Blood and Buttercups (A Vampire’s Guide to Gardening #1)

Chapter 8

8

“Hi, Piper, this is Rhianna at Middleton Family Physicians. We have the results from your bloodwork. Dr. Granger would like you to come in this afternoon. Will you be free?”

I plop my butt down in the middle of a zinnia bed, holding my phone with my shoulder and pulling off my other gardening glove. The sun beats down on me, too hot for June. It feels like late July. Or maybe I’m about to die of heatstroke because I’m working in long sleeves and a giant hat.

“What time?” I ask.

“Three-fifteen.”

I pull my phone back to look at the screen. That’s in less than an hour.

Glancing down at my filthy jeans, I say, “Yeah, I can come in.”

“Great, we’ll see you then.”

I hang up with a sigh and push myself to my feet, brushing the topsoil off my clothes.

Thirty minutes later, wearing new jeans and a clean T-shirt, I hurry to my car. I arrive at the doctor’s office three minutes late. After losing the fight with an old woman in a boat-sized sedan for a nearby spot and having to park out in the south forty, I jog the entire way inside.

“Hi,” I say breathlessly when I reach the receptionist. “I have an appointment with Dr. Granger at three-fifteen.”

“You must be Piper,” the woman says kindly. “Have a seat. We’ll be with you in a moment.”

Before I can sit down, the door opens, and a nurse calls my name. Nervously, I follow her to the scale in the hallway.

“Oh good,” she says. “You’ve gained back a few pounds.”

I guess that’s good. To be honest, losing a little extra was the only perk to this whole ordeal.

The nurse takes my temperature and blood pressure, makes a note of them in the computer, and then tells me the doctor will be with me shortly.

I stare at the wall, growing more anxious with each passing minute.

Dr. Granger knocks twice and then walks into the room. “Hi, Piper. How are you?”

“Fine.” I force a smile. “Nervous.”

“Well, I have good news and bad news for you today.”

Seriously? We’re going to start like that?

“What’s the good news?” I ask hesitantly.

“What you have is easily managed. The bad news is that it’s something you’ll be dealing with for the rest of your life.”

“What is it?”

Dr. Granger wheels over her stool and sits beside me, settling in for a chat—which doesn’t seem like a good sign.

“Piper, you’ve been infected with Vampiria B. It’s a virus that alters a few of your body processes. You’ll have to go on a special diet.”

“I’m sorry—Vampiria B?”

The doctor nods. “It’s as it sounds. You were bitten by someone in the final stage of the vampire disease, and that’s how you contracted the illness.”

I blink at her, a giddy laugh rising in my chest. She patiently waits for me to come to terms with what she said.

“You can’t be serious,” I finally blurt out.

“We don’t see it all that often, but you’re not my first case.”

“Are you telling me I’m a vampire ?” I demand, lowering my voice to a heated whisper.

“No, you’re not a vampire. The virus needs to be introduced into your system on at least three separate occasions before you become what we would call a final stage vampire—think of it like a series of vaccinations. Except, instead of warding off an illness, Vampiria B wards off death. You’re in a stage that we call pre-vampiric.”

I blink at her, trying to process all that. “Wards off what now?”

She smiles sympathetically. “I know this is a lot. Think of it this way: Vampiria B is a virus that alters your body’s processes. Each time more enters your system, the more you’re altered. If enough is introduced, you fully change.”

“You mean…I die? Living dead? Undead? Whatever they’re called?”

“No, that’s a fable. Vampires are very much alive. They just don’t die of natural causes. Their bodies are no longer susceptible to disease, illness, or cancer. Nor do they age.”

“All right…” I clear my throat, having trouble coming to terms with the fact that we’re having this conversation. “That all sounds great. What’s the downside?”

“Vampiria B affects your brain, causing a kind of madness. People in the final stage of vampirism crave human blood, grow fangs, and exhibit bouts of intense rage. They have occasional hallucinations and experience temporary blackouts. We’ve developed medications that minimize these symptoms, but they’re hard to regulate.”

I’m struggling to wrap my head around the nonsense coming from the mouth of the woman with the medical degree. “Is that going to happen to me?”

