“Hello, Doctor, I’m—”
“Stop!” the little doctor vampire said.
I froze, one foot in the door.
The doctor, who stood just under five feet, rushed at Lucas and me and dropped flip flops on the ground. “Please, remove your outside footwear and put these on your feet.”
“Uh, of course,” I said. I took off the silver slippers that the maids had given me and kicked my feet into the flip flops. “I’m Axelia.”
I extended my hand to the doctor, who straightened up, lifted his football-shaped head high—rising to perhaps five-foot-one—and put his hand to his heart.
“My Lady, I am the doctor Vosper.”
With his shock of black hair he reminded me of Ernie from Sesame Street, and his lab coat was so crisp, it probably would have kept its shape without him in it. He waved me in by fluttering his hands as if fanning his own face.
Inside the white room, with its tiled floors, white countertops, and stainless steel table, it was like I was inside a fridge.
“Please, my lady, sit, sit,” he said, his voice nasal. He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, then used the square of fabric to open a drawer before stuffing it back in his pocket.“Ah, ah!” he exclaimed. I looked over at Lucas, who had just leaned on a counter. “Please refrain from touching anything in the examination room.”
Lucas rolled his eyes. As I hopped onto the table, the doctor snapped on plastic gloves.
“Uh, please be gentle,” I said.
“Of course, of course. This examination is to ensure that my lady is well and strong. How are you feeling today?”
“Fine.”
“Are you tired?”
“No.”
“Are you experiencing any pain or discomfort?”
“No.”
“Did you incur any injuries from your battles? You have no scars, your maids said.”
They’d know. They scrubbed every inch of me. “None.”
I used to have a scar on my chin, an upraised snippet of skin, from a bicycle accident, but it disappeared when I became a vampire.
He put his hands on either side of my neck and felt my throat. He squeezed the muscles down the length of my arm, turning my hand over and pulling on each of my fingers. He prodded the rest of my body, manipulating my joints, lifting my legs, jiggling my kneecaps. Over his shoulder I watched Lucas scrutinize the room and note the ceiling camera as well as the recording devices mounted in each corner.
“All normal, Doctor?” I asked.
“Mmm.”
“I should tell you then that when I’m angry, I turn green.”
He stopped moving my big toe like a joystick and stared at me, pressing his bushy eyebrows in to meet each other.
“I’m joking,” I said with a shrug.
Dr. Vosper removed his gloves and tossed them into a metal bin; he retrieved his handkerchief to open a drawer to get new gloves.
He leaned toward me. “Please, my lady, stay still for a moment.” He flipped my lip up with his index fingers and pressed his thumbs hard into my gums.
“Ow!” I broke free from his hands and covered my fangs as they descended. Lucas straightened up.
Startled, the doctor reeled back, bracing himself on a counter. The moment his arm touched the counter, he gasped and snatched his hand away as if the surface was a hot stove. He looked around, his nose in the air like a sniffing rat, and tore his gloves off.
“I’m sorry, I—” I started.
He flung his arms in distress, his wrists wagging like a marionette’s. He used his handkerchief to open a cabinet, pulled out a spray bottle, and unleashed streams of bleach onto the counter like an arachnophobe squirting his nemesis to death. Mouths ajar, Lucas and I watched him swab the area furiously with a paper towel.
Whoa. The vamp loves his bleach.
With new gloves on, the doctor returned to me.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting it to hurt.”
“My lady, the fault is mine. I failed to sufficiently prepare you. I just wanted to examine your fangs.”
“They’re here,” I said with a grin. But they had already started to recede. “They’re white and pointy.”
“Yes, I saw them. For now, I have just a few more tests to run.”
He pulled out what looked like a blow-dryer with a small satellite dish on the end. “Please, give me your hand.”
He took a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and wriggled them onto his face. The bridge of his nose was so shallow that the frames sat on his cheeks. He flipped my palm up and pointed the gun at my wrist. “Now this may sting a little,” he said.
