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Declan didn’t reply to that, which was confirmation enough.
“Declan’s with me,” I said, not liking the tension that had been steadily rising in the room. “Whatever you have to say to me, I’m fine with him hearing it, too.”
“Maybe I’m not fine with that.”
“Let me guess,” Declan said. “You have a problem with dhampyrs.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Yeah.”
The doctor’s narrowed eyes flicked to me. “You know dhampyrs are extremely dangerous to humans, don’t you? Perhaps even more so than vampires.”
I’d heard this song and dance before. I held the gaze of the doctor, whose face had flushed with anger. “Declan’s different.”
“Have you seen the other kind of dhampyr?” he asked sharply.
“Yes.” A chill went down my spine. There were two types of dhampyrs, and Declan was the more human type. The other kind were referred to as monster dhampyrs because of their more monstrous appearance and appetites. They were as mindless as they were ravenous, like large, pale, humanoid piranha—sharp teeth, soulless black eyes, and an overwhelming need to feed.
The stuff of nightmares, actually. I had the sleepless nights to prove it.
I watched Dr. Reynolds, whose attention was now focused on Declan. There was something there that made me uncomfortable—a willingness to believe the worst. This is what Declan had been putting up with all of his life—people jumping to conclusions about what he was, based on half of his DNA.
I’d come face-to-face with several hungry vampires since I was first injected with Nightshade. I easily remembered what it felt like to be bit by one of them—the sharp pain as those razor-sharp teeth cut into my flesh. Just because every one of them who had tasted my blood had died a quick and fiery death didn’t make the thought of getting attacked any more pleasant.
“Declan’s with me,” I said. “And I trust him completely. If you have a problem with that, then we’re going to have to leave.”
After a few more moments, Dr. Reynolds’s unfriendly and tense expression faded and his brow furrowed. “I apologize for my unprofessional behavior.” He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, then cleaned the glasses on his sleeve before putting them back on. “My wife, she—she was killed by a dhampyr. It’s colored my objectivity.”
Immediate empathy surged through me at the thought of anyone facing death at the hands of one of those nightmarish monsters. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
“So am I.” His jaw tensed and his expression shadowed. “This is neither here nor there. I need to take some samples of your blood now so I can study it.”
I rolled up my sleeve without argument, happy for the change of subject, and he set to work. He drew in a sharp breath when he first saw the color of my blood. It wasn’t red. It was more of a dark, very dark, crimson.
“It’s incredible,” he mused aloud.
Seeing it only made it that much more real. I flicked a glance at Declan before returning my attention to the doctor. “What? Incredible that I’m still standing. Still breathing?”
A slight smile played at his lips. “I’d be lying if I said no. Yes, it’s incredible that your body has withstood the poison for so long, especially with visible transformations like this. It’s infused your entire being. If it was developed by regular chemistry, there’s little doubt that you wouldn’t have survived this long. However, parachemistry is different.”
“So you can help her,” Declan said. “For real?”
Declan’s voice was enough to put a crack in Dr. Reynolds’s pleasant expression. He really didn’t like the dhampyr and wasn’t making much of an effort to hide it. “Yes. I’ll use these samples to create a new serum that will release the Nightshade from your cellular makeup.”
“Sounds . . . encouraging?” I said, gripping the edges of the examination table. My heart pounded so hard and fast it was difficult to appear calm.
His expression darkened. “Once we separate the formula from your blood, I think we can cleanse the blood through intensive hemodialysis. Dialysis isn’t normally a painful process, but I should warn you that the separation process likely will be . . . difficult for you.”
The thought of more pain made me cringe. I’d experienced so much pain since first being injected that it had redefined agony for me. This wasn’t something I’d choose if I had any other option. There weren’t any other options.
I hadn’t been expecting a magic, sugarcoated pill to cure me. It would have been nice, but this wasn’t a fairy tale.
I nodded firmly. “Let’s do it.”
“You’ll stay here during your treatment—the floor above us is where my patients stay. It will be quite comfortable for you.”
I assumed that the vampire guinea pigs didn’t get the same first-class treatment. “What do you want in return? I don’t suppose this is covered by health insurance.”
