Fangs of Fate (Untish #1)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TATE

Being back to work was a refreshing reprieve from the pressures of the Glenn. Normally, I’d stay here as long as I could withstand this world’s limitations. Two days. After that, the sun would begin to burn my skin and all those human stereotypes for vampires in daylight would become true. Unfortunately for me, I had to go back to the guara sooner than I’d like—as the guara informed me at my departure this morning, my world-walking pass now required a check-in every twenty-four hours. No doubt Chance’s work at trying to ‘mitigate’ my potential damage. Insufferable jackass.

Furthermore, my Disciplinary Hearing was scheduled for tomorrow, in the late morning. Things really couldn’t get worse.

Cody, my supervisor at the World Draw Organization (WDO), was in a particularly bad mood today. He had scheduled me for blood draws knowing I haven’t fed in over twenty-four hours. My guess was that Chance ripped into him and Cody, the ever-loving altruistic person that he is, was now taking it out on me. Talk about projection.

Most of my patients were the standard citizen getting blood drawn to ‘help fight the disease’ and test for contamination. Mostly college students today. Good meaning, but stupid kids who never questioned the why behind the WDO. Not that many did. It was established fifty years ago as a means of attaining blood for the Glenn and preventing overfeeding on the human population. It had been instilled by President Valley, President Dale’s predecessor, and was, oddly enough, something that Collin had fought at the House meetings with the other Vamps—back when we were still speaking to them—but he’d been outvoted by the inner councilman from each Vamp.

Now, I leave one corpse with a missing head and his High Lordship sends me to corrections? Hypocrites. But it didn’t matter, not really.

Hunger gnawed at me. I could choose to feed from the blood bags, as I was allotted two pretested bags a day while serving at the clinic, but the cold taste along with the innocence behind the source never agreed with me. I much preferred my vigilante methods. Call me a junky, but I had developed a palette for fresh warm iron from assholes who don’t deserve to have it circulating in their systems.

After cleaning up the rest of my station, I headed to the back of the clinic and punched out. Another eight-hour day served. I began to walk toward the door when an unwelcome head of gold walked through—Ferrari.

“Oh Tate, I see here that you drew eighty patients today but only logged seventy-nine bags. May I ask why?” Her voice had the cadence of ice shards, tearing through your ears in an oddly impeccable way—it was the perfection of it that I hated. The beauty that exuded from her was, quite frankly, unnatural. I still hadn’t determined what she was , only that she seemed odd, and I just couldn’t picture her being a vampire like she claimed to be. I’d never once seen her feed on blood. She was also too pretty to be human. Her glamour was strange if she wore glamour at all. A conundrum, that’s what she was.

“Yes, one patient passed out as the draw began and so I rescheduled her draw for next week.”

“You know standard procedure requires you report this. She could be contaminated, and her draw needs to occur on schedule.”

What a load of crap. Everyone here knew, well at least all the vampires here knew, that the virus was pure myth. There was no viral pandemic. We were the pandemic fifty years ago. Before world-walking became more regulated in order to maintain the veil between the realms and prevent another multidimensional war like we had a century ago.

“I forgot. I’ll fill out a report first thing tomorrow.” I approached the door when an odd sensation filled the room. My energy rapidly depleted and my head felt light—my thoughts blurring.

“Tate, you don’t look well. Here, let me help you.” Ferrari reached for my shoulder and moved me to a nearby chair. The room began to spin a bit and my vision became hazy. Pressure. I felt pressure. “Perhaps you should have a blood draw yourself to make sure you’re not infected. Working with blood carries many risks as you know,” she said adding an ingenuine ‘tsk’. “When was your last draw?” She pulled out her tablet and quickly punched in my ID number that was swiftly followed by another series of ‘tsks’. “It looks like you’re outside of protocol. You need them every three months since your work with blood and it’s been nine. Nine months, Tate. Not good. I’ll do it right now.” She reached for a nearby supply cabinet.Like hell she would.

“Nooo—I’m, I’m fine, really.” But I wasn’t. I could barely string together a sentence. My limbs felt latent, heavy even and my head was foggy.

“You don’t look it. This will just take a minute and then we’ll get it tested ASAP to ensure you’re not a liability to the clinic.” Of course, that was her concern. Assuming she was human and bought into the whole pandemic bullshit, she wouldn’t care for me, only her own ass.

Her skin nearly glowed, it looked translucent. Which of course was impossible; another symptom of my sudden illness. Maybe this was a severe case of blood withdrawal after a blood-drain followed by no feedings. Or the aftermath from an excessive use of energy. I had drained myself yesterday by simply shifting. This was likely the result from that.

A cold needle pressed to my skin, it was more painful than necessary but then again, Ferrari didn’t seem like the gentle type, despite of her demeanor. She also didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. My blood began to flow into the bag, and she sat there with a cold smile plastered to her perfectly symmetrical face. Her ivory skin was flawless, and her blue eyes shown with iciness. My skin began to pebble, the room felt noticeably cooler.

“Almost there,” a snake said to a mouse—Ferrari’s mouth moving as she spoke.

I glanced at the bag, it was two-thirds of the way full, she’d used the largest needle. Of course, why use bedside manner when you can use a sledgehammer. But the fullness wasn’t what gave me pause; no, it was the color of my blood. It didn’t appear red. It looked purple with streaks of gold dancing throughout it. Clearly, I was experiencing vision problems too. The pounding in my head began to intensify, I forced my eyes shut. I felt a sharp sting in my arm and let out a yelp. I tried to focus on the cause of the pain, but I couldn’t get the room to stop spinning.

Just as my head began to swim from pulsating pressure, the tingling of my skin stopped. The tension in my head disappeared all at once leaving an even worse dizzying aftermath. The room felt sweltering, and my stomach roiled.

“There, all done,” Ferrari said as she yanked the needle out, taking her time to inspect the blood while slickness coated my arm—I was leaking everywhere. A moment later, my arm was wrapped in gauze and medical tape, and she was gone, my blood bag already placed inside a transport container.

I began to stand, but the room went out of focus. The ground came careening toward me and impacted with absolutely zero grace. I laid there on my back, staring at the iridescent lighting as the ceiling spun. I’ll just lie here for a minute. Just a minute...