Page 23 of The Midnight Order
He seems calm and level-headed.
Maybe he's the one I can convince to let me go.
Although doctors are supposed to have some instilled moral code of ethics, right?
"Alright, you can open your eyes now," the doctor says on cue, as if he knew I was thinking about him.
I watch as he hooks my IV to a pole and begins a drip from a yellow bag.
"What is that?"
"Fluids with some added electrolytes," he answers.
Tattoos laughs. "Better known as a banana bag. Don't worry, we've all been there. We've all also been the good doctor's pincushion."
I don't want to be anyone's pincushion. I want to go home...
I keep those thoughts to myself as I inwardly plan how to escape them.
They claim to be vampires, so their insanity must be their weakness, or so I hope.
I can work with that.
I only need to suss out which of them is the one who's going to be the most vulnerable while with me alone, because that's my target.
"She still doesn't believe," Tattoos grumbles.
He's assessed the calculating look in my eyes. I need to stay vigilant.
"Who the hell would?" Stalker replies.
"We need her to believe..."
Suit cuts off Tattoos. "No, we don't. We test her and then we toss her back; that's always been the deal. It's not changing because she's... her."
Because I'm me? What's so different about me that has Tattoos wanting to break their usual protocol?
Then again, I don't care. Reminding myself I don't care doesn't sate the voracious curiosity in my belly, however.
"I need her to believe,” Tattoos all but whispers, his tone dark and demanding.
My toes curl into the cross-grained blue blanket beneath me.
"This isn't about only you. Thinking the way you did, acting on instinct, is what landed us in this predicament in the first fucking place."
The statement has me curious about what Tattoos had done, but I swiftly forget all about the questions eddying in my mind.
Tattoos moves as quick as I can blink. One minute, he's on the far wall toward the end of my hospital bed; the next, he’s behind the doctor, still sitting to my left.
Holding the doctor's head in his hands, I note the gentle way he cradles it.
“Is this necessary?” Stalker pipes up, his tone sounding almost bored with the entire situation.
Tattoos bares his fangs, hissing as he locks eyes with me. His bite at the good doctor's neck is swift, causing the doctor to archup off his chair. I notice the erection in his scrubs growing thick with tension before I note the trickle of blood down his throat where Tattoos is lazily sucking.
"That's enough!" Stalker shouts. "I don't need you blood-crazed!"
I swallow thickly. My heart is racing a mile a minute.