“You’d have to be bitten at least twice more. Again, imagine it like a round of shots. You need more than one for it to fully take effect.”

“What’s my”—I swallow—“my life expectancy?”

“The virus in this early stage hasn’t been found to affect a person’s lifespan. As long as you take care of yourself, you could easily live a long life. You’ll need to set up an appointment with a dietitian who specializes in pre-vampiric patients, and I’ll write you a prescription for a blood supplement you can pick up tonight.”

“Hold up.” I raise my hand. “Blood supplement?”

“Right now, as a pre-vampire, you need blood to feed the changes in your body, but animal sources or synthetic prescriptions suffice.” When she notices my panic, she adds, “It’s synthetic, if that makes you feel better.”

“It’s chemically created?”

“That’s right.”

“So, it’s vampire junk food?”

Dr. Granger chuckles. “I haven’t heard that one before.”

I sit back, waving a hand in front of my face, feeling faint.

“I can refer you to a counselor if you’d like. I also have several pamphlets for you to browse. There are support groups as well, specifically for people like you.”

Oh my gosh—pamphlets, support groups, dietitians?

This is too much.

“There’s one other thing,” she says.

Before, she spouted off all the vampire stuff like it was no big deal, but now she sounds hesitant. Whatever she has to say must be bad.

“Okay…”

“Whenever someone tests positive for Vampiria B, they must be registered into the system.”

“What system?”

“It’s run by NIHA—Nicolau International Hematology Association. They’ll assign you a conservator. It’s not as bad as it sounds. Especially in the beginning when you’re trying to figure all this out, it’s extremely helpful to have a mentor who can help you learn the ropes.”

“This person will, what, follow me around?”

“They won’t follow you around. Think of them as more of a coach.” She gives me a sympathetic smile.

“And if I decline?”

The idea of some random mentor on top of the rest of this is just too much. Way too much.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. Even after you grow accustomed to the new lifestyle, they’ll check on you periodically to ensure the virus hasn’t progressed.”

“I thought you said it couldn’t unless I was bitten again?”

“It can’t…but some people find the allure of an unnaturally long life appealing despite the side effects. It’s a safety precaution,” she adds. “Not only for your friends and family, but for our entire community.”

This organization is going to keep tabs on me, make sure I don’t decide to go full-vamp and eat my neighbors.

“All this information and so much more is covered in the paperwork I’m sending home with you,” she continues. “I promise you’ll adjust and go on to live a normal life.”

A headache blooms behind my left eye, and I cover my face with my hands.

Dr. Granger returns to her computer. “Which pharmacy would you like me to call your prescription into?”

This is too weird—too normal. Like I’m going to swing by my local drugstore and pick up an antibiotic for a sinus infection or something.

“Um, the one on seventh. I can’t remember the name right now.”

I can’t remember much of anything.

A horrible thought hits me, and I look up suddenly. “What about dating?”

“In its pre-vampiric state, the virus cannot be passed. You can date, marry, even have children.”

Considering my track record, I should swear off men. I don’t even know why I asked.

“Wait,” I say. “So let me make sure I understand this. There are actual vampires walking around?”

“Yes.”

“And they’re allowed to infect people whenever they feel like it?”

“No—absolutely not. What happened to you was a crime. The same organization that provides protection and guidance for pre-vamps also has a department that tracks and arrests rogue vampires. Your conservator can explain more of that.”

“Oh…that’s good, I guess.”

“Here are the pamphlets I mentioned.” She offers me a manilla envelope that must be two inches thick. “There are a few regulations you need to be aware of, so read those first.”

“Regulations?”

“People don’t need to know vampirism is a true medical condition. There are too many who would seek infection, and it would cause mass pandemonium. As healthcare workers, we’ve vowed to use our discretion when speaking of the illness, and as a patient, you are expected to do the same. Ultimately, it’s for your safety.”

I accept the envelope, feeling like I swallowed a lead weight.

“For your prescription, I’m going to start you off with one ounce three times a day. You can take it straight or mix it with a little juice. Some people like to add it to a smoothie.”

“I’m sorry—did you just suggest I make a blood smoothie?”

“Synthetic blood.”

“Because that makes it better.”

