Chapter 98 - 97. Found The Culprit

In the hospital, Connor's doctor in charge had caught up with the two residents. The students had taken her patient to the scanner. She pushed the door as one of them, along with a nurse, were setting up the WIA agent on the table of the CT device. The other resident had already taken his place next to the operator in charge of the scanner.

Fortunately, the man was stable, she hoped he would stay that way and that his internal injuries wouldn't bring any further complications. Now that she knew he was Greg Douglas' partner, she felt tremendous pressure on her shoulders.

This researcher was the doctor who managed to wrap the WIA around his little finger thanks to his research on werewolves. Who would have thought he would be in a relationship with a liaison agent? And considering how the man looked like he was about to break down if she brought him bad news, it wasn't a casual love affair.

She grabbed her tablet to read the patient's chart and skimmed through the information collected by the rescue team. As he was a WIA agent, the team assigned to him was made up entirely of doctors from the Werewolf Intelligence Agency.

As she read Connor's information, she thought about what the man who came with him had said. What was a liaison officer doing on a battlefield?

The man said he was fighting along with the Bloodhood's fighters when strangers attacked him. Then those fighters had to step in because they thought his patient was beating omegas. It makes no sense.

The traditional pack had never had a liaison officer until very recently. His appointment was a small victory for the WIA, which finally had a connection with the most hermetic pack in the Werewolf's world.

She wondered what the WIA would think of this incident when her eyes stopped on the patient's name she hadn't been paying attention to.

Connor Everett. Everett. Why was this name familiar to her? Her hand froze above the tablet as the second resident joined them.

Connor Everett. One of the aces of the WIA. A WIA assassin, assigned exclusively to rogue executions. She knew about him because she had been a resident on the only operation he had during his career despite all the missions he had carried out. And that was at the very beginning of his career five years ago.

This man was a legend on his own. No wonder he ended up on the battlefield. The agent was a war machine. Being a liaison officer was probably not exciting enough for him.

Now the doctor didn't know if she was afraid that something would happen to her patient because he was the partner of a big gun from the WIA or because he was one himself.

She put down the tablet and gently massaged her temples, doing a silent pep talk.

There was no need to stress if she treated him like any other patient. With professionalism and thoroughness, everything would be fine. She was a good doctor, a good surgeon even if she was still in her early forties. As long as she cared about him and not about his status, it shouldn't have any problem.

Pressure was the worst thing for a surgeon. She pulled herself together. The first thing was to locate the hemorrhage.

The beeps of the monitors and the voices of the residents brought her out of her thoughts. Snapshots appeared. She let her students read and analyze the scans of her patient's injuries and listened to their propositions for the operation.

She listened to the residents detailing their plan for the procedure and smiled as she turned to the one who presented the most appropriate one.

"Good job! You who will assist me," she announced, handing her tablet to the lucky winner.

The student clenched his fist in a gesture of victory before turning to his rival with a smug face.

"Send his scans to OR number two right now. Get the patient upstairs and get him ready." She thanked the operator and left the room to get herself ready for the procedure. Time was their enemy in this kind of situation. The patient had already suffered a cardiac arrest. They couldn't waste a single second.

When she walked through the airlock to the sterile area and the OR nurse put on her gloves, Connor was already under anesthesia. His resident had cleared the operating area and was waiting for the first incision that would mark the start of the operation.

She stood close to the patient's body and held out her hand palm up to her nurse who placed a scalpel in her palm.

The noise of the monitors filled the room and only comments, explanations, and questions from the resident were exchanged since the beginning of the operation. They finally reached the moment when she had to ligate the splenic vein responsible for the irrigation of the spleen when she noticed the appearance of the organ supposed to have suffered a trauma.

"What…"

The surgeon asked her assistant to increase the suction to be sure of what she was looking at and her eyes widened.

"Doctor, can you tell me what is this?"

The resident looked up at his professor. She wasn't one to ask rhetorical questions so her question had to be serious. He excused himself and leaned over to look at the section of the abdomen he had exposed for the operation. Silence filled the room.

The student surgeon stood for a moment and looked up helplessly at her professor.

"A perfectly healthy spleen doctor, I see a perfectly healthy spleen."

The organ showed no rupture, there was no more bleeding, how could this be possible? This patient was a man, not a werewolf. She had read his file and was sure of it. So how could the bleeding have stopped on its own? She turned to one of the block nurses.

"Show me the patient's scans, please."

When the nurse turned the screens showing Connor's abdomen her way, the surgeon stared at the images, again and again, to see if she was mistaken. She could easily see the bleeding that had swollen her patient's spleen and threatened his life. Her eyes fell back on the perfectly viable and healthy organ in front of her then she put down the surgical instruments she had in her hands.

