Della went to push up and realized something else that was gone. The cut on her hand. How had it healed so fast?
The nurse smiled. "Has anyone talked to you, yet?"
Della forced herself to reach for the large cup on the hospital table. "About drinking my water. Yeah."
"No, about what's happening to you." The nurse took the cup from Della's hand. "Don't drink anything. It'll make you sicker."
"Sicker? Have they figured out what's wrong?"
The door swished open and a doctor walked in. He moved to the side of her bed and stared down at her. "Does she know?" he asked the nurse.
"Know what?" Della blurted out.
"I don't think so." The nurse ignored Della's question.
"Know what?" she asked again.
"Her parents aren't live carriers?" the doctor asked.
"No," the nurse answered.
"Would you stop talking about me like I'm not here?"
The doctor met her gaze. "Sorry. I know this is hard." The intensity of his stare disturbed her. For some reason, everything about him disturbed her. Which was odd. She didn't normally instantly dislike people. It generally took at least fifteen minutes and a good reason.
She started to close her eyes, and bam, the weird crap appeared on the doc's forehead.
The doctor growled, a real growl. Della recalled the gang members doing-
"Someone knows." The doctor nodded back to the door.
Chapter 3
The hospital door swung open so hard, it slammed against the wall and sounded as if it took out a chunk out of plastered wall. Della glanced up, but the doctor blocked her view.
"What the hell are you doing to her?" Chan stopped on the other side of the bed.
"Shit," Della said. "It's happening again." And when she glanced at the nurse that crazy thing was on her forehead again. It was as if Della could see inside her head like in some cheesy B-rated movie. She could see the front of her . . . brain. Yup, it looked like a brain, only it wasn't just wrinkled. It had strange looking zig-zaggy lines, a cross between bad modern art and ancient hieroglyphics.
"What's happening?" the nurse asked.
"I'm . . . seeing ghosts." Della had to force herself to stop staring at the woman brain. She looked at Chan and now he had something on his forehead. Only his brain was different.
"We're trying to help her," the doctor answered Chan.
Della's breath caught. "Can you see him, too?"
Chan snarled at the doctor, exposing his teeth, and she recalled the insane talk about vampires earlier. "She doesn't need your kind of help, Werewolf!"
"Did you do this to her?" the doctor asked. "Are you the one who infected her?"
"Yes," Chan seethed. "But I didn't know she was bleeding, and if you must know, I didn't have a choice. It was snatch her up and get her out of the alley or let you dogs kill her!"
The doctor frowned. "Have you at least explained it to her?"
"I tried," Chan said. "She's not buying it."
"Buying what?" Della asked, blinking furiously trying to get the crap off everyone's forehead. "He's dead," she snapped.