"As if you could forget after that," Debbie said with amusement. "Now." She took the empty water glass from Lissianna. "Have your lunch and relax. And no working while you're eating. We don't get paid enough to work through our breaks."
"Yes, ma'am." Lissianna watched her walk away before going back into her office. She seated herself behind her desk, gazed at the work she had to do, then toward the doorway again. She was hungry, but it wasn't a good time to try to feed.
While the shelter clients should all be sleeping, this wasn't a hotel with separate rooms she could slip into to feed privately without fear of discovery. There were six large rooms with anywhere from ten to twenty beds in each. It would be risky to attempt to feed on anyone in those rooms. There might be one or two clients who weren't sleeping, or who were light sleepers and might wake up. Lissianna preferred to feed when they were moving around, either when they were getting ready for bed or when they were getting up in the morning.
She'd try to catch one alone on their way to or from the bathroom or some such thing, Lissianna decided. The shelter inhabitants usually began to stir just before she left work in the morning, the early birds getting up at six or six-thirty in the morning. She felt better about trying then, so ignored her hunger and went back to her paperwork.
As usual, Lissianna was running late when she left her office. By then, not only was the sheiter abuzz wüh activity, but Father Joseph was still about and full of nervous energy. On spying her, he decided to rid himself of it by walking her out to her car.
With no other chance, Lissianna was forced to give up her hopes for a quick meal and head out, her body cramping with hunger. Cursing herself for an idiot, she headed for her mother's house.
It looked like she'd either have to let her mother put her on an intravenous--if Marguerite was even still up and hadn't sought out her bed--or she'd just have to wait until the next night to feed. She normally avoided being put on an intravenous, even if it meant suffering debilitating hunger pangs for twenty-four hours. At least she had since getting her degree, her job at the shelter, and moving out on her own. All of which were supposed to make her independent.
Lissianna made a face at the thought. Independent. She might feed herself now rather than depend on her mother to put an intravenous in her arm every morning, but she didn't feed herself well. More often than not, Lissianna went to bed hungry and suffering the debilitating cramps that accompanied such hunger. So much for independence.
At least she managed to feed enough to keep herself alive... barely. It would probably be easier, though, if she changed her career.
After all the time and money she'd put into getting her social work degree, Lissianna was coming to the conclusion that this shelter business hadn't been the brightest idea she'd ever had. Lately, she'd been toying with the possibility of quitting and trying something else. She just hadn't come up with a viable alternative.
Of course, if she were to be cured of her phobia...
Lissianna allowed herself briefly to entertain the possibility. No longer to faint at the sight of blood. To be able to feed off bagged blood like everyone else. Merely to walk to the refrigerator, pull out a bag, and slap it to her teeth, rather than to have to hunt up a meal either at the shelter or in the bars...
It sounded heavenly. Lissianna hated having to hunt her food. She hated the inconvenience of it, and she hated being different than the rest of her family. Being cured would be bliss, but a large part of her feared she'd never be free of her phobia and hesitated to hope for fear of the disappointment that would follow if it didn't happen.
Perhaps her mother would have good news for her,
Lissianna told herself as she pulled into the driveway. She had no doubt her mother had got the name of a good therapist from Greg before wiping away all memory of his encounter with them.
It was necessary, Lissianna knew, but found she wasn't all that happy to think he would no longer even recall she existed, which was silly, really. She hardly knew the man and hadn't spent much time with him, but couldn't seem to forget their shared kiss and the feel of him beneath her body.
Well, that wasn't important, she told herself. What mattered was that her mother might have already booked an appointment with the psychologist whom Greg had suggested, and perhaps in a week or so, Lissianna would be free of the phobia that upset her life so.
Cheered by that thought, she parked her mother's sports car, which she'd borrowed to drive to work, and crossed the garage with a spring in her step. She hadn't quite reached the door when Thomas suddenly pulled it open.
Lissianna paused in surprise. "What are you still doing up? It's almost dawn. I thought everyone would be asleep by now."
"Everyone else is." He moved out of the way for her to enter, then closed the door and waited while she removed her coat and boots. "I made tea."
Lissianna paused with one boot off and glanced at him warily. While few of them were very interested in food after a certain age, they all still drank normal beverages. However, tea for two at dawn seemed to suggest there was a problem.
"There was a problem wiping Greg's memory," Thomas said, in answer to her questioning look.
"What kind of problem?" Lissianna asked with concern.
"Take your other boot off and come into the living room. The tea is there," he announced, then left the room before she could say anything to stop him.
Lissianna quickly shed her second boot and followed him to the living room. He handed her a cup as she joined him on the couch, then sat back with his own cup and took a sip, apparently in no hurry to explain things. Lissianna was a little less patient.
"What happened?" she asked, ignoring the tea she held.
"Greg," Thomas told her. "Dr. Hewitt. They brought him back. He's tied up in your bed again."
"What?" Lissianna gaped at him with disbelief. "Why did they bring him back? They were supposed to get the name of another therapist and wipe his memory, not bring him back here."
"It seems they couldn't wipe his memory," Thomas said quietly.
Lissianna stared at him uncomprehending. "They couldn't?"