Page 99 of Heal Me

“Either drink, or we can give you fluids intravenously. Your choice,” Tom says.

I move my lips to the straw, envisioning their downfall.

Allie moves the water away, and Tom grabs a light, holding it close to my right eye. Now’s my chance; I rear back and headbutt him with all my might. My face jams into the light before making contact with his nose, and damn, that hurt, but not as much as it hurt him.

“Fuck,” he cries, falling back, his nose spraying blood everywhere.

Lisha and Allie descend upon him like a pack of ravenous dogs; shoving his hand out of the way, they begin to lap at his blood. “Gahh, you still taste like shit,” Allie says, puckering her lips, her twin with the exact same expression.

“You’re planning on drinking my blood?” I ask, my face ashen. Looking down at the nearly faded scar on my forearm, I remember when Brad Cunningham tried drinking my blood, but he quickly realized he was solely an energy vampire. But these people really think they’re blood-sucking vampires.

Tom pulls out a pair of panties from his pocket and uses them to pinch his nose to stem the bleeding. My eyes go wide, recognizing those panties. “You went through the trash in the ladies’ bathroom at the convention center and took my panties?” I cry, my voice raising several octaves.

“I tasted a sample in Boston and knew you were special. Your blood’s unlike anything I’ve experienced. And when I found out you were golden blood?” He groans, as if he can taste my blood on his tongue right now. “It was all I could do to keep my seat while I watched your golden nectar flow into that bag. I wanted to jump up, rip the needle out of your arm, and mainline it.” He closes his eyes for a moment, as if the memory is just too much for him.

“The jelly on your mouth after the surgery; that wasn’t from a donut,” I say, it all starting to make sense. Insane sense, but sense.

“A little post-op appetizer,” he says, opening his eyes. “Not my type, but I needed the hit.”

“And you were the one who stole the pint of blood off the surgical floor,” I guess, feeling like I’m going to throw up.

“I scanned your badge so you’d take the fall, and Meg was able to grab a pint without getting caught.” He nods over to Meg, the phlebotomist I shadowed at the hospital, who’s now standing in the doorway. “I didn’t anticipate you walking in on me and Jen in the break room, though, and so I had to side with you in Janice’s office.”

“I’m sorry,” Meg says quietly as she approaches me, “but Dr. Cooper needed the fix.” She rolls over a surgical tray with a phlebotomy kit used to draw blood, and my heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest. “I did warn you to be careful around him,” she tells me quietly as she begins opening her instruments from their sterile packaging.

“Please let me go, and I promise to get you help,” I plead with them.

“We’re sanguinarians. We don’t need help. We need blood,” Allie says like I’ve offended her.

“Then go to the butcher shop!”

“Gross,” Lisha says, turning up her nose.

“Lisha was our supplier, but she got fired for pilfering a biohazard box.” Tom cuts her a look.

“Don’t blame me! I told you I was being watched by my boss,” Lisha snaps as she points at Tom.

“It’s all going to the incinerator anyway. Such a waste,” Allie moans.

“Without our main supply, we had to start relying on donors,” Tom says.

“Great, so find a willing donor and let me go,” I plead.

“Finding the right type, getting them to sign NDAs due to my status—it’s a pain,” Tom shakes his head, still holding my panties to his nose.

“I tried to get William to engage in a little blood play to see if he might be game. He nearly passed out at the suggestion.” Allie rolls her eyes. “I would have kicked him to the curb months ago, but he’s just my type,” she says, licking her lips.

“You steal his blood without him knowing it?” That’s why he had the bandage on his neck at graduation. It wasn’t Allie’s demon dog, it was her!

“I taste a little sip here and there,” she says, picking at her red nail polish. “But after we got a little whiff of you, golden girl, at the donation center, I risked being fired to steal your blood. We feasted until we were drunk,” she says wistfully.

“And now you’re going to give us every last drop of that golden nectar,” Lisha says with glee.

“In due time, Lisha. Anticipation is the best appetizer,” Tom chastises, and my foot twitches, in anticipation of kicking him in the balls. He lowers my panties from his nose, which appears to have stopped bleeding.

Sticking his hand in his pocket, he pulls something out and brings it to his mouth. He smiles, and it’s terrifying—his face is covered in blood, and two vampire-like canine teeth gleam under the harsh fluorescent lights. “What the hell?” I gasp.

“Custom-made vampire crowns,” Tom says, snapping his teeth together.

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