Chapter 81 The Medical Man
ISLA
The makeshift clinic smells like blood and desperation. Seven wounded wolves from the hunter attack, all needing treatment I can barely provide with our limited supplies.
"Hold still," I tell Marcus. He's got silver poisoning from a bullet wound. The metal fragments are still inside, preventing healing. "This is going to hurt."
"Everything hurts." But he grits his teeth, lets me work.
I'm using tweezers sterilized over a lighter. Not ideal. Not even close to proper medical procedure. But it's what we have.
The door opens. I don't look up. "If you're not bleeding or dying, wait your turn."
"I'm neither." The voice is male, cultured, unfamiliar. "I'm here to help."
I look up.
Human man. Late fifties, distinguished looking. Expensive coat, medical bag in hand. He shouldn't be here. Shouldn't be able to see through the Veil to find this place.
"Who are you?" I keep the tweezers ready. Sharp enough to stab if needed.
"Professor Cornelius Fell. I'm a doctor. Hermetic Order." He shows me credentials. Legitimate medical license, but also symbols I recognize. Mage markings. "I treat supernatural patients. Heard you needed assistance."
"How'd you find us?"
"Word travels. Packless wolves running clinic in the Rookeries, treating the wounded, saving lives." He sets down his medical bag. "I admire the work. Thought I could contribute."
Every instinct screams danger. Humans don't just show up offering help. Especially not mages.
"We're fine," I say.
"You're using tweezers to extract silver fragments. That's not fine." He opens his bag. Proper surgical tools gleam inside. "I have equipment, supplies, even some magical healing options. Let me help."
Marcus grabs my arm. "Isla, I'm dying slowly. Let him try."
I hesitate.
Fell pulls on surgical gloves. "I understand your suspicion. Human doctor appearing to help supernatural creatures. But the Hermetic Order studies magic, including supernatural biology. I've treated dozens of werewolf injuries."
"Why help us?" I demand.
"Because you're doing good work. Because wounded wolves deserve medical care regardless of pack status. Because I'm a doctor and the Hippocratic Oath doesn't exclude supernaturals." He approaches Marcus. "May I?"
Marcus nods.
Fell examines the wound with professional efficiency. "Three silver fragments, deep tissue penetration, early signs of sepsis. You were right to extract them but your tools aren't adequate." He pulls out actual surgical instruments. "This will take twenty minutes. I'll need good light and absolute stillness."
I watch as he works.
He's skilled. Really skilled. The extraction is precise, minimal additional trauma. He removes all three fragments, cleans the wound, applies some kind of paste that smells like herbs and magic.
"Healing poultice," he explains. "Accelerates supernatural recovery, counteracts silver toxicity. He'll be functional in six hours, fully healed in three days."
Marcus's pain visibly eases. The wound starts closing.
"Fuck," Marcus breathes. "That's incredible."
"Basic magical medicine." Fell moves to the next patient. "Who else needs treatment?"
Over the next two hours, he treats all seven wounded wolves. Extracts bullets, sets broken bones, treats burns. His supplies seem endless. His skill is undeniable.
And I don't trust him at all.
"Why are you really here?" I ask when he's finishing the last patient.
"I told you. To help."
"Nobody helps for free. Especially not mages." I block his path to the door. "What's your agenda?"
Fell considers me. "You're right to be suspicious. I do have agenda. The Hermetic Order studies supernatural phenomena. Werewolf biology, transformation mechanics, hybrid genetics. Your community represents unique research opportunity."
There it is.
"You want to study us."
"With permission, yes. Observe transformations, document healing processes, understand pack dynamics among packless wolves." He's honest at least. "In exchange, I provide medical care, supplies, expertise. Mutually beneficial arrangement."
"We're not lab rats."
"I'm not asking you to be. I'm asking for observational research. No invasive procedures, no harmful experiments. Just documentation." He pulls out a contract. "Everything in writing. You maintain full autonomy. I just want to learn."
I read the contract. It's actually reasonable. Observation rights in exchange for medical support. No ownership claims, no forced participation. Either party can terminate anytime.
"I need to discuss this with Callum," I say.
"Of course." Fell leaves the contract. "Think it over. Meanwhile, I'll leave some supplies."
He opens his bag, pulls out boxes of bandages, antibiotics, surgical tools, healing poultices. Thousands of pounds worth of medical supplies.
"Goodwill gesture," he says. "Whether you accept my proposal or not, wounded wolves deserve treatment."
He's walking out when I remember. "Wait. You said hybrid genetics. Why specifically mention that?"
