Shadow Of The Nightshade

Plans, and Strings.

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'So what's the first thing you're going to do?' I asked the nurse.

'Inject you with vitamin K, stat.' She stabbed me in the arm with a syringe.

I stared at her in bewilderment. 'How in the hell did you load that so fast?'

She waved a couple syringe in my face. 'I have more.'

Carla grinned. 'Apparently, I already knew you had certain genetic disorders and prepared in advance, look.'

Her grin widened as she held up a syringe filled with a red liquid. 'I've got ferrous too. Can you believe that?' She laughed, too excitable for her own good..

I shook my head. 'I honestly don't. How did that happen?'

'I don't know either. It's like I just remembered!'

'Or for some reason you forgot in the first place.' I mused out loud.

Her grin turned solemn. 'Do you think. . .'

I smiled. 'It doesn't matter'

She nodded and beamed at me. 'Yeah, you're right.'

In went the needle, and there I stayed, trying to look calm.

'Are you sure you aren't afraid of needles?' she asked with a teasing grin, 'because I can feel your pulse, and it's erratic. Aren't assassins supposed to be able to control their heartbeat?'

I gave her a shaky smile. This game again.

'I could say the same about you Carla, being a nurse you won't happen to have haemophobia. No, that's impossible, why with you being around blood almost everyday.'  I shot back.

She tensed.

'I mean, then there's no plausible explanation as to why you're a nurse, if you have a fear of blood, and you hate hospitals, unless. . .'

'You don't know anything about me anymore, I've changed.' she said boldly, finishing up the stitches, and grabbing a bandage.

'On the contrary, I know everything about you.' I leaned forward. 'Like how you fiddle with the hem of your sleeve when you are hiding something.'

Our eyes went to her sleeve. Carla clenched the material tightly in her hand.

'That's cheating,' she scoffed as she wrapped my wrist. 'You don't give anything away when you're hiding something.'

'Maybe I do but you're not observant enough to pick it up.'

She glared at me, tightening the gauze around my wrist. I quirked a brow.

'So you are not denying the fact that you have a fear of needles.'

'I don't have a fear of needles.'
I told her.

'No?' She frowned.

'I just have an irrevocable dislike for needles, I can tolerate them, but I would rather not be within a hundred feet of them.'

'Dislike, not hate?' She asked, stepping back.

'I don't think I hate anything.' I answered honestly.

'Oh, why not?'

'Because hating takes too much work, same with grudges, too damn hard, too much effort and very time consuming.'

Carla sighed, not once but twice, then shook her head. 'Thus says the assassin with countless targets on her back.'

'What can I say, it's an occupational hazard.' I shrugged.