Vampire for Hire by J.R. Rain

ask me about them, which was a relief.
     
               He was the pediatric infectious disease specialist and just hearing those words alone nearly sent me into hysterics. He did his best to calm me down, emphasizing that many more tests still needed to be done, but as of right now it was too soon to tell what was going on with my son.
     
               For now, they were waiting for the blood test results, which they would have in a few hours. Once the blood tests were in, he would know which tests were needed next.
     
               One step at a time. Detective work, really. Looking for clues, following up on hunches. Following the evidence.
     
               Now I was alone with my son while he slept fitfully, looking so damn tiny in his bed. Just a small mound of dark hair and chubby red cheeks.
     
               Hard as it was to do, I briefly left his side to go outside and make all the phone calls and text messages I needed to make. My sister assured me she would pick up my daughter. My ex-husband never called back. Neither did Kingsley.
     
               Back in my son’s room, I sat on the edge of his bed and held his left hand. The curtains were drawn and the lights were low. We had a room to ourselves, which was just as well, because I couldn’t stop crying. The black halo that surrounded his body seemed to have grown a few millimeters as well. I didn’t know much about the spirit world, but I was certain that I knew what I was seeing.
     
               His soul was leaving.
     
               Or perhaps it was already gone.
     
               No, I thought. I refused to believe that.
     
               He was just sick. Very sick. I am looking at the aura of a sick boy, that is all. A very sick boy. My sick boy.
     
               Shit.
     
               The light particles that flitted through the room, swirling and flashing and illuminating the air, disappeared completely into his aura. My hand, which glowed silverish to my own eyes, seemed to disappear into the blackness, as well. It was as if I had plunged my hand into freshly turned soil.
     
               Graveyard soil.
     
               I sat like that until the blood tests came back, miserable and borderline hysterical. The doctor returned and talked about normocytic anemia and thrombocytosis and blood count. He discussed something called an erythrocyte sedimentation rate and C-reactive protein levels being elevated. None of it sounded good to me. As he spoke, the doctor bit his lip a lot and looked grave and I sensed from him extreme concern and even alarm.
     
               He next ordered liver function tests, an electrocardiogram, an echocardiogram, an ultrasound and a urinalysis.
     
               And while they poked and prodded my son, my ex-husband Danny appeared in the doorway of the hospital room.
     
              
     
              
     
              
     
               Chapter Twenty-four
     

     
              
     
              
     
               He blinked, taking in the scene.
     
               It was quite a scene. Three nurses and two doctors, all swarming around my son, who appeared to doze in and out of sleep. Or in and out of consciousness.
     
               In our separation, Danny had proven to be particularly vindictive and mean-spirited. Unless, of course, you saw things from his point of view. Admittedly, very few people on the face of this earth would ever find themselves in his peculiar position. His once mostly happy household had been turned upside down. His wife of five years (which was how long we had been married prior to my attack) was suddenly not the person he had wed...and for the next six years Danny didn’t handle things very well.
     
               Yes, eleven years of marriage down the drain.
     
               Would it have taken a special man to be strong