The Death Thief

First Life

In that moment, I couldn't explain things away. Maybe Calista had been knocked out cold and suffered a head wound from Bungee that was simply that, a wound, nothing fatal. Maybe the Antonov children were sick with a genetic disorder. Maybe those people in the field were a gang mixed up with some bad drugs. I couldn't however explain away a man floating in front of me. A projection, maybe? But how did he glide over to a tea cart and retrieve a glass of water for me to sip. A glass of water that felt very real inside my hand. A glass of water that shattered just as it should when it fell from my shaking grip.

"Oh dear," muttered Spencer. "I think she may be going into shock."

"She's shocked, but not in the medical condition sense," said Gregory, who grabbed one of my arms and wrapped it over his shoulder so I could balance my weight upon him. "Come on Del, let's get you to the laundry room and I can get you bandaged up."

"Oh dear," sighed the ghost again as Gregory pulled me along to a back hallway. "What a mess, I really must give all the guests coupons for the midnight buffet after this."

"Are you a human?" I asked, my words raspy whispers upon my sore throat.

"Yes, for now," he replied with a handsome twist of his lips and a coy glint in his eyes. Some heat rushed to my cheeks, but I knew they had to be too ruddy with dirt and exhaustion to tattle my blush.

We reached a room in a back corner of the grand building and he nudged the door open, still maintaining a hold on me and his medical kit. Once inside, I saw a stool calling my name, but Gregory kept me aloft.

"I'll need you to take off your jeans and shirt."

"P-pardon?" I stuttered. After ever only having a few uneventful dates throughout my years, the amount of rather intimate attention I was getting that night was about as terrifying as seeing Spencer float.

"I won't be able to properly dress your wounds with your clothes in the way." He turned to the wall, putting his kit on top of a washer, which he opened and began rummaging through. "Don't worry, you can keep your underwear on, think of it like wearing a bikini." As if I ever felt comfortable wearing one of those. "And honestly I don't pay attention once I'm in doctor mode. I won't even notice anything above or below the wounds. I was a well respected doctor in my first life and I plan to uphold those ethics into my second life."

"First life?"

"I'll tell you more," he said, looking at me from over his shoulder with a smirk that sent a new wave of fiery color to my cheeks, "but only if you let me do my job and tend to those wounds."

I gave him a little nod. Whatever embarrassment I may have felt, I couldn't very well continue on with the wounds as they were. I felt certain my leg had long ago clotted as they were just puncture wounds, but my side was a different story. With pressure from my hand and a bit of my remaining shirt, I created a temporary bandage, but the moment I removed my clothes, I knew the blood would once again flow freely.

I cringed as the shirt peeled from my side and a squeak of pain managed to break past my throat.

"That's a nasty one," he said, turning around with a syringe, bandages, cotton swabs, and bottles of what I assumed to be some sort of antibiotic. "I'm going to start by giving you a shot of vitamin K. Vampire venom has an anticoagulant quality to it to make it easier for them to draw out blood. The vitamin K will combat that."

I gave him a nod before turning away as he pricked my arm with the thin needle. After the slight burn of the syringe's contents spreading through me, I turned back to find him disposing of the needle and retrieving a squirt bottle.