Free Broken Heart 04 Wait till Your Vampire Gets Home by Michele Bardsley Page A

“Do . . . do I have that? Oh my God! Stan, do I have the Taint?”
     
    “No. Humans can’t get the Taint. And that’s not what is harming Patrick.”
     
    The big guy with the green eyes and the assassin smile looked me over. “We may have jumped to conclusions. How quickly can you test her blood?”
     
    Stanley shrugged. “I should be able to test it against known substances fairly quickly.”
     
    “This has something to do with the dragon,” I muttered. “She changed me, didn’t she? And my blood . . .” My next thought had my heart climbing into my throat. “Am I still human?”
     
    “We’ll await the results,” said Lorcan, “before we make any decisions.”
     
    I knew my fate hung in the pudgy hands of Dr. Archibald Stanley Michaels. He knew it, too. And he couldn’t meet my gaze.
     
    They all turned to go.
     
    “Wait!”
     
    Only Stanley paused. He looked over his shoulder as his companions continued down the hallway.
     
    “Please let me out,” I said. “I’ll stay with you in the lab and help—just like I used to.”
     
    He smiled sadly. “I have plenty of lab assistants, Libby. And none of them have ever spilled hydrochloric acid on my Bigfoot specimens.”
     
    Ouch. The acid had eaten through the hair samples, including the follicles with skin tags. We’d been this close to getting a DNA sample, and I tipped over the wrong bottle. “Please, Stanley. Get me out of here.”
     
    “I can’t.”
     
    He turned to go, and I watched him get swallowed by the darkness. I couldn’t see far enough down the hall to view the door. But I heard it open. And close.
     
    I smacked the wall in frustration. They couldn’t keep me here.
     
    Not forever.
     
    I had a fitful sleep and awoke, I assume, sometime during the day. All the vampires were snug in their coffins while their pet wolves prowled the town. Okay. That was a petty thought, and I didn’t like being petty, even if it was deserved. I believed in karma, although I had no idea what I had done in this life or any other to get imprisoned and accused of attempted murder.
     
    I wondered how Patrick was doing. I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying. Or anyone dying, especially as the result of something I had done.
     
    Breakfast was eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice. I drank the juice and ate the toast. I wanted badly to eat the bacon, too. Meat was nearly an aphrodisiac. I stopped just shy of licking it.
     
    Stan knew I was vegan. Maybe he hadn’t adjusted the meals as another way to torment me on behalf of his new masters.
     
    Resentment was a thorn piercing my conscience. I needed to stop thinking such negative thoughts.
     
    I filled the hours doing yoga, meditation, and mantras. I practiced pranayama breathing techniques and incorporated a few mudras, which were spiritual gestures made with the hands. Afterward, I felt much better.
     
    I took a very long, hot shower. I washed my panties in the sink and left them to dry on the towel rack. I wandered around in the nude while my underwear dried. I wondered who was monitoring me. Probably some sort of machine Stan had dreamed up. Maybe Mr. Roboto was more than just a voice.
     
    Lunch was potato leek soup, sourdough bread, and iced tea. I was starving, but my first spoonful of soup revealed tiny bits of sausage.
     
    Yum. I mean yuck.
     
    Man, I was on the near equivalent of bread and water.
     
    When my underwear dried, I put it on and then I donned the pajamas. I took a short nap. Then I did yoga again. I had no way to tell time, but I knew it must be close to evening.
     
    An hour, maybe two passed. Mr. Roboto wouldn’t talk to me anymore. At this point, I’d settle for chatting with Melvin. Was he still hanging around? Or had he gotten bored and flown off to haunt someone else?
     
    No one visited. Not even Ralph. But why would he? Could I blame him for putting his sons’ welfare over mine? They had already lost their mother. It must’ve been really hard for Ralph