Oliver's Hunger - By Tina Folsom Page 0,16

knew what they would do with her? First, they wouldn’t believe her anyway. And then? Would they have her evaluated by a psychiatrist? Bring her to a closed institution? No, she couldn’t afford this delay. She had to get to her parents and make sure they knew she was alive and safe. And then she had to send help to the other girls—she had made that promise, and she would not renege on it.

“Blood loss?” she mouthed, hoping she sounded surprised. “What happened?”

Oliver dropped down as well, bringing his face closer so she could look into his eyes. “When I found you, you were injured and suffering from blood loss. Somebody attacked you. You were running away from somebody.”

Ursula shook her head slowly, pretending she was trying to remember the events. “I don’t know. I don’t remember being attacked.”

“But you must, you told me,” Oliver insisted, his voice strained, his forehead creased.

Maya put a hand on his arm, interrupting him, then looked back at her. “You were in very bad shape when I got to you. Your blood pressure was dangerously low and your heart was close to giving in. I gave you a blood transfusion.”

Ursula’s heartbeat instantly doubled. She knew it had been close. She knew she’d let the leech take more than other vampires had before him, but it had been the only way to drug him. However, she couldn’t tell these two any of this.

“Thank you for saving my life, Dr. Giles.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t far. Now tell me, what do you remember?”

Ursula threw a cautious look in Oliver’s direction, noticing how he parted his lips, as if wanting to say something. For effect, she pressed her palm against her temple. “I don’t know. I was walking home after an evening class . . . ”

“In the Bayview? There are no classes out there,” Oliver protested. He leaned in.

“What Bayview?” she interrupted.

“The Bayview district of San Francisco. It’s a bad area.”

So that was where she was, in San Francisco. So many miles from home. At the other side of the continent.

“I don’t remember how I got there.” She allowed the tears that she’d suppressed for three years to well up in her eyes, lending credibility to her lies. “I can’t remember anything, don’t you understand?”

She caught how Dr. Giles shot Oliver a displeased look.

“But, that’s impossible!” he objected once more. This time he reached for her, putting his hand on her forearm. “You must remember. You asked me to help you.” His eyes bored into her, their blue brilliant in its intensity.

For a moment she wanted to move toward him, assure him that he was right, that she remembered every second of their encounter: the way his arms had held her, the way his lips had pressed against hers. Their kiss. The fleeting feeling of safety and the desire that lay beneath.

“Let her be, Oliver. Can’t you see that she’s in shock?” the doctor scolded him and tore his hand from her arm.

Oddly enough the spot now felt cold in comparison, his body heat having left her. Not wanting him to say anything else on the subject, Ursula asked a question of her own, “Who are you? Why didn’t you bring me to a hospital?”

Oliver and the doctor exchanged an odd look. She noticed how his Adam’s Apple bobbed, before he turned his face back to her.

“As I said, I thought it better if . . . ” His voice trailed off.

“I was closer than the nearest hospital,” the doctor continued in his stead. “And time was of the essence.”

While Ursula believed that time had indeed been of the essence, she wasn’t convinced that it had been easier to bring her to a private home. “So this is your house?”

Dr. Giles shook her head. “No, it’s Oliver’s.”

“Yours?”

“Actually, my, uh . . . parents’ house.” He looked almost embarrassed about his admission.

“I live only a few blocks away,” the doctor continued. “Oliver did the right thing to bring you here.”

Ursula looked at her arm and noticed the bandage that was wrapped around it where her skin had met with a metal rod from the fire escape and lost the uneven battle. It was true, the doctor had patched her up. She also felt better, not as woozy, and stronger too. In a hospital they couldn’t have done any better either. She was well enough to leave.

“I thank you very much for helping me.”

She swung her legs off the couch and pushed the pillow and the blanket off her

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