"Because it's fascinating field. Werewolf-human hybrids, werewolf-vampire crosses, any supernatural mixed breeding." His eyes light up with academic interest. "Extremely rare, poorly understood, high mortality rates. Worth studying."
My stomach drops. "We don't have any hybrids here."
"Don't you?" He pulls out a small device. Scans the room. It beeps. "Hybrid life signature. Two floors up, northwest corner. Pregnant female carrying hybrid fetus."
Marian.
"How did you..." I start.
"Magical detection. Hybrids emit distinct signatures." He pockets the device. "I'd very much like to study her case. Monitor the pregnancy, ensure safe delivery, document the development."
"She's not a research subject."
"She's a miracle." Fell's enthusiasm is unsettling. "Hybrid pregnancies fail ninety percent of the time. If she's carrying to term, that's extraordinary. Worth understanding."
"She's a person. A scared, abused person who escaped hell. Not your experiment."
"I understand." He raises his hands. "I won't approach her without permission. But Isla, if that pregnancy is viable, she'll need specialized care. Hybrid births are complicated. Mother and child both at risk. I can help with that."
He's not wrong. Marian's six months along, showing signs of difficult pregnancy. We don't have resources for complicated supernatural birth.
"I'll discuss it with her," I say carefully. "Her choice. Not mine. Not yours."
"Fair." Fell heads for the door. "I'll return in three days. Hopefully with your answer about the research arrangement."
He leaves.
I stand in the clinic, surrounded by his supplies, watching my patients heal faster than they should.
Help that's too convenient. Too perfectly timed. Too generous.
Everything about Professor Fell screams hidden agenda.
But wounded wolves are healing. Marian might get prenatal care. We desperately need medical support.
I climb the stairs to Marian's room.
She's resting, one hand on her swollen belly.
"Isla?" She sits up. "Is something wrong?"
"Maybe." I sit beside her. "There was a doctor here. Human mage. He scanned the building and detected your pregnancy."
Her face goes white. "Detected how?"
"Magical device. Said hybrid fetuses emit distinct signatures." I take her hand. "He wants to study your pregnancy. Monitor it, help with delivery, document everything."
"No." Immediate. Absolute. "I'm not letting mage experiment on my baby."
"He says it's not experiments. Just observation. And he claims he can help with delivery. Hybrid births are dangerous."
"I don't care. Nobody's using my child for research."
I squeeze her hand. "Your choice. Completely. I just wanted you to know the option exists."
"It's not an option." Marian's voice shakes. "I escaped Cormac's pack because they wanted to experiment on my baby. Wanted to study hybrid genetics. I won't trade one monster for another."
Wait.
"Cormac wanted to study your baby?" I ask slowly.
"That's why he didn't force abortion immediately. Wanted to see if hybrid pregnancy could succeed." Marian's crying now. "His pack doctor took blood samples, did scans, monitored everything. When complications started, then they ordered abortion. I ran before they could."
Cormac's experimenting on hybrid pregnancies. Just like he experimented with turning me.
And now Professor Fell shows up offering the exact same interest.
Coincidence?
I don't believe in coincidences.
"Has anyone else asked about your baby?" I press. "Any other doctors, mages, researchers?"
"Just Cormac's people. Why?"
"Because Professor Fell showing up right after you arrive seems suspicious." I stand. "Stay here. Keep the door locked. Don't let anyone in except me or Callum."
"You think he's working with Cormac?"
"I think he's working with someone. And until I know who, you're not safe."
I head downstairs, pull out my phone.
Need to run background check on Professor Cornelius Fell. Find out who he really works for.
But first I need to secure the medical supplies he left. Can't waste resources, even suspicious ones.
The boxes are still where he left them. I'm cataloging contents when I notice something.
Each supply box has a label. Manufacturer, lot number, standard medical coding.
And a small symbol in the corner. Barely visible.
I recognize it from Cormac's pack records. The ones showing his experimental programs.
Hermetic Order symbol.
Professor Fell isn't just interested in hybrid research.
He's part of the organization that's been studying it for years.
The organization Cormac works with.
My phone buzzes. Text from unknown number.
The doctor who visited you works for Hermetic Order. They experiment on supernatural hybrids. Do not trust him. Do not let him near Marian. - A concerned party
I stare at the message.
Someone's watching us. Someone knows about Fell's visit. Someone cares enough to warn me.
But who?
I text back: Who is this?
No response.
I delete the exchange, destroy the phone. Burners are cheap.
Then I gather the medical supplies and hide them in a locked room.
Fell can have his research proposal back.
Marian's not becoming his experiment.
None of us are.