“My name is Celia Graves. My mother, Lana Graves, is in prison after multiple DUIs. My gran is living on the Isle of Serenity so that she can visit her. My sister, Ivy, died as a child, and my dad bugged out when we were both little.” I paused, steeling myself to say the part that was still fresh enough to hurt. “My sister’s ghost passed over just the other day.”
“Ah. Good. You remember.” There was a pause before the speaker crackled again and the tinny voice continued, “We need to send someone in to change your IV bags. Are you in control of yourself enough for us to do that?”
I was in restraints. Did she really think it was that much of a problem? Why? What had I done while unconscious? I wanted to know—and at the same time I didn’t. A tight knot was forming in my stomach—pure nerves. I couldn’t have done anything too bad. If I had, I’d be dead. At least that’s what I told myself as I answered, “I’m fine.”
“Very good. Stay very still, please.”
I could do that. At least I told myself I could. But it wasn’t easy. Not at all. As soon as I smelled the faint scents of human flesh with a fresh hint of soap, heard steady footsteps on the linoleum floor of my room, my body tensed, muscles coiling. The predator in me prepared to spring.
I am not a fucking bat. I am not going to be a bat. I clenched my jaw tight enough to hear my teeth grinding and feel my fangs biting into the flesh of my own lip. But I made myself lie still, kept myself under control. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t pretty. But I did it.
The nurse who moved around me was older, thick-bodied, her short dark hair cut in a no-nonsense bob that was in stark contrast to her playful pale blue scrubs patterned with Sylvester stalking Tweety as the little bird quoted his usual line. The woman looked vaguely familiar, and I flogged my memory trying to come up with either her name or a reason why I would recognize her.
“I’m glad you’re awake. We’ve been worried about you.” She smiled down at me as she began switching the plastic fluid bags with practiced ease. “You probably don’t remember me, but I was on duty when you and your friend helped us during the M. Necrose outbreak. The zombie you took down in the hall was coming right at me. If you hadn’t stepped in that day, a lot of people would have died. I probably would’ve been one of them.” Her blue eyes locked on mine, her expression serious. “A lot of the nurses were afraid to come in here with you. But I don’t believe you’re going to attack me. You’re stronger than that. I’ve seen it.”
My eyes filled with tears. “God, I hope so.”
She gave me a reassuring smile before adjusting a knob. Fluid flowed freely through one of the tubes into my arm. As the fluid flowed in, consciousness flowed out.
I slept.
10
“Hello.” I opened my eyes at the sound of Alex’s voice. She was sitting in a chair next to my bed. “Up and at ’em, sleeping beauty. I don’t have all day.”
“Hey, Al.”
“Celia.”
“Not exactly beautiful,” I grumbled as I tried to sit up. Of course I couldn’t, because of the restraints, which I’d forgotten about until they brought me up short.
I was dressed now, if you call a hospital gown dressed. It was better than being buck naked, I suppose. Still, the skimpy gown didn’t do much to ward off the chill, and the room was definitely on the cool side. Funny, I hadn’t noticed that before.
I turned my head toward Alex, who looked tired. She was wearing her usual neatly tailored suit and her makeup was understated and perfect, but I could see the dark circles under her eyes and the slight slump to her shoulders.
“Honey, compared to what you looked like a couple of days ago, you’re freaking gorgeous. Although I have to admit it’s a little odd seeing you without eyebrows or lashes.” She forced herself to smile, and while I didn’t have Adriana’s ring, I caught a flash of thought from her. She’d been worried about me, scared I’d be permanently blinded or hideously scarred. Of course she’d never say that out loud. It would violate the unwritten “tough broad” rules.
“I don’t have any eyebrows?”
“Nope. The skin’s grown back, but the hair’s taking longer. You’ve also got a receding hairline.”
“Oh, hell.” I felt tears sting my eyes. Stupid, I suppose. I was alive and not blind or maimed. I was also myself, in full possession of my memories, and not feeling the least bit like munching on my friend. All of these were good things. But my hair.
“Don’t feel too bad. You can already see little spikes where the hair’s growing back in. You’ll probably look perfectly fine before long.”
“When do you think I’ll be out of here?” I hate hospitals. I know they have a benign purpose, but they make me feel trapped and they smell funny. Mostly I worry that if I’m confined for too long, somebody’s going to come up with a way to keep me confined permanently. It’s not paranoia if there really are people out to get you. Since the vampire bite, I’ve had ample proof that there are lots of people after me.
“I don’t know,” Alex admitted. “They’ve moved you out of the burn unit because you no longer have any open sores, but they want to be sure you’re not a danger to anybody.” She sighed. “You should know there are folks trying to get you declared a monster and put down.”
I started swearing under my breath.
“Not to worry; it isn’t going to happen. You’ve done good in the past and there are lots of people on your side because of that. Bruno’s never farther away than the cafeteria. Your gran’s here, and Queen Lopaka, King Dahlmar, and Queen Adriana have all called regularly. Still, what’s made the most difference is that a bunch of doctors and nurses are on your side. They swear you’re yourself and that you’re going to be fine.” She leaned closer and smiled. “I think so, too.”
Knowing I had support was a huge relief, as was hearing that the medical staff thought I was going to be fine.
I was beyond grateful to the doctors and nurses for speaking up for me. I wasn’t sure I would have if I were in their shoes. I felt better today, much more normal. The bat was there, but in the background. I could control it. But they couldn’t have known that. They’d taken a terrible risk to save me.
“I’ll update you on everything in a minute, but first, I’m here on business. Who did this to you and why? Are you strong enough to work with our sketch artist?”
“There were three males physically present, and another guy via some kind of hologram spell. Two of the ones with me were white, one black.”
She sat up straighter in her chair. I wasn’t surprised. She’s smart enough to put two and two together. Or in this case three and three. Three men had snatched Abigail Andrews off of the street and three had attacked me. Coincidence? Not likely.
“What did they want?”
“To scare me off.”
“Off what?”
“I haven’t got a clue. The only potential client I’ve met with lately is Abigail Andrews. But she didn’t hire me, and like I told you before, she was lying through her teeth the whole time she talked to me.” So whatever that scary man thought I knew, I didn’t.
“All right, we’re going to investigate it thoroughly. There’s a good chance the two incidents are connected, but we’ll keep an open mind just in case they’re not. In the meantime, if you’re willing, I’d like you to work with an artist we’ve got on staff. She’s a telepath—you can just think the images at her and she can draw them.”
“Oh!” I suddenly remembered something else. “I took pictures of them with my cell phone. It’s under the driver’s seat of my car.”