Booked for Kidnapping (Vigilante Magical Librarians Book 2) Read online

  “As long as you aren’t trying to oxygenate your blood outside of actual emergencies, I’ll look the other way. However, I want you to call a mender friend of mine over in Europe for some lessons. And I expect you to take your medications as required.”

  “What do they do?” I asked, aware I’d earn another round of rattling.

  To my surprise, she put the prescription bottle in my purse. “It’s a low dose of anxiety medication, as your fiancé has reported you’re likely suffering from low-grade generalized anxiety. That sort of stress will hamper your ability to heal. The slimy feeling you dislike is from the beta blocker class of medications. Dr. Liegersen confirmed your description of the medication is typical of menders detecting beta blockers. Try one in the morning tomorrow and see how you feel. With this one, you’ll notice a difference right away if it’s going to help you. If you don’t notice a difference or it has side effects that don’t work for you, we can look at other options. Alternatively, you can go to more therapy to address the core problems. Ideally, you’ll do both.”

  “If you feel it’s necessary.”

  “I do, especially after having spoken to Mr. Hampton about some of your general habits, which are fairly stereotypical in those suffering from anxiety. Most of the habits are often ignored, as it doesn’t look like what people associate with anxiety.”

  “Like?”

  “Fixations on certain habits is a good example of an anxiety-driven behavior. Food, for example, is often comforting, so some anxiety patients resist trying new foods. You definitely have a fixation on Chinese. From my understanding of the situation, you have a lot of good associations with Chinese food from when you lived with the Hamptons. Every time you got it, you had won a little victory against the Hampton family routine.”

  Huh. I could readily believe that. “I am going to a business dinner tonight to a eat a food I’ve never tried before. Does that count as my progress for the week?”

  “Absolutely. Leaving your comfort zone without suffering from anxiety over having done so is ideal. And if you do feel anxious over something, let your fiancé know. He’s been talking with a therapist to help his personal problems and get support so he can better help you, too.”

  I had more than a few reasons to fret, although I’d keep her advice in mind. “Okay. So, are you going to cut my foot off this session?” I teased.

  “Get out of my office,” my doctor ordered with a laugh.

  I made it home a little after three, chuckled at the note Bradley had left, which consisted of a playful accusation of abandonment, informing me he’d find some way to consume all of my favorite foods without me. His side note, which involved a curse at milk, turned my chuckles into full-fledged laughter. Satisfied he would be off somewhere for most of the night, probably dealing with his mother’s restrictive diet, I took a bath, got dressed in my best business clothes, and fed Ajani, who accepted my attention without leaving half her fur on my attire.

  Rather than lug the wheelchair around, I opted for the crutches, which would devour space in any vehicle Senator Westonhaus had selected for our venture. I also went through my cane selection, of which I had six of the damned things. Bradley had gotten me two, one with a lion for a handle and another with a dragon for a handle. His mother had gotten me one, which featured a plain silvered knob. The rest came from my co-workers, who were convinced if I didn’t have three extras, ranging from plain and practical to a piece of art that’d likely cost them a fortune, I might not lose them all. After some debate, I decided the dragon would be my best bet.

  I took a purse and a briefcase with a good shoulder strap along for the ride, both of which were a gift from Bradley’s mother for the times I might need to show up in court without embarrassing myself, and I put my new laptop and tablet in it so I could take notes. Since I had no idea how long a dinner meeting might take, I took the chargers for both.

  It never hurt to be prepared.

  Ten minutes before Senator Westonhaus was scheduled to arrive, I hobbled down the stairs, leaned on my crutch, and read a procedural novel with a reputation of being accurate to life rather than a flight of fantasy. While the book wouldn’t be the same as a solid education, I hoped it would offer some hints about how to better run an investigation.

  Unlike my life, the book featured a thief as the antagonist, a little escape from the harsher reality I faced.

  At five sharp, a dark SUV pulled up with its hazard lights on, and an older man I recognized as Senator Westonhaus got out from the driver’s side. “Hello, Janette. I see you got upgraded to crutches?”

  “My doctor thinks I will throw every wheelchair to cross my path down the nearest flight of steps, so she decided it was time to see if I could handle the crutches. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Senator.” I slid my e-reader into my purse and limped over to shake hands with him.

  “The pleasure’s mine.” He opened the front passenger door for me. “There’s plenty of room in the back for your crutches and cane. The restaurant will take us about an hour to get to with traffic. It seems the entire city has decided to go out tonight in addition to normal rush hour. My wife warned me, which is why our reservation is for seven with the option to show a little early if traffic allows, but we’ll have to face perilous perils.”

  Perilous perils? Nowhere in my reading about the senator implied the man had a sense of humor. I made myself laugh at his commentary, got into the SUV, and handed over my crutches and cane before buckling in and putting my purse between my feet.

  Thanks to self-treating the infection, my foot didn’t bother me all that much. What the lack of infection didn’t accomplish, the low dosage of painkiller did.

  Not battling misery during the extended business meeting would make all the difference in the world.