I clenched my teeth as he flipped the switch. A bluish light shone onto my skin. But nothing happened. No pain.
The doctor cocked his head, frowning. He flicked the light off and then back on. Then he pointed the gun at his palm. His gloved hand instantly began to sizzle.
“Ahhh!” he cried, flapping his hand.
“Are you okay?!” I said.
“Yes, yes, my lady.”
“Is that, uh, sun in a gun?”
“This device emits ultraviolet light to mimic the rays of the sun.”
“I’m impervious—”
“You’re impervious.”
“—to sunlight.”
“To sunlight, as I expected,” he said, setting down the gun. “In that case let us move on to another test.”
He changed his gloves again and retrieved another silver tool. This one looked like a staple gun with a digital dial mounted on the top.
“The hand dynamometer will measure your strength,” he said. “The base rests against the metacarpus—”
“Uh...”
“This part of your palm, and your fingers curl around here—that’s it. Now, just tense your hand as hard as you can for three to five seconds, and the dynamometer will measure your grip strength in hundreds of pounds. We’ll do three trials and take an average. Try not to move any other part of your body, just—”
For practice, I squeezed the device. With a crack the handle broke.
My mouth fell open. As did the doctor’s. Lucas raised his eyebrows, pressed his lips together, and nodded. “Good job, Zee,” he said.
“Oh my God, Doctor. I’m so sorry.”
Dr. Vosper took the mangled parts from me. “That has never happened before,” he said. “I sincerely apologize, my lady. It must have been faulty. We’ll have another one ready for our next appointment.”
“Doctor,” Lucas said, “I’m sure she’ll break that one too.”
“I’ll be more careful next time,” I said.
“No, no, we’ll have stronger dynamometers made, won’t we?” the doctor said, his eyes flitting to the camera over my shoulder.
Big Brother is watching. Well in this case, more like Big Dead Sister.
The doctor retrieved another tool, a black, hand-held device with two pointed cat’s ears. He turned a dial on it. “May I have your hand, my lady? This will hurt a little.”
He pressed a button and a blue current lit up between the two points. As it crackled angrily, he touched the device to my wrist.
A pop of pain caused me to yelp.
“Why did you just shock me?” I asked as he put the device away.
“I used a very low voltage to test your reaction to pain,” he said.
“Do others feel my pain?”
“No, my lady. Only blood wounds are experienced by all.”
Again with his hanky he opened a cabinet and took out a wooden case.
“All right, my lady. You were wonderfully patient today, and I have one last thing to ask.”
He lifted the lid and removed a large syringe and a needle, as long and thick as a pencil.
“My lady,” he said. “I need your blood.”
The doctor held the needle like a conductor’s baton as he was talking. But I wasn’t listening. I was getting slightly dizzy staring at it.
“...and then we can send the
samples for testing,” the doctor said, attaching the needle to the syringe.
I swallowed. “That isn’t a needle. That’s a chopstick.”
“Excuse me, my lady?”
“Seriously. You could hunt for whales with that harpoon.”
“I don’t understand, my lady.”
Crap. Joking isn’t making me feel better.
“Zee, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Lucas said.
“Vampires are thicker skinned,” the doctor said. “Human needles prove insufficient for puncturing the epidermis.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. No. Be brave, as Lucas always says. I had survived worse. And the Divine had to be fearless.
“It’s fine. I was just kidding.” I extended my arm to the doctor. He rubbed a cotton ball moistened with alcohol against the inside of my elbow.
“Now this may sting. But please stay as still as possible.”
He pressed the tip of the needle to my flesh. Stiffening, I waited for the pain. My skin dimpled under the pressure and the point pinched. The doctor grunted, his mouth pursed in effort, the skin above his lip rippling.
“Doctor—”
The needle broke. I flinched. The end flew over the doctor’s shoulder, plinked twice against the floor and rolled under the table. He gaped at the broken needle, his eyes wide, his nostrils flaring.
