Page 6 of Don't Bite the Botanist
The woman must have tracked his apprehension, because she paused her approach and gave him that megawatt smile again. “Not quite,” she said. “I’m actually…” Her words trailed off, and she chewed on her lip for a second.
The action was somewhat adorable, if oddly unprofessional. “Actually what?” he asked, pushing himself up in the bed. It was more difficult than it should have been, and his frustration leaked into his words. “Spit it out. Are you a nurse, then? I have more than a few questions, and I’d like to know if you’re qualified to give me the answers I need.”
The woman frowned, but Ethan could only bring himself to feel a little bad about his brusque tone. He’d been called blunt often enough to realize it wasn’t ever a compliment, but this wasn’t the time to worry about niceties. Because if he wasn’t dead, then he had more important things to worry about.
Itwas still out there.
The monster.
Ethan didn’t believe in flights of fancy or mythological creatures.He believed in things that could be measured, studied, and explained. Every part of his scientific brain told him that thing couldn’t be real. That he was suffering from some kind of trauma-induced hallucination.
But no matter how often he tried to get himself to accept that logic, it just wouldn’t stick. He knew what he saw; it wasn’t the kind of thing you just imagined.
And despite his rational brain’s tendency to go full analytical mode, something about the being he’d encountered demanded he blow past researching its origins and skip straight to figuring out how to kill it. He’d looked into its eyes. There was no soul in that vampire. Nothing redeeming. Just a virus that consumed and destroyed. A virus, like so many others, that needed to be eradicated.
The woman studied him for a moment, and Ethan could practically see the wheels turning in her head. Deciding how much to tell him, probably. It seemed like hospital staff loved to make assumptions about how much truth he could handle. After a long, heavy moment, her expression shifted—a decision made.
“I’m a counselor,” she said, her voice still unnecessarily perky but at least toned down a fraction.
Ethan groaned and slumped back, losing some of his vertical progress. “A counselor? Sorry, ma’am. I’m sure you’re very good at your job, but I don’t need a counselor. I need answers.”
“I can help you with that,” she replied, taking a step closer to the bed.
He eyed her warily. “Shouldn’t I be discussing my situation with a doctor? Or at least the nurse who actually does all the work?”
The woman grabbed a clip from the seat behind her and focused on drawing her hair up into a bun, looking everywhere in the room but at him. “You’re right,” she said once she seemed satisfied that everystrand was tucked away. “You should go over things with a doctor. It’s just… the staff thought perhaps you might need someone to speak with when you woke up, given how things went last time.”
He frowned. “Last time?”
Then it hit him. A split second of lucidity where he recalled images of people in white coats and purple scrubs shouting at him to lay down and breathe. But before that, before the noise and confusion, there had been… her. She had been the angel who pulled him from the dark, if only for a moment.
And he suddenly felt like a massive dick.
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” the woman dismissed. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” he muttered, and his hand absently drifted up to his neck, settling on the patch of ridges that broke up his otherwise smooth skin. A small part of his brain wondered why it felt like a scar instead of a fresh wound, but he was preoccupied with the stunning woman in front of him. “So, what’s your name, anyway? I don’t want to call you Counselor.”
She smiled again, and he couldn’t help but be intrigued by the way the corners of her lips tugged up slowly, almost like she was deciding how big or wide to smile.
“Tressa,” she replied pleasantly, holding out her hand. “And you’re Ethan.”
He shook her hand, flinching slightly when a zap of static electricity lit up his skin. She didn’t seem bothered by his reaction, and he found himself reluctant to let go of her. “Thanks for the reminder,” he said, eventually withdrawing his hand. “Good to know I’m not completely crazy.”
Her grin dropped away. “Why would you say that?”
He settled back onto the pile of pillows. Maybe it was the drugs still coursing through his brain or maybe it was the fact that his ‘give a damn’ died with Jake, but he had no desire to lie to Tressa. Something about her made him think he could tell her anything. Maybe everything.
“Why do I think I’m crazy?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Because I was attacked by a vampire.”
Chapter five
Tressa