She smiles. “We’ll set a follow-up appointment in a month to see how you’re doing. Please call the office anytime you have questions, or if you’d like more info on either counselors or a support group.”

I walk out a few minutes later, completely dazed.

I’m a vampire.

No, I’m pre-vampiric.

I drive to the pharmacy with the heavy packet in my lap. As I’m parking, I realize the pharmacists will know what I am. I’m going to have to smile and pretend it’s not completely freaky that I’m a vampire.

Pre-vampiric.

Whatever.

Will they look me in the eye? Or shy away from me like I’m a monster?

Are they going to offer me blood smoothie recipes?

Groaning, I drop my forehead to the steering wheel. If I ever see Ethan again, I’m going to kill him.

My phone rings before I can work up the courage to leave my car. I don’t recognize the number.

“Hello?” I answer hesitantly.

“Hi there,” a friendly female voice says. “Are you Piper Edwards?”

“Yes…”

“Great! I’m Emma with NIHA. I understand you just had your appointment with…” She pauses as if she’s glancing down at her paperwork. “Dr. Granger. Is that right?”

“I did…”

Wow, they’re fast.

“Did she explain a little bit about our organization?”

“A little?—”

“Wonderful! I’m calling to let you know we’ve assigned you to Montgomery York. He’ll drop by your house tomorrow to introduce himself. What’s a good time for you?”

Montgomery York. My new nanny.

“I work from home, so…anytime. I guess.”

“He’ll send you a text when he’s on his way. Now is the perfect time to write down any questions you might have for him. He’ll be happy to answer them for you tomorrow.”

“Um. Okay.”

“It was nice to talk to you, Piper. If you need to contact the office, you may use this number. Can I help you with anything else while I have you on the line?”

“I don’t think so...”

“Awesome!” she chirps. “Have a wonderful night!”

Then she hangs up.

I stare at my phone. She was awfully chipper for working at a vampire-regulating organization.

Shaking my head, I step out of my car and head into the pharmacy. I feel like everyone is staring at me. This is worse than buying tampons.

“Hi,” I say when I reach the back counter. “My doctor called in a prescription for me.”

“What’s your birthdate?” the pharmacist asks. He’s a nice-looking man with coppery hair, probably just a few years older than I am. I really don’t want him to know what I am.

Resisting the strong urge to run away, I give him my birthday.

“Piper Edwards?” he asks.

“Yep.”

“We’re not quite finished with it. Do you mind waiting for a few more minutes?”

“That’s fine.”

I sit in the hard chair, staring at a poster with tips for controlling high blood pressure. Finally, the pharmacist calls my name.

“Have you taken the medicine before?” he asks, typing something into his computer.

“Um…no.”

He looks at me with a friendly smile. “Do you have any questions? I’m happy to help.”

Mortified, I shake my head.

“Go ahead and follow the prompts on the screen, and then you can pay.”

I verify that I’m Piper Edwards and that the pharmacist offered me counseling on the prescription. Finally, I’m able to insert my debit card so I can get the heck out of here.

“You’ll need to refrigerate it,” the man says as I try to hurry the computer along by confirming the amount and stating I don’t want cash back. “But it’s pretty thick when it’s cold. Most people prefer to take it out of the fridge about an hour before it’s time for their dose.”

“Okay,” I say.

“If you forget, you can heat it slightly in a double boiler, but it will scorch if you warm it with direct heat in a saucepan. And don’t put it in the microwave.”

“Yep.”

“And be careful—it stains.”

Let me die.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions,” he says as he hands me the white prescription bag, which feels like it contains two rather heavy bottles.

Wow, you become a vampire, and suddenly, everyone is super helpful.

“Oh, and be sure you don’t leave it out for more than a few hours,” he calls. “It will spoil.”

I raise my hand in response, darting away with my head down. Unfortunately, I just about plow into the next person in line.

“Sorry,” I mumble to the leather-jacket-clad man, clutching my prescription bag like it contains an illegal substance.

The man drops his hands to my shoulders to steady me and says in a familiar voice, “Hello, Piper.”

I look up, and dread pools in my stomach. “Oh. Hi, Noah.”