Adventures of a Vegan Vamp: A Paranormal Cozy Mystery Read Online Free Page B

I-want-to-clean-your-home vibe that this guy was lacking.
    “Ah, is there some issue?” I scooted around on the end of the exam table, trying to decide whether to hop off—and thereby trigger some reaction from the big guy—or to stay seated and wait for Dobrescu to sic her extra-large nurse on me. “You guys never even took a history or anything. Don’t you want to know about my parents’ health, whether I’m taking any medications, that type of thing?”
    I didn’t remember being this chatty when I was nervous…but maybe the chatter would distract them, and I wouldn’t get tackled.
    “We just need to make sure that you’re safe before you leave.” Dr. Dobrescu looked down at her clipboard. “How long ago did you first fall ill?”
    The big guy blocked the door. And now that I looked past the shaved head, I noticed he wasn’t wearing clogs—unlike the rest of the staff—and he wasn’t wearing nurse scrubs. Hm. Not a nurse.
    “Last Tuesday I was fine. I told you that before. So—what?—that was six days ago. You’re a little bit freaking me out right now.” And, of course, a little meant a lot. I glanced at the big guy.
    She shared a look with the man then made a note. “Have you felt any violent urges?”
    “Noooo.”
    Dr. Dobrescu looked up at me like she didn’t buy it.
    “You’re making me very uncomfortable, and I’m considering my exit strategies. I’m all about the flight and not the fight.”
    Dr. Dobrescu scribbled furiously.
    “Ah—you don’t mean violence to myself, do you?”
    The doctor’s head bobbed up. “Have you been feeling a desire to self-harm? Or any suicidal thoughts?”
    The woman looked much too excited about the prospect. I was starting to feel like a lab experiment.
    “Not even a little. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
    She reached into her lab coat and pulled something out. She thrust it at me, and I grabbed it without thinking.
    In my right hand, I held a tube filled with dark red…blood? “Ack!”
    The vial fell from my fingers. It bounced off the edge of the exam table and then shattered on the floor. Bits of glass scattered, and blood seeped around the shards. “Nuts.” I turned to the doctor with a nasty look. “Why would you do that? Couldn’t you tell how much having my blood drawn freaked me out?”
    The doctor had retreated to stand next to Mr. Clean near the door as I’d spoken.
    Before I could worry much about the frantic scribbling and hushed whispers, my stomach rebelled. It started with a gentle roiling sensation when the odor of the blood first hit me. But then the smell filled my nose, overpowering the doctor’s perfume, the disinfectant odor in the room; every other scent faded under the stench of blood.
    And I puked.
    Once my stomach had voided the small amount of liquid it held—I’d chugged bottled water on the drive over—I dry-heaved for a while.
    With nose pinched and hand covering my mouth, I pointed at the blood without looking at it. “Hey, could you get rid of it? Please?” I swallowed, trying not to heave again.
    I hadn’t realized that during all of my heaving the big guy had left. But thankfully he returned now with a mop bucket that exuded a strong chemical odor and began mopping up the mess. He didn’t look very happy about it.
    “Why would you do that?” I asked the doctor with my hand still over my nose and mouth.
    I swallowed and tried not to gag again. The odor was muted but it was still there. I leaned to my left, trying to see past Mr. Clean as he wielded the mop.
    “The blood?” she asked. “It’s part of the test.”
    I gave her an exasperated look. “You didn’t get how squeamish I am when you drew my blood? You really needed to test that?”
    Although that wasn’t entirely true. Usually it was my own blood that made me cringe. And, weirdly, I knew that blood hadn’t been mine. I didn’t linger on how exactly I knew that.
    She looked as annoyed with me as I felt, and she practically