it could be brittle for awhile.” She reconsidered her own words, quickly adding “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
Mr. Moody didn’t seem to notice her almost-slip. “Good,” he replied, grinning. “I’ve got a hell of a fight planned for this weekend and I’ve had a few folks asking where Angel’s been. People like vampire fights no matter what’s fighting, but at the Colosseum they’re here for my Angel.” He turned to her. “You want a ticket, Doc? You’ve got a standing invitation to any show you want, free of charge.”
Keola held back a shudder at the memory of the single show she had watched. It had felt like watching a Roman gladiator battle, but far more visceral. As far as she knew, gladiators didn’t rip their opponents apart until they were nothing but shreds of meat and muscle. She wondered how poor Marcus was doing, somewhere down in this concrete labyrinth. Had he regenerated all the way yet? Or was he still a pile of parts waiting for his body to stitch them back together?
She wondered if it hurt. At some point the nerves responsible for pain would have been disconnected, right? Could he feel himself growing back together, or was it like waking up in a new body with no awareness before the moment the regrowth finished? She couldn’t decide which answer scared her the most.
Absentmindedly, Keola leaned down to collect her bag. Angel twisted his head around and snapped at her as best he could with the wires holding his jaw. Still, Keola snatched her hand back on instinct.
“Angel!” Mr. Moody barked. He sprang forward, seizing the vampire by the hair and slamming his face against the concrete floor. Angel was chained, but he thrashed anyway, and Keola took a step back.
“Mr. Moody, it’s all right,” she said firmly. “He thought I was going to start again. He’s done being touched. That’s all he was trying to tell me.”
“That ain’t up to him,” Mr. Moody answered, glowering fiercely at his prisoner. But he let go of Angel’s hair. The vampire shook himself, almost exactly like a dog, and gave them each a ferocious glare before he turned his head away. The message was clear. Angel wanted to be left alone.
It struck Keola how clearly he had communicated that. Angel couldn’t speak with his jaws bound the way they were. She wasn’t sure he could even if he hadn’t been wearing the wires; the drugs had been messing with his mind so long that they might have already robbed him of the sense he needed to talk. But he’d figured out a way to tell her “no more” just as clearly as any words.
She collected her bag- carefully- and followed Mr. Moody back to his office to collect her check for the visit. She would never have admitted it, but the newfound financial stability was a relief. Her little clinic had been floundering for so long, and now she had a little raft to keep it afloat.
Mr. Moody signed the check with a flourish and ripped a corner off getting it out of the booklet. “Sure you don’t want a ticket for tomorrow night to go along with it?” he asked.
Keola shook her head. “I can’t tomorrow,” she replied. “But maybe next time.” Maybe never. She still woke up at night smelling vampire blood in her dreams, seeing Angel’s burning red eyes, hearing the screams from the arena.
Mr. Moody handed her the check. “See you next time, Doc,” he said cheerfully. “Hopefully it won’t be anything serious this time.”
“Hopefully next time you decide not to solve your medical problems with a chainsaw,” Keola shot back, much less cheerfully.
“Paid you extra for that visit,” Mr. Moody pointed out as she headed for the door. He had. So far, at least, he’d been excellent about paying Keola on time and the correct amounts.
But it still felt like blood money.
——————————————————————————
Taglist: @i-eat-worlds @softvampirewhump @scoundrelwithboba @rainbowsandwhumperflies @octopus-reactivated @whumperfultime @pigeonwhumps @handsinmotion @starfields08000 @fleur-a-whump @worstcasescenariolullaby @what-if-i-just-did @fabled-whump @ravenqueen21
Masterlist