“Oh no,” I said.
“You’re breaking all of his things, Zee,” Lucas said.
“I can help you pay for these things.” It was a weird, human thing to say, I realized.
“Uh, uh, yes, I mean, no, no. This is terribly awkward. I had not anticipated this scenario. My apologies, my lady.”
After setting the syringe down, the doctor tapped his fingers against his thumb, like a crab tapping its pincers, as he considered his next move. With a huff he arranged several test tubes on the counter and took out a scalpel. He presented the scalpel to me gingerly, as if he was giving me a flower.
“Unfortunately we do not have a functioning needle. However, we still require a sample for testing. If you would, my lady, please make an incision at your wrist. It need not be large, just deep enough to draw blood, and we will fill these tubes. Please press hard.”
You may be the only one strong enough to break your own skin, Uther had said. I thought of that terrible car crash that Lucas and I were in, how broken he had been and how I’d walked away without a scratch.
This will not be just a scratch. I licked my lips and gripped the steel handle. Meanwhile the doctor wrapped his own wrist with gauze in anticipation. I positioned the blade over my arm. Man, this is going to hurt everyone.
All of a sudden, Lucas’s hand was on mine.
“You’re not doing that,” he said. I softened with relief.
“But my lady, the examination cannot be complete without—”
“It’s complete when we say it is, and we’re done here. Come on, Zee.”
“But the sample...” The doctor looked up at the cameras.
Lucas followed his gaze. “Doctor,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, “the lady will bleed for no one.”
The doctor’s lips parted, his finger outstretched and aloft; he then slowly curled it in. His hand formed a tight fist, which he put against his chest.
“My lady,” the doctor said.
“Thank you, Doctor,” I said. “We are finished then?”
“Of course, of course.”
Lucas took my hand and I slid off the table. The doctor kept his head bowed while we put our shoes back on. As the door closed behind us, I could smell and hear him showering the room with bleach.
“I can’t believe I broke all of his stuff,” I said as Uther led us back to my room. “I’m such a freak.”
“I don’t think you should worry about being the odd one,” Lucas said.
We looked at each other and I laughed. “How can a vampire be afraid of germs? It’s not like he’s going to get a virus and die.”
“Maybe Axelia germs, like the lady, are extra strong,” Lucas teased.
“The maids cleaned under my fingernails and behind my ears. There are no such germs left to speak of. Did you ever see the doctor when you were living with the Monarchy?”
“The weapons makers saw a different doctor. We definitely did not see the palace doctor or have anyone bathe us.”
“That was awkward for me, all right?”
“I’m sure you hated every moment.”
We fell back a few yards behind Uther. “Hey, I was touched in places that are only reserved for my future husband.”
He smiled. “And who would marry someone who lets herself be bathed like a baby?”
I clicked my tongue. “You’re such a jerk.”
“Actually, I’m not. Remember? I stopped you from cutting your wrist earlier.”
“Please, you just stopped me because you were afraid of feeling the pain yourself.”
“Mmm—you should have seen the terror in your eyes.”
“You don’t think I could deal with a little prick?” I jabbed him in the shoulder with my finger.
“What did you just say?”
Grinning, he grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. With a laugh I feigned losing my balance and fell against him. He put his hands on my waist to steady me and I leaned on his chest, wanting to be held. His eyes traced my face and then something changed. A flicker of darkness. A moment of doubt perhaps. It was as if being happy reminded him instantly of sorrow. Was it because of how many loved ones he had lost?
His hands slowly slid from my body and his smile faded. He stepped away from me and moved ahead to catch up with Uther.
“Lucas?”
“Hmm?”
I wanted to tell him about my conversation with the Empress but I lost my nerve. “This whole god thing is absurd,” he had said. Did he think it was absurd because I, a goofy, sheltered high-school student, could never live up to that role?
