"She's crashing!"

"Christie, look at me, can you hear me? Christie!"

"C-Section tray, stat! Get the crash cart ready."

"C-section' She's already lost a lot of blood, doctor."

"It may be the baby's only chance."

"Christie!"

"Christie."

"Christie."

The voices rang in Stas' head as he walked away from the hospital. The cool spring breeze blew across the black, inky night. It dried the sweat from his skin and blew the tufts of hair that jutted from his surgical cap. His mind was a whirlwind, going over every last detail of that tragic delivery. Twice, in a matter of days, placentia abruptia. He'd lost two patients and that did not bode well with him at all.

Their stories were eerily the same. Young girls who made their living on the streets. Alcohol, tobacco and drug use were not just a daily thing, but hourly. They were in such emotional pain that the drugs and alcohol were their only escape. They were self medicating. Stas couldn't help but wonder that if these girls knew just what the use of those substances were doing to themselves, or to their unborn children.

As he walked through the night, his hands deep into the pockets of the mauve colored scrubs he wore, a plan started to formulate in his mind. A place where the women of Rhy'din could go to seek medical advice, treatment and education. The new clinic would have it all. From ultrasound machines to rooms laid out to make breast exams more comfortable for the patient.

Luck be have it, when Stas entered the bar that night, the chief of staff at The Riverview Clinic was there. Maranya Valkonan looked a little frazzled by the current altercation that was taking place. Stas approached her and requested an audience with the Chief. She approved and soon both Stas and Maranya were tucked safely into a booth, hidden behind it's privacy curtain.

The curtain was pulled open by a man Stas had never seen before. The stranger had the prominent forehead, wide set eyes, planes for cheeks, full lips and coppery skin that screamed of his Egyptian heritage. There was a fierceness to his hazel eyes that Stas knew was trouble.

"I just wanted to remind you that I await your challenge, and your neck, pretty one." The Egyptian spoke with gaunt lips spread into a wide smile as his head swiveled towards the physician, the sharp point of an elbow braced across a kneecap. "I'm sure there is no problem, no?"

Maranya's response was calm. "For FireStar, I plan to, Anubis. My neck, however, is my own."

Ah, the Egyptian had a name. Anubis. Stas would remember that, for a very long time. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortably, but offered no interruption.

"That's what I wanted. Rather sad that I have to be this provocative these days, but you have beaten me twice. I have my honor to think about." Piercing gaze oscillated towards the doctor once more, sinuous limbs withdrawing from the booth and reorienting themselves towards the bar. "Doctor," He spoke to Stas, "Blonde hair, thin build, large mouth, a brother with similar traits, sounds like a potentially good slave, does it not' Remember that."

Stas had been watching the Egyptian throughout the brief conversation. Frowning, his eyes narrowed slightly at the word "slave." When Anubis slipped out of the booth, Stas slowly turned a questioning gaze upon Maranya.

"He is not happy with my successes in Fists." Her response was short and reserved. Stas could see in her eyes he'd get no further explanation.

"No pay." he said quietly and slowly. Back to the conversation at hand. "The clinic's had enough financial trouble as it is. I'm comfortable with what I earn already." He nodded to her brief explanation of the interruption.

"You'll have to specify that in your contract." The deal was offered with her extended right hand.

"Will do. I trust you'll have it prepared by Monday afternoon?" He extended his hand and shook hers firmly, yet gently.

"Monday morning." She corrected.

"We have a deal." His smile returned and he leaned back against the cushion once again. "How long before ground breaking and such?" And just as Stas was getting comfortable again, the Egyptian's voice travelled across the noisy bar. A two word phrase, a name, caught and held Stas' attention.

"Amelia Drake. She will be my slave, if you ever cross me. Just so you know." A falsely saccharine smile sent to Stas as he turned to regard Tara, his lips pressing against the nape of her neck.

Maranya, unphased by the Egyptian's threat, continued with the conversation. "That depends on when I get the updated plans to my architect. Which should be within the next two weeks, tops. In the meantime, there is some unused space in the East wing you could commandeer until then."

Stas' head snapped as he heard Amelia's name being spoken. His mouth popped open and his eyes narrowed to slits. His jaw tightened and he held up a hand to Maranya. "What did he just say?"

With a shake of her head, Maranya attempted to allay Stas' tension, and warn him at the same time. "It will not happen. Do not cross him."

"Amelia will not be harmed, nor taken." He frowned, unable to stop his stare of the Egyptian.

Maranya reached out to rest her ringed hand on Stas' arm. "She will not. Calm yourself."

When her hand touched his arm, he turned from staring at Anubis to look down at her hand. Slowly he brought his steely gaze back up to Maranya's hazelled eyes. "Who the hell is he to threaten her?"

Maranya spoke softly and comfortingly. "He is someone that you do not cross. I will not let it happen."

Meanwhile, across the bar, Anubis was getting comfortable with Tara. He whispered to her softly, "Why do people insist on irritating me, beautiful one?"Serpentine smile creeping along his aqualine mein as he regarded Stas. "It is entirely up to you."