Page 66 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
As the long-time caretaker of the house leads me away, my body stiffens. My sense of right and wrong rings like an alarm bell. The moment feels off.
Caelian’s not in trusted hands.
My suspicions are all but confirmed once we’re downstairs and Dr. Tulio emerges from the office he has in Caelian’s house.
I duck out of Ms. Poitier’s hold and scramble toward him. “Why are you down here? Why aren’t you upstairs? Caelian couldn’t breathe—he was in intense pain—and you’re down here like nothing bad’s happening!”
“Nevaeh…” Ms. Poitier ticks her tongue.
“Well? Get up there!” I yell, ignoring her.
Dr. Tulio straightens his black-framed lenses and peers at me with a frustrating level of calm. “I would be up there if I were permitted. The doctors he’s with now will be performing the specialized treatment. They’ve come down from Zurich to do so.”
I frown. “But Caelian changed his mind. He decided he no longer wanted that treatment!”
“I’m afraid he’s signed the release—”
“He didn’t want it!” I scream, my frustration bursting out of me. It propels me forward. I sprint down the ground floor hall to more warning calls from Ms. Poitier. Bounding up the stairs two, three steps at a time, I round the corner and shoot straight for Caelian’s bedroom door.
The knob refuses to budge when turned.
Locked.
“OPEN THE DOOR!” I yell, banging fists.
It cracks open a couple inches, one of the stone-faced doctors wedging their face into the gap. “No incessant noises when we are hard at work.”
“Caelian changed his mind about the treatment you’re performing!”
“We have a signed consent form stating he wanted the procedure performed.”
I hop up and down, sliding left to right to sneak a peek into the room, or even better, skirt my way inside. If not for my extensive dance training, I wouldn’t be able to jump high enough with so much ease.
The doctor obstructing my entry might be over six feet easily, but I leap up and steal a look at the bed on the other side of the room.
Caelian’s lying amid a team of doctors. His eyes closed. His skin tingedblue.
He’s not breathing. Whatever they’ve done to him, they’ve made him worse.
Any shred of composure I was clinging to is thrown by the wayside. I lose my cool in every sense of the word.
“Someone needs to give me answers about what’s going on! What are you doing to him?”
“Nevaeh dear, what do you think you’re doing?” Ms. Poitier releases pants of air as she finally catches up from down the hall.
“You need to tell me what’s happening to Caelian. From the moment I got here, you’ve kept me in the dark. I won’t be patronized anymore!”
“Now is not the time, honey.”
“Honey yourself!” I snarl nastily, sounding harsher than I usually would. The situation calls for it. My pulse beats with desperation as I spin around and take the doctor by surprise. I sling my body at him to break through his block on the door.
I’m not a big person and I don’t have much weight to throw around, but the force and suddenness with which I slam into him is enough to catch him off guard. He stumbles several steps back, allowing me to slip into the room.
My heart begins aching at the daunting sight before me. A row of doctors stands on either side of Caelian’s bed in the middle of consulting each other as they poke, prod, practically experiment on him.
As if he’s a lab rat for their study.
My eyes widen in horror, and I scream at them, flocking over to shield him.