Sharkbait Down Under
Nurse Consuela

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?”

“It’s too early to tell. I’ll be back to check on you soon. Don’t give up hope.” The guard let me out, and I walked back upstairs before I said another word. “I need to talk to the Doc,” I said as I pulled my phone out.

“Not here. Call on your way back.” I left the building, walking a few blocks before I sat on a park bench and called Doctor Cortino. After describing the symptoms, he agreed with my diagnosis. “Under normal circumstances, I’d tell you to bring the patient to the hospital for a confirmatory ultrasound followed by a laparoscopy,” he said.

“Master will never allow that,” I replied.

“I know. The other treatment option for ectopic pregnancy is an injection of methotrexate. There’s a 24-hour Pharmacia near you; I’ll call in the prescription.” He briefed me on dosage and monitoring. “Run the hCG of your blood sample tomorrow at the hospital, then recheck her levels in a week. If the treatment works, the embryo will stop developing and dissolve before it ruptures her Fallopian tube. Monitor her bleeding as well; if she starts hemorrhaging, Master will have to decide if he wants her in the hospital or dead.”

“I’ll monitor her,” I said. “Thank you.”

I walked to the pharmacy, picking up the vial. Once I injected Vicki, this pregnancy would end. I didn’t know much about werewolves, but I knew how much they loved their pups. Vicki would attack me before she let me take her baby away, even knowing it could never grow without killing her.

Vicki and the others were sleeping when I returned to the building. “I need to see the patient again,” I said. The guard nodded and took me downstairs. They woke up when the lights came on. “Stay at the door,” I said.

Going in, I checked her and asked if she had eaten as I directed. While she updated me, I drew up the drug. “What’s that,” she said.

“Vitamins, your blood showed a deficiency,” I lied. I injected Vicki in the shoulder, then walked out. I waited until the cell door closed before I talked again. “Vicki, the news isn’t good. The pain is from an ectopic pregnancy; the cells didn’t make it to your uterus. If we don’t stop the pregnancy, you will rupture your tube and bleed out.”

The blood rushed from her face as my words hit. “My baby?”

“Your baby never had a chance, Vicki. The drug I gave you will stop the cell growth, and hopefully, your body will flush them out. Your friends need to watch you; if you see significant vaginal bleeding or your pain becomes more severe, have the guards call me. You can expect cramping and some bleeding, like a heavy period, in the next few days.”

I left her with her friends, who were trying to comfort her. As I walked up the stairs, I could hear her crying out her loss to her Goddess.

I walked back to my new home, remembering the dreams I’d had of finding a man and raising a family. All my dreams were stolen from me to ensure Master’s blood supply, and I resented the hell out of it.

I just couldn’t do anything about it.

I crossed the street to a cantina, taking a spot at the end of the bar. Vampires didn’t need human food; we could eat it to blend it, but we couldn’t metabolize it. Alcohol, however, worked for vampires as it did for humans. I ordered a tequila and looked up at the news, not wanting to go back to the compound just yet. The bartender brought me the glass, and I tossed it back, enjoying the burn.

I saw pictures of Vicki and the other girls; it was a press conference, and the big news was the five-million-dollar reward for information leading to their return. I memorized the number, running the possibilities through my head. The bartender brought me another tequila, and I raised an eyebrow. “From the gentleman in the booth,” he said.

Looking over, a handsome man in his twenties sat with his friend. What the hell, I thought; a girl has to eat! Tossing the second shot down, I put the glass back on the bar before walking over. His buddy took off, so I slid into the seat across from him.

Two hours later, I was sitting on a couch in his apartment as he snored away in his bed. He’d been a decent lover, and his blood was good. He’d wake up in the morning with a killer hangover and memories of hard sex. I couldn’t use my phone for this; I grabbed his phone off the table and walked into his bedroom. Using his thumbprint to unlock it, I called the number I’d memorized. A man answered the hotline, and I had questions. “The people who hold her are dangerous. How can I make sure they don’t find out I’m the one who told you?”

“We will give you a number, and that is the only way we ever know you,” the man said. “Once the information pans out, call us and give us your number, and we will transfer the reward to your account.”

I thought about it; it was dangerous, and I was dead if my Master read my mind and found out. Still, I was already dead, and I wanted my freedom. “The six girls are in Mexico City, in an underground cell.” I gave him the address and a description of the layout. “Their Master is not there, but three or four of his young are.” I was sure the man on the other end was a werewolf, so he’d understand what I meant by that. “If you see a young Hispanic woman who gives herself up, promise me you won’t kill me.”

“We have to verify your information and make a plan. You should know soon.”

“All right.”

“Thank you, miss. You’re doing the right thing.”

“You need to take him out. Promise me you’ll do that.”

“You can count on it,” the man said. With that, I hung up and headed back to the cells. I’d rather be diligent and stay with my patient than risk Paco would find me at the Coven. I disappeared into the night, praying that I’d done the right thing.

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