Page 14 of Brimstone Bound
I felt it sliding in, but there was nothing I could do about it. My carotid artery, I thought dimly. I half gasped, feeling the hot blood –myhot blood – soak my skin. And then everything went dark.
Chapter Six
The first thing I heard was the buzzing. It tickled my eardrums at first then, as I gained consciousness, it became more insistent – and more annoying.
I moved slightly and there was a strange rustle. What the hell was I lying on? It felt like plastic, or rubber sheeting perhaps. There was an acrid tinge to the air that definitely smelled of rotten eggs, and there was an unpleasant taste of ash in my mouth. This didn’t make any sense.
It took more effort than it should have done to open my eyes. It was like they’d been glued together and I virtually had to peel open my eyelids. I blinked, trying to adjust my vision. I was sohot– and what was this crap around me? I plucked at it. I’d been right: it was definitely some sort of white plastic sheeting, but it was singed and burnt like someone had taken a flamethrower to it.
I sat up, shoving it to one side. That was when I realised I was naked.
I jerked with such force that I fell off the table and landed with a heavy thump on the cold, linoleum-covered floor. I groaned and looked around. It wasn’t a table, it was a metal gurney. That was when the memory of the attack came flooding back to me.
I must be in hospital. It was the only thing that made sense. The incessant buzzing was coming from an overhead strip light that cast a stark light around the room. I licked my lips and tried to call out to alert a passing doctor or nurse but I could only croak. If I wanted help, I’d have to go and look for it.
Staggering to my feet, I grabbed the remnants of the plastic and wrapped it around myself. This was a strange hospital room: for one thing, the bed wasn’t a proper bed, it was just a slab. And there was no IV line or comforting ECG beeping next to me, although I could see a metal tray with various implements lying neatly across it. Several scalpels and … I stared. Was that a rib spreader?
I backed up, colliding with another metal trolley and sending various bits and pieces clattering to the floor. Without thinking, I bent down to pick them up. When I saw the flames flickering around my toes, I let out a brief shriek and frantically slapped at them to put them out.
My heart was hammering against my ribcage. What in bejesus was going on? I straightened up. With shaking fingers, I touched the side of my neck where I’d felt the knife pierce my skin and slice through my artery. There was nothing there. No mark, no bump. It wasn’t even sore. I reached up to the back of my head where I’d been thumped. There was nothing there either.
Breathing hard, and growing more and more convinced that this was some sort of crazy-arsed nightmare, I looked around for some kind of clue as to where I was and what had happened.
My gaze fell on the clipboard hanging on the side of the gurney. I grabbed it and stared at the words:Jane Doe. DOA. Approximate age: 30. Identifying features: mole on left thigh. Apparent cause of death: exsanguination from knife wound on throat.
The clipboard slid out of my hand and fell to the floor.
Dizzy and disorientated, it was a few moments before coherent thought returned to my brain. What was obvious now was that the plastic I’d wrapped myself in was the remnants of a body bag. What was also obvious was that someone somewhere had made a terrible mistake. I most definitely was not dead. I poked myself again just to be sure. Nope. Not a ghost. I straightened my shoulders. Heads were going to roll for this.
The door to the small room opened and a white-coated woman with dark hair tied in a tight bun strolled in, whistling tunelessly. She walked up to the gurney, stared down at it and blinked. Then her head slowly rose and her eyes met mine. Her mouth opened in a silent scream.
‘Hi,’ I said.
Her jaw worked uselessly.
‘I’m Emma.’ I glanced at the ID clipped to her coat. ‘You’re Dr Hawes? Have you been a pathologist for long? I gestured at myself. ‘Because you might need some re-training.’
I’d never seen anyone look so pale. ‘You were dead,’ she whispered.
‘Clearly not.’
She lifted her chin. ‘No. You were definitely dead.’ She shook herself, her hand automatically going to the small gold cross around her neck. Her gaze drifted to my neck and I knew that it wasn’t the knife wound she was searching for – it was fang marks. But I’d never met a vampire in my life and, even if my attacker had been of the blood-guzzling variety, it took far more than one bite to turn someone into a vamp. Even I knew that much. You had to drink at least half a cup of the blood of the vamp who bit you to be turned.
‘You made a mistake,’ I told her.
‘No. I didn’t.’ She remained where she was. I had the sneaking suspicion that she was actually frozen to the spot. ‘You were definitely dead. Deader than dead.’
‘Then how do you explain this?’ I asked. My voice hardened. ‘And where the fuck are my clothes?’
Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. ‘Stay there.’ She turned and almost ran out of the door.
Fuck that. I tightened my grip around the body bag-cum-latest-fashion-item and marched after her. I wasn’t going to let Dr Hawes out of my sight, not until I got my stuff back and received some sort of explanation – and apology – for whatever had happened to me.
She moved quickly down the corridor and into a room on the right. I followed. Unfortunately for the good doctor, she didn’t realise that I was behind her. When I coughed, she jumped about a foot in the air. ‘Don’t come any closer!’ she shouted.
I held up my hands and the body bag slipped. Adjusting myself, I tried again to show her that I meant no harm. ‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ I said, exasperated. ‘I just want to find out what happened and get out of here.’
‘That makes two of us.’ She picked up a brown manila folder and thrust it at me. ‘You. Were. Dead.’