  While Senator Westonhaus didn’t serve New York, he drove like he’d been born in the city, zipping back into traffic without any evidence the ongoing vehicular battle bothered him. Then again, driving such a large SUV, he would win most disputes with the smaller cars, which helped make certain that people paid him some attention when he decided he was merging.

  Rather than scream at him to let me out and run back to my apartment, I focused on my breathing to mask my growing tensions over how he drove.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what did you know about Samantha? You have never been active in politics, so I was quite surprised to hear you were attending one of her rallies.”

  Well, the articles I’d read about the senator hadn’t lied about his direct nature, at least. “I’m not active in politics, but I’d heard about one of the bills she’s co-sponsoring, and I wanted to see what she was about.”

  “Are you in support of this bill?”

  “Not particularly. You know the bill fairly well, so you should understand why it’s less-than-ideal for me if it does pass.”

  “Ah. That bill. I’m surprised you’re aware of it. It hasn’t come to public attention yet.”

  “My future mother-in-law is an attorney, and she follows legislation that might have consequences for her family,” I replied. “She takes such duties seriously. The legislation did change some of my plans regarding my engagement, but she’s satisfied she will have minimal difficulty protecting her family should the bill be passed.”

  “In a way, that is a pity. The armed forces could use a skilled woman like you.”

  “I’m not eligible for the draft even as written, nor would I be a good candidate for working within the military.”

  “Really? Why would you say that?”

  I raised a brow at him. “Well, unless you need someone who does blood-based medical work of the mending variety, I’d do the military zero good on the front lines. While I have some offensive and defensive capabilities, they don’t scale. I can’t just wave my hand and kill people, Senator. Also, I’m to be tested for other talents, as my exsanguination abilities are not behaving in a way expected for someone who isn’t a hybrid.”

  “Ah. Hybridism in magi
c does complicate things. May I inquire what your hybridism is?”

  “Probable mending,” I announced, unable to hide the pride in my voice. “I always wanted to be a nurse, but unfortunately, due to prior legislation, the medical field was robbed of my skills.”

  “Ah. I see.” The man frowned. “Exsanguinators have interest in the medical field?”

  “A significant number of flame elementalists become fire fighters. Why wouldn’t exsanguinators become doctors or nurses if allowed? We’re not drinking the blood for heaven’s sake. We’re not vampires. Sure, I can kill with my talent, but so can a flame elementalist. My abilities are best used in medical capacities. If it’s a bodily fluid, I can work with it, which is part of why my doctor thinks I’m actually a hybrid mender. Yes, I could kill you—but I’d much rather be saving you. My magic doesn’t define me, just like it doesn’t define most. There are menders who use their abilities to kill, but menders are considered to be the angels of society. If not for those unfounded prejudices, I could be an angel, too.”

  “I see I’ve made a few errors in my base judgment.”

  Yep, that was one way to put it. “I work in public service because I want to, and because men like you bar me from doing something else more valuable. You’re so focused on your hate you can’t see the trees in the forest. The things that go bump in the night are usually scarier than the reality. Sure, I can kill with my magic if I want to. So can any elementalist with a forty percent rating. Most talents can kill. Sensors can’t, at least not with their magic, but what’s stopping them from buying a gun and using that instead? People fear what they don’t understand. It just happens I have a very solid understanding of how the body works, and I can use this to save lives. That’s what I’m good at.”

  “Well, you have a reputation. My sources tell me you can spray blood six stories.”

  “Well, yes. I can. I suspect a mender or someone skilled with telekinesis can do similar. Of course, I don’t need help doing that. It was a cow, by the way. I practiced on livestock to give them humane deaths at slaughter while honing my skills. I worked with vets to help heal animals long before I started working on humans. Humans are complicated, but at their heart and soul, they’re not much different from a cow. They just talk in moos. Biologically? There is an astounding number of similarities in human bodies and animal bodies. I mean, at the end of the day, we’re just complicated animals.”

  “While I had expected a lively discussion, as librarians are adept at such things, I hadn’t expected a bitter brew to go with the lively discussion. Then again, I suppose the fault is with me.”

  “How so?”

  “I never bothered to meet an exsanguinator before. I was only viewing the situation through the eyes of society.”

  I put some thought into that. “Yes, that’s normal. That’s what people in large groups do. They make assumptions and stop thinking. A single person can be sane and logical, capable of rational and deliberate thought. Put that same person into a mass group and work the crowd, and they become just like everyone else, caught up in the moment.”

  Senator Westonhaus headed in the general direction of the Hamptons, a trip I’d done a few too many times trying to be everywhere at one time. After I got home from the disaster dinner meeting in progress, I’d have to thank Bradley for being sensible. I’d still visit the range under his parents’ estate, but I appreciated my home turf—and I appreciated his willingness to move into my home turf rather than keep sending me off to where the rich and wealthy tended to play.

  “My wife warned me I shouldn’t debate with a librarian. I lose to her often.”

  “Cites her sources, does she?”

  “She absolutely does, whenever possible, and she picks the sources that best arm her for victory. She even warned me I would be unwise to test you, as you’re a librarian who has, apparently, experience in the medical field.”

