Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist) by Lynda Hilburn

felt ludicrous. Out of the question. Professional suicide. What madness had overtaken my mind? Or, more accurately,
who
had taken over my mind?
    “It is odd for you to be so suddenly terrified.”
    “I’ll be fine,” I said, hoping that was true. “So many vampires in one place can be a little overwhelming, is all.”
    Devereux wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. His exotic aroma wafted into my nostrils, still pleasant, but it didn’t cause my brain to spin or my libido to flare. His body felt almost hot. He must have fed again recently. Did he have an unlimited supply of donors? The horrible realization hit me that I’d never bothered to ask him if he was one of those vampires who needed to kill to feed. Just because he hadn’t hurt me didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. What did I really know about him and his frightening world? Almost nothing.
    He released me and pressed his palm against my chest, worry etched across his features. “I have never heard your heart beat so quickly. This cannot be healthy. Come. We will leave now. I will take you home.”
    Just then an unusually pale robed vampire glided through the rooms, striking a gong. The sound reverberated off the walls and vibrated the pyramid of champagne glasses stacked on the buffet table. Without a word, everyone followed him.
    Anne winked at me over her shoulder before stepping away.
    “What’s going on?” I asked.
    “The ceremony is about to begin. We are being escorted to the ritual site.” Devereux gave me a hard look. “I am concerned about the state of fear in your body. Despite what Anne said, someone has done something to cause your reaction. We do not need to attend the ritual if you are not up to it. Just say the word, and we will leave.”
    He watched me, waiting for an answer. Part of me wanted to go home, to curl up in my favorite chair in my pink robe, and give serious thought to my future. But the rest of me wanted to discover as much about Devereux and the other vampires as possible, to sort out whether anything I’d experienced in the last three months had been true. To see if I could trust him to keep his word.
    Anne had said the effects of her clearing wouldn’t last long. I felt in charge of myself at that moment and wanted to memorize the feeling. I was aware of Devereux’s mystical vibe, but it didn’t influence me.
    “We can go to the wedding. I’m much better already.” The fear remained steady but manageable, as if my instinct-brain remembered being prey.
    “Yes.” He brushed a finger along my cheek. “You do seem to be recovering. Very well.” He extended an arm, and we followed the throngs through a long, empty narrow room that opened into a vivid hallucination.
    A full-size replica of Stonehenge—except it looked as it must have when first constructed—stretched out impossibly on a vast expanse of green grass. Somehow the illusion of a star-lit sky had been projected overhead. Beautiful medieval music floated on the air.
    Three naked figures—presumably the bride and groom plus an official-looking woman—were waiting in the center of the stone ring, clustered around a small altar decorated with astrological symbols.
    Devereux and I joined the other guests pressed tightly into concentric circles. Even the donors attended. They huddled in a group directly across from me. Suddenly the background music stopped and all was silent except for the steady rhythm of the gong.
    Being in physical contact with the vampires inflamed my fear. I breathed deeply to calm the impending panic attack, thinking I must have been outrageously entranced by Devereux since I’d met him for me to have been unaware of this level of constant terror.
    At that moment, I knew my involvement with the vampires would never be the same. Even Devereux’s physical charms weren’t enough to balance the scales. Nothing could undo the events of the last half hour.
    I practiced self-hypnosis and riveted my focus onto the happy couple