Light-footed and agile, I sprinted through the undergrowth. Feet lifting, muscles pumping, eyes sharp, I weaved through the thick-trunked trees with ease. In my chest, my heart pounded as I listened for pursuit; ready, at any moment, to hear the smooth passage of a vampire or, perhaps, the heavy footfalls of that wild animal.
Chittering and laughter wafted through the trees from ahead and I slowed my footfalls. I listened. No sound of pursuit, no scent of mint. I swallowed on a dry throat.
[Aufero]
The lunar outfit dissipated into a thousand little silvery-white particles, revealing my plainclothes. I continued on, anxious to get home and clear my head. Finally, bursting through the trees, I burst onto the wide, muddy path of a common trail. A short scream to my left signaled that I'd managed to startle a few casual hikers.
Merda! I cursed.
I absorbed the scent-removal glyph and the crisp sensation of magic faded from the skin of my belly. Immediately, I pretended to stumble onto one knee.
"Miss? Miss, are you okay?" A man called and I heard his footsteps squelching as he shuffled close.
"I'm alright," I assured him, though his dark eyes looked almost nauseated with worry. "I escaped from an animal that I think was rabid. It was huge: a bear. We need to clear the area."
He backed away, eyes widening. I saw his wife behind him scoop up their young child so hastily that the little boy's legs flopped about as she tucked him under one arm.
"We'll go to the nature-center," I decided quickly, "I'm not injured. Not that I can tell anyway. I need to go report it."
He nodded, dumbfounded as I pulled my compass from my pocket.
His wife waved a frantic hand at me, "We'll show you, this way! It'll lead us back around. Richard, you too, come on!"
With a hasty thanks, I began jogging that way with them.
Their footfalls were loud and squelching, but I could hear the forest rustling and chirping. Nothing dangerous was in the vicinity to be drawn by the noise. Not anymore.
Whatever Mason said about not feeding from humans was likely some lie. And, regardless, I didn't want them to encounter the creature that startled even a vampire. Not all things that were enemies of vampires were friendly to humans.
The couple headed straight past the center to the parking lot, not stopping in their haste to leave. We'd alerted a few other groups on our way out, shepherding them toward the exit with us. I slowed to a walk, gathering my story together as I breathed deeply.
The nature center employee from earlier, John, was still seated at the front desk; I could see him through the glass doors. He stood, confused, watching the tourists rush to their cars as I entered.
I was succinct, careful to describe a bear species I remembered from the center's information displays earlier and noting it's unusual aggression in particular for my fake-story. A second employee picked up a satellite phone behind the counter. Her voice shook, an octave too high, but she managed to begin relaying information. John quickly smoothed out a paper map on the counter-top for me to point out where I'd been traveling.
"Your hands -! And there's red on your wrists too-" he interrupted suddenly, halting me.
"I must've scraped myself falling," I redirected quickly.
I internally cursed my carelessness. The gaps in my ceremonial battle-garb had allowed for thin smears of cougar-blood to dry on my skin.
"The animal was acting strangely while you were in proximity and you broke skin," he asserted warily, "You ought to head to the hospital. I'd worry about rabies."
"Yes, but I think I can make it back to Homer," I admitted begrudgingly as I tapped on the map, picking a false area. I didn't want them snooping around where either the vampire or unknown creature could be lurking. "I encountered it around here."
"That's off-trail," he noted disapprovingly, circling with a pencil.
"I've learned my lesson."
"You're awfully calm, Miss Luzio," he appraised, voice saturated with an awed yet dry amusement.
"I'm a hunter, sir," I chuckled, shaking my head, "I know animals pretty well. I once almost got run down by an aggressive male elk during rutting season, but this may take the dessert."
Despite myself, I smiled fondly, proud that for once I hadn't needed to tell a lie. I had, in fact, had an ugly encounter with a young male ibex on a hunting trip with Bruno. He'd laughed at me the whole way home as my stomach-wound healed. John chuckled in spite of himself too; a crisp, exasperated sound.
"I'll call the Homer police," he said, "They'll coordinate with the rangers to get your statement. Someone will meet you at the hospital."
"Alright."
I finally removed the two glyphs from my chest and ear, resorbing them into my skin to relax my still jittery nerves. The drive back to Homer seemed much shorter than the ride out had been, but gave me the opportunity to mull a few things over in my mind.
I'd unwittingly stumbled on the silver-eyes hunting ground.
Mason claimed that they didn't feed directly from humans, but then, how were they surviving? Was it an evolutionary adaptation to survive on minimal amounts of human blood and supplement with animal? Where was the human blood coming from?
Then there was the other problem: what was the creature that had come charging in through the woods? It was much faster than a normal wild animal and it had made Mason fearful. Even with my prior wildlife knowledge there weren't many animals that could reach those speeds. The chamois from my homeland could reach speeds of fifty kilometers per hour. But still, I suspected that the animal was coming in at quicker speeds. Unnatural speeds.