  “I would think that was obvious from the work I’ve done.” I laughed outright at the thought of someone with only knowledge and zero practice having accomplished what I had during the shooting. “When it comes to treating trauma patients, experience is critical. You can’t afford to make any mistakes. That’s why I started with animals on route for being butchered. Then I worked with animals who weren’t destined for someone’s dinner plate. Only when I could manage to care for animals did I even think about testing my skills on people. But I learned a lot helping veterinarians treat pets. Nobody wants somebody’s pet to die. Animals are just as complicated as people are, especially when it comes to the relationship of their blood and bodies. Fish are complicated, too. I can work with fish as well, although it’s a little harder because most people just don’t have a solid understanding of how fish work. Fish aren’t considered to be as important as say, a cat or a dog. But they have a nervous system, a brain, and a complicated circulatory system, too.”

  “I didn’t think fish had much in the way of a brain and nervous system.”

  “Most don’t. But when I’m working with a fish, the problems are the same. Don’t ask me why people think fish aren’t complex. They really are.”

  “And yet another insight I will have to chew on later. Before you became a librarian, you were a bodyguard, correct?”

  “Yes, I worked for my fiancé. His mother did not anticipate how good at my job I would be, which hampered her matchmaking ways.”

  “Ah, I see. You were bought specifically to be wed into the family?”

  “No. I agreed to be hired because I have good skills for the family and could serve as a bodyguard in addition to being able to monitor their health and prevent medical problems from becoming significant. It just happened I have good skills and aptitude for protection roles. I’m no longer a bodyguard, nor do I have any aspirations to return to that line of work. I’ll likely continue working as a librarian.”

  “Would you consider changing into the medical field?”

  “Had you asked that question before the accident, I probably would have jumped on the first opportunity to cross my path. Now? I serve an important role to the public as a librarian, and I would not be as comfortable moving to a new field at this point. That ship has sailed for me, Senator Westonhaus. While I could likely overcome the obstacles put in place for exsanguinators at the cost of the public and the healthcare system, I enjoy my current work, which is of equal importance.”

  “That is one of the politest ways I’ve ever heard someone tell me I should go eat my feet, think about what I’ve done, and come back when I’m ready to apologize and make proper amends.”

  I frowned. “You were one of the politicians who put forward bills to bar exsanguinators from working in the medical field?”

  “Yes. It was one of my first bills when I came into office. It seems it is quickly becoming one of my greater regrets.”

  While I heard remorse could change people, I had not truly thought politicians understood what remorse was and how it could change their way of thinking. “Are you thinking about Senator Maybelle?”

  “In part.”

  One day, I might understand society. Then again, did I actually want to understand society? Would I become just as incapable of empathy and compassion with a broader understanding of why people did as they did and believed as they believed? “They just would have picked a different scapegoat. Exsanguinators are low-lying fruit when it comes to scapegoats. Does it involve blood? An exsanguinator probably did it. But we’re surprisingly limited.”

  “Really? How so?”

  “Well, I certainly can’t bust blood through somebody’s skull, that’s for certain. I can make it come out of your nose, your ears, and even your eyes, but the membranes are much thinner, so it’s easier to build up the appropriate amount of pressure. That type of refined work is actually difficult and tiring. It’s not efficient, either.”

  “That had occurred to me. You have changed how people think about exsanguinators. And while you couldn’t save Samantha, one woman is alive because of you. From my un
derstanding of the situation, you became her heart?”

  “Not quite. The aorta, which is one of those really important parts connected to the heart, had been torn open by the bullet. I rerouted the blood in her body so the aorta could be repaired by a mender. I did make certain her blood continued to be oxygenated, but I did that with all the victims. I excel at treating hemorrhaging because I can control every element of blood flow through the body. I’ve helped trauma victims before, and decreased blood flow and a lack of oxygenation tends to kill. I can’t help against things like catastrophic organ failure and damage, but I can stand in for some organs as long as it’s something relating to the blood. If your kidney or liver were to fail, I could keep you alive until your kidney or liver were healed. If your lungs fail, I can help with that, too—I can oxygenate the blood through the airways and take over for the lungs. I can’t help if there are no thin membranes with blood access, though. It’s easiest to work through the lungs—but I can take over for the lungs if necessary.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Yes, I am. Exsanguinators can be the difference between life and death in the emergency room. We excel where menders struggle. If menders could manipulate the blood like we can, there would be many more survivors of trauma, too. We have our limits, but if given the right training, exsanguinators make an excellent member of the ER staff. We’re best in a support role, though, unless we have to run the show.”

  “Like you did with that woman at the rally.”

  “Yeah. I was running that show, although that was due to having to keep several people alive at one time. I was in pretty deep and couldn’t do anything except work with the other victims.”

  “While you were also a victim.”

  I shrugged. “I gave my foot token treatment first. I can’t help them if I bleed out, but it was trivial to mitigate the bleeding and use some magic to route the blood where it needed to go. As far as injuries went, mine was the easiest to deal with. It took a few seconds to make sure I wouldn’t bleed out before I went to work making sure the others survived. Those few seconds could have cost that woman her life, though.”