Page 47 of The Doctor and the Devil
I ran my hands over the waistcoat, stunned into impressed silence.
“You thought of everything,” I said, embarrassed by the tears that gathered in my eyes.
Daphne grinned. “I tried to. Charlotte did too. We were positively unhinged when we’d heard you were taken. I tried to think of everything you’d need so that it doesn’t happen again.”
I nodded and pulled away, but the memory of Pascal and Hubert overpowering me in the carriage and drugging me still made me feel weak and vulnerable. I raged at the thought. I’d always been confident in my intelligence and my abilities, but compared with my immortal friends, I was merely a liability. Daphne seemed to sense my apprehension because she offered a determined smile.
“We’ll all be there together tonight,” she insisted. “And I suppose if all else fails, just shout as loudly as possible.”
She’d meant the words as a comfort, but the shame of them was a festering wound to my pride. Not wanting to offend her, I returned her smile. “Because a ferocious pack of werewolves and vampires will rush to my aid?”
“Of course! But truthfully, I think Rafael will be at your side before the scream even leaves your lips,” Daphne said, a curious fear flickering in her violet eyes. “And may God have mercy on the poor soul who threatened you.”
“I have known him for too long,” I said quietly, reassuring myself as much as Daphne. “I do not fear Rafael.”
The terror in her eyes surprised me, given how powerful both she and Étienne were.
“I know,chérie. But you are the only one who does not.”
We were still for a beat, the heavy confession thick between us. Then, in an instant, her defenses were back up, and she smiled at me, dispelling some of the anxiety in the air.
“Hurry and dress. Charlotte had the chef prepare all your favorites tonight.” She chuckled. “She believes if we’re heading into battle, at least we’ll do so well-fed.” She popped off the bed with more energy than I would have thought possible, given the gravity of what we had ahead of us.
In the wake of Daphne’s exodus, the room felt strangely quiet, and it was the first time in days I’d had to myself to reflect.
I regarded the unusual garments on the bed while I considered how strange my life had become over the last month. Mere weeks ago, I was resigned to my quiet existence—if one could call being a vampire physicianquiet—working, studying, researching, and finding sips of happiness at teas and dinner parties with my supernatural friends. It would be untrue of me to say that I’d been completely fulfilled…that I hadn’t been touched by loneliness, or the longing that comes from the heartbreak of your first love, your firsttruelove, but I’d found my kind of contentment. Satisfaction. I had a purpose, and that suited me. Perhaps I’d been too frightened, too numb to hope for anything more. Yet in the last few weeks, my entire existence had been upended. There had been a distressing number of outbursts and tears and reawakenedfeelingsthat my very recent past self would have scoffed at.
For the first time in years, I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t know what my next days or nights would bring. I didn’t know the intimate structure of the hours of my tomorrow—exactly when I would wake, what I would eat, which patients I would visit, which medicines I would craft, which experiments I would do. Rafael’s presence in my life had reintroduced chaos like only he could, and while that gnawed at the edges of my anxiety, I found myself thrilled by it. Did that mean I was ready to move beyond our past? I couldn’t be sure. The truth my heart kept circling whispered that I didn’t want to consider what our lovemaking meant for us—for me. For now, I could enjoy how his touch brought my body back to life as if from some wintry hibernation, and I wanted to leave it at that. No heavy discussions of our past devastations, our present circumstances, or our impossible future—just pleasure, plain and simple.
Even if there is nothing simple about it, my treacherous mind insisted.
I turned my attention back to the clothes and obediently began to dress. The soft, supple buckskin of the breeches was snug on my legs and felt entirely different from the heavy wool and silk skirts I was used to, but not altogether unpleasant. I appreciated the freedom of movement, though even I could see that despite the well-cut fit of masculine clothes, the shape of them on my body looked positively indecent. I assumed the thick cloak would help hide me in the ensuing night, as would the hat if I pulled it low over my brow.
Sorting through the waistcoat pockets again to familiarize myself with the contents of my mercenary accessories, I grimaced at the more lethal items. Daphne included them for my protection, and I was grateful for her concern, but the thought of using them on anyone turned my stomach. The small travel kit of medical accessories could prove useful, though, and my heart swelled at her thought to include them.
Tying my long, dark hair back, I grabbed the cloak and hat from the bed and made my way to the dining room. Étienne was seated at the end of the table, sipping blood from a crystal goblet. He smiled when I entered the room.
“Well?” he asked, gesturing to my new clothes. “How do they feel?”
I blushed. “Oddly freeing, if a little uncomfortable. I feel rather scandalous.”
“Good,” he returned, his smile widening. “Sometimes it’s good to be a little scandalous.”
Daphne entered then and whispered something to him. He nodded and winked at me, then left. As Daphne came around the table, I saw that she, too, wore men’s clothing. The form-fitting breeches, blousy shirt, waistcoat, and cravat looked stylish on her, and it made me even more self-conscious.
She approached me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“You look fine,” she said. “Well, even.”
“The clothes look odd on me,” I muttered. “But they are well made.”
Daphne tilted her head. “The clothes suit you,” she countered. “But I don’t think it is merely the clothes. Over the last few weeks, you have had a certain air—a glow, almost. Charlotte teases you about not eating or sleeping, so I wouldn’t wager it’s to do with your health.”
She brushed a loose strand of hair from my cheek and smiled fondly.
“If it were anyone else, I would say it was love.”
I blanched. “That’s preposterous.”