And what was its evolutionary excuse? The Alaskan Mountains didn't lend themselves to open terrain where running would be useful. They were swathed in dense, maze-like trees and undergrowth. Perhaps the flatter tundra-like Refuge closer to my properly could excuse the speed, but the rainforested mountains...? What would drive a creature to move so quickly in such an environment-?
My eyes widened and my breath caught in my throat. It was obvious. It was for the same reason that my people had evolved:
To hunt the supernatural.
I narrowed my eyes. The superstitious native tribe near Homer was a good start; they'd even spiked their water supply with vampire-repellent herb.
All too soon, I pulled into the parking lot of the Homer Community Hospital. With a deep breath, I contemplated what to do next. Unfortunately, I'd need some complex magic to remove most traces of abnormality from my body to present with a normal blood-test. It would be painful.
I took a deep breath and removed an empty plastic water bottle from my pack then rooted around for a sharpie. On its external base, I began writing a complex spell, more difficult than a glyph: a magic circle, like the ones tattooed upon my arms.
Black lettering wound its way around the circumference of the bottom in my peoples' ancient language as I wrote, dictating the spell and instructions. Breathing deeply, I sliced a haphazardly placed, but thin cut into my wrist with my pocket knife. I allowed the little splatter to drip and coat my fingertips. Then I smeared it upon the circle and held my wrist over the bottle's mouth. Immediately, the black writing at the bottom shone silver.
And the spell set to work.
Pain flared to life like a deep, aching sear in each of my muscles, each of my joints, and even inside my skull. I gritted my teeth and held the wrist over the open-bottle. Blood dribbled from the cu, and onto my jeans.
But another alien liquid began to emerge in a thin, spindly stream. It traveled from my wrist and into the clear plastic bottle, skimming across the bottom like a viscous syrup. Suppressing a groan, I watched out the windshield for wandering eyes. Rumbling from the road stayed distant. Thankfully, the lot in this area was relatively empty.
Five aching minutes passed as I sat, feeling numbness where the substance leached from my body. Then finally, the last string of clear liquid broke away from my wrist and melted into the little pool in the bottom of the bottle. I capped it and tossed it into the back. My wrist didn't heal, but continued to drip dully onto my jeans. And in the wake of the extraction, it felt as though a veil had settled over my senses and mind. I sighed, irritated by my now entirely human senses, reflexes, and healing. But it was for the best.
I couldn't very well go into a hospital with vampire venom in my system, after all.
~
The hospital staff expected me. My on-edge behavior, as a result of dulled senses, and my bound wrist from the recent detransition, failed to bother them in the slightest as they ushered me into a room. Heart beating quickly, I sniffed desperately at the air to try and differentiate human scents, but my nose was stupid.
"Dr. Warde will be with us very soon," the nurse explained, scribbling down a few things on her chart, "Can we review some basic medical information first?"
I didn't respond. That Dr. Warde? The vampires' hostage?
"Miss Luzio?" the nurse prompted and I jumped.
"S-sorry, what?" I asked, grateful that she hadn't gotten aggravated.
She even had a pitying skew to her brow.
"Full name and date of birth?"
"Oh, right," I rattled out the information.
"Vaccination status?"
I opened my mouth then thought better of it.
"I don't know off the top of my head."
"It's alright. It's not likely that you've had a rabies shot."
"Actually, my family are avid hunters," I explained, jumping into a fib, "And my dad is a careful man. We go out so often in areas where there are bats. I know I'm vaccinated against it."
"I see," she contemplated fretfully, "The doctor will discuss how to proceed, but it is standard for even those who are vaccinated to have renewal after possible exposure. He'll know what to do."
"Okay," I nodded, gripping the crinkly paper of the examination table.
"Any medications?"
"No ma'am."
"Date of your last period?"
"I haven't gotten mine yet."
She furrowed her brows at this, but said nothing. I began to tap my foot. To her credit, she took notes quickly.
"We're going to need to scrub you down and you're going to have to part with those clothes. Alright?"
"Yes, that's fine," I whispered.
The nurses decked out with gloves, holding out red biohazard bags for my clothes as I stripped down in the examination room. One took my keys in gloved hands and trekked out to my car with a bleach solution to examine the situation there.
I wondered if any of the vampires were here watching their poor pet. Each time I was shunted into a new room, whether for a shower, or the next examination room, I tried to scent the air. But my nose was essentially human. I caught nothing.
How awful must it be to be a doctor forced to break oath by compulsion. To deplete hospital resources to feed parasites upon human society.
I gritted my teeth. Dressed in a fresh t-shirt and a pair of thin scrub-pants, hair dripping onto a towel round my neck, I sat in a fresh examination room.
There was a gentle knock at the door. I perked.
"Hello," a soft voice greeted.
A woman with clipped up honey-brown hair and round features edged carefully into the room. She was fluid to my now-human observation. A little too graceful, if I watched closely. My eyes widened.
This wasn't an enslaved human. It was a vampire.
Dr. Warde moved toward the stool and perched upon it, a clipboard snugly within the crook of her arm. I could see how those unaware of the supernatural would accept this creature into their ranks; her mimicked human slowness was accurate enough.