Maybe I was afraid that he was right. “I...uh, never mind.”
“My lady,” Uther said as we walked into my living quarters, “let me introduce you to Dresser Pavone. She will help clothe you.”
A vampire strode into the room in a short black-leather jacket and a plum, floor-length chiffon skirt with a thigh-high slit. Whoa. Motorcycle club on top. Ballroom on the bottom. She was about Lucas’s height, maybe about six feet tall. Her black hair was pulled into a perfect chignon, and a band of makeup painted across her eyes made it seem as if she was blindfolded with blue ribbon.
“My lady,” she said in a rich baritone.
My dresser was male, a beautiful male in drag.
“Hi,” I said.
“I,” she said, pausing and putting her hand to her chest, “am the dresser Pavone.”
She had on brown-leather finger gloves, so it looked like she had dipped only half of her hands in chocolate.
“I’m Axelia.”
“It is my most extreme honor, my lady, to be at your service.”
She held her dress out like a fan and curtsied. As a trio of maids flitted by her, she swept her skirt theatrically like a bullfighter with a cape.
“It is my sole duty to ensure that you look gorgeous,” she said. “What do you like to wear?”
The maids stretched tape measures across my chest and around my waist. Lucas and Uther both sank onto a couch.
“Uh, I’ve never been one to obsess over style.”
“Style, I’m happy say, is my only obsession. Do you have favorite fabrics?”
“It’s super cold where I’m from, so the warmer the better.”
“And how about colors?”
“Anything, really. I love bright colors.”
“Marvelous! Me too,” she said with one raised eyebrow. “Vampires tend to dress as if they are going to funerals. Black, black, and mind-numbingly boring!”
I was grinning so hard that my cheeks ached.
“My my my, you’re tiny,” she said. She put her hands on her hips and pointed her e
lbows at me. “With your golden complexion and your gorgeous black hair, my lady, you will be stunning in anything. But let’s do 10-33, 44-38 and 98-10.”
What is she talking about? She’s like a quarterback calling out plays.
A maid beetled from the room. I heard her sliding hangers across a rod down the hall. She returned with three dresses.
“No!” Pavone said, backhanding the air. “I said 44-38.”
The maid started to leave. “No, just stay here.” Pavone forced a strained smile. “Let’s try 98-10.”
The maid pulled the lacy, lemon-yellow dress off its hanger, unzipped the back, and formed a wall in front of me.
“Gentlemen, privacy please!” Pavone said.
Uther smoothed his robe and walked out of the room. Lucas sighed, stood, and turned around to face the wall.
One of the maids pulled my clothing over my head. I steadied myself on another maid’s shoulder as the third helped me step into the dress.
“Hair,” Pavone said. A maid released my hair from its messy bun and ran her fingers through it; meanwhile, another dusted my face with a brush and then daubed at my cheeks and lips with a sponge.
Pavone put her gloved fingers on my bare shoulders and turned me to face a standing mirror. Oh wow. I smoothed the lace over my abdomen; the strapless bodice had a sweetheart neckline with scalloped edges. I turned slightly to look at the bustle on my dress. The layers of fabric made my butt look enormous.
Is this what the Divine should look like? I didn’t feel strong or powerful. I felt like I was going to a costume party as a Disney princess.
“Aren’t you just divine?” Pavone said. She grinned, revealing two rows of perfect teeth. Lucas came to stand beside her.
“So? What do you think?” I asked.
He looked me up and down. “You look like one of those yellow rubber ducks.”
I coughed out a laugh but Pavone gasped. Great. I’m Quackula.
“How dare you?!” Pavone exclaimed. “She looks resplendent. Don’t pay any heed to that appalling comment, my lady.”
“Don’t worry, Pavone. It’s like water off a duck’s back,” I said, giving Lucas the evil eye.
“Do you like it, my lady?”
“It’s...very...bright. Very lovely. Thank you.”
I Am Forever (What Kills Me) Page 4