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He chuckled. “It’s turkey. That’s basically a veggie.”

Jiggling the computer mouse, Marisol tried to get back to work. She was checking the status on radiology scans she was waiting for when a question formed on her lips before she could stop it. A question that had followed her home and made sleep impossible.

She turned to her coworker. “Hey, how many patients have you lost?”

He looked up from his phone. “Like today? This week? Or this month?”

Marisol leaned back in her chair.

“Sorry, hun.” He reached out and squeezed her arm. “Did you have a tough loss yesterday? Was it a kid?” His face paled. “Those fucking haunt me.”

She couldn’t respond. She’d never known what it was like to lose a patient. To pound on their chest with CPR, unable to restart a heart. To be covered in their blood after they no longer needed it. She’d never looked as grieved as her coworker did while accessing some memory—one that was obviously vivid and painful.

Stomach clenched, Marisol found herself on her feet before deciding to stand. “I’m going to do rounds.”

“Move around. That’s a good idea,” he agreed.

Marisol wasn’t thinking about her unnamed patient. Wasn’t intending to go to her room when she started out of the nurse’s station. There were too many questions building in her chest.

But there was only one burning the roof of her mouth.How? How could a patient who didn’t know her own name know something about Marisol that Marisol hadn’t realized?

Yanking back the curtain, Marisol found her there. Dark hair wavy against the pillow, wild like ancient seas. Seeing beyond the hospital gown, Marisol remembered the woman who’d been unconscious. Her expensive clothes and dramatic makeup hidden under all that blood.

When her patient turned her head to look at her, Marisol felt the weight of her gaze on every inch of her body.

Trembling in a way she couldn’t conceal, muscles twitching and pulse racing, Marisol gave oxygen to the flurry in her chest. “What do you mean about witches?” Her heart skipped a beat before she managed, “And who the hell are you?”

Dark eyes brightening, the woman in the bed stirred. “What took you so long?”

Chapter Ten

Few things gaveElena more joy than telling people she was a vampire. She rarely got to meet an ignorant human first. Librada had been handling the task of initiating humans for decades. Elena rarely got to have that kind of fun.

Elena only wished that it was under different circumstances. That she had the luxury of time and clean hair. She’d make those hazel-green eyes staring at her brighten with wonder. With awe.

But she had to make do with what she had. Right now, all she had was a witch sprouting shimmering transparent wings and healing her body and brain so she could get out of there and figure out how she’d ended up in a human hospital, broken and alone.

Drawing on the well of influence within her, Elena held the nurse’s gaze. Influencing was nothing like compulsion. She wouldn’t force Marisol to believe her, but she could soothe her from the shock. She could make her more receptive, prone to believing her so they could cut through all the useless confusion.

“Sit,” Elena said, voice low but commanding.

Marisol hesitated before looking around the glorified stall. There was nowhere for her but Elena’s bed.

“There is a vast world out there,” Elena began when Marisol finally sat at her side, butt barely on the bed. She exhaled, her essence wrapping around Marisol to urge her body to release a spike of endorphins and serotonin. When Marisol’s stress dropped and oxytocin joined the party, Elena continued. “Humans live such myopic little lives.”

She smiled, attention drifting over Marisol’s lovely face. Her eyes looked greener against the garish color of her clothes, but it was the compassion that bled from them that pulled Elena in. More than her athletic body and full, sinful lips unpainted and begging to be put to good use. It was her eyes that made Elena not want to scare her.

“Humans?” She pulled her eyebrows together.

“How I wish I could take my time, darling. I hope you know that I would absolutely savor the experience of enlightening you,” she confessed with a sigh, lamenting her continuous disappointment. “I’m a vampire.”

Marisol laughed, legs poised to carry her away.

With an eye roll, Elena opened her mouth and called down her fangs, relieved that they still responded to her commands—unlike most of her body.

Instead of pulling away, Marisol leaned forward. Medical curiosity driving her to inspect Elena’s mouth. “What kind of trick is that? Do it again.”

Elena smirked before retracting and extending her fangs. She let Marisol look at her mouth from any angle she liked. Let her inspect until she was confounded.