"I heard you had an unfortunate encounter with a bear," the vampire-doctor said.
"Yes."
I couldn't say anything more; my jaw locked.
Her voice was syrupy and, as much as I hated it, I recognized French features: high cheekbones with delicate, expressive eyes. The same sort of features I'd inherited from my own mother. This woman had a classical roundness to her, however.
Well fed, I thought sourly. Not that vampires could gain weight.
I narrowed my eyes at that. A transformation should've made her slimmer. Well, never-mind that for now. She was more mature than the other vampires than I'd encountered, but only as if she'd reached her thirties before vampirization.
"I'm going to do an exam, a blood test, and give you a series of vaccinations. Rabies is nothing to joke around about."
I nodded mutely.
Her brown eyes fixated upon me and I could just barely see the starburst of silver within; no wonder humans hardly noticed. With vision this dull, I wouldn't notice if she'd extended all six of her fangs. She watched my reaction and her brows arched in worry.
"Are you feeling alright? John over at the nature center called ahead, but said you were in good spirits about the situation."
"It's setting in."
"Ah," Dr. Warde nodded, standing and making her way toward me with a set of nitrile gloves already on her hands. I twitched away. She stopped short. "I'm going to hear your heartbeat and check your pupillary response; is that alright?"
Gritting my teeth, I nodded again.
She reached for her stethoscope and set it in her ears, then placed the other end upon my chest. She expertly held the device such that little of her skin touched me, even over my shirt.
"Breathe in," she instructed, "Good, now out."
I let it out in a stream from my nose. I noticed her eyes dilate and suddenly, she searched, eyes roving over my shoulders and legs, trying to find the source of the fresh-blood scent. Fear shot up into my throat and I physically swallowed back the urge to throw-up.
"The nurses mentioned that you were injured; would you show me?"
"My wrist," I stated, not offering it.
She raised her eyebrows, "May I see?"
The hand I offered slowly was a fist.
She shook it gently, patiently, "Relax."
"I can't."
"You can't move your fingers or you're too tense?"
"Too tense."
"Alright, no problem," her bed-side manner was impeccable, but I wasn't placated. I watched her face intently as she unraveled the temporary bandaging, on guard for any twitch, any flare of her nostrils. "Did you have contact with the animal?"
"No. I noticed it coming, took some measures - being loud, appearing big - but it was acting strangely."
She quieted at this, pressing some fresh gauze to the cut to catch blood, "This will need further cleaning and stitches."
I oversaw as she retrieved the necessary supplies from the little cupboards over the sink. Her face was flat as slate. No flaring of her nostrils nor inhalation of my scent over her tongue, just... professionalism.
The blood of my people wasn't something most vampires could ignore. We were carnivorous plants; delicious to smell and taste but deadly to consume. Even some of the oldest vampires had extreme difficulty resisting, but I had to admit, it wasn't impossible to avoid the temptation. Simply torturous.
"How long have you been a doctor?" I asked.
"Quite a while," she laughed, "I knew I wanted to be involved in family practice ever since I was a little girl."
A classic non-answer.
"I want to intern here," I prompted, watching her intently as she broke open the sterile packaging of her materials, "Next year most likely. Do you think that could be possible?"
"It would be more of a shadowing position," she admitted, permitting my change of topics, "But it's important to start somewhere."
I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes. Again, I'd have to humble myself. But, between the two of us, I wondered briefly which had more experience. Well, alleged experience on her part. There was no way she could perform surgeries. If I could distinguish vampiric scent, I'd be able to approximate her age...
The little prick and pull at my wrist aggravated. It had been my intention to re-inject myself the moment I returned home, but that would reactivate my healing, making the stitched-cut disappear within seconds.
Whatever. I'd skip the follow-up. Dr. Warde flicked the rabies vaccine within the syringe, ridding it of bubbles as I inspected the iodine smear around my stitches.
"If they find the bear, kill it, and it's negative for rabies, do I still need to come in for another vaccine?" I asked hopefully.
"Yes," she chuckled and my skin crawled with a strange discomfort: why did she sound so naturally human? It nearly put me at ease. "Testing may take a while, not to mention the risk of a false-negative. We will err on the side of caution."
"Am I free to go now?"
"I, well, yes, but do you have a family member that can support you?"
"My Dad, but he's halfway across the world," I shrugged, "So I come back for a vaccine in three days?"
"Yes - "
"I'll come in after school on Tuesday," I lied firmly.
I moved toward the door as she stood. Twisting my head, I kept her in my periphery. Her brows bowed with concern, lips parting as if to speak when I passed through the doorway. When I reached the counter to check-out, she finally caught up with me, worry etched into the lines of her face.
"Miss Luzio, is there a number I can reach you at to follow up?" she pleaded, her voice dripping with sincerity.
I hated it. It was such a good facade... she had to be old.
"Yes," I stole a post-it and scribbled it down. "Here."
"Thank you. I'll be checking in."
I clenched my teeth, but made for the door.
Stupid, nosy, silver-eyed tick.