The Turning-Blood Ties 1 by Jennifer Armintrout Page A

completely healed?” I really hoped the answer wasn’t two months.
    “You’ll be fine in the morning,” he said as he recapped the needle. I snatched it from him. “Don’t do that. It’s a universal hazard.”
    He looked amused. “A what?”
    “A universal hazard. It’s been in contact with body fluids, which transmit diseases that cause death. You could stick yourself in the process and end up dead. It’s a universal hazard, and not recapping needles is a universal precaution.” Realizing I sounded like one of my old professors, I pinched the bridge of my nose in embarrassment. “I can’t believe how easily I just rattled that off.”
    “It was very educational.” Nathan laughed. He had a great laugh, deep and genuine. It was the best thing I’d heard all day.
    He shrugged. “But I’m not worried about diseases. I’m more worried about a stake to the heart or an axe to the neck.”
    “Is that all?” I teased. “I would have thought a strapping lad such as yourself would be concerned about his cholesterol levels.”
    Suddenly serious, Nathan caught my chin in his hand and forced me to look at him. “Your heart and your head. Lose either one and you’re dead.”
    How will you kill me? I thought. “What about burning? Can you die from burning? Or drowning?”
    As if horrified by the morbid conversation—or the realization that he’d started it—he removed his hand apologetically. “The short answer is yes, you can die from anything that causes more damage than you can heal in a feasible amount of time. But let’s not talk about this now. You need to rest.”
    I wanted him to tell me more, but I just cried gratefully. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do all this.”
    He didn’t look at me as he began gathering up the medical debris from the bed. “No one ever died from being too polite. Besides, you need help. The next couple of months will be rough.”
    “I can’t imagine it will be any worse than it already has been.”
    “You’re going to have to say goodbye to your family, your friends. Everyone.” He stood.
    “It’s lonely being one of us.”
    “I don’t have any relatives I talk to anymore. I mean, my parents are dead, and I haven’t seen any of their family since I was little, except for at their funeral. I only moved here eight months ago, so I haven’t had time to make any friends.” I stopped myself. “Well, except for you, I guess. You’re the closest thing to a friend that I’ve got so far.”
    He didn’t look pleased to be drafted into the role. “You’re going to have to quit your job. You can’t continue to work at the hospital. The people there are too vulnerable to you.”
    I couldn’t argue with that. I’d stolen their blood, not exactly a move in the best interest of patient care. But the thought of giving up being a doctor was, well, unimaginable. After four tedious years of college and three grueling years of med school, I’d finally gotten the prize I’d been striving for. I’d sacrificed my personal life in pursuit of my goal. If I let it go, I’d have nothing. I wasn’t about to let fate, or anyone else, take away the one thing left that I cared about. “I’m not even going to discuss this. It’s not your call to make.”
    He sighed. “You’re right. It’s not. But how are you going to explain to them that you

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    can’t work day shifts or attend morning meetings? How are you going to play off the fact that in twenty years you’ll still look…how old are you?”
    “Twenty-eight.”
    “In twenty years, you’ll still look twenty-eight. What are you going to tell people?”
    “Botox?” I yawned. The drug was taking effect. “Can’t I wait and work this out in a week? If I join your club they’ll tell me to quit, anyway, and if I don’t, you’re going to kill me.”
    The words appeared to surprise him, as though he’d forgotten he