Consuela Mardona’s POV
“Are you sure you don’t mind me leaving early?” Maria, the other dayshift nurse in the blood bank in my unit in the basement of Hospital Angeles Metropolitano in Mexico City, looked at me hopefully.
“Have fun on your date,” I said. “I’ve got nothing waiting for me except soap operas.”
“I owe you,” she replied as she rushed off to the locker room to change. The door closed, and I let out a sigh. Maria was fun to work with, but fun wasn’t the same since Master Vespucci entered my life. He was waiting for me in my apartment after my last day of work before my annual vacation six months ago; I didn’t remember anything after that until I woke up, a powerful thirst for blood in my throat. “You are a vampire now, and you belong to me,” he said.
It took me the whole week to realize how right he was. I couldn’t disobey him, and I couldn’t fight the need to feed. It was worse than any hunger I’d experienced as a child, a primal force that demanded blood to sate it. Vespucci brought forward a victim, and it was like my mind was a spectator to what happened next. My fangs pushed in, my mouth opened, and I fed on the neck of the innocent man until he passed out. Only then did Master Vespucci order me to let him go.
Doctor Cortino, the medical examiner who Vespucci turned decades ago, had given him my name. Master Vespucci had started turning ten humans a week into vampires and needed a more reliable blood supply. In their first few months, the newly turned could be difficult to control while hunting, which is why the Vampire Council strictly limited the numbers of young ones. New vampires were far more likely to drain victims and didn’t have the discipline to stop killing.
Master Vespucci’s solution was to bring the blood to them. In my position at the hospital, I could skim a dozen pints a day out the door. “Expired” blood, off-the-books donors, donors who “failed” testing, or who had disqualifying medical histories all ended up in my lunch cooler at the end of the day.
I now lived on Master Vespucci’s estate, little more than a slave to the centuries-old Vampire Master and the older vampires there.
I finished the cleanup and the admin for the day, then filled my cooler with the blood I’d set aside. Clocking out, I walked out the door and waited for the bus. The bustling city’s smells were almost intolerable with my enhanced senses. I’d fed earlier in the day, so I could resist the need to dine on any of my fellow travelers. It was far easier to find a person in a coma, or at the end of their life, and drink from them.
It took me forty minutes on the bus and ten minutes walking to go from the hospital to my Master’s home. Located in an exclusive neighborhood in Coyoacan, a historic neighborhood near the University, it was an impressive estate. Ex Hacienda de San Pedro Martir sat on almost an acre of land, surrounded by a razor-wire-topped stone wall. The oldest part of the home dated back to 1521, built by a Captain under Spanish conqueror Henan Cortez Pizarro. Since then, owners had expanded it into a two-story mansion with over twenty-two thousand square feet of luxurious living space. The patios and formal gardens were well-tended, and as I walked to the gate, I admired the sculptures.
“Hola, Consuela,” the vampire guard said as he opened the gate for me.
I thanked him and went inside, walking into the library, then waiting for the hidden entrance door to open from the guard downstairs. Master Vespucci had lived on the property since 1982. His men excavated a cave deep underneath the foundation that was nearly as spacious. I walked down the dim stairway, pausing at the bottom. Cameras verified my identity, and with a click, the reinforced door opened towards me. The guard waved at me as I passed, but I didn’t say anything. Paco was one of the older vampires at the complex, almost a century old. He liked to sexually abuse young girls before draining them dry, swearing that virgin blood was like no other.
I went into the storage room and opened the refrigerator door. I sorted the bags by draw date before placing them on the shelves. I couldn’t help but notice how much space there was. No matter how many I brought, I’d never keep up. I walked back out, and Paco stopped me. “Master needs you to double your daily supply.”
“I’m taking a big risk with what I’m taking; doubling it will get me caught,” I said.
In a flash, Paco was out from behind the desk. Before I could react, I was hanging two feet in the air with my back against the wall and his claws digging into my neck. “Then you better not get caught,” he said. “Your medical assistance is needed at the cells. Report to the guards there.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. Going to the small room I shared with another newborn vampire, I grabbed my medical kit and slung it over my shoulder. It took me ten minutes to walk through the dark streets to the office building Vespucci owned, a front for one of his legal businesses. I didn’t have to knock; the guard verified my scent and opened the door. “I heard you needed me?”
“One of the girls isn’t doing well,” he said. “She’s vomited twice, fainted once, is weak, and complaining of pain in her belly.”
“Fever?”
“Her friends say no.”
It could be a lot of things. “Open for me,” I said.
“I’ll go in with you,” he said. “Take me to my patient, please.” We walked to the doorway leading to the basement cells; he opened the door and walked down with me. One of the girls was sitting with the blonde girl, who was clearly in pain
“That won’t be necessary. Even as a youngling, I can defend myself against silvered werewolves. Besides, they need me to help their friend. They won’t risk anything.”
“Fine, but I’ll be watching.” He locked me into the cell with them, then retreated to the gate at the bottom of the stairs.
“I’m here to examine the patient. Please move away, or the guard will come back.”
“Thank you,” the woman said as she got up and joined the others at the small table.
“How do you feel, Vicki,” I asked her. I’d recognized her from the news playing on the television at the hospital. She was a swimsuit model from the United States. With her hair damp with sweat and a grimace on her face, she still made me look like a troll in comparison, even after my vampire makeover.
“Sharp pains, here,” she said as she pointed just below and to the left of her belly button. “I’ve also thrown up a few times, and I passed out once.”
“Let me see,” I said. Nausea and dizziness could be a result of blood loss, but the pain concerned me. She yelped when I pressed on the area over her ovary. “Are you sexually active?”
“Yes,” she said.
“When was your last period?”
“I’m pregnant,” she said tearfully. “Five to six weeks from conception. We can smell it already. I was spotting earlier.”
She was still bleeding slightly, as my nose could sense that. “Let’s confirm you’re pregnant first,” I said. Handing Vicki a cup, I helped her to the toilet to use it. By the time I had her settled in bed, we had our positive result. I finished my exam. “Remain on bed rest for the next three days, no getting up except to go to the bathroom. I’ll talk to the guards about getting you more iron-rich foods and snacks. I want you to eat every two hours or so, as much as you can without throwing it back up. Keep up the juices and water as well; you need to recover blood volume and avoid dehydration.” I packed away a blood sample and some of the urine to run at work, but I was ninety-nine percent sure of what was going on.
It wasn’t good news, especially without access to a hospital. I wouldn’t tell a patient that, though. I was a nurse, and this was beyond me.
“Am I losing my baby?”