River’s shoes squeaked against the white laminate floor as she raced towards the elevator. The silver doors were in sight when a throat cleared behind her.
“Doctor Waterborn.” The nasally voice caused River’s stomach to clench, and she skidded to a stop, briefly closing her eyes.
Damn it all. She’d been so close.
Wishing she possessed the ability to be punctual, River pressed the tablet to her chest, turned around, and opened her eyes.
A stern-faced man who looked like he’d never smiled or laughed a day in his life stood a few feet away from her. He scowled, his beautiful fae features twisting maliciously, and hugged a clipboard to his chest. Pointed ears protruded from his short black hair, and his eyes were dark with scorn. He wore a white lab coat over blue scrubs, his usual attire.
“Good evening, Doctor Collins.” River forced a smile, her stomach plummeting. “How are you?”
Fury flashed through his eyes. “You’re late,” he snapped, a vein pulsing in his jaw.
Gods-damn it.
Doctor Collins had never shown River kindness, but this was a level of rudeness that she had never heard from him. If the sick feeling in her stomach was any sign, this did not bode well.
Her eyes darted around the hallway, but they were alone. There was no one here to save her. Before River could think of a reply that wouldn’t land her in hot water, Doctor Collins yanked a pen out of his lab coat. He jotted something down on his clipboard, the scratching sound awfully similar to nails on a chalkboard.
“Again,” he added, all but growling.
River drew her lip ring through her teeth, forcing herself not to sigh—or worse, talk back. Doctor Collins was in charge of all the surgical residents at Lakewater General, including River. He was her superior and more than capable of making her life a living hell.
For the gods’ sake, the last time River talked back to her boss, he relegated her to a week of cleaning bedpans and swapping IVs.
In an effort to avoid that fate, she dipped her head.
“I’m sorry, sir.” She couldn’t promise that it wouldn’t happen again—fae couldn’t lie. “I’ll be sure to work twice as hard tonight to make up for it.”
She reached for the elevator button, ready to escape this scolding and get to work, but a masculine hand covered it before she could press it.
Her stomach twisted, and she turned around. “Sir?”
She had patients to get to. Why was Doctor Collins keeping her here?
His eyes narrowed, and he sneered. “Since you’ve decided to make a mockery of timekeeping, Doctor Waterborn, your services are required in the ICU tonight.”
Wait. What? That wasn’t right.
Her mouth opened, a retort on the tip of her tongue, when he continued, “Perhaps this change in schedule will help you learn the importance of punctuality.”
River’s ponytail brushed the back of her neck as she shook her head. “But sir, I can’t go to the ICU. I’m scheduled to assist Doctor Illias tonight. We have a surgery.”
She had spent the past month prepping for tonight’s operation. Their patient, Lila Howler, was a thirteen-year-old werewolf from the Northern Region. She had a large tumor on her lungs that would take several hours to remove. The procedure would be tricky, but it was the best treatment option they had.
River had been involved in the Howler case ever since she started at LGH. How could Doctor Collins take her off it now?
Sparks flashed through her boss’s eyes, a reminder of the fire that ran through his veins. River could’ve sworn that the temperature in the hallway increased.
“Not. Anymore,” the fae said through gritted teeth. “Had you been on time, you would be scrubbing in right now. As it is, Doctor Pierce will be taking your spot.”
River inhaled sharply, her magic whirling in her veins. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Alana Pierce. She was a Light Elf from the Western Region, and she’d always been nice to River. By all accounts, she was a good doctor. But this would be a difficult procedure, and River had spent hours prepping. She was ready for it, and now Alana was just going to sub in for her?
The unfairness had bile rising in River’s throat.
“Lila’s parents know me,” she pleaded, widening her eyes and clasping her tablet to her chest. “I’ve done all the prep work and the pre-op appointments. Please let me scrub in.”
“No,” he sneered.