Divergent Bloodline by T. J. Shaw

Author:T. J. Shaw [Shaw, T J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Vampires and Shapeshifters, Military/Cop, Paranormal
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2015-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 31

Treatment

Viviane rolled to a stop in front of the wrought iron gates to Julian’s estate, sobbing in relief over the accomplishment. A guard stepped from the green booth tucked in a strand of trees and approached. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes. From his crisp, black suit and cropped, brown hair, he could have been part of the President’s Secret Service. She lowered the window and swallowed her rising apprehension when she didn’t recognize him.

A quick glance in her rearview confirmed her horrid appearance. She couldn’t even identify the woman staring back at her. Purple circles rimmed her lower lids. A yellow hue replaced the normally vibrant glow of her skin, which now hugged her cheekbones like a skeleton. The ripe smell oozing from her pores seemed the only healthy thing about her. Hell, if the shoe was on the other foot, she wouldn’t even let herself enter.

A contraction curled low in her belly like a cat stretching. “I’m here to see Julian,” she croaked, her voice rough from disuse.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but he’ll want to see me.”

“Name?”

“Viviane Taylor.” Small spasms rolled through her stomach.

“Not on the list.” The guard lowered the clipboard to his side and tilted his head, watching her.

She bit her bottom lip and tucked a strand of dirty hair behind an ear with a shaky hand. “I don’t give a damn about the list.” The contractions intensified and her cop composure fractured. “But if I were you, I’d call before you turn away his girlfriend!”

The guard didn’t move, unaffected by her outburst. She stared back, unflinching. Her entire body itched as if spiders were crawling across her skin, which reminded her of Justine’s incessant scratching during their first interview. Reaching some unknown conclusion, he tapped his earpiece and relayed her presence at the entrance.

Only seconds passed, but she endured an eternity in those brief moments before secret agent man reached inside the guardhouse and pressed the button. The sweeping gates lurched and crawled apart with the speed of an old man out for an evening stroll.

Weeping, she dropped her head onto the steering wheel, her very existence teetering on a precipice.

Why? Why her? What sins had she committed to merit such torment?

A merciful god would have let her die a long time ago.

Spasms hit her full force. Time stopped and reality disappeared. She gripped the wheel in a desperate attempt to maintain a connection to something real. With no strength left to act as a buffer, she absorbed every knifing contraction head on.

When the agony subsided to a bearable throb, the soft splat of tears on her leg roused her. Panting, she twisted her head sideways and opened her eyes. The muted beige interior blurred into focus and she looked up to view the gates open and waiting for her. Sweat coated her body. She wiped the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand.

The implacable guard stood at her door as if he saw women in her condition every day. “Do you need assistance?”

Another spasm teased and she whimpered.

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