Page 75 of Dark Rebel's Reckoning

"It's necessary." Bridget wrote something on her tablet. "We can't allow immortal blood to fall into the hands of humans."

"Is there anything that can give us away?"

Bridget gave her an incredulous look. "Not in a standard blood test, but someone might want to run more than the standard tests, and we can't have that, can we?"

The examination proceeded much as Kyra's and the girls' had, with Bridget explaining each step before taking action. Fenella responded to questions with minimal words, focusing on maintaining control as memories flickered at the edges of her consciousness.

"I need to do the internal exam now. Would you prefer me to walk you through it step by step, or would you rather I work quickly and quietly?"

The consideration in the question and the acknowledgment of her agency nearly undid her.

"Quickly," she managed, her throat tight. "Please."

Bridget nodded. "Deep breath. This will be over soon."

His hands had never been gentle. He'd called it "examination" too, but his eyes had burned with something that had nothing to do with medical interest.

Fenella forced herself to focus on her breathing. In for four counts, hold for four, out for four. A technique she'd learned in a yoga class back home all those years ago, during that brief period when she'd tried to find peace in ashrams and meditation retreats. Before her restlessness had driven her back to the road, to poker tables and bars and the endless search for something she couldn't name.

"Almost done," Bridget assured her, true to her word about keeping the examination brief. "You're doing great."

The praise, simple as it was, lit a small flame of warmth in Fenella's chest. How long had it been since anyone had said something encouraging to her?

"There we go, all finished," Bridget said, stepping back. "You can get dressed now. I'll be in my office right off the waiting room. We can talk there."

"Yes. Thank you," Fenella murmured before escaping to the bathroom.

When she emerged into the waiting room, Kyra and the rest of the gang were gone, and the door to Bridget's office was open.

The room was tiny, with barely enough room for the desk and chairs, but it looked much less threatening than the other spaces in the clinic.

The doctor sat behind the desk and motioned for Fenella to sit. "First things first, I didn't detect a pregnancy, and the urine test was negative. We still need to wait for the blood test to make sure, but I think you can relax. You are not pregnant."

Fenella let out a breath. "That's a relief. What about all the other stuff?"

"As we both expected, your body healed all injuries and probably all the chemical damage as well, but we still need to wait for the blood test results, and some of them take time."

Fenella nodded, having expected nothing less. One of the blessings of immortality was rapid healing.

"Thank you," she said. "What about the fertility drugs? Could they have worked?"

Bridget shook her head. "No. We tried using them to increase our females' fertility, but human fertility medications had no effect on us. Our bodies work differently."

"The fake doctor had no idea what he was doing," Fenella said dryly.

Bridget tucked a strand of flaming red hair behind her ear. "Would you like to talk to someone about the psychological impact of your captivity? We have a clan counselor with whom I can put you in touch."

Fenella stiffened. "I'm fine. I've dealt with worse."

"Have you?" Bridget asked, her tone neutral. "Fifty years of independence, suddenly stripped away. Imprisonment. Violation. Drugging and abuse. These are significant traumas, Fenella, even for someone as resilient as you clearly are."

She'd clawed, bitten, kicked—used every dirty trick she'd learned in back-alley bars across Europe and Asia.

He'd seemed almost impressed before the needle had slid home and darkness had claimed her. The second time, she'd still struggled. By the tenth time, she'd stopped counting, stopped fighting, stopped hoping...

"I survived," Fenella said flatly. "That's what matters."

"Survival is the first step," Bridget agreed. "But healing is the journey that follows. You don't have to do it alone."

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