"Stitch him up, Doctor. We're done." She walked away and pressed the airlock opening button with her elbow before going out and getting rid of her gloves, protection, and mask.

She left the OR and walked down the hall to the room where the families of the patients were waiting.

In the observatory above the block, a senior resident had risen from her seat to exit as well.

She was the only one who understood what had happened. The only one to have seen the golden light that had enveloped the patient lying on the table. After all, she was a Servant of Talamh. She didn't know who the witch who just cast that spell was, but she was powerful. Very powerful.

________

In the car that had managed to leave Black Moon, Greg was staring straight ahead. He was sitting in the back surrounded by the two female Skinwalkers. The two looked like they wanted to be everywhere else except in this car. One of them looked particularly terrified since she saw the strange sphere their leader had formed with his aura to surround them.

Skinwalkers had never had this kind of power, at least to her knowledge.

Ulicia knew about the dome the bearer of a Moon protection mark could create because it was in her tribe's old writings. However, what Elias had done was different. Moreover, she was sure, their leader didn't bear a Moon protection mark. It hadn't appeared in the tribe for hundreds of years. Another proof that their clan was weakening.

The woman was staring at the back of her mate who was driving the car to take them back to the village. She knew what had prompted him to follow their leader's plan, but everything Elias Crimson had done, everything he had said went against their ancestors' legacy.

The man had trampled on everything that made them Skinwalkers. They had become accomplices in a dreadful crime.

Ulicia glanced sideways at the man sitting next to her who was oddly docile. She noticed his concerned expression and peeked at Elias who was sitting, facing the road and not caring about them.

Her fingers moved nervously as she considered how to save the innocent man who was likely to be executed as soon as his partner would set foot in the village. She was frightened. She was terrified, but she couldn't let such a thing happen either. Ulicia closed her hands into two fists and clenched them in determination.

She glanced at Elias to make sure he was still staring straight ahead and put her hand on their prisoner's knee to get his attention. The gesture snapped Greg out of his thoughts. He turned his head towards her and Ulicia gave him a weak smile. She hoped to convey to him that she was going to help him, but the man just averted his expressionless eyes.

Greg was pale. He was consumed with worry and wanted only one thing, to return to Connor. He needed to be near him. This thought alone completely despaired him. He looked up and saw a sign that said ninety-five miles ahead to leave Black Moon territory.

________

The Servant of Talamh had taken care of the medical staff who were in the operating room from which she had just left the operation. She had altered their memory with a spell so that they would forget what had happened during the agent's operation.

All that remained now was to do the same with the surgeon who had left the OR in a hurry to see the patient's family. It was a real stroke of luck that she came to this operation's observatory.

She was a final year resident in surgery, so a spleen operation, although it was an ablation due to trauma, was nothing extravagant or interesting.

She had come to the observatory because she had patient charts to fill out and that was the only one vacant. She knew it would be quiet.

The sound of the machines was relaxing and with this young professor as the main surgeon, she knew she wouldn't have to fear any complications that would disrupt the course of her administrative work. She hadn't even taken a look at the patient because this operation had no interest in her eyes.

She had only looked up from her tablet when she saw the golden light. When she saw the lunar energy invading the observatory she was in and the block, she knew a witch was near. A Skinwalker.

Was it her aunt? No. Silphie was born as a Servant of Talamh, even though she was powerful, such a spell required to be born with the blessing of the Moon Goddess.

She had looked down at what was happening in the theater and discovered the aura of the man lying on the operating table. A skinwalker. 

Why her? Now, she would have to clean up after that child of the Moon Goddess before this whole situation exposed their power to the world. She was busy!

If she got her hands on this Skinwalker, she was going to give him the back of her mind. She was a resident in her final year. She had better things to do than cover up other people's nonsense.

She sighed and quickened her pace, her tablet wedged between her side and her arm as she walked close to the walls to reach the waiting room. She stopped and looked around.

The surgeon was talking to a tall man with long black hair. Talamh's servant recoiled slightly as she saw the scope of the man's aura. It was impressive. No, overbearing.

While working at Black Moon, she had come across many werewolf patients, but this was the first time she had seen such a big aura. From the shape, the man was a werewolf. An alpha.

The man shook his head vigorously and the surgeon frowned, skeptical, but didn't push it further. She nevertheless asked a few more questions then, took her leave. The Servant of Talamh was about to follow suit when she saw an unusual group stepping into the room.

Two werewolves arrived, one of them, the older was carrying a little girl. Her face was red and swollen as if she had spent a long time crying. Her hands clung tightly to the clothes of the man carrying her and the man's hand stroked gently her back to calm her down. As she watched the little girl something strange made her eyes widen.

The child's aura that had the shape of a wolf cub was now similar to a human child. Talamh's servant frowned.. She had found the witch.