The Reluctant Goddess (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 2) (14 page)

How damn appropriate.
 

"This is Dr. Fernandez," Dan said, about five minutes too late. “He's the GP on call."

Of course the castle would have a doctor on call.

"And you have your own hospital room, right?"

"We have a nice little outpatient surgery next door," Dr. Fernandez said. "It's come in handy from time to time."

Dr. Fernandez looked pointedly at Dan, evidently a signal because he stood and walked to the side of the bed.

“Well, I’ll let you have some alone time with the doctor.” He reached out and handed me a little button, one that looked like a dog clicker. “Just press this and I’ll come running.”
 

He evidently didn’t need to work for a living, but what did Dan do all day? When he wasn’t being employed undercover, that is. The question hovered on my lips, but I bit it back. Now was not the time to ask with a white coated witness standing there. I suspected Dan had a lot of secrets he didn’t want to share. He hadn’t been into sharing so far.
 

I thanked him, closed my eyes, and listened as he left the room.

“Are you going to give me bad news?” I asked, the second I heard the door close.
 

I honestly didn’t know how much more bad news I could take before I went screaming off into the hinterlands.
 

Let’s recap, shall we?
 

I’m a vampire.

My mother tried to kill me and, instead, killed an innocent person, um, vampire. Instead of being punished for her crime, my mother escaped and is probably, even now, coming after me with the weapon of her choice surrounded by a horde of similar nut cases.
 

My grandmother is a witch who always knew what I was and was cuddling me with one arm while preparing to snuff out my life with the other.
 

Are you with me so far?
 

I’ve been befriended by a man who lives in a castle and who professes to hate vampires while being very kind to me.
 

Oh, and I have a master vampire, a duke, wanting me to have his child.
 

There are just times when you have to ignore reality. Unfortunately, I didn’t see any chocolate or booze around and they’re my
ignore reality
helpers.
 

I opened my eyes a tiny bit to see him scowling down at the clipboard. It’s never a good thing when a doctor frowns.

“What’s wrong?”
 

“I don’t like your numbers.”
 

“What numbers?”
 

He didn’t answer me, but he lowered the clipboard and stared at me. His eyes seemed oddly sparkly and I had the sudden freezing thought that he was more than he should have been. Or maybe I was just being paranoid. What’s that old saying, that even paranoid people have enemies? I had my share.
 

“Your white blood count.”

My eyes were fully open now and I studied him. Dr. Fernandez was maybe Dan’s age, which I put in the mid-thirty range. In a few years, his high forehead wouldn’t simply be the sign of an intelligent man as much as a bald one.
 

That’s one problem women didn’t have to worry about all that much. Sagging boobs, check. Spreading derriere, check. A face that revealed all the ravages of time, double check. Baldness? Not so much.
 

I suspected Dr. Fernandez would mature into one of those men with a distinguished face. His face seemed unfinished now, almost as if the high cheekbones and sharp chin were waiting for a little age to mature them.
 

“But I don’t know that much about vampire health. I’m going to send the test results to a doctor who specializes in treatment of your species. I know of several esteemed physicians.”
 

Panic nearly sealed my throat shut. The last thing I wanted was to be outed to a vampire doctor.
 

“No,” I said, trying to calm myself. “I don’t want that. I’m fine, really.”
 

He capped his fountain pen and slid it into his pocket.
 

“I’m at a loss here, Miss Montgomery. I'd like you to see a specialist," he said. "Someone more familiar than I am with your physiology."

“I didn’t know there were vampire specialists.”
 

He nodded.
 

What about werewolf doctors? And other doctors for the rest of the Brethren?
 

I couldn't remember exactly what I'd read from the Eagle Lady’s notes, but were shape shifters capable of becoming something else at times other than the full moon? Could a strong emotion, such as anger, precipitate the change? Could they do it at will? Pardon me while I find a phone booth. Was Superman a shape shifter? Was the whole myth of Superman brought about to make the American public a little more amenable to super beings among us?

I was going a little far afield mentally, but I was doing everything in my power to avoid thinking about what Dr. Fernandez had just said.

Finally, however, the realistic Marcie surfaced and asked a question the childish Marcie couldn’t.

"Do you think I'm sick?" Really sick? As in some kind of vampire leukemia?

Wouldn't it be ironic if I had done everything in my power to make Maddock sick and I was the one who turned out to be ill?

At least he couldn't make me a brood mare, which was one good thing.

"I don't know what you are," Dr. Fernandez said.
 

“Do I have rabies?”
 

His eyes widened. At least he didn’t ask me if I had a reason to think I had rabies. For example, had I injected myself with the rabies vaccine recently? Or accidentally touched a syringe that held the rabies vaccine?
 

“No, you don’t have rabies.”
 

He evidently didn't bother working on his people skills, either because I was a vampire or he was being paid a princely sum to attend to the people at Arthur's Folly. He continued to look at me as if I were a living, breathing example of something very odd: a protozoa who had somehow learn to speak or an amoeba with a brain.
 

I decided I didn't like Dr. Fernandez very much.

Unfortunately, however abrasive Dr. Fernandez might be, what he said might be worthy of my attention. Damn it. Or, I could convince myself that because I didn’t like him, anything he said was crap.
 

Ergo, there was nothing wrong with me.

Convoluted thinking, but there you go. That was me. Being a vampire hadn't changed my brain. Or my personality all that much. I still have the same character flaws just layered on top of the physical issues. I've never read where vampires were supposed to be better than humans, unlike Maddock’s opinion. He believed that vampires were the best part of humans, transformed and transmuted to creatures that lived forever and sucked blood.
 

"Where do you suggest I go?" I heard myself asking. Evidently, the mature Marcie was also a hypochondriac.

