Page 21 of The Vampire's Receptionist
Maverick’s head jerked back, and he studied Kian for a moment, shock washing over his features. “You…”
“We’re even now. Go. He’s not dangerous now that he’s fed.”
It stunned Dorian to see Maverick back down so quickly. There was a story there, but he didn't have the energy to figure it out. Reluctantly, the room emptied. Ozen was the last to leave and gave Dorian a concerned look before ushering his mate out. He looked the least angry out of the group, but Dorian knew the incubus had questions. Questions Dorian didn’t know how to answer.
Kian wobbled a little as the door shut, and Harlem raced to help him as he sank down beside Dorian. His long-time friend and feeder looked pale and frightened, his normally bratty attitude gone in the face of what had happened.
“What happened?” Dorian asked, because he still wasn’t clear on that. Taron was right, attacking people wasn’t in his nature. He didn’t hurt people. He wasn’t a monster.
With his back leaning against the wall, Kian said, “You were starving yourself. You lost all sense of reality. I finally forced a feeding, because you kept rejecting Harlem, and you went a little nuts. I should’ve remembered that emergency blood donations require a team, especially with vampires as powerful as you. When I was a paramedic, there were always at least two with me, so someone could knock the vampire out with drugs if they couldn’t pull back on their own, and that was with vampires without as much power.” He rolled his head against the wall, looking at him with unwarranted patience. “You didn’t know what you were doing. It wasn’t your fault.”
“That is still to be determined,” Doctor Chapman said, brushing aside debris to kneel beside him. “We still need to know why he was rejecting his feeder.”
Now that he was paying attention, he realized the window behind him was cracked like a spiderweb, as was the wall next to it. Harlem must’ve seen the question in his eyes, because he answered before Dorian could ask.
“The dragon, he had to tear you away from Kian. You wouldn’t let anyone else near you. The first time didn’t seem to do much more than piss you off. It was when you hit the wall that you were knocked out, and we could get Kian safely away from you.”
Which explained why his body hurt so much. It was no more than he deserved for attacking his receptionist. He had better control than that. He shouldn’t have taken more than was necessary.
“I see the effects of the starvation,” Doctor Chapman acknowledged before looking at him again. “The question is why. You have a feeder. You are compatible, yes?”
He nodded slowly. “Harlem’s been my feeder for years.”
“So then, why reject him?”
He winced. It wasn’t so much that he was rejecting Harlem. He didn't think it had anything to do with him. Harlem looked heartbroken, though, his arms wrapped around his middle, and his eyes full of tears. Dorian shook his head.
“It wasn’t him. I couldn’t feed. I tried. It felt like I was taking in no more than water. And my stomach churned whenever I forced myself. The last time I fed, I threw it all up less than ten minutes later. I was going to see you, I remember thinking to do so, I just…” He didn’t remember making the call. Why didn’t he make the call?
“How long?” Doctor Chapman asked. “How long has this been happening?”
He thought back. “A week? But I was hungry before that. Kian–” He stopped, glancing worriedly at Kian. The last time he felt well was after Kian’s last blood donation.
Kian shook his head at the silent question. “I asked around. None of the other vampires that fed from me had any adverse reactions. I even spoke to a few who’d fed from full fae. They said it was no different, aside from the taste of the magic.” He rolled his eyes. “I think they were making things up when they said fae blood is sweeter.”
“They’re not,” Doctor Chapman corrected. “There have been studies that say blood tastes different depending on the type of magic in the donor. Apparently, it differs down to specific elements. Fae magic is sweet, like honeysuckle, according to the studies.”
Kian made a face but didn’t argue. He glanced at Dorian instead. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know why you reacted like that. I don’t think my magic has anything to do with it. Even if fae magic was involved, I’m only half fae. My magic is weaker, supplemented by my witch side. Neither has had adverse effects while feeding vampires.”
Dorian lifted a hand to scrub at his face. He was confused and exhausted, though thankfully not hungry anymore. After so long feeling like his stomach was trying to eat itself, it was a little disarming to feel full.
Doctor Chapman studied them both with a far off stare that said he was looking at their magic, not their bodies. He startled for a moment, then shook his head. “There are studies on vampire physiology that I have access to. I’ll look into the issue. For now, since you seem to tolerate Kian’s blood, I’m going to recommend continuing to feed from him until we can figure out what is going on. Not without supervision for the time being and not without Kian getting a transfusion first to help him heal. There are still lingering effects of the starvation. Someoneshould be nearby to separate you should you lose control of yourself again. As for your physical health, I’ll need to set some mending spells. Your shoulder has been dislocated, and you’ve got a few fractures from the impact, as well as a concussion. Rest and magic will mend those.” He pushed to his feet, putting up a staying hand at Dorian’s confused look. “I’ll be right back. I need to confer with Ozen for a moment.”
That only confused him more, and he wanted to ask, but Doctor Chapman didn’t wait around for questions, striding out of the room with purpose.
Carefully, he edged himself backwards, grimacing from the movement, until he leaned against the wall next to Kian. He glanced at the man, who looked done in, his eyes closed, and felt his chest tighten with worry. “I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
A smile flickered on Kian’s face before disappearing again. Those bicolored eyes were soft when he opened them, no hint of blame in them. “I know. I’ve been known to be a little reckless with my patients. It’s why I’m a temp and not still a paramedic. I should’ve let Harlem call an ambulance.”
He’d almost forgotten his feeder was nearby. He beckoned Harlem with his good hand, since he apparently couldn’t move the one that was dislocated. Harlem hurried over to him, big tears in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I don’t know what I did to make my blood bad, but–”
He and Kian shook their heads at the same time. It was Kian who spoke first to reassure the heartbroken kitsune.“That’s not a thing. Blood is blood. There has to be another reason he couldn’t tolerate a feeding unless it was forced. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
He gave Harlem a soft smile as he nodded in agreement. “He’s right. It’s not you. I didn’t feel well before I started feeding.I should have spoken of it sooner, but I’m not really sure who I would’ve conferred with.” His mother wasn’t around to answer questions like she used to be, and he wouldn’t go anywhere near his father, not even if his life depended on it. He’d only be trading one horror for another. Harlem knew that already, though, and he didn’t wish to share it with Kian. They were still strangers to each other. He moved on. “I remember thinking I should consult with Doctor Chapman after I started vomiting up my feedings. I believe I even intended to set an alarm to make an appointment. I don’t remember following through, however. Everything after that feeding is a blur. I’m not even sure when that was.”
“Three days ago,” Harlem said quietly, his voice shaking. “You were only in my apartment for ten minutes before you said you had to go. You never told me you were sick. Why didn’t you tell me?”