He pulled out a prescription pad from his coat pocket, scrawled something on it and handed it to me.

To my surprise, I could read it.

I had heard of the diagnostic clinic before, but only in regard to human diseases. What I said as much, he smiled, the expression making him look more worried than amused.
 

"They're pioneers in the field of vampirology,” he said.
 

“Vampirology?”
 

He nodded. "The study of vampire blood."

I wasn't getting a good feeling about this. "Do they have anything to do with MEDOC?" I asked, staring down at the paper.

"I believe they’re affiliated. Why?"

"Nothing," I said. "Just curious."

I placed the paper on the table beside the bed, keeping my smile anchored on my face with difficulty. Niccolo Maddock owned MEDOC. I wasn’t going near the place.
 

Which meant, of course, that I was going to use the "let's ignore it and pretend it goes away," way of handling the situation. I’d already tried it with my mother and it was working so far.
 

Dr. Fernandez was a general practitioner. Maybe he had misinterpreted any blood tests he might've done on me.

Why had he done blood tests on me?

"How's my leg?" I asked.
 

“A very bad compound fracture,” he said, his bedside manner still needing work. “But vampires heal quickly. You should be back to normal in a matter of days.”

Another point in my favor. Whatever he thought I had, surely I would heal from it quickly.
 

Right now my leg was itching like mad. I wanted to reach down into the cast and scratch for a few thousand hours.

“Have you ever heard of a Dirugu?” I asked.

He shook his head. “It sounds like a sandwich. What is it?”

I wanted to flick my fingers at him and make him go away. Or maybe change him into a frog. No, that was the province of a witch, right? Could they really do things like that?
 

“Just something I heard,” I said.

I had to do something before he whipped out his phone and called somebody. The very last thing I wanted was a vampire doctor to know I was odd. A vampire physician would contact the Council. I wouldn’t be safe, even here in a fortified castle, if the Council wanted to get their hands on me. I didn’t know if they could use legal means or just send a murder of vampires to besiege Arthur’s Folly.
 

A moment ago I was having some residual guilt about using compulsion and now it didn’t bother me at all. I closed my eyes and sent my thoughts to the doctor.
You won’t contact anyone. You will ignore any anomalies. I’m just fine as far as you’re concerned. You won’t tell anyone about meeting me. You’ll have to be reminded of who I am.

 
A moment later I opened my eyes, smiled brightly at him, and hoped to hell he was one of the few people at the castle I could compel.
 

He smiled back at me and then down at the clipboard in his hand.
 

“Well, then,” he said, “I’ll let you get some rest.”
 

I don’t know if it worked or if he was suddenly just bored with having a vampire patient, one whose fangs weren’t in evidence and who asked about having rabies.
 

Dr. Fernandez made a movement with his fingers, a halfhearted goodbye wave as he left the room.

I was alone, the windows closed against the night. I’d heard that an injury can summon depression. I was in the midst of a dark cloud as I lay on the fancy hospital bed. Finally, I clicked the button Dan had given me. Just as he said, he was there in minutes.
 

“I have to get Charlie.”
 

“He’s here, Marcie.”
 

I blinked a couple of times, trying to remember. I hadn’t picked him up, which meant that Dan had. Despite being zapped, despite my anger at him, he’d done the good Samaritan thing again. Was he trying out for sainthood?
 

How could my vampire, tacky, weaselly, cowardly self possibly compare to Dan?
 

"Is he all right?”

He nodded.
 

Dan wasn’t looking at me and he was one of those people who always looked in your eyes. Instead, he was studying the floor.
 

"Dan? Is he all right? What did the vet say?”
 

“The vet gave him a clean bill of health. No damage to his lungs. He shouldn’t suffer any ill effects from the plaster dust. We gave him a bath when he got back, just to make sure he didn’t have any more on his skin.”
 

Something was wrong.
 

“After the bath, he ate a whole bowl of food.”
 

The tight little bubble of anxiety didn’t dissipate.
 

“So, what’s the matter?”
 

Dan finally looked at me. “The vet ran a check on Charlie’s chip.”
 

Of all the things he might have said, I hadn't expected that.
 

“His chip?”
 

“He had a chip implanted. They called the company and got the name of his owner.”
 

I hadn’t thought about that. Or, maybe I had and I just hadn’t done anything about it. After that first night, I’d given up hope of finding Charlie’s owners. No, I was hoping not to find them.
 

“I have his number," he said, holding out a business card for me.
 

I took it. On one side was the vet’s information. A man’s name and phone number was written on the back.
 

“His name is Stupid.”
 

“What?” I blinked at Dan.
 

“Your dog. His name is Stupid.”
 

“I’m not calling him Stupid. He’s a smart dog. A regal dog. He deserves a better name. Maybe even Charlie isn’t good enough. What kind of idiot names his dog Stupid?”
 

“The idiot who owns the dog.”

I wanted to cry. Maybe I was hungry. I always get weepy when I’m hungry.
 

“He’s going to have to wait until I’m better,” I said, seizing on an excuse. “Charlie is my responsibility and I’ll call him, but he’s waited this long, he can wait a little longer.”
 

“Would you feel the same if Charlie was your dog?”
 

No, but I sure as hell wouldn’t have named him Stupid, either.
 

“A few days, that’s all I ask.”
 

“I can call him for you, Marcie.”
 

I stared down at the card rather than at Dan, trying to quell my sudden and unexpected anger. Hadn’t he done enough? I hadn’t forgotten about my apartment.
 

"Where’s my stuff?"

"Your clothes are in your room. Your furniture is in one of the storage units on the property.” He fished out a key from his pocket and handed it to me. "Nobody else has a copy. Only you. I was trying to help."

Now was the perfect time for me to apologize for zapping him. Strange, that I didn't feel like apologizing as much as zapping him again.